The ancient rabbis grappled with these questions too, and their insights, preserved in texts like Vayikra Rabbah, offer some startling perspectives.

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba, quoting Rabbi Levi, starts us off with a rather blunt assessment of humanity, citing Psalm 62:10: “People are nothingness; men are but deceit; they rise together on a scale, lighter than nothingness.” Strong words. But what do they mean?

Rabbi Levi unpacks it with a very practical example: marriage. We might think, "So-and-so should marry so-and-so. It's a perfect match!" But, according to the verse, "people are nothingness" in this equation. Our well-laid plans, our perfect pairings…they might not mean a thing. And even if a couple does get together, "men are but deceit." The success of that union isn't guaranteed simply because it looked good on paper.

So, where does that leave us? Are we just puppets dancing to a cosmic tune?

Rabbi Ḥiyya offers another layer: "While they are still nothingness in their mother’s womb, they are together." This suggests a divine decree, a pre-ordained connection that determines who will marry whom even before birth. It's a powerful idea – the notion that some things are simply meant to be, woven into the fabric of our existence long before we even arrive. According to Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, this concept of predestined matches is deeply rooted in Jewish tradition.

But what about all the mistakes we make? The "vanity and deceit" that Rav Naḥman attributes to us, the descendants of Abraham? Is there any hope for atonement?

Rav Naḥman says yes. He argues that Abraham, "the greatest man among giants" (Joshua 14:15), is worthy to atone for all of it. He pictures Abraham standing on a scale, balancing out all our flaws. And when does this atonement take place? In the month whose constellation is Libra, the scales.

And what month is that? Tishrei, the seventh month. The month of Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), of Sukkot (the Feast of Tabernacles), of the lulav and arava (ritual items used during Sukkot). Vayikra Rabbah points out that tishrei sounds like "you will atone," linking the month directly to forgiveness.

The text even offers an alternative reading: "in the seventh [hashevi'i] month," which it connects to the idea of being "plentiful [mesuba] in all respects." : Tishrei is harvest time, a time of abundance. The wine presses and olive presses are busy, and blessings are overflowing. It’s a period of intense activity and culmination.

So, what do we take away from all this? It's a complex picture, isn't it? We're told we’re "nothingness" and prone to "deceit," yet we're also connected by pre-ordained destinies and offered the possibility of atonement through Abraham’s merit during the abundant month of Tishrei.

Perhaps the message isn't about complete control or utter helplessness. Maybe it's about finding the balance between acknowledging our limitations and striving for something better. Maybe it's about recognizing the threads of fate woven into our lives while still actively choosing how we respond to them. It's a profound reminder to be humble, to be mindful, and to seek atonement and blessing in every Tishrei that comes our way. Because even if we are "lighter than nothingness," we still have the capacity for growth, for connection, and for forgiveness.