After last week miserable episode of the Meraglim, which ended sadly as they initiated a dispute amongst the Bnei Yisrael, our Parasha starts by depicting another attempt of discord by Korach for his personal benefits: “Korach, son of Yitzhar son of Keihas son of Levi, betook himself, along with Dathan and Aviram sons of Eliav, and On son of Peleth—descendants of Reuven: to rise up against Moshe, together with two hundred and fifty Israelites, chieftains of the community, chosen in the assembly, men of repute.” (Numbers 16:1-2) Chazal point out that Korach was a member of the Sanhedrin destined to become the next Kohen Gadol, and together with the Sanhedrin confronted Moshe and Aaron. The Talmud [Sanhedrin 17a] depicts the greatness of the members of the Sanhedrin: “Rabbi Yohanan says: They placed on the Sanhedrin only men of high stature and wisdom, and of pleasant appearance, and of suitable age [so that they will be respected]. They had to be masters of sorcery and know all seventy languages to prevent having to hear testimonies from the mouth of a translator [in a case the witnesses spoke a different language].” Above all, they were all Prophets as stated in the Verse “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp” (Numbers 11:27), while they were about to become members of the Sanhedrin. People of such stature did not know the countless examples in the Torah where the initiator of a discord not only did not gain anything but lost their everything they had? i.e the moon when it complained about the sun and the Meraglim. So, what provided Korach the brazenness to attempt another conflict? Rashi quoting the Midrash informs that he based his claim on the Tzizis mentioned in the last portion of last week Parasha. The Torah requires to have one-blue and three-white strands in every of the four corners. Korach innovated a logic that if the entire Tzizis is blue there will obviously be no need to affix a blue thread. His logic was; since the purpose for the blue color was to remind the person of Heaven, this obligation would be fulfilled by having the entire Tzizis blue. However, when Hashem orders a Mitzva, it cannot be swapped or changed based on our lowly logic. Can one decide to make Shabbos on Thursday as he plans a two-days weekend with his family? Hashem’s laws are immutable! So, what led a great man like Korach to believe his claim was justified? The Talmud [Sanhedrin 109b] elaborates on the contrast between two types of wives — the wife of Korach and the wife of On ben Peleth. It notes that although On is listed prominently in the opening Pasuk of the Parasha among the co-conspirators of Korach’s rebellion, he did not die but Korach died as well as Dasan and Aviram. Chazal teach us that On ben Peleth was saved by wife. The Talmud explains the reason; Korach’s wife goaded him on and encouraged him to stand up to Moshe and his family’s nepotism. Thus, On ben Peleth wife counseled her husband to avoid the dispute. She reasoned him “what are you going to get out of this dispute? Whichever way things play out, you will still emerge as just a ‘bit player’. Either Moshe will emerge as the unchallenged leader or Korach will emerge as the new leader. In either case you will be nothing more than a ‘second fiddle’! You stand to gain nothing by getting involved in this fight!” The Talmud quotes the Verse: “The wisdom of a wife can save her household” (Mishlei 14:1). The Gemara explains that it refers to the wife of On. She exhibited tremendous wisdom by convincing her husband to give up the rebellion. Her being praised is questionable, as it was a rather elementary conclusion that her husband would not become the leader either way. Where was her great brilliance? She did nothing more than to point him out the obvious. Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz explains that when people get involved in disputes, they lose their common sense as the fire of ‘discord’ is all-powerful. There is an over-riding tendency and evil inclination to throw away one’s common sense and to jump into the blinding dynamics of ‘dispute’. It requires brilliance to overcome that tendency and instead use such a simple and down to earth approach. Maintaining common sense in such moments requires great wisdom. This is the lesson of the Gemara. Merely telling her husband a simple truth demonstrated great sagacity as most people are enticed to get involved. On Yom Kippur we confess for “taking part in disputes that were not regarding us.” As a post-script to Korach’s rebellion, the Pasuk says, “And there shall no more be like Korach and his congregation” (Numbers 17:5). According to the Rambam and the Smag this Pasuk is not merely a prophecy, but a negative commandment, one of the 613 Mitzvos of the Torah forbidding taking part even in a justified dispute. Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz says that regardless of whether it is to be counted in the total of the 613 or not, this Pasuk certainly is a negative exhortation to mimic the behavior of Korach. Korach had everything any individual could dream of. His wealth was unmatched and was destined to become the next Kohen Gadol. His descendant is the famous Prophet Shmuel Hanavi, who was valued as Moshe and Aaron together. So, why was he unsatisfied with his lot? Rashi states that Korach’s revolt originally stemmed from his jealousy over the appointment of Elitzaphon ben Uziel as a Nasi [Prince]. His wife convinced him that this honor was supposed to be his. Korach became afflicted with the fire of jealousy, envy, and greed. Hence, his fate is quoted in the Mishna [Avos 4:21] “Rabbi Elazar Ha-kappar said: envy, lust and [the desire for] honor remove man from the world.” The Mitzva of wearing Tzizis prevents one from chasing for lust and honor. The proof being that; “יתִ יצִ צ “ has the identical numerical value as [600] “ודֹבָכ, הָוַּ אַּ ת, הָ אְנִ ק] “jealousy, envy, honor]. The message is crystal clear; everything was carefully orchestrated by Hashem, and one should not fall for his fantasies. Reb Yehuda Leib stopped walking and listened. Mournful sobs drifted from the open synagogue window. Forgetting where he was headed, he rushed inside and was startled to find Ephraim, a sincere but unlearned man, standing in the center of the room, his face red as he recited Psalms with vigor, tears soaking the small book held in his hands. Here’s a beautiful story: Ephraim was considered a master vintner in the town of Slonim. Well known in the area, his wine— produced only in small batches and shared privately—was a favorite among Chassidim. Perhaps he could have earned more if he were to apply for a license and sell large quantities, but Ephraim was a simple man, and he had no idea how to apply for a license or how to set up a commercial enterprise. This was the first time Reb Yehuda Leib had seen Ephraim pray with such fervor. Upon reaching the verse “My soul thirsts for You, my flesh longs for You,” his voice cracked, the words stuck in his throat. His body trembled with emotion and tears flowed unrestrained. Scrunching his face with concentration, Ephraim enunciated each word again and again. He appeared to be begging for his life. “G-d Almighty!” he suddenly yelled. “Don’t let my family be hurt … Please, I beg of you!” Rooted to the spot, Reb Yehuda Leib watched in bewildered silence. And though it took some time, he waited till Ephraim’s crying subsided to sniffles before addressing him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Ephraim sighed weakly. “Less than an hour ago, I heard banging on my door and opened to a government official. Police, he told me, were on their way to raid my house. They’d received an anonymous tip alleging I run an illegal wine business and would arrest me if they found any evidence at all.” “Who do you think told them?” asked Reb Yehuda Leib. “I suspect it’s the man who used to kindle my ovens,” Ephraim said, expression sour. “We fought over something not long ago. I ended up sending him out of my house. He swore revenge, and considering it an empty threat, I dismissed his words and forgot about the whole thing. It makes sense now, him being the snitch, since he knew my house pretty well and would certainly be able to make it look as if I have a whole wine business going. “I recovered somewhat from the initial shock and managed to tell my wife the horrible news before running to the Rebbe’s house to seek his advice and blessing. I felt a second punch to the gut when they told me he wasn’t home. Apparently, he’s out of town. My head swirled. Without his prayers, what was left for me to do? So, I rushed to the synagogue to beg for G-d’s mercy. And if I am to go to jail, at least He should spare my wife and children. A jail sentence for a crime like this would be a very long one, indeed…” As this took place, the police had been marching along to Ephraim’s house. Meanwhile, after he had slammed the door and disappeared in a panic, his wife hastily improvised a countermeasure of some sort. She brought in armfuls of straw from the yard and flung them down the steps leading to the tiny basement winery, sprinkling some around the door as well. Once everything was covered with straw, she bolted the basement door shut. Moments after she had finished, she looked up to see the oven kindler leading the police almost pompously. All they had to do was follow the direction of his pointing finger and discover the wine. The direness of the situation, together with sheer terror, crashed down on her, and she felt overpowered. She hunkered in a dark corner of the house, muttering a prayer and hoping for the best The officers, their eyes scrutinizing the walls, trooped inside through the house and fanned out in a search. The oven kindler kept silent and watched the police comb the house fruitlessly. With childlike impatience, he gestured toward the cellar door. “Look over there! The wine’s just down that door,” he panted, eyes glinting maliciously. The chief steeled his jaw, peeved at the interruption. “Quiet. Let the police do their job.” The oven kindler’s shoulders sagged, his frustration mounting as he watched the officers overturning the house, steadily eliminating the potential hiding places, yet still failing to uncover traces of illicit wine manufacturing. House completely swept, nothing was left for them to do other than leave. When the oven kindler saw the officers turn towards the door, he once again failed to contain himself. “The Jew is hiding his wine behind that door! I swear to you!” The chief shot the oven kindler another smoldering look. He walked over to the door and opened it. At the sight of the straw strewn down the stairs, he erupted furiously. “Don’t you know that straw interferes with fermentation?” the chief roared at the oven kindler, who winced with every word. “I’ve had enough of your lies. Do you seriously think the Jew would ruin his entire inventory of wine with straw?!” When Reb Yehuda Leib would retell this story, he emphasized, “Look how this simple Jew from Slonim instinctively reacted. When confronted with disaster, it never occurred to him to hire a lawyer or approach a public official. For him, it was either the Rebbe or the synagogue!”

By Rabbi Shimon Fridmann – Din Torah Of North Miami Beach

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