Chapter 12 of Kohelet is the concluding chapter, in which King Solomon addresses man with one great call: "Remember your Creator in the days of your youth" - return to your Creator while your strength is still with you, before the days of evil arrive. He frames this call in a series of wondrous allegories describing man's decline, stage by stage, until the moment of departure from this world. In this lesson, we will follow the explanation of the Malbim, alongside the words of Rashi, the Midrash, and the holy Alshich, on the verses describing the darkening of the lights and the collapse of the "house" - the human body.
עַד אֲשֶׁר לֹא תֶחְשַׁךְ הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְהָאוֹר וְהַיָּרֵחַ וְהַכּוֹכָבִים וְשָׁבוּ הֶעָבִים אַחַר הַגָּשֶׁם׃ - Before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars grow dark, and the clouds return after the rain.
The Malbim explains that four types of light are enumerated here, from the strongest to the weakest. Above all is the light of the sun: its light is pure and dazzlingly bright, and no cloud or thick fog can completely obscure it. Even when the sky is covered with thick clouds, no one thinks that night has fallen; rather, one sees that the sun still illuminates through the clouds. Below it is the light of fire (referred to as "the light"), which is very weak compared to the sun, to the extent that even a thin partition prevents it from passing through. Below that is the light of the moon, which is weak compared to fire - by the light of a fire a person can read comfortably, whereas by moonlight it is difficult to read, and when clouds arrive, the moon no longer shines at all. And lowest of all is the light of the stars: their light is very dim, and although they are countless in number, they are small and scattered, producing no substantial light.
Corresponding to these four lights are four stages in a person's life. During the first twenty years, his light shines like the sun in its full purity. A person is joyful and lighthearted; he has no mortgage and no millstone around his neck. He does not worry about earning a living and is not burdened with raising children. He eats from his parents' table and lives in his parents' home, with no expenses and no grief. These are his golden days.
From age twenty to forty, his light diminishes significantly. A yoke is placed upon his neck; a wife and children disrupt his carefree joy, and the worry of livelihood casts a shadow over his light. This is no longer the brilliance that shone in the days of his youth.
From forty to sixty, his light declines even further. Until now he was on the ascent, but from here on the retreat begins; the days of old age draw near, weighing down his spirit. The burden of livelihood also expands: it is no longer a matter of getting by on five or ten thousand a month, but rather having to marry off children and spend hundreds of thousands. The financial anxiety grows day by day, along with the responsibilities toward his wife and children.
From age sixty onward, his light grows completely dim - this is already the light of the stars. The senses progressively deteriorate, and even though each sense has an aid, it remains weak despite it all. Spectacles assist his eyesight, yet he still cannot see half of what a youth sees with his own eyes. A cane supports his legs, so that he walks on three legs - two of his own and one artificial - while a young person runs faster than him on just two. This is precisely the parable of the stars: multiplicity, but weakness. Two strong legs are better than four weak ones, and eyes without glasses are better than eyes with glasses.
This is what King Solomon is saying: Return before your Creator before the sun grows dark - before the first twenty years pass and the sun begins to dim. And if you did not return then - before "the light" grows dark, which is the light of fire, until age forty. And if you did not return then - before the moon grows dark, until age sixty. And if you still have not returned - return before the stars grow dark, for when a person departs this world, the stars of his twilight darken and you can no longer accomplish anything. At the very least, return in your old age.
Just as in the winter days the skies are frequently overcast with gloom, and even after the rain the sun cannot be seen because of the clouds concealing it, so are the days of old age: sadness and darkness are constantly present, and the light of joy is perpetually veiled by clouds of sorrow and a dimming spirit.
It is well known that one of the most difficult challenges among the elderly is depression. If they lack something that brings them joy, invigorates them, and gives them interest, they sink into depression, and this affliction can easily hasten their death. A study was once conducted in China which found that during certain periods, the elderly pass away in greater numbers than during other periods, without any specific illness being identified. They investigated and found that before the holidays, mortality among the elderly is far lower than after the holidays. The psychologists who studied this explained: before the holidays, an elderly person is looking forward to seeing his relatives, his children, grandchildren, and perhaps great-grandchildren, and this gives him vitality and a reason to keep living. After the holidays there is a decline, as if he has lost all zest for life, and then many pass away.
One of the hardest problems during the COVID-19 pandemic, which people struggled to find a solution for, was how to prevent loneliness among the elderly. In nursing homes they locked them in, and rightfully so, since a single infected person could enter such a facility and cause the death of thirty people. Indeed, such tragedies happened: one person infected several others, and at such ages, where each resident has underlying conditions, it is a tremendous disaster. Yet on the other hand, the loneliness also killed them - the very fact that they were alone, with no one visiting and no one by their side.
This is what Shlomo is addressing here: when a person grows old, the dark clouds and gloom arrive, and he finds himself more often in sadness and low spirits. But one who engages in Torah study has vitality in every situation and a renewed spirit in every circumstance, "Were Your Torah not my delight, I would have perished in my affliction" (Tehillim 119:92). One who immerses himself in Torah constantly merits renewal and enthusiasm; each time he learns another concept and another topic that captivates him, and this grants him vitality even in his old age: "They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing" (Tehillim 92:15).
בַּיּוֹם שֶׁיָּזֻעוּ שֹׁמְרֵי הַבַּיִת וְהִתְעַוְּתוּ אַנְשֵׁי הֶחָיִל וּבָטְלוּ הַטֹּחֲנוֹת כִּי מִעֵטוּ וְחָשְׁכוּ הָרֹאוֹת בָּאֲרֻבּוֹת׃ - In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows are darkened.
Shlomo continues to describe man's physical deterioration. "Shall tremble" (she-yazu'u) - Rashi explains this as shuddering or trembling, from the root meaning to shake or move from its place (and Metzudat David, whose method is to base his commentary on Rashi and Radak, explains likewise). "The keepers of the house" according to Rashi are the ribs and the flanks, which protect the entire torso of the body. "And the strong men shall bow themselves" - they are seized by spasms and curvature; these are the thighs and legs, for when a person grows old his legs become bent, and they are the "strong men" upon which his entire strength rests. "And the grinders cease" - these are the teeth, and not only do they cease and weaken, but "because they are few," meaning most of his teeth fall out. Furthermore, "and those that look out of the windows are darkened" - these are the eyes, which look out through the eye sockets.
The Pesikta Zutreta cites: Rabbi Chiyya bar Nechemiah says, these are the kidneys, which provide counsel, and the heart, which understands; and once a person grows old, his counsel and thought cease. And such is the reality, especially for one who does not immerse himself in Torah. One who studies Torah keeps his mind constantly alert, but one who does not immerse himself in it experiences a calcification of the intellect, for when the mind is not exercised, it stiffens and dulls. We see this often with people who work into advanced age, such as self-employed business owners: you see someone who is eighty years old and completely sharp, because he exercises his mind continuously and never retired. Of a business owner one might say that his funeral will depart from his storefront - he dies at his post and never steps away. Baruch Hashem, such people enjoy long lives, and usually with mental clarity, because the brain remains active and does not wither. And if this is true in business, all the more so in Torah!
The holy Alshich explains that Shlomo comes and says to man: Do not listen to those bad counselors mentioned earlier, those faint-hearted men and women who say, "Do not frighten him, do not alarm him, and do not speak to him of grim things, he will yet live a long life." Do not heed their words. Why should you die before your time, with the kneading-troughs of your guilt bundled in garments upon your shoulder - the whole burden of your transgressions tied to your back? Indeed, I have already warned you: do not wait until you are bedridden, do not wait for the moment of death, but rather repent in teshuvah even before then, as soon as you begin to notice the signs of aging.
And this is "in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble." Many explain - and this is the opinion of Rabbi Chiyya bar Nechemiah in the Midrash, as well as the Ibn Ezra and others - that the keepers of the house are the hands. "The house" is the body, and the hands are its protectors, as it is written, "Skin for skin, and all that a man has he will give for his life." The Malbim explains there: when someone comes to strike a person on the head, he immediately raises his hand, and even though his hand will take the blow of the sword - skin for skin, better that the skin of the hand be struck rather than the skin of the head, for all that a man has he will give for his life; he is willing to forfeit his hands and feet, but not his life. Thus, it is the hands that protect a person.
"Shall tremble" - when a person grows old, he enters a state of trembling; the hands shake and the body shakes, even without Parkinson's. This can be noticed during Kiddush. This is "in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble": you still have the strength to repent, before a person reaches the final shovel of earth.
"And the strong men shall bow themselves" - the Alshich explains that this refers to the fingers, where the skin dries out and they become bent and crooked, a phenomenon seen in very elderly people. And they become "like those who grope in the dark" over the garment covering them - this, too, is a familiar phenomenon among the very elderly, who frequently pick at or touch their clothing or their blanket. And this, the Alshich says, indicates that his time of death is closer than before; it is another stage toward death.
"And the grinders cease" - from chewing. He is no longer capable of eating, and needs a feeding tube and other means to receive nourishment. And if you should ask: Has it not already been said, "and the clouds return after the rain," meaning that drinking becomes the primary sustenance while his food is minimal - what is added here? To this the verse states, "because they are few." There, he was still drinking and eating a little soft food, whereas here a state is reached where he cannot eat at all; if anything, only porridges and completely liquid food. Thus there is a further decline. Yet even at this stage he can confess and repent to some degree - there is still room left for him to return in teshuva.
And do not wait any longer, for soon "those that look out of the windows are darkened," his eyes will grow dim from seeing. And why does it specifically say "out of the windows"? Because the one who truly sees is neither the eye nor the body, but the soul. The body is merely an instrument through which one sees, just as no one would say that eyeglasses do the seeing, but rather that we see through them. Therefore the verse emphasizes "darkened are those that look out of the windows," and not merely "those that look are darkened" - teaching that the soul's vision continues afterward as well. Even when a person departs from this world, his soul sees what is taking place and who has come. Thus Chazal said: "Brothers, I will be standing there at the eulogy!" - warm up the crowd with the eulogy, for I am present there; when my body lies there, my soul is present and seeing. And the Gemara says that the deceased sees everything done to him as if in a dream, meaning a different kind of vision, a spiritual perception that does not operate through the physical eyes. Do not think that he no longer sees - he does see, but "those that look out of the windows are darkened," he no longer sees through the eyes; his vision is an external vision, that of someone who has already passed from this world. Therefore: repent before those that look out of the windows are darkened.
At the time, an interview was broadcast on Galei Tzahal with a well-known public figure. In those days, organizations published full booklets, not merely weekly Shabbat leaflets, and in the Hidabroot booklets they reprinted the interview at length. The interviewer asked him what exactly he had experienced, and he recounted that he had undergone clinical death: he saw how his wife fell into hysteria and called an ambulance, he heard what was said on the way, what the doctor told his wife - he saw everything from the outside, and recounted every detail. Throughout the interview, the broadcaster expressed astonishment: Had someone else told me this, I would not have believed it; I would have said it is one of the outreach figures speaking, but I am hearing this from you. This implies that there is existence after death, and that our assumption that a person dies and that is the end is simply not so. He told him: This gives cause for further reflection about life and its ultimate purpose. Immediately, the interviewee took fright that he was on the verge of bringing someone back to faith, and quickly tossed out a few dismissive words: Forget it, it's all nonsense, enjoy life while you are alive - anything so that he would not have the merit of bringing a fellow Jew closer, ensuring he would arrive in the Next World completely bare. In the end, he too died without teshuva, having done nothing with the experience. He received signals, Heaven spoke to him - and nothing came of it.
Rav Dan Segal related a similar story about his brother. His brother, who had studied in yeshiva in his youth and later left observance, passed away, and Rav Dan came to ask Rav Elyashiv whether the family was required to sit shivah for him. Rav Elyashiv asked him what his circumstances had been, and he related that some time before his death, he had suffered a stroke or a blood clot, and afterward refused to speak about it at all, withdrawing completely. He said: It seems to me that perhaps he saw something that he was afraid to admit and talk about. Rav Elyashiv asked him whether he had made any change following that experience - did he begin putting on tefillin, reciting berachot, kissing mezuzot, anything at all? He replied: No, nothing. Rav Elyashiv told him: If so, you do not need to sit shivah for him.
For our purposes, we see that a person receives signals - understand, the whole affair is about to end; understand, there is a reality of life after death - and yet he can see it all and walk forward with wide-open eyes without anything changing in him, and without being moved in the slightest to reflect or to change.
Once, a woman who had undergone clinical death was interviewed, and was asked what she felt at that moment. She replied: Like a cat about to die - meow. One who lives like a cat dies like a cat; one who lives like a dog dies like a dog. But for one who lives with an exalted spiritual soul - regarding him Rabbi Yisrael Salanter said that all of life is spent learning how to die. Death is the moment of connection, "and she laughs at the final day," the reunion with the Ein Sof, blessed be He, and throughout all his days a person works on the question of how to die: how to ensure that this reunion will be right, so that the angels of Gan Eden will rejoice to come and greet him, and not, Heaven forbid, angels of destruction - may Hashem spare us.
And since Rabbi Yisrael Salanter was mentioned: it is related that during his final hours, a man was assigned to stay at his side and watch over him. Rabbi Yisrael sensed that he was about to pass away, and what did he occupy himself with during the last half hour of his life? He sat and spoke with that man, explaining to him that there is nothing to fear about being in the presence of a deceased person: What, after all, is a human corpse? It cannot harm anyone and it cannot eat; there is no cause for panic and nothing to fear. He sat for half an hour calming him, and then he passed away from this world. This is the melody of Rabbi Yisrael Salanter's life: a man who lived his entire life with the question of how to benefit others and how to help every Jew, and even his very last concern was - perhaps after my passing, this Jew will be frightened by the corpse and suffer from anxiety. We see that when a person lives his entire life with nobility, his final moments are also the moments of an angel on high; whereas one who lives like a cat dies like a cat.
It is written that shivah is not observed for the wicked, and the Rambam writes that when a wicked person dies, one rejoices, wears white, wraps oneself in white, eats, drinks, and celebrates, because harm has been removed from the Jewish people. However, the question of what defines a "wicked person" is a very broad one. In general, we do not view every Shabbat desecrator as wicked, even though according to the strict, formal definition his halachic status is severe - he is considered like a non-Jew, his touch renders wine yayin nesech (forbidden wine), an animal he slaughters is considered neveilah (unfit carrion), and so forth. The Chazon Ish already wrote, as did authorities before him and certainly after him, that the transgressors of our day do not fall into the category of those classical wicked individuals. The wicked spoken of in these sources are primarily the inciters and subverters (mesitim and medichim) - and the examples mentioned earlier, of a certain broadcaster and a public figure, built their careers on incitement and subversion, on hatred and slinging mud against everything dear and sacred, and therefore they fit this definition.
However, an ordinary transgressor is not defined as one of those wicked concerning whom it was stated, "They are cast down and not brought up" (moridin ve-ein ma'alin). There are clear definitions: heretics, informants, apostates, deniers of the Torah, and epikorsim - they are cast down and not brought up, meaning that if an opportunity arises, one puts them to death, and if they require rescue, one does not rescue them. There is a lesser category, such as breeders of small livestock and the like whose wrongdoing was less severe, concerning whom it was said, "They are neither cast down nor brought up": if such a person stands near a pit, one does not push him in, but if he cries out from inside the pit for help, one does not rescue him.
In any event, first of all, it is certainly not recommended to attempt to implement this - nor would it be acceptable in a court of law. Secondly, in truth, today there are no truly wicked people in that category; today people are foolish rather than wicked. They are people who grew up without faith, and what can they do? This falls under the status of "captured infants" (tinokot shenishbu) defined by the Gemara, and therefore we do not define them by the halachic parameters of the wicked. To such an extent that in pressing circumstances, halachic authorities are lenient to include even a public Shabbat desecrator in a minyan: normally one does not count such an individual, but in a time of need, he is included. Why? Because he may desecrate Shabbat in public and then go home and recite Kiddush with his family. This is not the Shabbat desecrator spoken of in the halachah, who actively denies that God created the world in six days; he acts merely out of desire and habit, for that is how he grew up, that is what he was taught, and that is how he behaves. Therefore, he does not fall into the category of those wicked heretics to whom all this severity applies.
King Solomon portrays human life through four gradually fading lights - the sun, daylight, the moon, and the stars - corresponding to four twenty-year stages, calling out at every step: Return to your Creator before the next light is extinguished. He then depicts the collapse of the "house," from the trembling of the hands and fingers, through the ceasing of the teeth, until those that look out the windows grow dim - and every stage is a final call to repentance, for in each one there still remains strength to confess and return. The soul itself continues to see even after its departure from the body, and therefore one has no choice but to prepare for this moment well in advance. One who meditates upon the Torah finds vitality and renewal even in the days of old age, "They shall still bring forth fruit in old age," and one who lives his life with nobility - like Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, who cared for his fellow man until his final half hour - dies in that same elevated manner. Conversely, there are those who receive clear signals from Heaven yet do not budge from their ways. The choice is in our hands, and concerning this Solomon says: Remember your Creator in the days of your youth.