By Rabbi Shani Abramowitz
Rabbi Shani Abramowitz
I have always been impatient with my own progress. Growing up, I collected hobbies like precious coins. But my problem was that I wasn’t always willing to do the work. So just as soon as I picked a new hobby, I was already moving on to something new — something else that I believed would be easier or would come more naturally.
I was fixated on perfection. On being good at something right away. I rejected the reality that we all know, that to be good at something, to get to Carnegie Hall, you need to practice, practice, practice.
In Parshat Korach we meet a character who contends not only with reality, but with the very act of becoming.
In the opening verses of the parsha, Korach gathers 250 men. We read:
“They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and G-d is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above G-d’s congregation?”
On the surface, this challenge to authority seems reasonable. In fact, we question authority all the time. We might even argue that our society encourages us to think critically about the people in whom we place so much of our trust.
And when Korach shouts, “For all the community are holy, all of them, and G-d is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above G-d’s congregation?” Of course we readily agree! Indeed, Jewish tradition emphasizes this principle– that every Jew is holy, worthy of relationship with G-d. And here, according to the commentaries, Korach may very well be referencing Sinai, when all Jews, past, present, and future stood at the mountain and received the Torah together.
Rav Elie Kaunfer, understands Korach’s protest differently from the classical commentators. Instead of understanding Korach’s rebellion as a simple challenge to authority, Rav Elie suggests that Korach’s anger is the result of being close to holiness, but not bearing that same level of holiness himself.
Rav Elie writes:
Korach watches his cousins (Moses and Aaron) approach the holy over and over again, and suffers the indignity of knowing that were he to do the same job, he would die. All he is allowed to do is carry the objects once they are covered.
So while we might initially think that Korach’s complaint centers on the holiness of the entire community, Rav Elie teaches that his frustration is borne of his status of almost holy. He is so close to the highest level– and yet can never reach it. Instead of looking at his status as an honor, Korach experiences it as an insult.
Jacob Milgrom points out that in various places throughout the Torah, the Israelites are not told that they are holy, but rather, they are commanded to become holy. Most notably, we see this construction in Leviticus 19:2:
Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy, for I, your God, am holy.
In every place where the Israelites are commanded to be holy, the word kedoshim, holy, is always connected to the root, hayah, meaning you shall be, but are not yet. With one notable exception. This exact moment in which Korach invokes the holiness of the entire community as the central argument of his rebellion against Moshe and Aharon.
Rav Elie points out that this may be Korach’s crime. He writes:
He is unable to reconcile himself with a status that involves becoming. He wants to claim that Israel has already reached the holiest status. In fact, however, Israel’s role is to strive for holiness, not represent a state of achieved holiness.
This reading of Korach seems to me to be a powerful invitation to do the work of becoming holy. Day in and day out. Not necessarily striving for perfection, but striving to be close to G-d through our imperfection.
And while our Jewish communities are no longer organized around the priesthood, the message remains relevant. We might not all be Kohanim, we might not all have had access to the klei kodesh of the Mishkan, but every single day, each of us makes thousands of small decisions that either move us toward or away from G-d.
Every year, in my Introduction to Judaism class, we learn about Kashrut. And one consistent takeaway is that we do our best to not be bogged down by the sheer volume of laws and restrictions. Mistakes are inevitable, especially when we are learning. Our challenge is to decide how we want to act in the aftermath of a mistake. Do we give up on our practice of Judaism because we failed in one small moment? Or do we transform that mistake into a learning opportunity, into a chance to take one more step toward G-d?
Questioning authority and the systems that govern us is a virtue; it is important, and it is a privilege. And perhaps that was not Korach’s crime. But imagine if Korach truly valued his place in the community. What if Korach understood that he had something essential to give to the community, to bring to G-d, even though he was not a priest– and maybe even because he was not a priest. What if Korach could understand that he was a holder, a transporter of Israel’s most precious gift. What could be more holy than that?
Shani Abramowitz is Rabbi at Ohavay Zion Synagogue in Lexington, Ky. Alongside Rabbi Ben Freed of Keneseth Israel Congregation, she also co-hosts The Bluegrass Schmooze podcast.