Table for Five: Korach

Cantor Michelle Bider Stone

Temple Beth Am

Who gets to speak with God? Who gets authority? Does anyone get to be closer to God than the rest of us? These questions have challenged religious authorities for thousands of years. They are at the heart of Korach’s rebellion. Korach challenges Moses and Aaron’s leadership, arguing that God dwells among all the people. Ignoring the irony that Korach was seeking power for himself, the statement, “the entire congregation are all holy,” has shaped Jewish life for generations. One of Judaism’s most profound teachings is that no one stands between the individual and God. Every one of us has direct access to the Divine. We are all created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God, and possess the dignity and holiness to enter into relationship with God. This doesn’t mean Jewish communities don’t need strong, inspired leadership, but it assures us that no intermediary is required for a rich and spiritual Jewish life.

Unlike some other traditions, clergy in Judaism are not gatekeepers. We do not need someone more learned, more spiritual, or more certain to speak to God on our behalf. Rabbis and cantors teach, guide and inspire. They may be companions along the way, but they are not intermediaries on your Jewish journey. God is in covenant with each one of us. The gift of Judaism is that holiness is not reserved for a select few; it is something each of us can cultivate and experience in our own lives, every day.

Rabbi Shaul Rosenblatt

Director, Better World Charity

Korach comes to challenge Moshe’s leadership with 250 men. How could they all want the top job? Or were they merely cheerleaders for Korach himself?

Perhaps our verse itself provides the answer. The entire nation is holy, and God is in their midst. Korach’s argument – disingenuous as it was – questioned the very idea of leadership for the Jewish People. Great human beings surely can lead themselves.

In an ironic twist, Korach’s story provides the answer to his own question. Even a holy people, with God in its midst, is subject to the vagaries of its humanity. Godly people can be misled by arrogance; they can become consumed by jealousy; and they are prone to the seduction of wealth. A Godly nation can still produce Korachs, Dasans and Avirams.

And leadership is what stands in the way. It is not privilege, as Korach perceived, but responsibility. Time and again, Moshe complained of the burden of leadership. Yes, leadership can be abused, as Korach would certainly have done, but genuine leadership is service. As Chazal tell us, a king is ‘”the servant of the people.”

To volunteer for leadership is to volunteer for menial work; to volunteer to be abused, to be criticized, to be disrespected. Moshe took this on because of his love for the Jewish People and its mission. Korach, and his accomplices, sought it for the love of themselves.

Korach set out to prove that leadership was unnecessary. Instead, he demonstrated why it is indispensable.

Rabbi Tovia Singer

OutreachJudaism.com and YouTube

One of the most striking paradoxes in the Torah emerges from the rebellion of Korach. Standing against Moses — the most reluctant leader in Scripture, the man who pleaded with God not to send him — Korach declares: “The entire assembly is holy” (Numbers 16:3). It is an astonishing statement. In the very act of betrayal, Korach extols the holiness of the Jewish people.

And he is not alone.

Haman, seeking to persuade Achashverosh to annihilate the Jews, describes them as a distinct nation faithful to its own laws. Balaam, hired to curse Israel, can utter only blessings, foretelling redemption and the rise of a messianic king. Again and again, those who stand against Israel speak with awe of the Jewish people.

Yet the prophets of Israel speak very differently. Isaiah opens with words that scorch like fire, comparing Israel to Sodom. Jeremiah weeps over the nation’s betrayal. Joel thunders with relentless rebuke. The harshest criticism of the Jewish people comes not from Israel’s enemies, but from her greatest spiritual leaders. Why? Because enemies do not seek Israel’s transformation. They observe the Jewish people from afar and marvel at their uniqueness, their endurance, and their covenant. But the prophets loved Israel too deeply to flatter her. Their mission was not admiration, but elevation. Love that seeks greatness does not conceal wounds; it exposes them so healing may begin. The prophets rebuked Israel because they believed she could become what God called her to be: “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” Their criticism was pregnant with faith — faith in Israel’s destiny and in the glorious future foretold by Isaiah: that Israel was set to emerge “a light unto the nations” (Isaiah 49:6).

Rabbi Peretz Rodman

Masorti Rabbi and Author, Jerusalem

Rabbi Israel Salanter, the Musar Movement’s founder, once came to synagogue on his father’s yahrzeit. Also present was a man hoping to say kaddish on his daughter’s yahrzeit.

At that time Mourner’s Kaddish was said by just one person. (Extra recitations were added later.) The other worshipper was distressed to learn that Kaddish would be reserved for the rabbi, since the yahrzeit of a parent takes precedence. Hearing that the bereaved father was aggrieved, Salanter approached him and offered, pleaded and even, as rabbi, instructed the man to recite the Kaddish at the end of the service.

Later, Salanter’s students asked him, “How could the good rabbi treat the mitzvah of honoring his parent so lightly, letting someone else say kaddish?” He replied, “I am very happy that I was able to credit my late father, from his grave, with the mitzvah of gemilut hasadim (gratuitous kindness),” brushing aside considerations of his own honor or entitlement.

True leadership requires true humility. Moses, “the most humble of all people” (Numbers 12:3), was the object of a smear campaign. He and Aaron were not self-appointed, a fact that he refrains from declaring but soon effectively demonstrates.

All Israelites may be holy, but there is still a need for leadership, divinely appointed or democratically elected. In our society, some are chosen to lead but all citizens are equal before the law. It behooves the leaders to practice humility.

Rabbi Janet Madden Ph.D.

Malibu Jewish Center and Synagogue

When Korach and his followers confront Aaron and Moshe, asserting “rav lachem,” their statement parallels G-d’s chastisement of Moshe, who is told “rav lach” when he begs for what he cannot have.

The aggrieved Korach also wants what he cannot have. His specious assertion that his cousins have “raised themselves” is fueled by desire for his own elevation. His argument that “all the congregation are holy” is, ironically, true. But his argument’s motivation undercuts its validity; his argument’s catalyst is not L’shem Hashamayim, as cited in Pirke Avot 5:17. Its Latin derivation, invidia, “non-sight,” connects envy to blindness, perhaps an inability to think clearly or consider something beyond one’s own desires. Mental health professionals suggest that envy is connected to personal pain, stemming from a sense of inadequacy. Joseph Epstein argues in his 2003 book Envy that it is the only sin that offers no pleasure, a position rooted in Proverbs 14:30’s teaching that “envy rots the bones.”

The tenth of the Aseret HaDibrot addresses envy (kinah), which carries the potential for growth, but which also drives conflict. Korach’s argument leads to communal schism and personal destruction. But “rav lachem” and “rav lach” might also be understood as “You have enough. You are enough,” words that offer hope and peace, powerful alternatives to envy. The consequences, as Korach’s story demonstrates, make literal the words of Rabbi Elazar Ha-kappar in Pirkei Avot 4:21: envy, lust and [the desire for] honor put a man out of the world.