Chapter 12 in Kohelet continues the Sage's great allegory for the days of old age: man's bodily organs are compared to a house and its inhabitants, to the grinding maids and the women looking through windows, to doors and to the mill. In this lesson, we examine verses 4-5, in which Kohelet continues to describe how the gates of a person's body close upon him one by one, thereby awakening man to remember his Creator while he still can.
וְסֻגְּרוּ דְלָתַיִם בַּשּׁוּק בִּשְׁפַל קוֹל הַטַּחֲנָה, וְיָקוּם לְקוֹל הַצִּפּוֹר, וְיִשַּׁחוּ כׇּל בְּנוֹת הַשִּׁיר׃ - And the doors shall be shut in the street when the sound of the mill is low, and he shall rise at the voice of a bird, and all the daughters of song shall be brought low.
Rashi explains: "These are his bodily orifices." The expression of closing implies constipation, a state in which an elderly person can no longer relieve himself properly. The Pesikta Zutarta explains differently: "Doors in the street [shuk]" relates to the legs [shokayim] - the elderly person can no longer walk easily, so he remains shut inside his home and does not venture out to the marketplace, for as one ages, he stays indoors much more.
Rashi explains that this refers to the millstones that grind the food in one's digestive tract. "Is low" means weakened: the elderly person's digestive system slows down, and the stomach and digestive organs no longer function as they did in his youth.
Rashi notes: "Even the sound of a bird rouses him from his sleep once he has aged." This reflects the perpetual debate between the youth and the elders in the synagogues: the elders want Shacharit at six in the morning, or earlier if possible, while the youth want eight, or even later. A young person can easily sleep until nine, whereas an elderly person finds himself wide awake by four in the morning at the chirping of songbirds. The sleep hours of an aging person decrease, especially since he rests more rather than engaging in constant physical activity like the young, but even without that, the elderly naturally require fewer hours of sleep.
Ibn Ezra explains: "It is known that food induces sleep" - as taught in Masechet Yoma, eating brings on sleep, which is why they had to keep the Kohen Gadol awake. "And as the mouth closes, food is diminished, and he awakens at the slightest sound." According to his approach, "and the doors shall be shut in the street when the sound of the mill is low" means that the elderly person no longer eats much, and consequently his sleep is also diminished. This is also understandable from a physiological standpoint: eating activates the digestive tract, and this process, though unfelt, expends bodily energy. Therefore, after eating - especially heavy, hard-to-digest foods - a heaviness falls upon a person. As the saying goes: one who eats chamin must lie down; if he does not rest his head, he will find it difficult even to stand.
In an elderly person, all the senses are weaker, and consequently sleep is lighter; in a young person, everything is more robust, and his sleep is sounder. It is told that when someone would come to the Torah greats and complain that he had trouble falling asleep, they would reply: You complain that you cannot sleep, while I complain that I do not have enough waking hours! Time is so precious and I cannot accomplish all that is needed, and if I could reduce my sleep, that is what I would ask for. In practice, there is good advice for someone who has difficulty falling asleep: let him turn on a recording of Torah lectures, or pick up a sefer and learn.
Rashi cites the exposition of Chazal: "that all sounds of musical instruments seem to him like idle chatter" - yishachu is related to yasichu (talking or conversing). Just as talk and chatter disturb a person who seeks quiet, an elderly person no longer enjoys singing, viewing it as mere noise. This is a very common reality among the elderly: "Turn off that noise over there!" This is not referring merely to modern electronic music, where their complaint is understandable - but even music considered classical becomes noise to an aged person.
According to its plain meaning (peshat), Rashi notes that the word is written with a shin and not a sin, indicating that the connection to conversation (sichah) is a homiletical exposition (derash). According to the literal sense, yishachu means they will be brought low (yishpalu) - male and female singers will be degraded in his eyes. He attaches no importance to them, feels no desire for them, and has no interest in hearing their voices. This is what Barzillai the Gileadite said to David: "Can I still hear the voice of singing men and singing women?" - not only because his hearing had grown heavy, but also because he no longer had the patience or enjoyment for it.
The Pesikta Zutreta explains that "the daughters of song" are the sinews of the neck that produce the voice, which in simple terms means the vocal cords. That is indeed the reality: even the most skilled chazzan and the greatest singer finds his voice distorted as he ages. Just as a child has one voice, and when he matures at twelve or fourteen his voice breaks and changes. How many singers were celebrated child prodigies, and when they grew up a bit, the wonder vanished and only the child remained; there was nothing left to hear, sometimes sounding worse than an ordinary untrained person trying to sing.
A story is told of a former child prodigy who recounted what he went through. He was world-famous; people would invite him to perform at weddings and events, flying him in from America for two hours and flying him right back, paying substantial sums. Incidentally, it is a mistake for parents to steer a child in this direction, dedicating his finest years to the stage. Later came the crisis, and he described how agonizing it was: people he had known and considered close friends did not make even a single phone call to ask how he was doing. It was a friendship running on a battery: once the battery died, the friendship vanished. As long as you were a figure in the limelight, it was glamorous to associate with you; the moment you lost that, people had no reason to seek you out. From this we see how drastically a person's reality changes from one stage of life to the next; when a person grows old, his voice trembles as well, and his entire existence is transformed.
In the Chevron Yeshivah of earlier years, the one who signed military deferments was Rav Meir Chodosh, ztz"l. In those years he was already advanced in age and would visit the yeshivah perhaps only during Elul to deliver a single talk. The talmidim would approach him to obtain a signature, and his handwriting was shaky, marked by a tremor. There was a student in the yeshivah who knew how to imitate his signature along with the trembling, thereby saving himself the two-hour round-trip journey - although seeing Rav Meir was worth any journey. What stood out about that signature? The trembling; that was its defining characteristic.
The Gemara recounts an incident of someone who knew how to forge the signature of a man whose hand trembled. How did he do it? He would tie his hand to a bridge (aguda); and because of the pedestrians crossing it, the bridge would vibrate. When he signed with his hand attached to the bridge, the resulting signature came out shaking, exactly like that man's signature. This illustrates the very point: as a person grows old, everything about him changes and his hands tremble - as seen earlier in the verse, "when the keepers of the house tremble," which refers to his hands and arms quaking and shaking. Likewise, "and all the daughters of song shall be brought low" - in his old age, he no longer has the voice to sing that he possessed in his youth.
Rabbi Chiya bar Nechemyah said: "The daughters of song" - these are the lobes of the lungs from which the voice emerges. Indeed, as a person ages, two things occur: the vocal cords weaken so that he no longer has his former vocal power, and in addition, he runs out of breath quickly and cannot hold or modulate a note, because the lungs have weakened. This explains the expression "daughters" (banot): just like "the daughters of Judah," which does not mean literal daughters but rather the satellite settlements surrounding the main cities. "Daughters" refers to that which is auxiliary or accompanying; therefore, "the daughters of song" are the accessories of song - the lungs, through whose power the breath of song is produced.
The holy Alshich teaches that even after the physical decline described in the preceding verse, a person can still confess before Hashem. Even if his family members discourage him, saying, "Everything is fine, you will live many more years" - one must not listen to them. Rather, as soon as the day arrives when the keepers of the house tremble, begin to rouse yourself and do not wait for the final moments. For afterward it will be too late and beyond repair: "And the doors shall be shut in the streets" - these doors are the lips, the doors of the mouth, as the Sages expound in the Midrash. His lips fall silent, and he no longer has the ability to confess. From here we see that the essence of confession (viduy) is verbal; even if one reflects upon it internally, that does not fulfill the mitzvah - the mitzvah requires vocal expression with the lips. Once the doors are shut, one can no longer confess; therefore, seize the time before reaching a point when it is already too late.
The author of the Imrei Shefer explains: "And the doors shall be shut in the streets" - the mouth and all its instruments, including the tongue, teeth, palate, and throat, serve two noble purposes: eating and speaking. Eating is certainly vital, as human life is sustained through it; yet far more elevated is the faculty of speech, which represents the divine element within man. Animals, beasts, and birds also eat, but a "speaking spirit" (ruach memalela) belongs to no creature other than man, and this constitutes his superiority over all creation.
Our Sages taught that speech is surrounded by two walls, bone and flesh: the Holy One, blessed be He, placed the tongue inside and enclosed it within teeth and lips, so that a person would have two protective walls preventing him from speaking unnecessarily. Yet these walls are not sealed barriers - they can be opened and closed, for there is honorable speech, appropriate speech, and praiseworthy speech, and there is also a need to eat. Therefore, the Holy One, blessed be He, provided the ability to open them: the lock exists, but it can be opened when necessary.
And why does the verse say delatayim (double doors) rather than delatot (doors)? The Malbim explains that in Hebrew, a noun ending in the dual suffix -ayim denotes a pair, whereas other plural endings refer to individual items. Delatot refers to multiple separate doors, whereas delatayim signifies a pair of matching doors that close together. Just like michnasayim (pants), which have two openings for the legs, or misparayim (scissors), which consist of two blades - the form signifies a pair. Thus, delatayim here indicates that one has a pair of walls: the lips and the teeth.
When examining how people manage these walls, one sees that some are guarded with their tongue and speak only what is necessary and proper. For them, these double doors are like the gates of a fortified city, perpetually locked; when necessary they open them, but as a rule, they keep them closed. This is seen in great people who speak very sparingly: they do not constantly publicize themselves, nor do they feel compelled to offer an opinion on everything and declare what they think at all times. Instead, they speak only when strictly necessary. When someone talks constantly, people stop listening to what he has to say; but when someone speaks only once in a while, his words carry weight.
In contrast, for one who is not careful with his speech, his walls are like doors opening onto the marketplace, accessible to every passerby, closing only at night - and even then not by choice, but simply because he is asleep. All day long, one sees him chattering incessantly. Regarding this, the wise king says: "And the doors shall be shut in the streets" - although throughout his life the doors of his mouth were flung wide open and he indulged in frivolity and jesting, in frivolous talk and mockery, in his old age the doors will be locked shut. Frivolous banter and mockery will become repulsive to him, and his soul will be alienated from levity and jest.
Regarding the second aspect - the use of the mouth for eating - the Malbim explains: "When the sound of the grinding mill is low." When a young person puts hard foods into his mouth, his teeth grind them, and the sound of grinding is heard far away. This can be clearly noticed: at a Motza'ei Shabbat shiur that was being recorded, the host served toasted corn and Bissli snacks, and one of the participants sitting near the recording device, bli ayin hara and gezunt, evidently made a Seudah Revi'it out of it - and throughout the recording, one could hear the grinding crunch. This brings to mind the Shas campaign broadcasts from twenty or thirty years ago produced by Rabbi Uri Zohar, which depicted youths hanging out with shawarma, but lacked the sound of chewing. Behind the scenes, he asked someone present to eat Bissli and make the sound, but no one agreed; so he took some Bissli himself, recited Borei Minei Mezonot, and chewed next to the microphone - and that is how the sound of the mill was heard in the background.
The elderly person, however, explains the Malbim, can eat only soft foods, and no sound is heard. Even if he wanted to grind his food - his teeth, if they are his own, are weak; and if they are dentures, he does not take risks. This is the meaning of "when the sound of the grinding mill is low" - it is no longer heard from afar.
"And one shall rise up at the voice of a bird" - his sleep is also stolen from his eyes. In his youth, who could wake him? His father would try to wake him, horses and chariots could pass, and there was no one to talk to; getting him to put on tefillin before Ma'ariv takes immense effort, for he sleeps like a log, and even the sound of drums will not wake him. Today there are special vibrating alarm clocks: they attach them to the bed, and when the entire bed shakes, only then does he wake up; some have even invented water sprayers and all kinds of techniques. These are the problems of youth; the elderly, Baruch Hashem, do not have them.
"And all the daughters of music shall be brought low" - all of a person's capacities to produce song and melody fade in old age. Even if he was a great musician or singer in his youth, his melodies cease in his old age; for even his ordinary voice becomes subdued due to age and is barely heard, and it becomes difficult for him even to speak.
גַּם מִגָּבֹהַּ יִרָאוּ וְחַתְחַתִּים בַּדֶּרֶךְ, וְיָנֵאץ הַשָּׁקֵד וְיִסְתַּבֵּל הֶחָגָב וְתָפֵר הָאֲבִיּוֹנָה, כִּי הֹלֵךְ הָאָדָם אֶל בֵּית עוֹלָמוֹ וְסָבְבוּ בַשּׁוּק הַסּוֹפְדִים׃ - They shall also be afraid of that which is high, and terrors shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall blossom, and the grasshopper shall drag itself along, and desire shall fail; because man goes to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets.
Rashi explains yira'u as "they shall fear": the elderly person is afraid of mounds and small hillocks in the ground, and fears going out to the marketplace lest he stumble upon them, since his gait is faltering and slow. "And terrors (chatchatim) shall be in the way" - from the language of fear, as in "Fear not, neither be dismayed (al tira ve'al techot)"; he experiences many terrors and anxieties on the roads. Rashi notes that the word chatchatim is a doubled root, like galgalim (wheels), kaskasim (scales), zalzalim (twigs), and the like.
Rashi explains this as related to "the pomegranates have blossomed" - even though it is spelled with an aleph, the aleph is silent and not pronounced. The meaning is that something blossoms and protrudes. Our Sages expounded: this is the hip socket (the *cliboist*, *anca* in Old French), into which the thigh bone is set; in his old age his flesh is emaciated and the bone protrudes - the hip bones of the elderly stick out, whereas a young person's flesh covers them, but an old person's flesh withers and the bones blossom and protrude. And what is "the almond tree"? Rashi explains: an almond tree, signifying that old age leaps upon him; for the almond is the fastest of all trees to blossom, and several commentators follow this approach, that the almond tree represents speed.
"The grasshopper" (hechagav) - as if written *ha'agav*, since the letters chet and ayin are interchangeable, both being guttural letters. This refers to the buttocks (agavot), meaning his rear will feel to him like someone carrying a heavy load, difficult for him to bear. "And desire shall fail" - the physical passion for women ceases, so that he is no longer intimate with his wife. "Aviyonah" (desire) comes from the root of "and he was not willing" (ve-lo avah), which refers to will and desire, as in "you willed" (avitem), and "I have longed for Your salvation" (ta'avti liyshu'atecha); the meaning is that desire has been nullified within him.
The Midrash states: "'And the almond tree shall blossom' - Rabbi Levi said, this is the luz bone of the spine, the vertebrae of the spinal column. 'And the grasshopper shall become a burden' - these are his ankles, which protrude. 'And desire shall fail' - this refers to the passion that makes peace between a man and his wife, which has ceased." So too in the Gemara, when a certain sage was asked by his student about his condition in old age, he replied to him: "That which brings peace to the home has ceased," for intimacy had come to an end.
Rabbi Yitzchak said: This teaches that every single righteous person is given a dwelling according to his honor. It does not say "to the World to Come," but rather "to his eternal home" - each person has his own personal, private world, according to what he built for himself. A parable illustrates this: a mortal king entered a city with his servants; when they enter, they all enter through one gate, but when they lodge for the night, each and every one is given a dwelling according to his honor. This appears in Shabbat 152a - with the memory mnemonic "bank" (Bet-Nun-Kuf = 152), so that you may remember it.
Why was this parable necessary? Because here in this world everyone appears equal, and there are even those who seem to be worth far less, perhaps because their bank balance is lower - yet know that on High their standing will be vastly superior. The king and his soldiers enter the city together, but does he lodge with them in the same tents? He stays in a luxury hotel while they lodge in the open field. This teaches you that although upon entering the world everyone appears equal, at the time of departure each receives according to his stature; and when they go to their eternal sleep, each receives according to his spiritual level. Do not judge a person's standing by his reality here, but by the true reality - the reality of the World of Truth.
The people of the Galilee say: Do things before your bier. The people of Judea say: Do things behind your bier. And they do not disagree - each master spoke according to his region's custom. Rashi explains that there were places where it was customary for the eulogizer to stand before the bier, and places where he stood behind it. Therefore, the Galileans said "before your bier" and the Judeans said "behind your bier," but the intent is identical: perform deeds that will be worthy for the eulogizer to mention.
And what is mentioned during a eulogy? A person's worthy deeds - how much he was a man of loving-kindness, how God-fearing he was, how devotedly he served Hashem. These are the genuine things. This does not refer to the superficial eulogies often heard today, whose entire substance is "we ate and drank good things together," or "may the clods of your earth rest gently upon you" - as though there were no World to Come, no judgment, and no Judge, and all that matters is that one rests pleasantly in the dust. In truth, however, the time of a eulogy is when the true reality of a person comes to light. The intention is not that one should perform deeds merely so that the eulogizer will praise him, but rather that what the eulogizer would say serves as a personal yardstick: at the time of your passing, would you want people to praise and mention this deed? That is how one knows whether an action is positive or negative.
The Midrash offers an additional interpretation of "and the mourners go about the streets": these are the worms, may Hashem have mercy. For them, a person's passing is like a marketplace and a celebration, since there is food to eat. It is told that Rav Landau requested that upon his passing, he be buried in the Ponevezh cemetery. They asked him: "Specifically there?" He replied: "Yes, because the worms of Ponevezh do not eat 'Landau.'"
And lest you say, says the holy Alshich, that once a person departs from this world he will find rest, and therefore it is better for him not to encounter someone who comes to frighten and deter him, urging him to hasten and repent. Know that when a person passes away, the Satan stands at his right hand to accuse him. And even in the soul's ascent - "They shall also be afraid of that which is high"; do not imagine that the path there is easy. "And terrors shall be in the way" - who knows what terrors await there. When a person departs, all his sins come like threatening dogs, and dread and terror fall upon him.
And as the soul journeys to ascend, numerous forces of impurity weigh heavily upon it like a heavy burden, swarming like locusts, dragging it this way and that, like a stone in a sling cast from side to side; these are the destructive forces created by his evil deeds. For this reason, it is customary to recite the "Song of Plagues" (Shir Shel Pega'im) during a funeral - against these damaging agents, especially those created from drops emitted outside of holiness, which surround him; and therefore we recite, "A thousand shall fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; it shall not come near you."
So too, they used to perform hakafot, a custom preserved among the Yemenite community: seven circuits around the deceased, to cast down the forces of impurity so they will not harm him. And among the residents of Jerusalem - a custom now accepted throughout Eretz Yisrael - an oath is administered that his sons and offspring should not walk behind his bier. The reason for this is that we do not want those "children," the drops wasted in vain, to follow him and cause him anguish and terror. And through this adjuration, those destructive forces are also adjured not to follow him. Therefore, the sons walk along a side path or in front of the bier rather than behind it, so that they may participate in the funeral while ensuring the deceased does not suffer from those forces.
And from here there is a great lesson: Do not say, "If I do not listen to him, I will be fine; he is only trying to frighten me." "They shall also be afraid of that which is high" - soon you will have to ascend on high, and the journey there is terrifying, "terrors shall be in the way." If you do not realize that it is for your own good to hear these things so you can repent and mend your ways, what makes you so confident? What makes you so sure you will not end up in Gehinnom?
And what good will it do to weep for the deceased after he has already passed away? "Man goes to his eternal home" - this is the world he acquired for himself, whether good or bad. Rather, "and the mourners go about the streets": There is no purpose for the eulogizers to be in the cemetery; instead, let them be in the marketplace - to awaken and inspire repentance in those who are still alive, those who are still in the marketplace. Words of awakening are no longer of any use to the dead, but if the eulogizer circulates through the marketplace and inspires people to take note of their ways, since every person is ultimately destined to reach this difficult reality, then through this they will mend their ways and avoid reaching such a dire state. In this vein, the Alshich also explains "the almond tree shall blossom (ve-yana'etz ha-shaked)": that the soul is diligent (shokedet) and, like a soaring hawk (netz), hastens to ascend above; "and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail" - everything he possessed in this world vanishes and ceases to be, and you understand that man goes to his eternal home.
From here, a person must realize: "They shall also be afraid of that which is high, and terrors shall be in the way" - on high, the path is full of terrors, and do not think they will roll out a red carpet for you. If so, a person must certainly awaken himself here in this world, and the sooner the better.
In these verses, Kohelet continues to describe the closing of the body's gates in old age: the doors that are shut, the fading sound of the mill, sleep stolen away, and the voice of song extinguished; the fear of obstacles along the way, protruding bones, desire fading away - until man goes to his eternal home and the mourners go about the streets. Yet this entire description is not meant to cause despair, but to awaken: to guard the doors of the mouth while they still possess strength, to confess with the lips while the lips can still function, and to remember that everyone receives a dwelling according to his honor, not according to his bank account. Eulogies must circulate in the marketplace, among the living, and a person's deeds will be measured by what is worthy of being said about him at the time of his passing - and therefore, the sooner the better.