Seeing Korach In Me

Parashat Korach

This year, I find myself drawn to Korach.

That's not because I agree with everything he does. In fact, we know how his story ends. The earth opens, the rebellion collapses, and Korach becomes one of the Torah's enduring cautionary tales.

But the more I sit with him, the more human he seems.

After all, Korach's opening argument is not entirely unreasonable. "The entire community is holy," he says. (Num 6:3) And in a sense, he's right. The people stood at Sinai. The Divine Presence dwells among them. There is truth in what he says.

So what goes wrong?

The rabbis imagine Korach asking Moses questions that aren't really questions at all. They tell stories of Korach presenting clever challenges designed to make Moses look foolish. Whether those stories happened or not is beside the point. The rabbis seem to be noticing something very human.

There is a difference between seeking understanding and seeking victory.

I imagine Korach returning home after another confrontation. His father, Izhar, sees the anger on his face.

"Are you sure you want to go down this road?" he asks.

And I can almost hear Korach's response.

"Dad, Moses doesn't listen. He takes everyone for granted. This time I'm going to make sure people see it."

Izhar sighs.

"And if they do see it, my son, what then?"

At first, that sounds reasonable. Many of us have felt unheard. Many of us have wanted someone to finally understand our point of view. But somewhere along the way, something changes.

The goal is no longer to be heard. The goal becomes to be proven right.

And once that happens, Korach begins building a trap. At first it looks like a game of heads I win, tails you lose. No matter what Moses says, Korach has another argument. Another challenge. Another objection.

But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if that kind of game is an illusion. Because in the end, heads I win, tails you lose often becomes heads I win, tails I lose.

If the only acceptable outcome is that everyone agrees with me, then I have made my peace dependent on something I cannot control. If the only acceptable outcome is victory, then I have left myself no room to learn, no room to adapt, and no room to change course.

Korach thought he was building a case against Moses. Instead, he was building a cage for himself.

And that is what speaks to me this year. Not because Korach is uniquely wicked. Not because Korach is a villain unlike the rest of us.

But because I recognize him.

I recognize the temptation to become so invested in a particular outcome that I cannot imagine any other faithful path forward. I recognize the temptation to ask questions when what I really want is confirmation. I recognize the temptation to confuse vindication with wisdom.

The reason Korach's story survives is not because none of us are Korach. It's because, from time to time, all of us are.

,שבת שלום

Student Rabbi Ben