Parshat Korach - The Secret of Inner Essence, Humility, and Distancing Oneself from Dispute

The Secret of Moshe's Humility Versus Korach's Externality

Those who oppose the tzaddik choose to speak against him specifically regarding the trait that is most rectified within him, just as the congregation of Korach said to Moshe and Aharon:

"And why do you exalt yourselves?" (Numbers 16:3).

Yet the verse testifies, "And the man Moshe was very humble." It appears the reason for this accusation is that because it was so clear to Moshe that his heart was filled with humility, he was not concerned about acting in a way that might appear prideful and cause others to say he was exalting himself. Since the concept of pride did not exist within him at all, the aspect of his humility was not recognizable in the eyes of the masses.

The general rule is that in everything, the main thing is the inner essence. Regarding Korach, it is said:

"Envy is the rottenness of the bones" (Proverbs 14:30).

The word "rakav" (rottenness) has the same gematria (numerical value) as "Korach," because he lacked inner essence. Moshe Rabbeinu and Aharon were the inner essence and the Da'as (Divine knowledge) of the Children of Israel, whereas Korach and his congregation clung only to externality, and their deeds appeared very good. However, Aharon appeared to be a simple man, and the blossoming staff was a clear sign to everyone that his inner essence was attached to the root.

On a simple level, we can learn the path of an upright person in the service of the Creator: the higher the spiritual level he reaches, the more he recognizes the importance of every small detail. For Moshe Rabbeinu, who was several levels above them, understood the preciousness of the aspect of being a Levite that was given to them by Hashem, may He be blessed. Even though he had merited all these high levels, every detail in the service of the Creator, whether small or great, was precious in his eyes. They, on the contrary, in their arrogance, disparaged their own service and demanded more.

Engraved or Erased: The Awakening of Ruth the Moabite

A person can be either "chakuk" (engraved) or "machuk" (erased). Engraved means the Torah is engraved upon the heart, just as it is engraved within a baby before it emerges into the airspace of the world.

Erased means when a person has no spiritual awakening, when he does not lift his head upward, when he does not think about Hashem, when he does not speak with Hashem, then he becomes erased, Heaven forbid. The best example of this is Naomi and her two daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah. Orpah leaves Naomi and returns to her homeland. Ruth symbolizes the awakening from below.

She followed Naomi even though Naomi symbolized failure and loss. She had lost a husband and two sons, and was left impoverished and destitute. So how is it that Ruth follows her anyway? She saw the Supernal Pleasantness within Naomi. And so it is with us. Despite the difficulties, despite the constrictions, we are not frightened. We continue onward, we want Hashem; everything we do is in order to draw closer to Hashem, to feel that pleasantness.

Ruth goes toward the Torah, toward the Tablets, the engraved Tablets, so that it will be engraved upon her heart. Throughout all the days of Sefiras HaOmer, we move away from the kelipah (impure husk) of Orpah, whose name shares the same letters as Pharaoh, and we draw closer to Ruth, to the Tablets engraved upon our hearts.

The Fire of Dispute: The Shaking Warning of the Chofetz Chaim

Following the Russian Revolution in the year 5668 (1908), the common townspeople gathered in Radin and established a new Chevra Kadisha (burial society) in opposition to the existing Chevra Kadisha, a move that was liable to ignite a massive dispute. On Shabbos, during the prayer service in the synagogue, the Chofetz Chaim zt"l ascended the bimah and spoke to the congregation:

"Brothers! If they had given me thousands of rubles to come and deliver a sermon, I would not have agreed. But now I see an absolute necessity to speak before you. I have been here for more than fifty years, and I remember all the Jews who were in the synagogue back then. And where are they all today? Not a trace remains of them, aside from the tombstones in the cemetery. Many of you were not yet born then, and many who were children then are counted among the elders today.

"May we all live long lives, but in the end, we will all arrive there, and we will have to give a strict accounting for what we did here. And know this, gentlemen, that the matter of machlokes (dispute) is a very severe thing, and even one who fulfills many mitzvos is liable to lose them because of machlokes!

"And I am certain that when they see the terror of the Heavenly judgment after a hundred and twenty years, they will try to grasp at any straw to be saved, and they will say: 'There was a Jew in our city named the Chofetz Chaim—whom they considered a Torah scholar—and he saw everything and remained silent.' Therefore, I ask that you do not mention my name. I have my own bundle of deeds, and I do not know how I will pass the judgment, so how can I possibly take on the responsibility of others?!"

As he spoke these words, the Chofetz Chaim burst into tears, and his entire body began to tremble with fear. The listeners were shaken to their core, and they took it upon themselves to immediately disband the new society. They also established a new ordinance for a period of three years, not to accept any burial fees, and to engage in this mitzvah properly as an act of true loving-kindness (chesed shel emes). May it be His will that the only dispute among us be like the dispute between Hillel and Shammai, and not like the dispute of Korach and his entire congregation.

To Whom Does the Land Belong? The Ruling of the "Ohr Somayach"

Once, two men came to the Gaon, the "Ohr Somayach," to adjudicate a dispute over a plot of land. One said, "It is all mine," and the other also said, "It is all mine." The first had no witnesses to prove his ownership of the land, and the second also had no witnesses. The Rav tried to clarify who had the legal presumption of ownership over the land, but he was unsuccessful.

Finally, the Rav proposed a compromise: they should divide the disputed land between them. However, neither agreed. What did the Rav do? He said to them, "I want to see the land you are arguing over," and they immediately traveled together to the location. When they arrived, the Rav bent down and acted as if he were whispering to the ground. Then, he tilted his ear toward the earth, as if listening to it.

The men asked him, "What did you whisper to the ground?" He replied, "I told the ground, 'Behold, these two men claim that you belong entirely to them. Each one says that you are all his. What do you say?'" "And what did the earth answer?" the men asked.

"The earth told me," answered the Gaon, the "Ohr Somayach," "that it does not belong to either of you. On the contrary—both of you belong to it. When your final day comes, you will be buried in the earth and you will become hers..." The two men understood the hint and agreed to compromise.

Jealousy, Arrogance, and Lust: The Traits That Removed Korach from the World

"And Korach, the son of Yitzhar, took..." (Numbers 16:1)

The name "Korach" is mentioned in our Torah portion eleven times, and always in its defective spelling (without the letter vav). The Sages of Israel expound upon this name as an acronym (notarikon) for Korach (K-R-Ch): Kinah (jealousy), Romemus (arrogance/seeking elevation), and Chemdah (lust/covetousness). For Korach was afflicted with all three of these negative traits:

1) Kinah (Jealousy) – He was jealous of the greatness and exalted status of Moshe and Aharon.

2) Romemus (Arrogance) – He chased after the crown of leadership over the nation, for the sake of honor and self-elevation.

3) Chemdah (Lust) – He coveted and lusted after a mantle of authority that he was not worthy of.

And our Sages (Chazal) have already said regarding these three traits:

"Jealousy, lust, and honor remove a person from the world" (Pirkei Avos 4:21).

Sanity vs. Insanity: Absolute Devotion to Hashem

In Breslov, there was a crazy man who would wander around the city, constantly shouting, "My grandfather had a thousand gold coins!" Once, during the Third Meal (Seudah Shlishis), while Moharnat (Rabbi Nosson of Breslov) was delivering a Torah discourse, this crazy man entered the Beis Midrash of our fellowship and shouted as usual. Naturally, a commotion erupted in the Beis Midrash, and the discourse was interrupted.

When Moharnat heard what was happening, he responded and said, "The whole world is crazy, and I am included among them; I have only ever known one sane person." For a sinner is considered insane, as our Sages teach that a person does not commit a sin unless a spirit of folly enters him. The Torah discourse that Moharnat delivered at that time was later printed in Likutey Halachos (Laws of Washing Hands 6:37).

The reason Moharnat included himself in this—even though he certainly had no sin on his hands whatsoever—was because any inclination, even the slightest, toward this world and its illusions is already considered literal insanity and a spirit of folly. As Rebbe Nachman brings in the name of the Baal Shem Tov regarding the verse, "And you will turn astray and serve other gods" (Deuteronomy 11:16): the moment you turn astray from Hashem, even by a hairsbreadth, you are immediately already serving other gods.

Therefore, Moharnat considered even himself to be truly insane, since he found within himself many such inclinations. This is known from his immense exactitude with himself, to the point that even at the time of his histalkus (passing away), when he said, "I can give a full accounting for every day of my life," he still added, "But I do not know if I have fulfilled my obligation regarding the earnestness and simplicity of Rebbe Nachman."

And after all this, Moharnat said, "I have only ever known one sane person." Because the holy Rebbe Nachman lived a life completely devoid of any deviation from the ways of Hashem. He had no gaze toward worldly matters, no speech regarding the vanities of the world, and no movement of his hands for the affairs of this world—none whatsoever. His entire life was one solid continuum of infinite deveikus (cleaving) to Hashem, without any interruption at all.

And what about us? This is what Rabbi Levi Yitzchok Bender zt"l told us—we are subject to the verse, "You test him every moment" (Job 7:18). We are tested in every moment that we remember Hashem: Did we draw ourselves toward Him, even a little bit? Did we do some act of holiness with it? Did we say a word before Him? Did we at least sigh and say "Oy"? For through this, we too merit to draw down holiness upon ourselves, each person according to their effort to overcome during every moment of testing.

The Weights of the Evil Inclination: The Test of Wealth and the Mitzvah of Tithing

A great Torah scholar and God-fearing young man, who was destitute to the point of lacking bread, studied in the yeshiva of the Chofetz Chaim. The young man would frequently tell his rabbi about his financial distress and ask him to pray on his behalf that Hashem would send him a blessing so he could escape his poverty. "If I merit that Hashem expands my boundaries, I will be exceedingly meticulous in fulfilling the mitzvah of ma'aser (tithing)," he would pledge every time he discussed this matter with his rabbi.

"Who am I and what am I?" the Chofetz Chaim would humbly reply. "You must direct your prayers to Hashem Himself and beg for His mercy from the depths of your heart. However, consider yourself warned—if you indeed merit and your prayer is answered, you will have to keep your word and be absolutely meticulous in fulfilling the mitzvah of ma'aser. 'A verbal commitment to the Most High is like a physical delivery to an ordinary person,' and woe to the person who makes light of such matters."

Days passed, and the young man began to try his hand at commerce, and Hashem sent a blessing upon the work of his hands. Slowly but surely, he expanded his business, and within a few years, he managed to climb the ladder of success until he transformed from a destitute pauper into a great and wealthy merchant. Initially, he was careful to separate a tithe from his income as he had pledged during his days of poverty. However, as he rose to greatness and became wealthy, the evil inclination for money stood before his eyes, and he failed the test, seemingly forgetting his promise.

His hands became tightly clenched. Not only did he refrain from giving tithes, but he also consistently avoided participating in any matter of tzedakah (charity). Word reached the ears of the Chofetz Chaim, who heard about the change that had come over his student, and his heart ached within him. Nevertheless, he chose to remain silent for the time being and wait for an opportune moment.

This occurred during the Chofetz Chaim's visit to Moscow, where he had traveled for matters concerning his yeshiva. All the dignitaries of the city came to the inn where he was staying to welcome him and exchange greetings. Among the honored guests was also his former student, the poor man who had become a great magnate, whose stinginess was as great as his wealth. The former student rejoiced greatly at the opportunity to meet with his rabbi. The Chofetz Chaim also greeted him with a shining face.

When the reception concluded, the dignitaries went on their way, but the stingy rich man remained in the room. When only he and his rabbi were left alone, the rich man burst into tears. "My teacher and my rabbi, I am sick with a severe and terminal illness, and I cannot help myself!" he sobbed, crying a heart-rending cry. "What is your severe illness?" the Chofetz Chaim asked with deep concern.

"My hands are clenched tight, as if locked with a padlock, and I cannot open them," the rich man answered. "Indeed, I remember very well my commitment to separate a tithe from everything I would have, but now, after I have acquired great wealth, I am incapable of keeping my word. It is as if the Satan has taken control of me and will not let me give charity."

The Chofetz Chaim pondered for a long minute and finally opened his mouth and said: "Listen, and I will tell you a story. A rural Jew once traveled to the city on the eve of a holiday to buy his holiday necessities. He entered the store where he usually shopped and asked the storekeeper for a ruble's worth of flour by weight. The storekeeper said to him, 'Trouble yourself, my friend, open your sack and fill it with as much flour as you need, and I will place weights on the scale.'

"The villager heard that the man was asking him to fill the sack of flour himself. He took a large sack and filled it to the brim. The storekeeper pretended not to see. He stood and waited for the villager to finish his work. When the moment of payment arrived, the villager took out a single silver ruble and handed it to the storekeeper. The storekeeper said to him, 'You have filled an entire sack of flour, and its price is five rubles; how can you want to pay me only one ruble?'

"The villager replied with his own astonishment: 'But I initially asked you for one ruble's worth of flour, and you were the one who suggested that I fill my sack myself. So I stood and filled it, and you remained silent. Here, then, is what I took for one ruble, and why are you now demanding five rubles?'

"The storekeeper looked at him in amazement and resentment. 'I assumed,' he answered the villager, 'that you had changed your mind and ultimately decided to take more flour than you initially requested, and therefore I kept quiet and added more and more weights. But you, what were you thinking? Did you really think that I would add weights and you would fill up on flour without measure, and all in exchange for a single ruble?!'

The stingy rich man listened to the story with great attention, and even though he was a Torah scholar, he struggled to fully grasp his rabbi's meaning. The Chofetz Chaim looked at him with a compassionate gaze and began to explain: "This story is nothing but a parable, and the lesson is about you and what has happened to you. The flour represents the great wealth that was bestowed upon you from Heaven. The weights represent the evil inclination that is given to a person in proportion to how much his wealth intensifies and grows.

"Now I ask you—what were you thinking to yourself: that on the one hand, they would bestow upon you abundant goodness and blessing, and on the other hand, your evil inclination would remain exactly as it was during your days of poverty?! You are mistaken! Everything has a price, and you must confront it with courage. Otherwise, the Storekeeper might, Heaven forbid, take the full sack of flour away from you..."

The words penetrated the rich man's heart. From that day onward, he prayed to the Creator of the world to give him the proper vessels for the gift of wealth. He did teshuvah (repentance) and began to fulfill his old commitment—to separate a tithe for charity from everything he owned, and he even increased his charitable giving.

A Matter of Halacha: Is a surgeon permitted to smoke on Shabbos for the success of a surgery?

(Responsum by HaRav Yitzchak Zilberstein)

Question:

Below is a telegram sent to the Rav shlit"a by a senior surgeon, containing a very severe question regarding the laws of saving a life and pikuach nefesh (saving a life):

"It often happens that I need to perform surgery on a critically ill patient on the holy Shabbos. Now, I feel within myself that if I smoke a cigarette before the surgery (as I am accustomed to doing on weekdays), I will operate better, and the results of the surgery will be more successful, with the help of Heaven. My question, therefore, is whether I am permitted to smoke on Shabbos before the surgery? May our teacher instruct us, and his reward will be doubled from Heaven!"

Answer:

Our teacher, the Rav shlit"a, replied: We heard from the Gaon Rabbi Betzalel Zolty zt"l, who expressed doubt regarding permitting a surgeon to smoke, explaining his reasoning as follows: Every inhalation and exhalation from a cigarette on Shabbos is forbidden, and it is difficult to estimate the exact number of puffs a doctor needs in order to operate better. Consequently, there is a concern that he will smoke more than necessary. Since there is no exact measure to weigh what is truly needed, it is therefore difficult to permit. (Our teacher added a proof to his words from the Chasam Sofer in Even HaEzer, section 82, see there).

Similarly, my father-in-law and teacher, Maran HaGaon Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv shlit"a, said that a doctor should not be permitted to smoke on Shabbos based on the claim of pikuach nefesh (saving a life). Even though smoking is a great need for those who are accustomed and addicted to it, and during the Holocaust there were those who exchanged their daily ration of bread for a cigarette, nevertheless, in times of emergency, a person gathers mental strength and actualizes inner resources that are not present during normal times.

Consider this yourself: A doctor who needs to operate on his beloved only son, and he does not have a cigarette in his possession—would he not operate on him to the best of his abilities without smoking?! Would he not be able to overcome his habit in order to exert himself with every fiber of his soul so that the surgery succeeds?! This tells us that a doctor who knows the responsibility facing him will do his work faithfully even without smoking, and therefore there is no room to permit him to smoke on Shabbos.

Our teacher, the Rav, concluded: These words apply to a doctor full of compassion who does his work with awe and reverence (b'dchilu u'rchimu). However, a lightheaded doctor who approaches surgery as a routine matter, and does not feel the weight of the human life depending on him, it is possible that smoking is permitted for him. The decision is in the hands of the doctor, to weigh how necessary it is for him to smoke so that the surgery will be most successful!

(These words are not intended as practical Halachic rulings.)