The book of Numbers, which we are reading now in shul, is filled with sins, rebellions and trouble.  The sin of Korach's rebellion is both the last of the desert fiascos and also its low point.  Things are so dire that the earth swallows the evil doers; so bad that G-d twice wishes to wipe out the whole nation in just this parasha.

What was so bad about the sin of Korach?  There is even a special law in the Torah not to be like Korach.  Why is Korach so bad?  Some attribute the heinous nature of his crime to various theological deviances, denial of the Torah and its authority.

Another possibility is that the cardinal sin here is not one of theology but one of a more mundane nature.  Namely, the sin of disunity and disharmony.  The first words of the portion read “and Korach took.”  What did he take?  What did he really do?  Did he want power or was he concerned about equality?  The Torah hints to us that Korach was about nothing in particular.  He just wished to fight, to cause dissention.

But why is divisiveness a cardinal sin, worst of all the desert sins?  Perhaps we can use a Chassidic approach.  The Chassidim teach that since no one Jew can fulfill the whole Torah, we need to love each other, so that we will all be as one, and collectively, we can surely fulfill the whole of the Torah.

What did Korach preach?  He taught that all Jews were equal.  That sounds great.  But it’s not true.  Some Jews are better at prayer, others at study, still others at acts of kindness.  Only when a Jew recognizes that every other Jew has some “nekudah,” some point at which the other is superior to himself, can a Jew realize what the unity of Israel is all about.  As long as each Jew feels complete and in no need of others to complement their achievements, then we cannot be the collective Israel which is so perfect.

Korach’s challenge seems well founded.  Why should some be Cohanim and others plain Israelites?  Maybe the answer is, is that the Cohen hierarchy is emblematic of the uniqueness of every individual.  It models the notion of that specific role which each Jew plays in making up the “body” of Israel.

I have often felt the very strong presence of the collective body of Israel.  In 1992, as scuds fell on Israel and tears rushed down my cheeks, I realized how at one I was with the people of Israel.

As I read of the bravery of Yoseph Mendelovitch to observe the Torah in the gulag, tears streamed down my face as I realized that in some far off, remote frozen place, he and I were one.

As I worked with Ethiopians in Israel and became so close with them, I realized that even race, continent, culture and language cannot separate two Jews.

At this time of anxiety of tragedy in the state of Israel, we recognize that their pain is ours.  Well, we might ask, who needs the pain of others?  Don’t we have quite enough of our own pain?

The rabbis provided the answer.  They say that anyone who mourns over Jerusalem and feels her troubles, will merit to see her rebuilt and will rejoice with her.  The triumph of Judaism and Israel is surely soon to come.  If we can remain connected to the collective experience of Israel, we will surely be able to rejoice and celebrate together in her ultimate victory.