What Have You Really Lost, Human Being? Finding Meaning, Gratitude, and Joy Amid Life’s Fleeting Journey

Rabbi Naftali of Ropshitz was once seen dancing joyfully with his disciples while singing the verse: “Man’s origin is from dust, and his end is to return to dust.”

Someone asked him in astonishment: “Rabbi, what kind of song is that to dance to? If we come from dust and return to dust — how can that make you happy? Shouldn’t this be a tune of mourning, not celebration?”

Rabbi Naftali smiled and replied: “If man were made of gold and ended in dust, that would indeed be a reason to mourn. But now — since his beginning and his end are both dust — and in between he gets to pray a little, study a page of Mishnah, a page of Talmud, drink a bit of schnapps, and dance a little, shouldn’t that be cause for joy? Tell me, human being of clay — what have you really lost?”

A Letter of Comfort from Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv

When a young Torah scholar passed away in his prime, Rabbi Elyashiv wrote the following words of consolation to his family: “You ask why God did this. Of course, such questions are beyond human answer. The ways of God are hidden; His work is perfect. Yet I wish to share what is written in the Zohar, Parashat Vayishlach: ‘Rabbi Shimon said: David Hamelech was not destined to live at all. Adam, the first man, gave him seventy years of his own life — and so David lived seventy years, while Adam lived nine hundred and thirty.’ 

From this we learn that sometimes a person lives his years in this world as a pure gift — years granted to him by Divine kindness. One may live without realizing that every moment of his life has been given to him in mercy. Therefore, one must give thanks for the priceless gift of life — for the chance to learn Torah, to earn a good name, and to leave behind righteous children, a generation of blessing.”

“Better the Day of Death than the Day of Birth”

Shlomo Hamelech wrote: “A good name is better than fine oil, and the day of death [is better] than the day of one’s birth.” (Kohelet 7:1)

Why is the day of death considered greater than the day of birth? Because on the day of birth, no one knows what kind of person this soul will become. But at the time of death, one’s deeds are known to all.

Rabbi Levi explained through a parable (Shemot Rabbah 45): Two ships were in a harbor — one setting sail, the other returning from sea. People celebrated the departing ship, waving happily, while no one cheered the one coming into port. A wise man said, “You’re celebrating the wrong one! The departing ship — who knows what storms or dangers await her? But the one that returns safely from the sea — she deserves your joy!”

So it is with human life: when a person is born, everyone rejoices; when he dies, all mourn. Yet, in truth, it should be the opposite. At birth, we do not yet know what life will bring — what good or evil, what virtue or folly. But when a person leaves this world, having lived rightly and fulfilled his purpose, we can rejoice, because he has arrived home safely.

The Legacy of a Life Well Lived

Rashi adds that we see this principle reflected in the deaths of the righteous:

• When Miriam passed away, the well that sustained Israel dried up — showing that it had existed in her merit.

• When Aaron died, the pillar of cloud departed.

• When Moshe died, the manna ceased to fall.

Only at their passing did the full impact of their lives become visible. So too for every human being: the end reveals the truth of the journey.