THE
THREAD OF TRUTH – PARSHAT KORACH
Shira Smiles shiur
– June 20, 2011/Sivan 17, 5771
Summary by Channie Koplowitz
Stein
Many great men fail and fall
miserably, often
carrying others with them, because of a fatal flaw in their reasoning.
Unfortunately, Korach fell into this trap, taking two hundred fifty men
with him. If we examine his words and the questions he asked, we will
come to realize how he erred so catastrophically.
Korach challenged the
necessity of Moshe’s leadership
by demanding, “… The entire assembly (Bnei
Yisroel) – all of them – are holy and Hashem is
among them; why do you exalt yourself over the entire congregation of
Hashem?” Then the Medrash cites the two questions Korach
asked to bolster his argument. First he
asked, if a tallit (prayer shawl) is
completely techelet,
a special blue color derived exclusively from a particular sea
creature, is it then still necessary to have tzitzit
(fringes)
and a thread of techelet on each corner of the
garment, as Hashem commanded.
Korach was extrapolating
from the explanation
of our Sages: the blue will remind the wearer of the sea, which will in
turn remind him of the heavens, which will then remind him of the
sapphire throne of God and will ultimately remind him of the Oneness of
the Creator. However, if the entire garment is
this color, we are already reminded of God by the overwhelming color.
Why do we still need the particular thread of blue?
The second question Korach
posed seems equally
perplexing: If a room is completely filled with holy books, is it still
necessary to affix a mezuzah
to the doorpost to further sanctify the space?
Rabbi Grosbart in Daas
Schrage explores Korach’s
questions. He understands that Korach is focusing on the end result,
the constant reminders of God’s presence and the holiness
that we must try to
achieve. On that basis, Korach believes we have already achieved that
level. We were all at Sinai and became a holy nation. Why then do we
need Moshe to show us how to be holy? In the same way, looking at an
entirely blue tallit will keep us constantly aware
of Hashem’s presence, even more obviously than a thin blue
thread.
Korach, who was so great and
holy that he was
among the Levites who personally carried the aron on his shoulder when Bnei
Yisroel traveled
in the desert, felt we had already achieved the level of holiness which
was the ultimate goal of the
tzitzit and
mezuzah. If we’ve already
achieved that goal, reasoned Korach, the mitzvah meant to achieve
that goal is no longer necessary.
Rabbi Grosbart presents two
fallacies to Korach’s
argument. First, we do not know the full reason for any mitzvah, even
if Hashem has given us one reason. We must perform the mitzvoth because
Hashem commanded them, not because we think we know the ultimate goal
of the mitzvah. Korach was asserting his own
intellect as higher than that of Hakodosh Boruch Hu, so it was
appropriate that his end be below.
The second fallacy is
perhaps even more glaring.
If you eliminate the process, asks Rabbi Grosbart, how can you
guarantee that you will actually achieve the end result? Even within
each individual mitzvah, there are multiple levels of performance and
achievement. How much joy did you feel in performing the
mitzvah, how much alacrity did you demonstrate?
Rav Reiss in Meirosh
Tzurim takes these ideas one step
further. While it is true that we may explore the reasons for the
various mitzvoth, we can never know their ultimate purpose. Our duty is
to follow Hashem’s commandments in simple faith and purity.
Korach did not carry the Ark of the Lord as much as the Ark carried
itself and allowed him to put his shoulder under it; our minds cannot
grasp the intricacies of God’s purpose in the commandments
except to understand that they are there to uplift us and to help us
reveal the light of Torah.
Rav Reiss cites an analogy
from the Meshech
Chochma. He states that just as a
garment such as a tallit
hides the body, so does the world conceal the Godliness within it. We
can wrap ourselves in the tallit, but the corners are still free, and
from them hang fringes that connect what is wrapped within to what is
external to the tallit. Our mission is to tie those
strings up so we connect the inner world of holiness to the outer,
natural, secular world. As important as the end goal is, the process is
equally important. Unless we tie up those strings, we will never
connect the two worlds. Korach wanted to eliminate the
process so that performing mitzvoth would become a mathematical
calculation of how many were performed rather than creating a
connection and internalizing the message, whether it be the message of
the mezuzah,
the tallit, or the roomful of holy
books. Korach, therefore, was punished by being swallowed
whole by the earth, leaving no impression behind on this world.
Teachers and leaders, such as Moshe, are there to help illuminate the
path and to help each generation make the appropriate connections.
Rabbi Friefeld in The
Force of Light makes a profound
observation. Man is created with a yetzer
tov and
a yetzer
ra. These are usually
erroneously translated as a good inclination and an evil
inclination. Rather, he says, these yetzorim imply the exalted position
of mankind in
the world, as a yotzer, a creator. Man has the
ability to create positive energy or negative
energy with each word and action he takes. It’s not about the
total image somewhere, but of creating the connections, through the
strings and the knots, to release the positive energy into this world.
Each blessing we utter, each commandment we perform, each
law we observe creates positive energy and light. This is what the
strings of the tallit
represent.
Along these lines, the
mekubal Rav Chaim Hakohen
elucidates both Korach’s initial statement and his error. It
is true, explains Reb Chaim in Tallilei
Chaim, that we are all
intrinsically holy, for we each have within us a spark of the Divine.
He explains that each of us has five non physical components. The three
which
manifest themselves on earth are
nefesh, ruach,
and neshama. These can be roughly
equated with ego, id, and superego. But each of us also
has two components which remain in the upper realms, chaya and
yechida. On the highest level of yechida,
Korach was right; we are in fact totally holy. We reached that level at
Sinai when Moshe came down from the upper realms toward the people to
hear Hashem speak the Ten Utterances. On this level, our actions do not
count.
However, we do not live on
that level. We live
in a physical plane of existence. Hashem wanted to give meaning to our
lives, so he contracted this great light and energy and filled the
voids with darkness. The light is still found within each of us, even
as the “pintele
Yid,” but now it is
up to us to release this light through our deeds. In the upper realms
where only the light of holiness exists, the righteous are encircled
around Hashem,
each equidistant from the Source of all. But on earth, we must follow a
straight path to reach that circle. There are areas in time and space
that are closer to that shining light, that have more innate holiness,
whether it is the time of Shabbat or the place
of Israel or the Temple, and it is also hidden deep within ourselves.
Rav Chaim continues. Every
time I say a bracha,
smile at someone, perform an act of chessed, I am peeling away a layer
of darkness to reveal a little more light and brings me closer to my
inner circle of holiness. But
Korach did not want to go through the process. He wanted to start at
the core and remain there without connecting to the real world of the
mundane and obstacles. And he refused to accept that Moshe, as rabbis
in every generation,was there to help us along the
path.
This point is further
elucidated by Rabbi Wolfson.
The seven strings of the tzitzit on the corners of a tallit
represent the physical, mundane world of seven. The eighth string, the
techelet, represents the holiness of Hakodosh Boruch Hu. If we are to
reach that holy realm, we must intertwine this world with the other
through our holy actions, incorporating each thread
as a ray of light.
In Bishvili
Nivra Haolam, Rabbi Brazil validates
these ideas with concrete examples. He starts with the custom of
kissing the mezuzah
as we enter or leave a room. While the mezuzah reminds us of
Hashem’s presence and uniqueness,
the hand that touches that mezuzah and is then brought back
into our line of vision as
we kiss it is a reminder of our own uniqueness, for no two handprints
and fingerprints are alike. The lines that score the text of the mezuzah
are symbolically reflected in the lines of my palm. Similarly, when we
use our hand to cover our eyes while saying Shema,
we are bearing witness not only to the Oneness and Uniqueness of the
Creator, but also to the uniqueness of me, His creation. Everything
about me is given to me because I have a unique mission, just as my
hand is unique. What God envisioned as my unique task
on earth, as my path to drawing down sparks of light to this world, are
all embodied in the package that became Me, whether it is a specific
talent, characteristic, or material entity that I possess.
Perhaps we can achieve even
greater clarity when
we hold our hands up to the havdalah candle and bring the palms
back to look at them,
continues Rabbi Brazil. The havdalah flame reminds us of
Adam’s fear after the sin and
the darkness that descended as a result. But Hashem gave Adam the means
to create light with his own hands, as we ourselves can create that
light and bring sparks of the hidden light to earth through the actions
of our unique hands.
As we peel away more layers
of darkness through
our mitzvah observance, create more connections with that holy state
buried deep within each of us, and bring down more sparks of holiness
from above, we are bringing closer the day when we will truly be a
nation that is all holy, and when the entire world
will recognize the light that Hashem has hidden for us that Bnei
Yisroel is destined to share with the world.