Parashat Korach: From Jealousy to Teshuvah

Good morning, everyone! As we delve into this week's Parashat Korach, we uncover an added layer of challenge that faced the Jewish nation – a challenge that echoes through the ages and resonates deeply within our own lives: the insidious problem of strife, quarreling, and ultimately, jealousy.

The Book of Bamidbar, a symbolic journey through life's diverse trials, has already touched upon feelings of despair (Metzora), unchecked desires (Kivrei HaTa'avah), and flawed perceptions (The Spies). Now, we confront the raw power of jealousy, which, as Chazal teach, is the root of so much discord: "Kinah, Motsi, Aita, Adam min HaOlam" – jealousy removes a person from this world.

Korach: A Man Undone by Envy

Korach, a man born into privilege and prominence, seemingly had it all. From an aristocratic family, he was a bearer of the most important parts of the Mishkan. He possessed wealth, a family, and everything one could desire. Yet, he harbored a singular, consuming problem: jealousy. He constantly felt a nagging sense of lack, believing others had more, that honors bestowed upon his cousin Aharon (who became the prince of the tribe) were rightfully his.

While a simplistic view might label him purely envious, Korach was initially a spiritual man, a Tzaddik on a high level. However, once consumed by jealousy, his perspective warped. He ceased looking for something higher and became utterly subjective, fixated only on what he lacked. He desired to be the Kohen Gadol, not out of pure spiritual aspiration, but because he believed it was his due.

A profound verse in Tehilim (Chapter 48) offers a critical counterpoint to Korach's distorted view: "Diminu Elokim, Chaz de Cha buchare, Lecha Hashem… Kim Kylo, Kim Ken teh helte Hashem would praise you. Your name everywhere where Al Kitsve Aretz." This means we don't need to be in the "holiest of holies" to find Hashem or reach a high spiritual level. Hashem is "Al Kitsve Aretz" – everywhere, within our reach, exactly where we are, with whatever He has given us. Korach, however, refused to accept this, perpetually yearning for "more and more and more."

The Twisted Logic of Jealousy

Korach's skewed perception manifested in bizarre complaints to Moshe. He questioned the necessity of the tzitzit (the blue thread reminding us of our divine soul and the power of a single act) for a garment already "fully blue." He also asked why a room full of holy books (Sifrei Kodesh) needed a mezuzah.

His arguments were a direct assault on the very purpose of these mitzvot. The tzitzit and mezuzah are meant to guard and protect us, to remind us of divine connection and the constant need for vigilance against the world's temptations. Korach's insane logic suggested they were already "holy" and therefore above such reminders or the need for leaders like Moshe and Aharon. "We were all at Har Sinai," he argued, "we all said Na'aseh V'Nishma! If I can't be the leader, then no one should be!" This absolute transformation of his judgment led him to declare, "Kolam Kadoshim!" – "The whole assembly, all of them, are holy!"

But true holiness is not a given; it is a destination. Our purpose in life is to strive and reach holiness. Korach's jealousy blinded him to this fundamental truth, preventing him from seeing the wisdom and necessity of divine protection and guidance.

Paths to Preventing Strife and Cultivating Peace

How then, in our own lives, can we prevent the venom of fighting, struggles, and jealousy that sadly plagues our times and even, as we are taught, prevented the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash?

1. The Wisdom of a Woman (Chochmat Nashim)

The story of On Ben Pelet from the tribe of Reuven offers a powerful lesson. Unlike Datan and Aviram, who were consumed by their own grievances, On's wife wisely intervened. "What will you gain?" she asked. "You won't be Kohen Gadol. Why get involved in something that will not benefit you?" Chazal teach us the immense power of a woman's wisdom. Her "Chochmat Nashim" was not intellectual brilliance, but simple, common-sense reasoning: a fight will get you nowhere. It's about bringing things back to plain logic and striving for peace.

2. Taking Three Steps Backwards (Oseh Shalom)

After the Shemoneh Esrei, we take three steps back, bending right and left, and recite "Oseh Shalom." This ritual symbolizes the crucial step of "retreating," "taking distance," and "giving in" to achieve peace. If we want to exit a conflict, we must simply get out of it. Peace is within reach, but it often requires us to bend, to quiet ourselves, and to make amends. This concept is beautifully illustrated by the custom of interrupting a groom's speech at the Sheva Brachot. It's a gentle reminder for the newly married couple: in marriage, not always having the last word, and sometimes simply stopping talking, is the best way to foster peace.

3. The Bitter and Sweet Almonds

After the plague following Korach's rebellion, Hashem commanded the twelve tribes to bring their staffs, and Aharon's staff miraculously blossomed with almonds. This signifies Aharon's defining quality: "Ohev Shalom, Rodef Shalom" – a lover and pursuer of peace. The significance of almonds lies in their dual nature: bitter and sweet.

• Fighting (Machloket): Begins with the sweet taste of perceived victory, but inevitably ends in bitter regret.

• Refraining from Fighting: May start with a bitter taste of feeling hurt or taken advantage of, but ultimately yields a sweet sense of peace and a positive outcome for knowing when to withdraw.

4. Teshuvah and Unending Hope

We recite the "Perek Lamnatzeach Koch" (a psalm by Korach's sons) seven times before Kriat Shofar. Korach's sons, at the very last minute, made teshuvah, saving themselves and their family from the lowest depths. This teaches us that teshuvah is always possible, even when we feel on the precipice of falling. We can always make amends, and everything is possible through repentance.

The Shehecheyanu Mango: A Fortune Found in Mitzvot

Let me leave you with a heartwarming story. Many years ago, in Jerusalem, a very poor man had one cherished minhag: to perform the mitzvah of Shehecheyanu over a new fruit. Despite his poverty, he would save every penny to buy a rare, new fruit for Shabbat.

One day, he heard about a wondrous new fruit called a mango that had arrived in Eretz Yisrael. He went to the Arab vendor who usually supplied his new fruits. The Arab, astonished by the Jew's desire for such an expensive item, revealed a hidden fortune beneath a floor tile. "I work so hard," he said, "I have all this money, but I would never spend it on a mango! I'm saving it for better days."

The Jew, however, understood a deeper value. He somehow acquired the mango, made the Shehecheyanu blessing, and rejoiced in fulfilling the mitzvah. Months later, the Arab died, and his sons put the store up for sale, unaware of the hidden treasure. The Jew, remembering the fortune, borrowed money and bought the store, becoming a very wealthy man.

The moral of the story? The Shehecheyanu blessing is about realizing that every single day of our lives is a gift from Hashem. He sustains us, gives us life, and if we wish to refresh ourselves and bring constant new strength into our lives, embracing mitzvot is paramount. The greatest mitzvah of all is to remember: "Oseh Shalom Bimromav Hu Ya'aseh Shalom Aleinu" – He who makes peace in His high places, may He make peace upon us.

Have a wonderful, wonderful Shabbos!