Korach
Numbers 16:1-18:32
I Samuel 11:14-12:22
One of the interesting things about living in a predominantly Christian world is how Jews have defined themselves. One of those defining characteristics has always been that everyone has access to the Divine, and that we need no mediators in any form — no angels, saints or priests.
But when the Temple was standing, there were priests, and a restricted access to the Divine Presence. Our parshah this week is reflective of that tension, and contains a number of curious verses.
The text of Chapter 16 is both poignant and frustrating, for we understand the issues raised. The crux of the matter shows up immediately: “Now Korach, son of Izhar son of Kohath son of Levi, betook himself, along with Dathan and Abiram sons of Eliab, and On son of Peleth … combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, ‘You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?’ ”
In response to this, Moses sets up a test: He does not address the question of equal access at all. All contenders for leadership will come with their fire pans full of incense, and there will be a “sign” to show whom God wishes to be the direct agent.
Then, Moses asks Korach directly — isn’t it enough for he and his followers to be priests, separated from the rest of Israel, with the privilege of service in the sanctuary? He points out that they are really complaining against a Divine decision, and that to him feels quite audacious. In fact, it does seem that they are not really defending the average Israelite, but asking for a greater role for themselves.
Interestingly, Korach does not reply. Instead we hear from Dathan and Abiram, who say, “We will not come [to talk to you]! Is it not enough that you brought us from a land flowing with milk and honey to have us die in the wilderness, that you would also lord it over us? Even if you had brought us to a land flowing with milk and honey, and given us possession of fields and vineyards, should you gouge out those men’s eyes?”
Notice that here they are referring to Egypt as a sort of promised land, where everything was good. Can it really be the case that their disappointment is so great that they are nostalgic without memory of slavery and oppression? They then throw the unfulfilled promise back at Moses — if you had actually gotten us to someplace nice, you are still blinding us to our own experience of the Divine Presence. And such forceful language! It leads Moses to make a little side comment to God, just a reminder that Moses had not wronged them, and in particular, had not taken any of their property.
Then, it seems that things have gone too far: God’s Presence suddenly appears to the whole community, threatening to annihilate them. The last time this happened was at the crossing of the Red Sea, under vastly different circumstances. Obviously, this is a really important issue. What does it mean that just because of a complaint that fundamentally might create a greater connection between the people and the Divine, the very people who wish to be more involved in the connection, along with all sorts of innocent bystanders, might die?
Fortunately, Moses and Aaron intercede and only the immediate protestors are killed — or not, for Korach and his band are swallowed live by the earth.
Presumably, this stilled the need for equal access (as if the experience at Sinai was not scary enough). Still, it seems that in the minds of the people, in this instance and in many others, what they have is not enough — and I wonder if it is ever enough.
We, like Dathan and Abiram, do tend to look at the past with rose-colored memories — we are cautious about the unknown future, we want to be special, we want to be important. We are reluctant to let ourselves fall into the hand of God, to learn that the ways of holiness are sometimes not the ways of the brain or the ego. Perhaps in the end, this portion is here to remind us of the need to trust.
Rabbi Elisheva Salamo is the spiritual leader of Keddem Congregation in Palo Alto.