An argument for the sake of Heaven

In Israel, even a bus ride can become an existential experience. There are many Jews with a more conservative approach to modesty within Jewish tradition, who are very uncomfortable sitting next to someone of the opposite sex. I recall, once, on a long, crowded bus ride from Haifa to Jerusalem, watching a fellow in a long black coat and black hat struggling with this issue.

He was sitting towards the rear of the bus, when the fellow sitting next to him suddenly jumped up and off the bus. A woman standing in the aisle grabbed the seat, and this religiously garbed fellow now found himself trapped next to the window with this woman between him and the aisle.

Not wanting to give up his seat, and yet uncomfortable that this woman had chosen to sit next to him, the fellow opened the window. It was a cold winter day and the wind gusting in was clearly upsetting the woman who immediately glared at him, and in a loud voice said:

“Could you please close the window?”

To which he responded: “Could you please lengthen your dress?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” the woman responded.

“Your dress is ridiculous,” he replied.

“Why are you going to Jerusalem?” he asked, eyeing her short sleeves and short skirt. “You should go to a yeshiva!”

“Why are you going to Jerusalem?”She retorted. “You obviously need to go to a pub!”

At which point various members of the ‘audience’ began to pipe in as well, and the bus ride very quickly degenerated into a full-fledged session of the Knesset!

Ever have the distinct impression that people are arguing just for the sake of arguing? While we often have the opportunity to take a stand on important issues, sometimes people seem to be arguing simply for the sake of arguing. Indeed, one wonders sometimes when seeing the issues over which people become embroiled, whether there is any logic to the debate at all.

Take for example, the issue of road rage, which has become a widespread phenomenon on our streets and highways. It is difficult to imagine what could motivate people to become so upset and get so serious about who passes whom on the highway.

At first glance, this seems to be exactly what happens this week in our portion of Korach.

Korach, who bursts onto the biblical desert scene, seemingly from nowhere, is obviously upset about something, but it is difficult to find logic as to what that really is. He challenges the leadership of Moses, as well as the priesthood of Aaron, and none of Moshe’s attempts to enter into a dialogue with either him or his followers bear any fruit. Eventually, he meets a horrible end, as he and all those involved in this insurrection are destroyed, either by fire or by earthquake.

This story raises some challenging questions:

First of all, how could anyone in his right mind challenge the leadership of Moshe? After all Moshe has done, leading the Jews out of Egypt amidst a barrage of miraculous plagues, capped off by the splitting of the Red Sea, one would have thought his authority to be unquestionable, especially after witnessing his direct communications with G-d at Sinai. So what is this rebellion all about?

Further, to be honest, when one considers the actual contention of Korach, it does not seem all that unreasonable:

“Ki Kol Ha’Eidah Kulam Kedoshim,” “For the entire congregation are all holy.” (Bamidbar 16:3) This seems to be the essence of democracy. After all, claims Korach, we all witnessed G-d at Sinai, and all of us are holy, so why do we need a priesthood? Why can’t we all serve in the Temple?

It is interesting to note that our portion begins with the words: “Va’Yikach Korach,” “And Korach took….”(Bamidbar 16:1) however, the verse never explains exactly what it was that Korach actually took, and we are left without the end of the sentence. What does this mean? What did Korach take?

Equally challenging is the fact that a closer examination of the story of Korach reveals quite clearly the inconsistency of Korach’s claim. After all, the same individual rallying the people to the cry of ‘we are all holy,’ challenging a system that creates a hierarchy of leaders and those being led, has no problem claiming that same leadership (the priesthood) for himself….

Ultimately, G-d makes it clear that Korach’s rebellion is so terrible, that it must be completely destroyed by earthquake, a punishment the Torah points out has never before been seen in the world, and is a new form of punishment created for the express purpose (by G-d) of dealing with Korach.

So what exactly is so terrible about Korach’s contentions? After all, this is not the first time the Jews have argued with, murmured against, or even challenged the leadership of Moshe?

There is a beautiful teaching in Ethics of the Fathers (Avot 5:20) which discusses the concept of debate or argument.

“Every argument (Machloket) which is for the sake of heaven (“Le’Shem Shamayim”) will ultimately endure, but every argument which is not for the sake of heaven will not endure. And what is an argument (or debate), which is for the sake of heaven? This is the ‘argument’ of the students of Shammai and the students of Hillel.

“And what is an argument which is not for the sake of heaven (and therefore will, says the Mishnah, not endure)? This is the argument of Korach and his congregation.”

Interestingly, the argument fomented by Korach, says the Mishnah, “Ein Sofah Le’Hitkayem,” will not endure.

Judaism here is taking an important stand. The issue is not what Moshe and Korach were arguing about; the issue is why we argue at all.

The Torah does not tell me exactly what Korach took, because it isn’t important. Korach, says the Torah, was a taker. And in the end, the only cause Korach was fighting for was Korach.

That is why, suggests tradition, the Mishnah calls this argument the argument of Korach and his followers; really it should have said the debate of Korach and Moshe. Korach was really thinking only of Korach, and in the end, there was no room for anyone else.

It is interesting that the Mishnah describes the argument, which is apparently a righteous, or legitimate debate, as one that is for the sake of heaven (“Le’Shem Shamayim”).

Why does the Mishnah not say for the sake of G-d?

Indeed, the term ‘heaven’ (shamayim) is a term that has its counter in the earth or the ground.

“Ha’Shamayim Shamayim La’Hashem, ve’Ha’Aretz natan Li’vnei Adam” The heavens belong to G-d, but the earth has been given over to mankind.

Heaven represents endlessness, that aspect of our selves which is truly unlimited. The earth, on the other hand, represents the finite limitedness of this material world.

The question to consider then, when involved in any debate, is which of these two am I feeding: is the goal of the debate to further the cause of heaven, or is it really only about me?

If all that I do is about what I can give back to the world, then ultimately I am recognizing that there is a part of G-d inside every human being; I am recognizing the endlessness, the unlimited, in all of us. That is a debate for the sake of heaven and such a debate, whatever side of the fence we choose, ultimately serves to bring us all a bit closer together.

But a debate that is in the end only about me, and about feeding my own ego, will only serve to set us all further apart. Such a position does not recognize the fact that everyone has a part of G-d inside of them.

That is why Korach is swallowed up in the ground, because that is what his argument was all about; ultimately, the world was better off without any Korach at all….

Which leaves us with the question we need to struggle with each and every day, and in each and every decision we make: Are we givers or takers? And is what we are doing in any given moment really an act of giving, or have we somehow become, even if for only an instant, a taker, from the family of Korach?

Rav Binny Freedman, is Rosh Yeshivat Orayta in Jerusalem’s Old City.