Life offers a profound advantage over death because it provides the constant opportunity for change. As long as a person breathes, the book of their life remains open, allowing them to fix their ways and shape their ultimate destiny. Even the lowliest existence holds a potential and hope that the most powerful figures lose the moment they pass away.
The primary approach among commentators is that anyone who remains connected to the world of the living possesses a fundamental security, which is hope. This hope is rooted in the ability to repent. Even if a person is entirely wicked and associates with other wrongdoers, the path remains open for them to regret their actions, correct their behavior, and earn a place in the World to Come. Once death arrives, this hope completely vanishes. Alongside this connection to life, the living possess the active power of free will. While those who are alive can choose between their good and evil inclinations, the dead are stripped of this ability [אבן עזרא, תורה תמימה, מנחת שי]. The sheer power of this opportunity to repent is so immense that even the wicked individuals who destroyed the Temple could have found hope had they changed their ways while they were still alive [תורה תמימה].
However, some commentators interpret these concepts through a more critical lens. One perspective suggests these ideas reflect the mocking questions of skeptics who deny the afterlife. These nonbelievers sarcastically ask if a person can truly expect to join the angels after death. Answering their own question negatively, they conclude that physical existence is the only reality that matters [תעלומות חכמה]. Another viewpoint offers a moral warning, cautioning that treating survival as the supreme value can be a dangerous illusion. If a person focuses exclusively on staying alive, they might end up sacrificing their noble character traits and moral values in the process [הערות לקהלת].
The contrast between life and death is sharply illustrated by comparing a living dog to a dead lion. On a basic level, a lowly life is preferable to death [ביאור שטיינזלץ]. A dog, often viewed as a despised creature, still has the capacity to overcome its base instincts and improve its ways, a potential entirely absent in a lifeless lion [אלשיך]. This dynamic is vividly demonstrated through the historical figure of Nebuzaradan, the military commander of Nebuchadnezzar. Nebuzaradan, compared to a lowly servant or dog, chose to convert to Judaism during his lifetime and ultimately earned a place in Paradise. In stark contrast, his powerful master Nebuchadnezzar, likened to a mighty lion, died in his wickedness and inherited Hell [רש״י, צאינה וראינה].
This sharp distinction between the living and the dead also appears in practical Jewish law. When King David, the metaphorical lion, passed away on the Sabbath, his body could not even be moved unless a loaf of bread or an infant was placed upon it. On that very same day, however, it was perfectly permissible to cut raw meat and feed it to the living dogs of his household [רש״י, תורה תמימה].
Yet, the absolute superiority of the living over the dead does have its limits. When the Roman Emperor Hadrian boasted to Rabbi Joshua that he was greater than Moses simply because he was alive while Moses was dead, Rabbi Joshua quickly proved him wrong. He pointed out that the Emperor's decrees were secretly violated by his own subjects on a daily basis, whereas the commandments taught by Moses, such as the prohibition against kindling a fire on the Sabbath, continue to be strictly observed by generations [תורה תמימה]. Finally, a unique perspective suggests that the advantage of the living over the dead is highly practical. The simple, living person ultimately benefits from the demise of the great leader, as they are left to inherit and utilize the wealth, opportunities, and achievements that the mighty figure left behind [הערות לקהלת].