To continue to embrace new opportunities and challenges is a wonderful character trait. We should never become complacent with our lives or our achievements. If we can do more, we should; nay, we must.
Then again, sometimes people who have everything in life inexplicably decide to go looking for completely new challenges and end up losing everything they had.
I am thinking specifically of the biblical gentleman named Korach, who bears the title of this week’s Torah portion. Korach truly had everything. He was clever, wealthy and from an aristocratic family.
Yet he decided to contest his cousins, Moses and Aaron, for the leadership of the Jewish people and, specifically, for the position of High Priest.
Moshe, of course, wasn’t looking for yichus (“status”). He was a most reluctant leader. Back at the Burning Bush, God had to argue with him quite a bit before he would accept the position.
Likewise, his brother Aaron was appointed by God Himself (no nepotism here whatsoever). Nevertheless, Korach challenged them—gathering hundreds of his friends, neighbors and rabble-rousers in a revolt and a mutiny against Moses and Aaron.
In the end, we read of several Divine miracles that led to the vindication of Moses and Aaron, and the unnatural deaths of Korach and his henchmen. They were swallowed up by the earth, together with their households. And there were further miraculous demonstrations clearly demonstrating that Aaron—and not Korach—was meant by God to be the High Priest.
But what motivated Korach? Rashi asks the question as follows: “Korach, who was a clever man, what did he see in this act of folly?” While Rashi shares the Midrashic explanation in much detail, allow me to offer a simple answer.
The opening words of the parshah are: “Vayikach Korach/And Korach took … .” But it doesn’t actually specify what exactly he took. The commentators explain that it means he took himself off to a side to argue with Moshe, or he took his like-minded villains, like the infamous Datan and Aviram, to join him in his rebellion.
Once, I heard a stunningly simple interpretation from the late South African Chief Rabbi, CK Harris, who said that the words meant simply that Korach was a “taker.” In this world, there are givers and takers. Korach was the latter. He had enough blessings and good fortune in his life to be completely content. But he always wanted more and more, never satisfied with what he had, no matter how much it may have been.
Basically, when you are a taker, you are perennially unhappy. No matter how good things may be, it’s never good enough.
In Psalm 115, part of the Hallel prayer, we contrast the awesome, infinite power of the Almighty with the impotence of the idols worshipped by the pagans of old. Among other things that we say are: “They have eyes but cannot see.”
Korach, too, had eyes but did not see. He failed to notice how much he had before embarking on a campaign to discredit Moses in the hope of bringing himself more honor and glory. He may have been clever and wealthy, but he was emotionally impoverished. He had everything one needs to be happy, and yet he was miserable. As some would say, he was a “misery.”
I am reminded of the story of the farmer who sent his son to boarding school. His son came home after the first term with a glowing report card. He got the second-highest marks in the whole school. But instead of appreciating his son’s achievement, the grumpy father said, “This is what I work so hard for to send you to such a fine boarding school? You couldn’t come in first!”
So, the next term, the son worked even harder and, with tremendous effort, got the top marks in the whole school. Nu? Do you think the grouchy farmer was happy? This was his reaction. “Well, if you got the top marks, I guess it can’t be much of a school!” Poor boy.
Thursday, June 18, is the third of Tammuz and marks the 32nd yahrzeit of my saintly mentor and teacher—Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe could be described as the diametric opposite of Korach. If Korach was a taker, then the Rebbe was a giver par excellence.
He gave and gave and never stopped giving over a lifetime of service to our community, the Jewish people, and indeed, to the world. And he always saw the good in everyone.
Yes, he challenged us all to do more and to achieve as much as was humanly possible, often beyond our own belief and self-estimation. But he most definitely appreciated whatever good people did manage to do, even the smallest things.
So, let us be happy with our blessings and grateful for our good fortune, and not pursue what other people may have. May we all be givers and not takers. As they say, takers may eat better, but givers sleep better.
