Kohelet, Jewish Joy & the Impending Hostage Release

Start worrying. Details to follow…”

That’s the classic content of the Jewish telegram about what to expect.

Then there’s the conversation between the Jewish pessimist and the Jewish optimist.

Pessimist: “I don’t think things can get much worse.”
Optimist: “You’re very wrong, I’m sure they can.”

Are Jews optimists or pessimists? Both.

Our experience gives us reasons for despair and hope, exultation and trepidation, and the glass being both half empty and half full. I just read about a news report of how October 7 prompted some Jews to make aliya and others to leave Israel.

Right now, we are all cautiously optimistic as we await the release of the hostages. We are reliving what our ancestor’s experienced more than 2,000 years ago as described in Nechemia 8:17 – “The whole community that returned from the captivity made booths and dwelt in the booths…and there was very great rejoicing.”

The expected release of hostage as we celebrate Simchat Torah and commemorate the anniversary of when the dark saga began is particularly powerful. The convergence of these multiple emotions is appropriate this Shabbat as we read Kohelet, the Book of Ecclesiastes.

“Haveil havalim amar Kohelet, haveil havalim ha-kol havel - Utter futility! - said Kohelet - Utter futility! All is futile!” (Kohelet 1:2)

Kohelet is not a very cheerful book. In fact, the Talmud (Shabbat 30b) teaches that the Rabbis wanted to hide Kohelet because it contains such contradictory and difficult teachings. The most sobering element is the recurrence of the word, “hevel,” translated as futility, vanity, folly, meaningless, or the like. If we read repeatedly how worthless things are, I can see why we might want to hide the book.

The custom is to read Kohelet on Shabbat Chol Hamoed Sukkot so that the book’s sobering nature ensures the celebrations of the festival don’t get out of hand. Sukkot may be z’man simchateinu but let us not forget that life is futile. We use Kohelet as a buzzkill, to remind us to be happy but not too happy.

I think there is a deeper lesson to be found in Kohelet. Kohelet abides because it provides perspective – maybe a corrective – on simcha, Jewish joy.

Kohelet isn’t all doom and gloom. There are flashes of optimism, meaning, and even celebration. Wee just need to look for them, to mine them out. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that when Kohelet (King Solomon) focuses on himself, the tone is more pessimistic. When his experience includes others, there is more optimism.

Verses such as “I built for myself, I gathered for myself, I acquired for myself…” (Kohelet 2:4-9) end on a negative note. When Kohelet writes about being more productive (Kohelet 5:11) or social or even being happily married (9:9), he sounds more positive.

True Jewish joy must take others into account.

Take simchat yom tov, how we celebrate the festivals.

Rambam reminds us that we need to include others in our holiday meals. If not, our joy isn’t a religious experience; it’s “rejoicing of the belly.” Rambam notes that including others in our celebration of the festival isn’t about charity. He specifically mentions inviting those who are troubled or sad. We need to take others into account – their physical, spiritual, and emotional needs. Otherwise, our celebration is merely performative and limited to ourselves. To paraphrase Kohelet, it’s havel.

It's only true “Jewish joy” when it involves others. We know deep down this is true, but it is easy to get lost in our own emotions. As we, please God, celebrate the hostages returning home, we must filter our joy through the hearts of those for whom the moment will not be as celebratory.

There is a long road to recovery for the hostages and their families.

There is the mourning for those who loved ones’ remains will be returned but who are coming to grips with their ultimate absence.

There are those who bear the scars of wounds of war: missing limbs or loved ones killed in action, scars and trauma from injuries during battle, or the difficulty returning to normal after two years of war.

Iris Haim’s son, Yotam, was taken hostage by Hama and then accidentally killed by IDF troops. She posted the following online, reminding us of the complexity of the moment and mixed emotions people will be having.

Today, when you rejoice, rejoice reservedly, rejoice quietly, rejoice with a trembling voice.
Yes, it is right to rejoice, to release a sigh of relief, to ask forgiveness.
Yes, it is right, at the same time, to remember — in every moment — those who were not granted to embrace again, those who were starved and did not return, those who ran and would never again receive the laughter of their fair-haired child.
Rejoice within your homes, not in the city squares. Rejoice in your sukkah.
I give thanks for this moment that is coming — yet there is no joy in my heart.
At this moment, I yearn, like everyone, to see them home.
Still, the heart is torn again by the feeling of despair — mine is not coming.

Are Jews optimists or pessimists? Yes.

Kohelet takes us on a winding tale of ups and downs, highs and lows, optimism and pessimism, and celebration and sadness. We will find true meaning, purpose, and joy when we extend ourselves to others, feel their pain, and lift them up so we can all be redeemed together.