The Soul of a Conflict

ESSAY: The Soul of a Conflict
Every folly has its kernel of truth, every crime a virtuous objective at its heart. What is needed is a burning and a burial

TRANSCRIPT: Who’s Dreaming?
By his own account, the Rebbe was a man obsessed. Indeed, what could be more single-minded than reality?

And the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and their homes; all Korach’s people and all their property...

And a fire came forth from G-d and consumed the two hundred and fifty men who offered the ketoret.

Every folly has its kernel of truth, every crime a virtuous objective at its heart. For the essence of man is unadulterated good; it is only that, at times, something might go awry in the process from motive to deed, so that a lofty ideal is corrupted to a lowly end.

The same was true of the mutiny of Korach, to whom our sages refer as the father of all discord and strife.[1] Korach challenged the authority of Moses, the truth of the Torah, and the very structure of the community of Israel as ordained by G-d. But the principle behind his arguments was a positive one, and the ambition that fired his deeds was laudable.

“The entire community is holy,” argued Korach to Moses and Aaron, “and G-d is within them. Why do you exalt yourselves above the community of G-d?”[2] Why does a Jew need Moses to teach him the word of G-d and Aaron to perform the service in the Holy Temple in his stead, when he himself possesses a soul that is a spark of the divine flame? Why can’t he realize his relationship with G-d on his own, without teachers, leaders and priests in his spiritual life? The essence of Korach’s arguments is, of course, true: the soul of man is “literally a part of G-d,”[3] and it requires no “intermediaries” in its connection with its source. Indeed, the prophet prophesies a future world in which “No longer shall a man teach his fellow... for all shall know Me, from the least of them to the greatest.”[4] Korach erred in attempting to force this perfect state on a yet imperfect world—a world in which we do require guidance in the realization of our intellectual and spiritual potential, and in which the decree of refinement, spirituality and manifest connection to G-d varies from individual to individual.

Korach was driven by his frustrated desire for the office of Kohen Gadol (High Priest), to which Moses had appointed his brother Aaron, as G-d had instructed. The Kohen Gadol was the one who, representing the people of Israel, officiated at the most sacred services in the Holy Temple. It was he who offered the ketoret (“incense”) in the Holy of Holies (the innermost chamber in the Temple) on Yom Kippur, marking the point at which the most sacred elements of the three dimensions of reality—time, space and soul—converged, the holiest human being entering the holiest place in the universe on the holiest day of the year. But to yearn for a greater closeness with G-d than one is capable of or even permitted is a most positive thing; indeed, the tension between what one is able and required to achieve and that which lies beyond one’s reach is the essence of a spiritually productive life. Korach’s ambition turned destructive when it crossed the fatal line from yearning to deed, from striving toward a holier state to acting as if one had already achieved it.

Korach’s ideology and ambitions were positive, but the truth of a thing depends on its parameters as much as on its content. Given free rein to expand beyond the bounds of the permissible, they became a malignant cancer that consumed this wise and virtuous man,[5] ultimately leading him to open rebellion against those appointed by G-d to head the Jewish people and to denial of the divine communication to Moses.

The dichotomy within Korach between his motives and his deeds was also reflected in the two distinct groups which made up his following. Joining Korach in his rebellion were “two hundred and fifty men from the people of Israel: leaders of the community, of those called to the assembly, men of distinction.”[6] These individuals were driven by the aspiration to be kohanim gedolim; indeed, when Moses challenged them to offer ketoret as a test of whether they were worthy of such a high spiritual station, they eagerly did so, although they knew that Aaron’s two elder sons, Nadav and Avihu, had died in a similar attempt.[7] But Korach’s camp also included a mob of rabble-rousers, including the infamous Datan and Aviram,[8] jealous of Moses and discontent with the “burden” of the divine commandments he had introduced into their lives.[9]

The difference between these two groups is illustrated by the manner in which they met their tragic end. The two hundred and fifty men who offered the ketoret were consumed by a heavenly fire, while Datan and Aviram and their ilk were swallowed up by the earth. As for Korach himself, the Midrash tells us that since he was responsible for both these groups, he received both penalties: his soul was consumed by fire, and his body was swallowed by the earth.[10]

Korach’s mutiny also had both a soul and a body: the positive forces that agitated it and the negative form they assumed. At its climatic end came a separation of these two elements: its “soul” ascended on high in a holy conflagration (“fire” being the process in which the energy implicit in a substance is released and rises through the atmosphere), while its “body” fell away to be absorbed by the earthly abyss.[11] Released from its iniquitous embodiment, the spirit of Korach could now be reclaimed for its pure and holy applications.

Based on an address by the Rebbe, Shabbat Parshat Korach 5717 (June 22, 1957) and on other occasions[12]

From the time that I was a child attending cheder, and even before, there began to take form in my mind a picture of the future redemption—the redemption of Israel from its last exile, a redemption such as would explain the suffering, the decrees and the massacres of galut...

The following is a freely translated excerpt of an address delivered by the Rebbe at a farbrengen held on Shabbat Parshat Pinchas, 5744 (July 14, 1984):

...In regard to what has been discussed above—the Redemption and the era of Moshiach—there are those who wonder (though, for obvious reasons, they do not openly express their amazement): How can a person appear in public, week after week, and repeatedly speak of one subject—the coming of Moshiach? Furthermore, this person always stresses that he is not merely speaking of the concept, but of the actual coming of Moshiach, here on physical earth, and immediately, on this very day—Shabbat Parshat Pinchas, 5744! He then instructs, on each occasion, to sing “May the Holy Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days,” emphasizing that “speedily in our days” should not be understood as “speedily, tomorrow,” but as “speedily, today”!

Certainly, every Jew believes that Moshiach can come any moment—after all, “I await his coming every day” is one of the fundamental principles of the Jewish faith. Still—they wonder—to sense that Moshiach will come at this very moment is hardly consistent with the reality of our lives. So why does this man speak incessantly about this, on every occasion, and with such single-minded intensity, as if to forcefully ram the idea into the minds of his listeners?!

Their conclusion is that all this is a nice dream (and, as we say in our prayers, “May all my dreams be positively fulfilled for me and for all of Israel”[14])—nice, but not very realistic. So what’s the point of speaking, in such length and frequency, about one’s dreams?

In a maamar (discourse of chassidic teaching) based on the verse, “When G-d returns the exiles of Israel, we shall be as those who have dreamed,”[15] Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi explains that our current state of galut (exile) is comparable to a dream, in which a person’s sense of perception can tolerate the most contradictory and irrational things.[16]

In other words, our current “reality” is a dream, while the world of Moshiach is the true reality. In a single moment, we can all wake from the dream of galut and open our eyes to the true reality of our existence—the perfect world of Moshiach. It is in the power of each and every one present in this room to immediately wake himself from his dream, so that today, Shabbat Parshat Pinchas, 5744, before we even have a chance to recite the minchah prayers, indeed this very moment, we all open our eyes and see Moshiach, in the flesh, with us, here in this room!

Editors note: In 1995, William Morrow & Company published the first widely-distributed book of the Rebbe’s teachings, Toward a Meaningful Life, by Rabbi Simon Jacobson, editor-in-chief at Vaad Hanachot Hatmimim/The Meaningful Life Center. Among the many responses received at our office was a letter from a woman who, as a child of five had met the Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneersohn. That letter described her first meeting with the Rebbe in 1946, “When he was not yet the Rebbe and ... walked freely around the neighbourhood (of Crown Heights).”[17] Below is an extract from a second letter that describes subsequent “sidewalk conversations” with the Rebbe.

Kol hakavod[19] on Toward a Meaningful Life. The book is a beautiful kiddush Hashem,[20] and does full justice to the Rebbe himself.

As a yiddishe maidele[21] who was born into a traditional family in Crown Heights in 1940, and who had the great zchus and mazal[22] from Hashem[23] to know the Rebbe as a beloved childhood friend – whose name was Mister, or so I thought then - the book brings tears to my eyes and overwhelming feelings both of joy and loss to my heart. Since I read Toward a Meaningful Life, I have been deluged with memories of events that I’d forgotten for approximately 45 years…

I knew the Rebbe first as Mister, and then when I learned that Mister was not his name (as I thought it was when I was 5) I asked him his name. But I just couldn’t get the name that he told me – he must have been saying Schneerson – so he told me that we had similar names, and could I say Menachem. That I got immediately, and so he told me to call him Mr. Menachem. Which I did.

It was not until I saw a picture of him, taken about 1950, that I realized that my beloved Mr. Menachem was also the Rebbe. I had been praying for the Rebbe forever, or so it seemed, but I never knew that I was also praying for one of the dearest friends I ever had…

Mr. Menachem always asked me what books I was reading. When I was seven – Spring of ’48 I think – I discovered Science Fiction in the library on Schenectady. I loved it. I gave him rave reviews of two authors, Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov. He was intrigued by the idea of teaching children science through fun-to-read novels. I always told him he should read them, that he would love them. He always told me that he only read Jewish books. Then one day, a year or more later, I told him about Asimov’s book “Foundation”. If you haven’t read Asimov’s Foundation Series then I should tell you it’s about a secret foundation set up by a psychohistorian name Hari Seldon. The purpose of psychohistory and the Foundation was to perfect the Universe. Which is basically what I told him.

Anyway, Mr. Menachem later told me he read the book – which floored me – and told me to concentrate on Asimov, not Heinlin. [And he was right.] He then went on to tell me he’d written to Asimov and had gotten a reply. I was thrilled – that Asimov thought enough of him to write back [Told you I didn’t know who I was talking to. At that point I had no concept of what he truly was, much less what he would become.] He was corresponding with Asimov, and as far as I was concerned that was even better that writing to Jackie Robinson[24], which I think I told him.

Then he asked me what I thought of the idea of setting up a foundation. I thought it was better than Asimov and Robinson combined and told him so. He then told me he was setting up a foundation. I was so excited I started jumping up and down, telling him I wanted to join, please, please please. He said I could. Well, he did set it up, and I did join for a while. He was talking about Chabad and his shluchim. Maybe other things that I haven’t found out yet. Who knows?

[5]. Cf. Rashi, Numbers 16:7: “How did Korach, who was a wise man, come to such folly...?” (Indeed, since the Torah does not tell us anything about Korach’s life prior to his rebellion against Moses, how do we know that he was a wise man? Obviously, then, it is his very folly that reveals his wisdom. Examining his arguments and actions, we uncover the positive and desirable elements that gave rise to them.)

[7]. Ibid., verses 5-7 and 18; Leviticus ch. 10; see Shaloh, Parshat Korach (p. 358a). A similar phenomenon was found among the high priests of the Second Temple period, who bought the office from the Roman rulers of the Holy Land. As the Talmud (Yoma 9a; Jerusalem Talmud, ibid., 1:1) relates, because they were not worthy of entering the Holy of Holies, none of them survived even a single Yom Kippur. Nevertheless, there was no lack of bidders for the post each year! For these were people who so greatly desired to experience the ultimate manifestation of G-dliness on earth that they were ready to forfeit their lives for it.

[8]. Datan and Aviram were the two Jews whom Moses witnessed quarreling in Egypt (Exodus 2:13) and who were at the heart of virtually every conflict with Moses in Egypt and the desert (see Midrash Rabbah, Shemot 1:34 and 25:14; Tanchuma, Shemot 10; et al).

[11]. A similar process occurred with the “bursting of the vessels” in the primordial world of Tohu, in which the divine light was too intense for its defining parameters and ascended to its supernal source while its broken vessels fell to form the substance of the material universe (see Maamar Acharei Mot 5649).

His Guiding Vision

[13]. Igrot Kodesh, vol. XII, p. 414.

[17] The letter was printed in The Week in Review vol VII no 23 entitled “When the Rebbe was Mister”