Numbers Buried Alive or Reaching for Heaven: Korach and the Art of Holy Dispute

Parashat Korach (Numbers 16:1-18:32)

In the midst of the 2016 presidential election season, as our country and culture precipitously declined into further polarization and division, former First Lady Michelle Obama issued a simple yet exceedingly hard challenge: “When they go low, we go high.”

Though I doubt she derived this principle from a close reading of this week’s parasha, a similarly vital insight emerges from the central events of Parashat Korach.

At the beginning of the parasha, Korach leads a rebellion against Moses and Aaron, his fellow Levites and the leaders of the people. His central claim is that, because every person is holy, Moses and Aaron have inappropriately elevated themselves above the people in taking on the mantle of leadership.

The charge is obviously specious. Though there is merit to the notion of everyone being holy, this does not dictate a lack of distinction of roles or negate the need for hierarchy and leadership. Moreover, Moses and Aaron did not choose their roles but rather were chosen by God. Korach and his followers are motivated by baser instincts, and their argument is not in good faith.

Jewish tradition understands Korach as the paradigmatic example of how not to engage in disputation. As the early Rabbinic text, Pirket Avot 5:17 (Ethics of our Ancestors) teaches:

Every dispute that is l’shem shamayim (for the sake of heaven), will in the end endure; but one that is not l’shem shamayim, will not endure. Which is the controversy that is for the sake of Heaven? Such was the controversy of Hillel and Shammai. And which is the controversy that is not for the sake of Heaven? Such was the controversy of Korah and all his congregation.

Playing on the similarities of letters in Hebrew, a Talmudic teaching understands the word shamayim (heaven) to be a combination of eish (fire), and mayim (water): “The Holy One, Blessed be He, scrambled these two elements together, and made the heavens from them” (Talmud Bavli, Chagiga 12a).

In this understanding, the heavens are a new creation made of separate components. Moreover, as Rabbi Emma Kippley-Ogman ’10 wisely understands, the heavens are a seemingly impossible new creation:

“We imagine that mixing fire and water should eliminate one of the elements—fire should evaporate water or water should quench fire—but the coexistence of these apparent opposites is essential to Divine creation.”

The heavens are composed of disparate elements that should not be able to co-exist yet somehow combine to make a greater whole. We might say, drawing on the root of the word makhloket (dispute), which is chelek, meaning part, that disputes for the sake of heaven are ones that recognize that each disparate element is also part of a greater, interconnected whole and seek to honor their distinctiveness and interconnection. More than that, such disputes seek something new, maybe even impossible, such as two contradictory elements merging or commingling.

The Talmud offers an example of this in the relationship between the followers of Hillel and Shamai, who engaged in vehement and sustained disagreement about many religious topics. Most relevantly, they disputed matters related to marriage and ritual purity that could have caused them not to intermarry or eat with each other. Yet, they continued to do so. How? Not by eliding their differences but by taking their divergent perspectives seriously and alerting each other of possible circumstances that might be in tension with their own perspective so they could avoid them (Talmud Bavli, Yevamot 14a-b). Despite disagreement, they tolerated, respected, and honored the other, and their point of view, and thus remained in meaningful relationship.

Rather than divide us, disputes for the sake of heaven locate us in a broader, expansive whole in which we recognize and affirm our interconnection, and respect or, at minimum, accommodate our diverging points of view. This approach enables us to maintain the ties that bind us.

Korach’s approach is the opposite. It is zero-sum. “Its desired purpose is to achieve power and the love of contention,” wrote Rabbi Ovadiah of Bartenura in his classic 16th century commentary on the mishna (Commentary on Pirkei Avot 5:17). Korach and his followers are enthralled with their particular chelek (portion) to the exclusion of others. Moshe correctly understands Korach is not only rebelling against himself and Aaron, but rejecting God, the source of the heavenly quality that holds and connects us, even in our differences.

Fittingly, Korach and his followers are swallowed by the earth (Numbers 16:28-33). This repercussion is not just a punishment for their crime but an apt description of their spiritual state. Through their outlook and actions, Korach and company have cut themselves off from the heavenly expansiveness that connects us. Consumed by their earthy and earthly desires and needs, they are already spiritually buried alive and “living in Sheol” (Numbers 16:33), living but dead.

Understanding Korah’s spirituality in this way reveals an underlying truth: disagreeing “for the sake of heaven” is an internal commitment – a state of mind and stance toward the world. This commitment is independent of, though potentially influenced by, the tone and tenor of those we disagree with. But we have the capacity, regardless of circumstance, to engage as Hlilel and Shamai or Korach and his followers.

In a world riven by division and polarization, in which those with differing views are often described not just as wrong but as evil and an enemy, the challenge to resist and transform the Korach in our hearts and minds could not be more difficult or urgent. At stake is more than a point of view and policy prescriptions, though those are incredibly important, but the very fabric of our society and the integrity of our souls. This is not a statement of political strategy, which may require less than exalted action, but of spiritual and communal orientation and necessity.

We must go high, or we all go low, with Korach, down to Sheol, buried alive.

Rabbi Daniel Klein `10, MJEd`10 is Dean of the Rabbinical School of Hebrew College in Newton, MA. He previously served as Dean of Students and Director of Admissions at the College.

Explore Graduate Programs Tamid Adult Learning Classes Support Our Work