Jews of all persuasions and throughout our long and tortuous history have often turned to our Holy Scriptures for inspiration and advice, both in times of trouble and on joyous occasions.

Now is a good time to do just that.

Each week a portion of the Torah is read in the synagogue, and it is amazing how often events that occurred thousands of years ago seem to parallel our own lives, whether it be personal, communal, or national.

Truly King Solomon was wise to observe that there really is nothing new under the sun.

This week’s portion contains much that we can recognize, as it focuses on challenges to the established leadership, motives, coalitions, and, ultimately, Divine displeasure with the whole shenanigans.

Parashat Korach presents a complex and tumultuous narrative. This Torah portion, composed of 95 verses, details several rebellions and the subsequent divine punishments, all interwoven into a perplexing story. However, amid the chaos lies a profound lesson about restoring order and emerging stronger from challenging times.

A carving of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments on the facade of the U.S. Supreme Court building in Washington, D.C. Proponents of public displays of the decalogue say it has historical, not just religious, significance. (credit: Steve Petteway/Collection of the Supreme Court of the United States)
A carving of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments on the facade of the U.S. Supreme Court building in Washington, D.C. Proponents of public displays of the decalogue say it has historical, not just religious, significance. (credit: Steve Petteway/Collection of the Supreme Court of the United States)
At the core of the story are attempts by various members of the Israelite community to seize power. Korach and his followers seek religious and communal authority, confronting Aaron and Moses with the accusation: “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?” 

Korach appears, on the surface, at least, to be a spokesman for the ordinary folk, accusing Moses and Aaron of being dictatorial and without a mandate. Many of the commentators, however, are super-critical of Korach, painting him as an opportunist who is only interested in furthering his political career.

Additionally, two other community members, Datan and Aviram, direct their grievances specifically at Moses, suggesting their insurrection targets his personal authority.

The narrative is not straightforward; the details shift and change. Sometimes Datan and Aviram are depicted as allied with Korach, other times they appear separately.

It’s almost as if “the opposition” can’t agree on much else other than “the leader has to go.”

This narrative disarray mirrors the disorientation that Moses likely felt amid the multiple attacks on his leadership and vividly conveys the chaos of the Israelites’ desert wanderings to contemporary readers.

The feeling that the average reader has when he is confronted with this vivid picture is one of a chaotic, divided, and divisive nation that is united only in its opposition to the leader.

The climax occurs when Korach and his followers are instructed to offer incense in their fire pans alongside Aaron, testing whom God favors. 

The rebels’ offering results in their being consumed by divine fire.

The silent majority of the people just stood by and watched while this group of protesters pressed the self-destruct button.

What can we learn from this parsha?

If all of this sounds depressingly familiar, then we need to stop and think about what we might learn from this narrative so that we may progress in an orderly fashion in the here and now.

Following the fire pan debacle, God issues an unusual command: the Israelites are to make the fire pans into sheets to plate the altar. Commentators have pondered how these pans, used in an attempted coup, could become consecrated and used to beautify the altar.

Nechama Leibowitz, a major 20th-century commentator, observes that the “holiness of the vessels did not originate in the actions of those who sinned, but God had them sanctified to serve as a lesson to the people.” 

It was God who transformed the fire pans into sacred vessels. Thus, plating the altar with these pans symbolizes the re-establishment of ritual order and the resolution of the chaos instigated by Korach and his followers.

It is remarkable that objects once used to incite chaos and dissent can be elevated to symbols of beauty and holiness. Moreover, the altar will never be the same again. Every time the altar is used from here on, there is a physical reminder of the chaos that threatened to permanently divide and conquer the people.

The forever-changed appearance of the altar serves as an enduring memory of Korach and his fate.

This beautifully illustrates that order can always be restored from chaos, albeit through transformation. The renewed order, much like the altar, will inevitably differ from its previous state. In other words, things will never be the same again. Yes, life will be different, and, if we will it, better.

Contemporaneously, Israel faces a similar tumult. We are besieged from all sides, both physically and virtually by dint of the ubiquitous online hatred and constant criticism of our self-defense. Our right to our homeland is challenged daily and the nation is engulfed in turmoil. 

We must restore order, and to do so, it is imperative that we learn from past mistakes and ensure they are not repeated. 

Squabbling among ourselves, pursuing self-interest over the needs of the nation as a whole – this is what got us into the Korach mess so long ago, a tragedy that ended with the destruction of too many Israelite lives.

On behalf of the silent majority standing by and observing this self-destruction, my plea is for everyone to put aside self-interest, cut out the rhetoric, stop the internal fighting, and truly come together (rather than just parroting the jingle “together we will win”), and to fight the real enemy out there.

In these trying times, we must seek to transform our challenges into opportunities for growth and renewal, much like the sanctified fire pans. Only through such transformation can we hope to establish a lasting and just order amidst the chaos. And if we succeed, life here will never be the same again – it will be much, much better.

The writer is a rabbi and physician who lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya, and is a co-founder of Techelet-Inspiring Judaism.