Korach: It’s Not So Simple
I once read that R’ Aron Leib Shteinman quipped, “When people tell me they are acting not for their own sake but rather entirely l’shem shamayim, for the sake of heaven, I know they are acting entirely for their own sake and not l’shem shamayim.” I think his point is that the motivations that drive people’s religious actions are usually a mix of righteousness and less than righteousness. Anyone claiming otherwise is suspect.
The 250 followers of Korach seem to demonstrate the same phenomenon but the other side of the coin. Though their actions seemed to be entirely wrong, the service they were attempting to do had its merits. The 250 followers met their demise when they took Moshe up on his challenge that each one of them offer the ketores, the incense, each using his own fire pan. Although the Torah mandates that this job be reserved for the High Priest, the Kohen Gadol, Korach and his followers contended that there was no distinction between the Kohen Gadol and any other Jew. Their argument was “we are all holy,” anyone should be allowed to bring the ketores. Of course, the followers of Korach paid the ultimate price for their belief. It is a treacherous act for anyone other than the Kohen Gadol to offer the ketores. As a result, all of them were immediately killed by a heavenly fire.
There is an intriguing aftermath to this story. G-d commanded Moshe to instruct Elazar, the son of Aharon, to collect the firepans because they were holy. They were to be used as a covering for the Altar. The Gemara (Menachos 99a) uses this law to teach that one can elevate holy items, maalin bekodesh. The firepans were holy, and Hashem instructed Moshe to use them for an even holier endeavor, a covering for the mizbeach, the altar. Rashi elaborates that these firepans were holy because they were used as part of a service in the Mishkan.
This instruction is confusing. Yes, these pans were used in a service in the Mishkan. However, this service performed by the followers of Korach was a treacherous act, deserving of immediate retribution from Heaven. Why would this act render the pans holy?
R’ Yechezkel Sarna (1890–1969) points out a remarkable lesson gleaned from this incident. Although the act of the followers of Korach was a nefarious rebellion against G-d, those people, nonetheless, had a machshava, an intention to serve G-d in that way. They erred greatly and paid the price, but they also thought they were serving G-d. Since that motive was sincere, their service infused the pans with an irrevocable holiness.
The lesson is clear. Our religious service matches the complexity of the human dynamic. We tend to prefer clearly delineated lines of good and evil. Yet, we learn from the 250 firepans that we can’t always categorize actions as entirely right or entirely wrong. Even in one of the most seditious acts in Jewish history, where the people were severely punished, a discernable aspect of kedusha was present.
