“You shall not covet” (לֹא תַחְמֹד, Lo Tachmod) (Exodus 20:17; Deuteronomy 5:21)
Our portion for the week focuses on a character named Korach. The Hebrew root of Korach (קרח, Kuf, Resh, Chet) means “bald,” “naked,” or “stripped bare,” which, according to the sages, suggests a physical description of baldness, or symbolically, someone who leaves something stripped bare, someone who separates or uproots. The idea I want to convey is that Korach is like someone who left Israel “bald” after the division he caused, not only in how his life ended, but also by taking the lives of 14,700 people, plus 250 leaders and their families.
The parashah begins with: “And Korach took…” וַיִּקַּ֣ח קֹ֔רַח Vayikach Korach son of Izhar, son of Kohath, son of Levi…” (Numbers 16:1). It is strange how the verse begins with a verb that lacks a logical thread, “And he took.” But what did he take? The verb seems to hang in the air. According to Rashi, the idea is that he “set himself apart,” literally “He took himself aside” or “He separated himself from the community of Israel.”
This is something very profound and powerful, not written in an erroneous or incomplete way, but rather teaching us that he (Korach) made a decision in his heart. Let us look at the context of what happened prior to this episode: The scouts had failed in their mission to reconnoitre the Promised Land; they had submitted a terrible report that resulted in a judgment from Heaven: “to die in the desert after wandering for a period of 40 years.”
Korach, who was no ordinary man, saw an opportunity to rise as a “leader” in the face of Moses’ apparent “passivity,” his own “non-acceptance of the Divine decree,” and his lack of gratitude, because he coveted the position that his cousin Aaron had received. In the Talmud, in Bamidbar Rabbah 18, we read that Korach was already a privileged man: he was a Levite from Kohath; he was wealthy and enjoyed a good name and prestige throughout Israel; however, he longed for the position of priesthood. Pirkei Avot 4:21 says, “Envy, disordered desires, and the pursuit of honour take a man out of the world.” And the Midrash Tanchuma Korach 5 says, “He set his eyes on what was not his; he did not obtain what he sought and lost what he had.”
In Numbers 16:3, he says, “You have gone too far!” For the whole congregation, all of them are holy… Why then do you exalt yourselves above the congregation of YHWH?” This reminds me of what Yeshua said in Luke 6:45: “A good man produces good things from the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man produces evil things from the evil stored up in his heart. For his mouth speaks what overflows from his heart.”
If we analyze Korach’s question, it reveals that he had been ruminating on something in his imagination, but in light of reality, it was far from the truth. That’s why he said, “You have gone too far!” Then, he follows it with a half-truth. Of course, God said Israel was a holy nation, but Korach failed to add that each of us has a unique and specific role within the nation of Israel. He wanted, as we do today, to present the idea that we are all equal before the law and deserve the same privileges. To whom was he directing this message? If we read it carefully, the message wasn’t really directed at Moses but at those watching the public debate to gain votes, like any good politician. He was presenting them with a half-truth, a truth tailored to his personal needs. Then, he rebuked Moses and Aaron: “Why do you exalt yourselves?” And this is the most crucial question in the entire text, because it is here that Korach reveals what he most longed for.
Was it true that Moses raised himself above the others? When God called him at the burning bush (Exodus 3-4), Moses raised five objections: first, “Who am I?” Second, “Who are You?” Third: “They won’t believe me.” Fourth: “I don’t know how to speak.” Fifth: “Send someone else.” Moses was a leader who struggled with “the position or office.” As our Ranebi said, he was a Reluctant Leader. In contrast, Korach did desire position and power. He also contradicted God’s words, which state that Moses was the most humble man on Earth (Numbers 12:3).
This verse precedes Korach’s rebellion. Korach was judging Moses according to his own heart because he was the one who desired power. He saw Moses as one who “exalts himself above others,” meaning that “he (Korach) sought to rise or elevate himself above the rest and dominate them.” Since he spoke from the depths of his heart, he assumed that Moses also desired to be above the rest. For example, an ambitious person assumes that everyone else is ambitious; a proud person thinks that everyone wants fame; a greedy person assumes that everyone wants money.
One of the greatest lessons I learned this week is that Moses never sought to defend his honour or God’s. Instead, he took action: he bowed his face to the ground as it says in Numbers 16:4, “When Moses heard this, he fell on his face.” The Torah doesn’t say, “He became angry, or he responded, or he remained silent,” but rather, in response to the accusation of “You exalt yourself,” the Torah shows us, “No. The first thing he did was not exalt himself; rather, he prostrated himself.” What does it mean to fall on one’s face? It means remaining humble before God, acknowledging God’s authority; it also represents intercession. When the people sinned, Moses offered prayers, implying a relinquishment of the limelight. So, Korach accused Moses of lechitnaseh— תִּֽתְנַשְּׂא֖וּexalting himself. And the Torah offers a narrative response עַל־פָּנָֽיו וַיִּפֹּ֖ל vayipol al panaiv—he fell on his face. They accused him: “Moses, you raise yourself up too high,” and the Torah silently defends him: The first thing Moses does is descend to the level of the dust. While Korach understood leadership vertically—”Higher, more authority, more honour, more recognition, and more fame”—the Torah indicates that Moses understood it totally differently: “Higher, more responsibility, more burden, more service, more dependence on God.” Those who covet a position often imagine only its privileges; those called by God also know the weight, the toll, and the responsibility that position entails.
Going back a bit, Korach takes. What does he take? What does he separate himself from? Well, he takes for himself a group of people, famous men, leaders, forming a faction. That is, he separates himself from the unity of the people. His greed and envy seek to divide. That is why it is said that he left Israel “bald”.
He also separated himself from the authority imposed by God. Korach gives equal value to everyone (we are all holy), although he does not distinguish between roles. He confused equality with dignity; he confused equality with having specific roles. He strayed from his own calling, from his own role. As a descendant of Kohath, he belonged to the group that carried the most sacred objects of the Tabernacle. He was one of the Levites with the greatest responsibility. He was far from being excluded. He was not an ordinary man, but he ceased to value the service God had given him because he coveted what belonged to others. He turned away from humility and inner truth. It is possible to use the right words to justify personal ambition. That is why the sages suggest that not every seemingly just cause arises from pure motives.
From this, we learn that lack is not always real; it is often perceived, imagined. Korach was not destitute; he was not marginalized from society. Objectively, he should have been a contented man. This leads us to learn that a lack of gratitude creates a feeling of emptiness. When a person stops appreciating their portion, they begin to define their worth by what another possesses, as Pirkei Avot 4:1 says, “Who is rich? He who is content with his portion.”
Similarly, envy becomes an unpayable debt, like that of the gambler who loses $100 at the casino. Instead of accepting his loss, he says, “I just need to continue playing until I win back what I lost.” But he no longer plays rationally. Each new bet increases the emptiness. And in the end, he loses not $100, but $500. Returning to Midrash Tanchuma, Korach 5 says, “He set his eyes on what was not his; he did not obtain what he sought and lost what he had.” The Midrash uses this expression to describe other figures: Cain, Balaam, Haman, and Korach.
In Genesis 4, we see that God looked with favor upon Abel’s heart, but what did Cain do? Didn’t God tell him, “If you do good, will you not be exalted?” In other words, “You don’t need to take anything from your brother; you can be accepted on your own merit,” but we know the outcome: he chose a different path. What did he lose? His brother, his land, his home, his stability, since he became a wanderer. He lost much more than what he originally craved. Then, what did Balaam desire? Honour, money, and Balak’s reward. His greed was so great that he caused Israel to fall; that is, he sought a way to disobey what God told him not to do. What did he lose? His life (he died by the sword), and the money he longed for, never became his.
Haman, of whom it is said (Esther 5:13), “All this is worthless to me as long as I see Mordecai sitting at the king’s gate.” He was second-in-command in the empire; he had riches; he had many children; he enjoyed the king’s favor; he had power and recognition. Yet, one single person who did not bow down to him negated all his happiness. What did he lose? His position, his family, his life, his honour.
Of all these previous examples, none of these people began as poor or insignificant. They all had something valuable that God had granted them. The problem was not scarcity, but the inability to enjoy their own portion.
The Bible describes many cases: “Eve saw the fruit and coveted it.” “Cain coveted Abel’s favor.” “Korach coveted the priesthood.” “Balaam coveted the reward.” Haman “coveted Mordecai’s honour.” “Ahab coveted Naboth’s vineyard.” Therefore, the commandment “Thou shalt not covet” should not be underestimated.
I read this commentary, which I found fascinating: “Many rabbis consider that ‘Thou shalt not covet’ (לֹא תַחְמֹד, Lo Tachmod) is the commandment that protects the others, because sin begins long before the action: it begins in the heart.” If we analyze the other commandments, they focus on concrete actions: “Thou shalt not steal,” “Thou shalt not murder,” “Thou shalt not commit adultery,” “Thou shalt not worship idols,” but the Tenth contains the idea of ”Do not covet what God has given to another.” This will protect you from stealing, from committing adultery, from murdering, or from bearing false witness.
Today, with social media and the junk information on the internet, I believe that covetousness presents itself in the most innocent and subtle ways. Are we happy for the progress of others? Are we happy when someone else is given the position or salary that we want? Are we happy without criticizing when someone gets a new car, a garment, or an education? Do we spend more time focusing on what we lack than on being grateful for what we have? When gratitude diminishes, comparison increases. Do we constantly think, “When we have…”? Does my identity depend on recognition? Does it bother me when others succeed and excel?
We can choose to be like the farmer who looks at his neighbour’s farm, watching it grow. Because he’s so focused on his neighbour, he doesn’t notice the pests and weeds affecting his own land, and so he loses his crop. When it’s too late, he realizes he lost everything because he was so focused on the other. My prayer is that we live in obedience, contentment, fulfilment, and joy for what Heaven gives us each day.
Shabbat Shalom Mauricio Quintero