It is traditional to read the book of Ecclesiastes during the Sukkot festival period.  This year the reading comes out Shabbat morning which is Shmini Atzeret.  In my mind, Ecclesiastes is one of the most fascinating books of the Bible.  Tradition teaches that King Solomon wrote the book in his old age, when he was searching for meaning in life.  It is therefore worthy to read the book during the time of year when days are getting shorter and colder; winter is approaching.

       The beginning of the third chapter is perhaps the most famous and most quoted section of the book.  This is probably due to the Byrds 1965 recording of the Pete Seeger song Turn! Turn! Turn!  It became a popular antiwar song during the height of the Vietnam War.  But the original text is not necessarily anti-war.  It says "A time for war and a time for peace."  (Ecclesiastes 3:8)   Of course Jeremiah later declared "peace peace but there is no peace."   We pray for peace but sometimes, sadly, there is no choice but to go to war.        

 

        The part I quote most often are the words "A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance."  (Ecclesiastes 3:4)   Often at unveilings I will say, "We have now mourned so-and-so for a year.  There is a time to mourn and a time to dance.  It is time to start dancing again."  Our tradition says there is a limit to mourning.  Jewish law requires certain people to recite the Mourner's kaddish for eleven months.  When I see someone continuing to say kaddish for years and years, I try to convince them to stop.  There is a limit to mourning.   It is time to dance once again.

        Related to this is the phrase that opens this section - "A time to be born and a time to die."  (Ecclesiastes 3:2)   We have control over many things in our lives.  But we have no control over when we are born, or for that matter to whom we are born.  And most of us have limited control over when we die.  In a tradition that embraces life, it is hard to deal with the inevitability of death.  I have been with families in intensive care units at hospitals, trying to convince them that there is a limit to medical treatment.  Our bodies were not meant to last forever.  At some point we must learn to let go and let nature take its course.  But it is hard.

       There is one more passage from the poem that hits home with many people I counsel.  "A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing."  (Ecclesiastes 3:5)  Casting stones can be taken literally, or it can refer to anger.  Gathering stones then would refer to forgiveness.  There is a time for anger, and there is a time for forgiveness.  Finding the balance is one of the great challenges of being a decent human being.

       The second part of this phrase can apply to parents.  When do we embrace our children?  And when do we refrain from embracing our children?  When do we come to their aid or rescue?   And when do we leave them to their own devices?   When do we interfere in their lives?   And when do we step back and make them responsible for their own lives?  When do we correct their mistakes?  And when do we let them live with their mistakes?

       I discussed this question with the young teens in my Torah Corps program.  Most of them felt that their parents meddled too much in their lives.  These are fourteen and fifteen year olds; their parents ought to be meddling in their lives.  But what about twenty year olds?   Thirty year olds?  When do we embrace and when do we refrain from embracing?

          The powerful poem from Ecclesiastes is really about finding balance in our lives.  It is about walking the middle road.   Tradition considers this wisdom literature.  There is no piece of wisdom more pertinent than knowing what is appropriate at what time.  Let us read the poem and seek the kind of balance King Solomon celebrated.