Shaarei Shamayim

KORACH 5770

Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect? Why do so many of the hoped-for, happy endings end up the opposite of what we wanted?

We’re all watching with great concern the disastrous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, particularly because we remember the disastrous Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska. The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after that spill was $80,000. At a special ceremony, 2 of the most expensively saved animals were released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later, a killer whale ate them both. Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect?

2 animal rights protesters were protesting the cruelty of sending pigs to a slaughterhouse in Bonn. Suddenly, the pigs, all 2,000 of them, escaped through a broken fence and stampeded, trampling the 2 hapless protesters to death.

Why do things so often turn out differently than we expect? It’s sometimes a very weird world we live in, isn’t it? Yet, these unexpected, tragic outcomes seem little different from what we find in today’s Torah portion. Korach, a cousin of Moses, and, therefore, a member of the priestly tribe of Levi, decided to, “rise up against Moses, together with 250 Israelites, chieftains of the community chosen in the assembly, men of repute. They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, ‘You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and Gd is in their midst. Why, then, do you raise yourselves above Gd’s congregation?’”

That doesn’t sound too terrible, does it? These are all reputable people of the community. If they have a criticism of something Moses and Aaron have done, is it such a crime that they voice it? They seem to be making the valid point that all the people are holy, and hence, should have more of a say in what’s going on. They seem to be asking for something we deeply cherish: greater democracy.

But the response is hardly what you’d expect. Moses attempts to put down the rebellion by appealing to some of Korach’s supporters—but without success. He gets extremely upset and challenges his critics to a duel with their fire-pans and incense. Scarcely had he finished speaking when the ground under them began to quake and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up. All Korach’s people and all their possessions went down alive, the earth closed over them and they vanished: “And a fire went forth from Gd and consumed the 250 men offering the incense.” (Numbers 16:35)

As if that wasn’t enough, the very next day, a terrible plague broke out in the camp to punish those who were still sympathetic to Korach. This time, it was Aaron who put incense on his fire pan—as instructed by Moses—as he went out to the people to try to stem the plague. He stood between the dead and the living until the plague was checked. Gd then settles the matter of who is to be the high priest and the leader through a miraculous sprouting of blossoms on Aaron’s staff. 

Obviously, things are not what they seem. It’s like the woman who came home to find her husband in the kitchen, shaking frantically with what looked like a wire running from his waist toward and electric appliance. Intending to jolt him away from the deadly current, she whacked him with a handy plank of wood that happened to be by the back door, breaking his arm in 2 places. Till that moment, he had been happily listening and dancing to his IPod.

The missing IPod for the Korach story is found right at the very beginning: “Korach, son of Yitzhar, son of K’hat, son of Levi.” Usually, the Torah introduces people as so-and-so, the son or daughter of so-and-so. For the grandfather to be listed is unusual. For the great-grandfather to be listed, as it is here, is practically unheard of. The commentators, of course, want to know why.

Their answer is brilliant. Korach’s grandfather, they point out, had 4 sons—all of them, of course, Leviim. The eldest was Amram. His sons, Moses and Aaron, received the religious and political leadership of the people. The next eldest was Yitzhar, Korach’s father. The youngest was Uzziel. It was Uzziel’s son, Elitzafan, who received the honor of leading the tribe.

There was the problem: plain, old-fashioned jealousy. Korach felt that the honor of leading the tribe should have been his since his father was older. Since he didn’t get it, we would probably be correct in assuming he didn’t deserve it and his actions only confirm that. Korach was wealthy. He had a good family. He was respected. He was smart. He was well-liked. What more could he want? But it didn’t matter what he had. He only wanted what he couldn’t have—and that was power and when he couldn’t have it, revenge.

Once we understand the motivation for the crime, the punishment begins to make sense. Korach tried to “swallow up” all legitimate leadership in order to elevate himself. He swallowed up the needs of the community, of his friends, neighbors, and relatives. Hence, it was fitting that he and his followers were swallowed up. The plague of jealousy and illegitimate criticism of Moses and Aaron that he unleashed took a high toll in the community. Had it continued to spread, who can say if our people would ever have made it out of the wilderness to the land of Israel?

Jealousy usually begins with a small seed. And that seed begins with not appreciating one’s inner worth—that we are each an image of Gd and, therefore, of infinite value. And as jealousy spreads it can become all-consuming and destructive. There are certain forms of jealousy that are positive and good. There’s the concept in the Talmud of kinat sofrim, “the jealousy of scholars.” It’s good to be jealous of someone else’s knowledge, so that you would work to be more knowledgeable. It can be good to be jealous of the amount of tzedaka that some else gives, so as to aspire to give more yourself. But to covet someone’s possessions or wife or position can be most destructive—and a great sin. It’s saying to Gd that your management of the world is wrong —a world where some else has what you think you should have, a world where Moses is the leader and not Korach. If one can appreciate one’s inner holiness—one’s real value and worth as a human being—than there is little reason to ever be jealous.  

Why have the Jews consistently been targets of hatred? Undoubtedly jealousy has played a strong part. What was Helen Thomas’ motive? Last Monday, Rabbi David Nesenoff launched his new blog www.rabbilive.com, and on it was a video he took when he went to the White House on May 27^th celebrating Jewish Heritage month with his son. He interviewed several people about their feelings toward Israel and then he noticed Helen Thomas, the dean of the White House correspondents, who always asks the 1^st question at a press conference—and he asked her. She was well known for her anti-Israel, almost anti-Semitic bias. However, thanks to Rabbi Nesenoff, we have it on tape saying: “Tell them to get the hell out of Palestine…they should go home to Poland and Germany.” This was too blatant and she had to resign. But everyone knew her bias before, so I wonder: if she had displayed a comparative view towards African Americans, would she not have lasted a year, let alone 4 decades? It can’t be because she was from a Lebanese Christian family because the famous comedian Danny Thomas was also from a Lebanese Christian family and he was a good friend to Israel. Undoubtedly, Helen Thomas has a deep issue about every human beings’ self-worth—especially hers!

Contrast that to the Detroit Tiger’s Amando Galaraga, who pitched, what was really a perfect game this week—a rarity in baseball. It only happened 20 times in more than 100 years. He was denied the honor because on the last out of the bottom of the 9^th inning, the umpire, Jim Joyce, botched the call of a routine ground out and called the runner safe. The replay clear showed that he was out by a step. What followed showed the innate goodness of both Galarga, the pitcher, and Joyce, the umpire. The umpire as soon as he saw his mistake on video literally cried when he realized that with his call he had destroyed a pitcher’s dream of a perfect game. Galarga with ultimate grace comforted Joyce and said that those are the breaks of the game and then they hugged each other.

The next day, Leyland, the manager whose task it is to hand over the scorecard with the day’s lineup to the plate umpire, gave the task to Galargo who came out and gave the lineup to Joyce. In a perfect orchestration of goodness Joyce who was supposed to have the day off was at the plate to receive the scorecard from Galarga. All this with the cheers of the crowd at the Stadium. These were 2 men of class who understood the value and the worth of every human being.

Eyzeh hu asher? “Who is truly wealthy,” asks the Talmud (Avot 4:1), hasomeyach b’chelko, “one who is content with his portion in life.” Let us learn from the mistakes of Korach and his followers, of the contrast of Helen Thomas to Amando Galarago and Jim Joyce, to be not only content with what Gd gives us in life, but to make the most of it, understanding that it will then bring out the tzelem Elokim, “the image of Gd,” within us, for as Korach correctly taught, “all of us are holy.” Amen!

Rabbi Mark Hillel Kunis

6/23/01