This Shabbat we study the Parshah Korach, which refers to a man of this name who led a rebellion against Moses and Aaron (Numbers 16:1). Korach incites a mutiny challenging Moses’ leadership and the granting of the kehunah (priesthood) to Aaron. He is accompanied by Moses’ inveterate foes, Dathan and Abiram. Joining them are 250 distinguished members of the community, who offer the sacrosanct ketoret (incense) to prove their worthiness for the priesthood. The earth opens up and swallows the mutineers and a fire consumes the ketoret-offerers.  A subsequent plague is stopped by Aaron’s offering of ketoret. Aaron’s staff miraculously blossoms and brings forth almonds, to prove that his designation as high priest is divinely ordained.

‍

Chabad.org

‍

Korach was a rebel. He was the prime movement behind an effort to depose Moses and Aaron. For his efforts he was severely punished; he and his followers were lost in a sudden earthquake that literally buried them alive. Though many sinned before him and many sinned after him, Korach was the only one to be punished in this manner. Korach was not even the first to turn against G-d in the desert, why did Korach alone deserve this ignominious death?

‍

Korach was not only held responsible for his own sin but for the affect it had on the nation. His rebellion divided the nation. His disparaging remarks about Moses stimulated questions about Moses' legitimacy. It was the first fissure in the confidence that Moses had been able to inspire.

‍

For the Jewish community, no task is impossible as long as we remain united; when we drift apart our strength is weakened. For this reason Korach was so severely - and uniquely - punished. He introduced the community to conflict and deprived it of its most precious possession: its unity.

‍

Rabbi Lazer Gurkow 

‍

[Darkness] challenges us at every turn. It denies everything in which we believe—that there is purpose and meaning, that G-d is good and He is one. It laughs at our ambitions and scorns our enthusiasm, sets fire to our dreams and pours ice buckets upon our greatest aspirations. And when it challenges us this way, we defy it, stubbornly, repeatedly, from the immovable essence-core of our souls. We show it that all its efforts are futile and vain, for we are bound up inextricably with the core of truth. And so we too are beyond darkness and light, self and not self, being and not being. To which the darkness must eventually respond, “Yes. That is all I am here to say.” Darkness speaks, in silence. We will make it sing.

‍

From an article by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman

‍

When considering the story of Korach’s rebellion, we see that he was motivated by envy of Aaron’s position. The very desire to become High Priest demonstrates a noble aspiration on the part of Korach. In other words, he was a man of lofty and holy aspirations for spiritual accomplishments. Moreover, Chassidism explains Korach’s rebellion in context of the future redemption. In the prophecies of Ezekiel dealing with the Messianic era there is a puzzling expression: “Hakohanim-Haleviyim-the Priests-Levites” (Ezekiel 43:19 and 44:15), mixing, as it were, these two separate concepts into a single one. Rabbi Isaac Luria explains this expression by stating that in the Messianic era the Levites will be elevated to the higher status of kohanim (priests). Korach wanted to benefit from this already, in his own time, and he sought, prematurely, to achieve that status. Here again, this desire and aspiration is essentially good and commendable. He did not realize that it could not happen until the refinement of the world would be completed.

‍

From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet

‍

I attended a dinner for a local organization and the entertainer was a comedian. He got up and told the audience that the rabbi had called him and made him promise he wouldn't use any risqué material. Then, another committee member reminded him not to be racist or anti-religious or gender discriminatory. A third made him promise not to offend any minority groups. Having been duly stripped of every opportunity for satire, the comedian just said, "Ladies and gentlemen, good night," and walked off the stage. 

‍

The argument of Korach, the mutineer in this week's Torah reading, smacks of such inane political correctness. Korach accuses Moses and Aaron of nepotism, of grabbing positions of power for themselves. In doing so, he insists that "The entire community is holy. Why do you exalt yourselves over the congregation of G-d?” 

‍

In fact, the very same argument could be used against Jews in general. "Who do you think you are? Chosen People! Aren't all men created equal?" The fact is that Jews are different. Ask any anti-Semite and he'll confirm it. The blatant hypocrisy of the nations of the world and the international media in constantly holding Israel to a higher standard of morality than it does its Arab neighbors only reaffirms that Jews generally do adhere to a value system that is distinctive and unique. Indeed, we do.

‍

The Chosen People concept means greater responsibility, not privilege. Rather from making them pompous and condescending about it, it has molded Jews into the most sensitive, humane nation on earth. And that is precisely why if we do occasionally veer from those principles, it is such an aberration that it is considered front page news.

‍

My saintly mentor, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, thus explained the midrashic account of Korach's rebellion. Korach gathered his men and they donned garments made of the t'chelet (blue wool) used for the tzitzit, the fringes a Jew is commanded to tie on the corners of a four-cornered garment. "Does a garment made wholly of t'chelet still require tzitzit?" they challenged Moses. Moses answered in the affirmative and they laughed and mocked him. "If one strand of t'chelet exempts an entire garment, does not a whole garment of t'chelet exempt itself?" Said the Rebbe, this was precisely the argument of Korach. The entire "garment," i.e. the entire congregation, is holy. We are all t'chelet, holy wool. There is no need for distinctions between us. Why do you, Moses and Aaron, appoint yourselves leaders and exalt yourselves over us? The fact is, however, that distinctions are a necessary reality of life. Imagine if every fellow who felt like playing physician would hang up a sign outside his house and start dispensing medicine! We'd have a very sick society.

‍

The Rebbe was a great humanitarian. He was concerned about every nation and every single individual — Jew or Gentile — and tried to make a difference to the broader society. Simultaneously, he was adamant that Israel needs to be uncompromising in its territorial strategy to safeguard the security of its citizens.

‍

Humanitarianism need not mean blurring all the lines. There are doctors and lawyers, priests and prophets. The challenge of those who hold legitimate, genuine high office is to keep the distinctions from disintegrating into divisiveness.

‍

Fom an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman 

‍