Dear TBZ community:
Every year as I encounter the story of the rebellion of Korach, which we read this week, I need to look into the text and its interpretation to remind me of the dangers of Korach. It is not always easy to be persuaded that he actually did wrong and deserved the wrath of God (especially when you teach this text to a teenager).
Korach and his followers rebel against Moses, and on the surface of the story it is hard to see why this is so wrong. Korach and his followers make some arguments that sound good. They argue that “all the community are holy”:
וַיִּקָּהֲלוּ עַל־מֹשֶׁה וְעַל־אַהֲרֹן וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֲלֵהֶם רַב־לָכֶם כִּי כׇל־הָעֵדָה כֻּלָּם קְדֹשִׁים וּבְתוֹכָם יְהֹוָה וּמַדּוּעַ תִּתְנַשְּׂאוּ עַל־קְהַל יְהֹוָה
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 Adonai is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above Adonai congregation?”
How is rebellion a problem? And how is Korach’s rebellion so wrong? Israel is a nation born in rebellion against Egypt. Abraham became the first monotheist (the first “Jew”) when he rebelled against his father. We can go through our stories and history and see clearly the value of rebelling against evil, against injustice, against those who try to oppress us.
America too, as we celebrate this weekend, is a nation born in a revolution against England. Thomas Jefferson wrote to James Madison that “a little rebellion now and then is a good thing.”
Can’t rebellions actually be good? Of course. Pushing against leaders with autocratic tendencies sounds right.
Growing up in Chile, I lived under the Pinochet dictatorship. Until I was fifteen, I knew that if I didn’t follow the rules -- if I did not accept the current reality -- I could be at risk, real risk. I could be killed. Disagreement was not acceptable. Dissent was dangerous. Standing up in protest meant putting your life in jeopardy. Many people who had dared to speak out against the Pinochet regime were forcibly “disappeared” – never to be seen again.
How can I criticize Korach for standing up for what he believed? The text makes it even harder for me by quite literally “disappearing” Korach as punishment for his rebellion: the earth opens and swallows Korach and his household.
Rabbinic tradition fills in the missing background, giving us a fuller picture of Korach as a demagogue who was only out for himself.
In Pirkei Avot 5:17 we learn:
כָּל מַחֲלוֹקֶת שֶׁהִיא לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, סוֹפָהּ לְהִתְקַיֵּם. וְשֶׁאֵינָהּ לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, אֵין סוֹפָהּ לְהִתְקַיֵּם. אֵיזוֹ הִיא מַחֲלוֹקֶת שֶׁהִיא לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, זוֹ מַחֲלוֹקֶת הִלֵּל וְשַׁמַּאי. וְשֶׁאֵינָהּ לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, זוֹ מַחֲלוֹקֶת קֹרַח וְכָל עֲדָתוֹ
Pirkei Avot 5:17
Every argument that is for the sake of heaven's name, it is destined to endure. But if it is not for the sake of heaven's name -- it is not destined to endure. What is an example of an argument for the sake of heaven's name? The argument of Hillel and Shammai. What is an example of an argument not for the sake of heaven's name? The argument of Korach and all of his followers.
In explaining arguments and disagreements, the rabbinic tradition uses Korach as the example of an argument which is not for the sake of Heaven. Rabbinic tradition and the Midrash provide more explanations: Korach had self-serving motives. Korach stood up not for the well-being of the community but for himself, for his own ego, for his own power. Although it sounded like he cared and that he was doing this for the people, he was only concerned with his role, his recognition and his power.
Reading the Midrash, the Israeli scholar Nehama Leibowitz wrote: “Korach’s ranting contains the familiar rabble-rousing ingredients of demagogy.” Rashi for example explains that “Korach seduced the people. Many will ask how is it possible to conceive that the people who had been redeemed from slavery, for whom the waves of the sea had parted, who had received the Torah at Sinai, amidst thunders and lightnings, led by the cloud by day and pillar of fire by night - how was it conceivable that a people granted such miracles could succumb to the guile and abuse of one such as Korach?”
Korach’s motives, quest for power, and seduction of the people begins to sound familiar, does it not? Especially this week, as we continue to watch the January 6 hearings and learn that President Trump was personally aware of the potential for violence; that he chose to forge ahead on January 6, inflaming his supporters and sending them to march on the Capital in an attempt to stop the joint session of Congress and stop the certification of President Biden's victory. The story of Korach is a powerful reminder of the dangers of rebellions that are not for “the sake of heaven,” but rather are for the sake of destruction, and for the sake of power, greed, and ego.
As we celebrate the fourth of July this weekend I reflect on my own journey of becoming an American citizen: I became an American citizen just a few months before the 2016 elections. I felt called to do it so I could vote and fulfill this important duty. The day I became a citizen was an inspiring day for me. I stood at Faneuil Hall, with over 300 people from across the globe, and together we were welcomed as new citizens of this great country. The diversity in the room was inspiring, even breathtaking. As I took my oath, on my left stood an older woman from Syria and on my right a younger woman from Cape Verde. We waved our American flags and felt grateful to have found a safe and secure home in the United States.
The judge who welcomed us spoke about the greatness of this country because it is a nation of immigrants. She spoke passionately about the fact all of us have immigration stories to share, reminding us of the countless ways in which immigrants—citizens and non-citizens alike—have made this country great.
Each July 4th since, I feel this holiday as one that includes me, an American citizen, an immigrant, and I am honored to be counted among the many immigrants to this country.
However, I am also keenly aware of the fact that my immigration process and path to citizenship was relatively easy and straightforward. And so, I feel a particular responsibility to help other immigrants, who often experience much more significant challenges in this country. I feel the call to fight for what this country is about - a country where we are able to practice our religion freely, to choose our leaders democratically, and to have our basic needs for food, housing, education, and health care met. It’s a promise that is too often broken or unfulfilled but we do not give up.
We do not give up, we do not let demagogues, and those who only care for themselves, who are guided by greed and power to decide our fate. And thus, even though we are living during tragic times, times where some of our basic rights are being denied, especially to minorities, women, people of color - this July 4th I choose to continue fighting for what is right and just.
As a new American, I will continue to show up, make noise, and bring the best of our country’s values to life. As a rabbi, that means praying with my feet and bringing my community into the good fight for dignity, equity, and justice. Being American means building the America I want to see. Being Jewish means living by the Torah of justice. Both are a mandate to mend this broken world.
Take a moment during your July 4th celebrations to reflect on your journey as an American, whether you are an immigrant or you were born here. Join me in recommitting yourself and do not lose hope that this land can be a place that brings blessings to all its people.
Happy Fourth of July,
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessings to all of you and your loved ones.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May all those who are ill find healing.
May we have a joyful, sweet, and peaceful Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom,
