Bamidbar: The Terminal Bachelorhood of Nadav and Avihu

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Bamidbar: The Terminal Bachelorhood of Nadav and Avihu 

The census of the Leviim (Levites) begins with Aharon and his sons: 

These are the names of the sons of Aharon: the firstborn was Nadav, and Avihu, Elazar, and Itamar. These were the names of the sons of Aharon, the anointed Kohanim, whom he inaugurated to minister. Nadav and Avihu died before Hashem when they offered a strange fire before Hashem in the Wilderness of Sinai, and they had no children; Elazar and Itamar ministered during the lifetime of Aharon, their father. (Bamidbar 3:2-4). 

The question is: Why does the pasuk (verse) emphasize that Nadav and Avihu “had no children”? This information seems irrelevant in a census, the point of which is to count actual children rather than children-that-never-were. 

The pshat (straightforward) answer given by most commentators is that the first half of the pasuk preemptively explains the end of the pasuk: “Elazar and Itamar ministered during the lifetime of Aharon, their father.” If Nadav and Avihu had sons, these sons would have inherited the prestigious positions of adjunct Kohanim Gedolim [1] (high priests) from their fathers. Since they didn’t have sons, these positions passed on to their brothers, Elazar and Itamar. 

A different answer kind of answer is stated in the midrash: [2]

One who does not engage in [attempting to fulfill the mitzvah of] peru u’revu (“be fruitful and multiply”) is liable for death, as it is stated: “Nadav and Avihu died, and they did not have children” – [implying] that if they had children, they would not have died. 

This midrash is aggadic (non-legal) rather than halachic (legal), and is clearly not intended to be taken literally. According to halacha, one who does not engage in peru u’revu is not actually liable for death. Furthermore, Nadav and Avihu didn’t die because they neglected peru u’revu, but because they “offered before Hashem a strange fire that He had not commanded them” (Vayikra 10:2). This is clear from the fact that each and every time the deaths of Nadav and Avihu are mentioned in Tanach, this is reason given for their death. 

If so, the question is: What does this midrash mean when it says that if Nadav and Avihu had children, they wouldn’t have died? 

The Torah Temimah [3] offers the following explanation: 

This is to be understood in light of Taanis 4a, which says: “Yaakov Avinu didn’t die” because “his offspring are alive, and therefore, he is not considered to be dead,” and Bava Basra 116a which states: “Why does it say ‘lying down’ for David’s death but ‘death’ for Yoav? Because David left behind a son, like him, [whereas Yoav did not].” Here, too, the intent is that if [Nadav and Avihu] had sons, [these sons] would have served in their place … and if that had been the case, it wouldn’t have mentioned the deaths [of Nadav and Avihu because they would “live on” through their sons]. 

This explanation aims to connect the midrashic interpretation of our pasuk to the pshat explanation stated above. The “lives” of Nadav and Avihu were defined by their avodas Hashem (Divine service) in their position of adjunct Kohanim Gedolim. If they had sons, and their sons succeeded them in this role, then this “life” of theirs would not have ended. 

However, there is a harsher midrashic [4] take on the causal relationship between the childlessness of Nadav and Avihu and their fate: 

“and they had no children” – but if they did have children, they wouldn’t have died. Nadav and Avihu were aristocratic, [5] saying: “Our father is Kohen Gadol, our father’s brother is a king, our mother’s brother is a prince, and we are the two chiefs of the Kehunah (priesthood). Which woman is good enough for us?” and they withheld themselves and didn’t desire to marry any woman to fulfill peru u’revu. That sin caused them to die by fire. 

An even more condemnatory version of this midrash [6] elaborates on their sin: 

R’ Levi said: [Nadav and Avihu] were exceedingly aristocratic. They would say, “Which woman is good enough for us?” There were many lonely [7] women sitting and waiting for them, but they said: “Our father’s brother is a king, our father is a Kohen Gadol, our mother’s brother is a prince, and we are chiefs of the Kehunah. Which woman is good enough for us?”

Rebbi Menachma [8] said in the name of Rebbi Yehoshua bar Nechemiah: regarding [Nadav and Avihu] David said: “Fire consumed His young men, and His maidens had no marriage celebrations” (Tehilim 78:63). Why were “His young men consumed by fire”? Because “His maidens had no marriage celebrations.” 

Another [proof can be brought] from: “To Moshe He said, ‘Go up to Hashem, you and Aharon, Nadav and Avihu” (Shemos 24:1). This teaches that Moshe and Aharon would walk ahead, Nadav and Avihu would walk behind them, and all of Israel were behind them, and they (i.e. Nadav and Avihu) would say, “When will these two old men die, so that we can exert our authority over the community in their place?” 

These alternative midrashic accounts shed quite a different light on the notion that Nadav and Avihu died because “they had no children.” According to these midrashim, it wasn’t the transgression of abstaining from peru u’revu per se which made them liable. Rather, it was the aristocratic bearing which gave rise to this transgression and warranted this punishment. 

The problem is that these midrashim make Nadav and Avihu out to seem like they had some real serious problems! Are we really to believe that these sons of Aharon ha’Kohen took such petty pride in their own status and in the status of their family members? Did they really think that no woman was good enough for them, knowing full well that Moshe and Aharon each got married, despite their greatness? Most astounding of all, are we really supposed to believe that Nadav and Avihu eagerly awaited the deaths of their beloved father and their illustrious uncle so that they could seize power to lord over the community? It is quite difficult to accept this portrait of Nadav and Avihu at face value. Remember that these are the individuals whom Hashem referred to as, “My close ones” (Vayikra 10:3) [9], and who were second only to Moshe and Aharon in their proximity to the divine glory at Sinai (see Shemos 24:1,9). 

In my view, the answer is: no, Nadav and Avihu were not the pompous megalomaniacs depicted in these midrashim. Rather, I believe this is a case in which the midrashim employ the device of exaggeration in order to make a point, as Chazal [10] said: “The Torah spoke in an exaggerated language, the Prophets spoke in an exaggerated language, and the Sages spoke in an exaggerated language.” 

This stylistic device of magnifying the imperfections of tzadikim is frequently employed by the pesukim themselves in order to make it easier for us to learn from their flaws, which would otherwise be too subtle for us to appreciate. For example, the pesukim say: “Reuven went and slept with Bilhah, his father’s concubine” (Bereishis 35:22), “Samson went down to Timnath, and in Timnath he saw a woman of the daughters of the Philistines [and married her]” (Shoftim 14:1), “Shlomo built an alatar for Chemosh, the abomination of Moav, on the Mount facing Jerusalem, and for Molech, the abomination of the Children of Amon” (I Melachim 11:7). According to the traditional interpretations, none of these tzadikim committed the serious transgressions described in the pesukim. All of these narratives are exaggerations of transgressions or flaws which were much less severe, and which are blown out of proportion for rhetorical and didactic effect. And if the pesukim themselves are known to do that, then certainly the aggadic midrashim can be expected to follow suit. 

I believe that the authors of these midrashim would acknowledge that Nadav and Avihu died because they “offered before Hashem a strange fire that He had not commanded them,” as the pesukim explicitly state. Having acknowledged that, the authors of these midrashim are theorizing about the personal shortcoming which led to this severe transgression. Based on the information provided in the pesukim, the authors of these midrashim maintain that Nadav and Avihu had an underlying sense of aristocratic pride in their roles as adjunct Kohanim Gedolim, which gave them the unconscious feeling of superiority, and derived incidental gratification from the power they held. In other words, these were not open faults in their character. If they were, the Torah would have been more explicit in divulging such information which would be critical in order to understand why they died. It is quite possible that this deep-seated streak of aristocratic pride didn’t manifest itself outwardly at all. 

According to these midrashim, it was this underlying feeling of pride which led Nadav and Avihu to “make a halachic decision in the presence of Moshe, their teacher” [11] by offering the “strange fire” without being commanded. It was this unconscious aristocratic mentality that caused them to defer marriage and procreation on the pretext of not finding suitable wives. It was this idle musing about who might take over as the nation’s spiritual leaders after Moshe and Aharon died which arose in their imagination when they stood on the mountain and “saw the God of Israel” (Shemos 24:10) and which nearly prompted divine retribution, as it is stated: “against the great men of Israel He did not stretch out His hand” (Shemos 24:11). 

How are we to understand their punishment? According to the pshat, they died by fire because they brought a “strange fire,” midah kneged midah (measure for measure). But perhaps according to these midrashim one can see a different level of midah kneged midah which corresponded to their underlying flaw. They unconsciously sought to supplant Moshe and Aharon in order to claim a permanent place in the eternal pantheon of the Israelite hierarchy, and they believed they were “too good” to perpetuate the human race. As a punishment, their lives were prematurely cut short, and because of their abstention from peru u’revu, they left no offspring through whom they could “live forever” in the sense that Yaakov and David “live forever” through their progeny. 

There are two takeaway lessons for us: one in methodology and the other in human perfection. The lesson in methodology is that the authors of midrashim will expound on any textual clue, no matter how small, if there is some lesson that can be extrapolated from it, and when it looks like they’re making a mountain out of a molehill, they’re really just embellishing the presentation of their theory in order to make a subtle concept into a blatant part of the narrative. 

The lesson in human perfection is that a misplaced sense of pride is an insidious thing which can plague even the greatest of men, often on account of their genuine greatness. Like a small crack in a large dam, this pride can grow and spread imperceptibly until it’s too late, and the entire edifice comes crumbling down. 

[1] See Rabbeinu Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban / Nachmanides), Commentary on Sefer Bamidbar 3:4, who writes that Nadav and Avihu were anomalous among Kohanim in that they functioned in the capacity of Kohen Gadol similar to their father, whereas in all subsequent generations there would only be one Kohen Gadol at a time. I’m calling this the position of “adjunct Kohen Gadol.” According to this explanation, Elazar and Itamar inherited this unique designation of Kohen Gadol upon the deaths of their brothers, Nadav and Avihu. 

[2] This midrash appears in a number of different texts with variations between them. Perhaps the most authentic version is the one that appears in Talmud Bavli: Yevamos 64a. I’ve chosen to use the version of that midrash as cited by the Torah Temimah, both because it is phrased in a more standalone manner, and because I subsequently reference the Torah Temimah’s commentary later. 

[3] Ha’Rav Baruch ha’Levi Epstein, Torah Temimah on Bamidbar 3:4 footnote 1 

[4] Midrash Aggadah (Buber), Sefer Bamidbar: Bamidbar 3 

[5] The Hebrew term here is שחוצים, which Jastrow translates as: aristocratic, proud, vainglorious, pompous. 

[6] Midrash Tanchuma (Warsaw) Sefer Vayikra: Acharei Mos 6 

[7] עגונות, which can’t be understood in the usual halachic sense here – unless I’m missing something. The term literally means “deserted,” and since we’re talking about unmarried women here, I’ve translated it as “lonely.” 

[8] Not a typo; just an unusual name: רבי מְנַחְמָה 

[9] According to Rashi, at least. 

[10] Talmud Bavli: Maseches Tamid 29a 

[11] Talmud Bavli: Maseches Eruvin 63a

Mishlei 22:22-23 - Stealing from the Poor

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I didn't take this particular picture, but it wouldn't be difficult to do so with all of the opportunities.

Mishlei 22:22-23 - Stealing from the Poor

משלי כב:כב-כג

אַל תִּגְזָל דָּל כִּי דַל הוּא וְאַל תְּדַכֵּא עָנִי בַשָּׁעַר: כִּי ה' יָרִיב רִיבָם וְקָבַע אֶת קֹבְעֵיהֶם נָפֶשׁ:

Mishlei 22:22-23

Do not rob a destitute person because he is destitute, and do not oppress a poor person in the public square, for Hashem will take up their grievance and He will steal the soul of those who steal from them.

The major questions on these pesukim are:

(1) How do we read the "because" in the first clause? There are two ways to read this phrase: "Don't rob a poor person. Why not? Because he is poor." Alternatively: "Are you considering robbing a poor person because he is poor? Don't." In other words, is the "because" introducing an explanation, or is it part of the definition of the case?

(2) Why not? According to our first reading we must translate this into two questions: "How is 'because he is poor' a reason for not stealing from the poor?" and "How does the explanation 'because he is poor' relate to the subsequent explanation 'for Hashem will take up etc.'?" According to our second reading we can ask: "Why would a person think he can/should steal from the poor, and how does 'for Hashem will take up etc.' address this person's mistaken line of reasoning?" 

(3) How will Hashem "take up their grievance" and "steal their souls"? As I've written about before, acts of Hashem in Mishlei are either references to principles of hashgachah pratis (individual divine providence) or to descriptions of hashgachah klalis (natural consequences). In this case, which is it, and how does it work? 

[Time to think! You'll get way more out of this blog post if you work on the pasuk yourself before reading what I have to say. Read on when ready.]

Ordinarily this would be where I present to you my four-sentence summary of the main idea. In this case, I pretty much got my idea straight out of Rabbeinu Yonah, [1] so I'm going to start by presenting a translation of most of his commentary on our pesukim:

Do not rob a destitute person because he is poor - [this means, do not rob a destitute person] on account of his poverty, because you aren't afraid that he'll save the stolen item from your hand.  

and do not oppress a poor person in the shaar - "shaar" is a place where the public gathers ... The explanation of the matter is as follows: even though you have the ability to oppress him in the public square, in plain sight, and he won't [attempt] to save [the stolen item] from your hand, do not oppress him.  

for Hashem will take up their grievance - since they lack the ability to save themselves from their exploiters and oppressors, Hashem will take up their grievance, as it is stated: "He saves the poor person from the one who is stronger than him" (Tehilim 35:10).  

and He will steal the soul of those who steal from them - He will take the soul from the taker who robbed the money, for He will decree the penalty of misah bi'ydei shamayim (death at the hands of heaven) for stealing from a poor person, in contrast to stealing money from other people, because one who steals from the poor - it is as if he stole his life. 

Secondly, because this man [who steals from the poor] has breached [his] fear [of Hashem]: "the scoundrel says in his heart 'there is no god'" (ibid. 14:1; 53:2), and since there are no people to help the poor person, [the thief] has no fear of God before his eyes, imagining in his soul that there is no law and no Judge. Chazal similarly say about the ganav (thief) that he is punished more than the galzan (robber) because he fears people but doesn't fear God. 

My understanding of our pesukim focuses more on Rabbeinu Yonah's second point than his first. Here is my four-sentence summary of the main idea:

There are several reasons why one might be tempted to target a poor person for theft or oppression, even though one wouldn’t target other victims: (1) it is unlikely that the perpetrator will get caught, since people tend not to care or take notice of criminal acts against the poor; (2) it is unlikely that the poor person will retaliate, due to the limitations of his circumstances; (3) it is much easier to bypass the guilt of the crime, due to the relative lack of identification with the victim and the feeling that “he’s not a real person, like I am.” 

However, once a person starts rationalizing acts of theft against the poor, he will be increasingly prone to rationalizing all theft against any victim – beginning with those who share the aforementioned criteria in any measure, and ultimately neglecting these criteria altogether. 

The more one gives in to such rationalizations, the more ambitious and less cautious he will be in his crimes, and eventually, he will target the wrong person – a person who will retaliate, and who will bring him down. 

It is possible that the pasuk uses the broad term “dal” to extend this principle to acts of injustice against any disadvantaged second-class citizen within a given system, such as employers against employees, teachers against students, those who are high up on the social hierarchy against those who are low, adults against non-adults, etc. 

According to this interpretation, there is no need to explain the acts of Hashem in our pesukim as a reference to any sort of miraculous divine intervention on behalf of the poor. Rather, our pesukim are to be understood as Mishleic middah kneged middah (measure for measure), similar to the teaching of Hillel in Avos 2:6: “He also saw a skull floating upon the water and said to it: Because you drowned others, you were drowned; and those who drowned you, will themselves be drowned.”

My decision to write about this pasuk today was occasioned by a real-life crime I witnessed a few days ago. I am currently in Hawaii. Whenever we're here for Shabbos we usually stay in our condo until an hour or two before Shabbos ends, and then we trek down the many flights of stairs to the street level and take a long walk until Shabbos is over. This past Shabbos we finished our walk with some time to spare and decided to sit on a public bench on the Waikiki strip and people-watch until Shabbos was over. This was a very crowded area crawling with tourists, mind you, and most definitely fit Rabbeinu Yonah's description of "shaar" in our pesukim.

Background info: Honolulu has a major homelessness problem. The streets in the city are covered with tents, and even in the more touristy areas of Waikiki - like the place where we are currently situated - there are tons of homeless people walking around, digging through the trash, and lying down on the street. I say "lying down" because sometimes they're asleep and sometimes they're drunk or stoned. (You can tell it's the latter when the police have to come and evict them from these public locations.)

Anyway, we were sitting on this bench near the public walkway and noticed a homeless person lying down (i.e. sleeping/drunk/stoned) on the grass around 30 feet away. We almost missed him because  the green sleeping bag he was covered with blended in with the grass. Right next to his head he had a plastic shopping bag filled with his belongings. Usually the poor people in Honolulu use bags filled with their belongings as a pillow, which is a more effective strategy for protecting valuables, but this guy just had it next to his head.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw what appeared to be a local Hawaiian guy, walking at a fast pace along the public path from West to East, in the direction of all the other pedestrians. He didn't look poor or anything. He had on a pair of board shorts and his bare arms and chest were covered with fancy tattoos. He wasn't carrying any belongings with him (as he would if he were poor). His hair wasn't matted, and his face wasn't dirty. Judging by appearances, he was just a regular local Hawaiian surfer-dude.

Suddenly, surfer-dude veered off the path, walked right up to the poor person, and snatched the bag from behind his head! Without breaking his pace, he rejoined the pedestrian flow, and quickly vanished into the crowd.

Here's a crude map I drew to help you visualize the events.

It took us a few seconds to process what we had seen. I looked at my brother and said, "Did we just witness a theft?" If the poor person had been awake and aware of what was going on, I would have just assumed it was a drug deal - but he clearly wasn't in on this deal. Around ten seconds after the theft, the poor person - either hearing or sensing the disturbance - woke up and started looking around for his bag.

Shortly after witnessing this theft, I had a glimmer of Mishleic intuition, but I didn't remember these pesukim until the next morning. Let's apply our pesukim to this case.

Like I said, surfer-dude appeared to be local, and appeared not to be homeless. If we, as annual visitors to Honolulu, are familiar with certain dynamics of the homeless population, then he, as a local, would be even more so, and it's pretty clear that his act was premeditated. Who knows whether this was his first such theft or his tenth? Either way, his theft was likely motivated and rationalized by the aforementioned criteria: (1) it is unlikely that he'd get caught, since nobody - neither the police, the locals, nor the tourists - would going to stop him from stealing a plastic bag from a homeless guy; (2) it's unlikely that the victim would retaliate, since, in this case, he was sleeping, and wouldn't be aware of the theft until long after the thief fled the scene; (3) and it is easy to bypass the guilt of the crime, since "he's just a bum."

Will the thief feel that "he got away with it"? Yes, especially because he committed this crime in plain view of the public. Will this strengthen his feeling that "there is no law and no Judge"? Yes, regardless of what his conscious morals and ethics are. Will his greed and ambition for "free loot" grow? Yes, regardless of whether this guy's bag was filled with valuables or not. Will all of these feelings embolden him to commit similar acts of theft in the future? Yes, because why should he stop? Will he become less vigilant and more daring with each subsequent act of theft? Yes - it's just human nature. Will he become increasingly willing to rationalize acts of theft beyond the limited parameters of the crime we witnessed? Yes, as Chazal (Shabbos 105b) so aptly said:

For thus is the craft of the yetzer ha'ra (evil inclination): today it tells you, "do this," and tomorrow it tells you, "do that," until [eventually] it tells you "worship avodah zarah (idolatry)." 

It is not too difficult to imagine this guy in the not-so-distant future attempting to steal another bag from a homeless person, or the belongings stored under a beach towel by a beach-going tourist, or an item from a local shop while the owner momentarily looks away. And on that unlucky day, surfer-dude is caught red-handed, and the homeless person stabs him with a knife, or the tourist calls the local police, or the shop-owner's clandestine shop-guard out front grabs him, puts him into a headlock, and then gets him thrown in jail.

This is Mishleic midah kneged midah in action. We live in a world of lawful cause-and-effect, and our own psyche operates by lawful cause-and-effect. Attempt to ignore, neglect, or bypass these divinely authored laws, and it'll only be a matter of time before the consequences catch up to you.

Parashas Korach: What Happened to Korach?

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Artwork: Wrath of God, by Titus Lunter

Parashas Korach: What Happened to Korach?

Introduction

“What happened to Korach?” It’s a simple question, and one might would assume it has a simple answer. I’d wager that if you took a poll, most Jews would respond: “Hashem made a miracle, causing the earth to swallow Korach and his followers alive.” That’s what I thought until I actually looked into the issue and realized that the answer isn’t so simple. 

Review of the Facts

First, let’s review the sequence of events. As you read this summary, be on the lookout for an answer to our question: 

Korach, Dasan and Aviram, Ohn ben Peles, and 250 leaders stand up in opposition to Moshe Rabbeinu and Aharon, saying, “It is too much for you, for the entire assembly – all of them are holy. Why do you exalt yourselves over the congregation of Hashem?” (Bamidbar 16:3). [Note: Many meforshim say that these 250 leaders were firstborns who were bitter about the fact that their role of serving in the Mikdash was taken away and given to the Leviim and Kohanim; that’s why they joined Korach in his attempt to “take back” the kehunah (priesthood) from the Kohanim.]

Moshe responds, “Tomorrow Hashem will make known who is His own and the holy one, and He will him draw close, and whomever He will choose, He will draw close to Himself” (ibid. 16:5). Moshe instructs these men to take fire-pans and bring ketores (incense) before Hashem, Who will make known His choice through His acceptance or rejection of the ketores. 

Moshe rebukes Korach. He calls him out on his populist campaign and exposes his true motive: the desire to seize the kehunah gedolah (high priesthood) from Aharon, which Korach felt was his birthright. 

Moshe attempts to reason with Dasan and Aviram; they spurn him, insult him, challenge his authority, and accuse him of despotism. Moshe is angry, and turns to Hashem. 

The next day, Korach and his 250 followers congregate in front of the Ohel Moed (Tent of Meeting); Korach assembles the rest of Bnei Yisrael to witness what will happen, with Dasan and Aviram and their followers standing nearby. 

Hashem declares His intent to destroy ALL of Klal Yisrael. Moshe intercedes on their behalf. Hashem responds by telling Moshe to urge Bnei Yisrael to distance themselves from around the tents of Korach, Dasan, and Aviram, and not touch anything of theirs, “lest they perish because of all their sins” (ibid. 16:26). 

Moshe announces that a test will be done to establish “that Hashem sent me to perform all these acts, that it was not from my heart.” If these men die a normal death, then Moshe’s status as shliach (messenger) of Hashem is a sham – but if Hashem miraculously causes the earth to swallow up these men and their possessions, “then it will be known that these men provoked Hashem” (ibid. 16:30). 

Immediately, “the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and their households, and all the people who were with Korach, and the entire wealth; they and all that was theirs descended alive to the pit; the earth covered them over and they were lost from the congregation” (ibid. 16:32-33). 

Bnei Yisrael flee, fearing that the earth will swallow them as well. 

The chapter ends with the fate of Korach’s group: “A flame came forth from Hashem and consumed the 250 men who were offering the incense” (ibid. 16:35).

Ambiguity in the Torah she'bi'Chsav’s Account

Notice anything? The pesukim never explicitly say what happened to Korach. In fact, there is a great deal of textual ambiguity. On the one hand, the pesukim imply that Korach was among “those wicked men” (ibid. 16:26) who were swallowed up with Dasan and Aviram. If Korach’s followers, household, and wealth were swallowed, it is certainly reasonable to assume that Korach himself was swallowed. On the other hand, the pesukim state that Korach was trying to prove that he deserved to be the kohen gadol, and Moshe’s whole test of offering the ketores was seemingly designed around Korach’s challenge. On that basis, it would be reasonable to assume that Korach was among the 250 men who offered the ketores and he was burned in the fire, like they were.

The three other accounts of the Korach Rebellion in Tanach only add layers to this ambiguity. Later on in Sefer Bamidbar (Parashas Pinchas) the Torah states: 

Dasan and Aviram [were the ones] who were summoned by the assembly, who contended against Moshe and Aharon among the assembly of Korach, when they contended against Hashem. Then the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and Korach with the death of the assembly, when the fire consumed the 250 men – and they became a sign. But the sons of Korach did not die (Bamidbar 26:9-11).

It seems clear from here that Korach did get swallowed up along with Dasan and Aviram, and was not burned in the fire with the 250 men. Yet, in Sefer Devarim, when Moshe lists the miraculous events that occurred in Yetzias Mitzrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) and in the Midbar (Wilderness), he says: 

[Remember] what He did to Dasan and Aviram, the sons of Eliav ben Reuven, when the earth opened its mouth wide and swallowed them, and their households, and their tents, and all the fortunes at their feet, in the midst of all Israel (Devarim 11:6).

No mention of Korach whatsoever. Similarly, when David ha’Melech is going over the miraculous events of Yetzias Mitzrayim and the Midbar in Sefer Tehilim, he writes:

They were jealous of Moshe in the camp, and of Aharon, Hashem’s holy one. The earth opened and swallowed Dasan, and covered over the company of Aviram. And a fire burned amid their company, a flame set the wicked ablaze (Tehilim 106:15-17).

Again, there is no mention of Korach being swallowed up in the earth – or being burned in the fire, for that matter. Only Dasan and Aviram are identified as being swallowed up, and the pasuk doesn’t specify which “wicked” people were burned. 

Chazal’s Answer

As we might expect, Chazal noted these difficulties and offered two possible answers to our question – neither of which is what we would expect. The Gemara in Sanhedrin 10a states:

… Rebbi Yochanan said: Korach was not among those who were swallowed [by the earth] NOR was he among those who were burned. He wasn’t among those who were swallowed, as it is written: “All of the people who belonged to Korach” – [which implies them] but not Korach. He wasn’t among those who were burned, as it was written: “when the fire consumed the 250 men” – [which implies that the fire consumed them] but not Korach. 

It was taught in a Braisa: Korach was among those who were burned AND he was among those who were swallowed. He was among those who were swallowed, as it is written: “and the earth swallowed them and Korach.” He was among those who were burned, as it is written: “a fire went forth from before Hashem and consumed the 250 men” – and Korach was with them [since he, too, was vying for the kehunah].

Neither R’ Yochanan nor the author of the Braisa maintain that Korach was only swallowed up or only burned. Either he was swallowed AND burned, or he was neither. 

A couple of factual loose ends remain. According to R’ Yochanan, how did Korach die? Rashi [1] explains:

he was not among those who were swallowed nor was he among those who were burned – rather, he died in the plague. 

According to Rashi, R’ Yochanan holds that Korach died in the plague described in the next chapter, in which 14,000 of Bnei Yisrael died as a punishment for complaining against Moshe and Aharon and accusing them of killing the 250 leaders who offered the incense. 

And according to the Braisa, how is it possible that Korach was burned to death AND swallowed alive? Rashi explains:

He was among those who were burned and he was among those who were swallowed – his soul was burned (i.e. the fire killed him) but his body was still intact, and afterwards [his body] rolled to the place of those who were swallowed, and it was swallowed, as it is written in Parashas Pinchas: “and it swallowed them, and Korach with them” … and Korach was with them. [the Braisa cites a proof] from that which was written: “and it consumed the 250 men who offered the incense” – and Korach was among those who offered the incense, as it is written: “250 fire-pans – and you, and Aharon, each man with his fire-pan.”

The Significance of this Machlokes

The very existence of this machlokes, combined with the fact that both views are defensible from a textual standpoint, indicates that nobody actually knows for sure what happened to Korach. Each of the sides is speculating and citing textual evidence for support. 

The question for us is: What is this machlokes really about? What is the crux of the machlokes? Surely R’ Yochanan and the author of the Braisa would concede that the text is ambiguous. That being said, what non-textual argument would each side bring to support his view? 

[Methodological reminder: this is a midrash we're dealing with here, and the purpose of midrashim is to teach ideas - not history. That's why we're interested in what we learn from this midrash rather than what actually happened.]

Maharal’s Explanation of the Braisa

The Maharal [2] provides a solid explanation of the Braisa:

It is important for you to know that Dasan and Aviram, who quarreled with Moshe, did not seek the kehunah at all; they were just sinful and evil men who wanted to quarrel with Moshe. 

However, the 250 men did seek the kehunah, as is clear from the pasuk: “the 250 men who offered incense.” Therefore, Dasan and Aviram were swallowed … but the 250 men were not swallowed, but burned … for this is what is befitting for someone who seeks [a position of] greatness and distinction which is not appropriate for him. Their intent was not for the sake of opposing [Moshe’s authority], but because they wanted the prominence and distinction of the kehunah. All of this is evident from the pesukim, and there is no need to go on at length about it. 

Korach was the cause of the quarrel [with Moshe] and he was the cause of the 250 men wanting the kehunah … in the Braisa it was taught that both [punishments befell] him, since both sins were found in him.

This explanation is quite intuitive. There were really two chataim (sins) here: quarreling with Moshe, and seeking the kehunah. Those who sinned by starting up with Moshe (i.e. Dasan and Aviram) were punished by being swallowed by the earth; those who sinned by illicitly offering the ketores because they wanted the kehunah (i.e. the 250 men) were punished by being burned; and since Korach led both groups, and partook of both chataim, he received both punishments. 

Maharal’s Explanation of R’ Yochanan

This leaves us with R’ Yochanan. Why, according to R’ Yochanan, should Korach have suffered neither punishment, and instead, died in the subsequent plague, along with the 14,000 other members of Bnei Yisrael who didn’t have an active role in either of the two groups of sinners? 

The Maharal offers an answer along the lines of his explanation of the Braisa:

If Korach had been swallowed, he wouldn’t have received the punishment that was befitting of the 250 men who sought the kehunah – and if he had been burned, he wouldn’t have received the punishment that was befitting for him because of his quarrel, for he did join with Dasan and Aviram. Therefore [R’ Yochanan] said that he wasn’t among those who were swallowed nor was he among those who were burned; instead, death [simply] came to him, and by dying a regular death, it was equal to both [of the other punishments].

According to the Maharal, since Korach was in an awkward position of deserving both punishments, he simply died, so as not to detract from either of the two punishments by subjecting him to the other one. 

Moreover, it would seem that unlike Rashi, who holds that Korach died in the plague sent by Hashem to kill Bnei Yisrael, the Maharal holds that he died a regular “natural” death. 

Difficulties with the Maharal’s Answer

In my humble opinion, this answer is difficult, and feels a bit forced – especially in light of the Braisa’s intuitive account. The punishment received by each group was midah kneged midah (measure for measure). The 250 men who brought a “strange fire” were burned in a fire sent by Hashem, “a God Who is like a consuming fire” (Devarim 4:42). According to the Abravanel [3], Dasan and Aviram’s punishment was midah kneged midah because “just as they opened their mouths without restraint to damage Moshe Rabbeinu’s authority and lower his status in the eyes of the nation, Hashem caused the earth to open its mouth and cause them to descend to the utmost depths.” 

Considering the educational midah kneged midah nature of these punishments, it doesn’t seem satisfying to say, “Korach deserved both punishments, but since he couldn’t get both, he just died a regular death.” 

Furthermore, the author of the Braisa would object to the premise of R’ Yochanan’s position, saying: “What do you mean ‘he couldn’t get both punishments’? Hashem burned his soul and then caused his body to be swallowed by the earth. What’s so difficult about that?”

Chasam Sofer’s Explanation of R’ Yochanan

The Chasam Sofer [4] offers a different explanation for R’ Yochanan, which hinges on an often overlooked aspect of Korach’s punishment that we glossed over in the pesukim:

… the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and their households, and all the people who were with Korach, and the entire wealth; they and all that was theirs descended alive to the pit; the earth covered them over and they were lost from the congregation.

The Chasam Sofer writes:

Korach was one of the wealthiest people; everyone honored him, and the 250 princes of Israel followed after his counsel. But now, in a single moment, he found himself standing naked as the day he was born, deprived of all his tremendous wealth without a single thing remaining, for everything – even a sewing-needle – was swallowed in the earth, and all of his relatives and friends were either swallowed or burned; even his sons did teshuvah and distanced themselves from him. There is no greater degradation than this. Its taste is far more bitter than death, and worse than being swallowed or burned. 

According to the Chasam Sofer, Korach’s punishment was midah kneged midah. He sinned by staging a coup to seize the kehunah gedolah for the sake of personal glory, and he was punished by having every last vestige of personal glory taken away from him. This, to my mind, is a more satisfying explanation of R’ Yochanan’s view. 

The Crux of the Machlokes

In light of the Chasam Sofer’s explanation, it turns out that the machlokes is really more unified than it initially seemed. Both the Braisa and R’ Yochanan agree (a) that there were two groups of sinners, (b) that each group’s punishment was midah kneged midah, (c) that Korach was leading cause of both chataim, and (d) that Korach’s punishment was also midah kneged midah. 

The machlokes between the Braisa and R’ Yochanan centers on the question: As the cause of both chataim, what form would Korach’s midah kneged midah punishment take? 

According to the Braisa, Korach simply received both midah kneged midah punishments. In contrast, R’ Yochanan maintained that the combination of these two midah kneged midah punishments would result in some deficiency – either because the message would be diluted, as the Maharal implied with his explanation, or because Korach’s sin as the leader was more severe than that of his followers, or because there was some superadded element within Korach’s sin which was not present in either of the two groups of his followers. Either way, Korach’s midah kneged midah punishment took on a form specific to him – one which singled him out from both groups, removed him from the community at large, and most importantly, stripped him of all the glory and power he so desperately sought, leaving him with absolutely nothing – “a fate worse than death” for a man of Korach’s ambitions.

Conclusion

That’s all I’ve got at this point. Perhaps someone can sharpen the definition of the machlokes. 

Either way, I think this is a great example of how we shouldn’t rely on our “elementary school level” recollection of the classic episodes in Torah, but should always read the text with fresh eyes and a fresh mind – and when we find “new” problems, we should search for answers and insights from the baalei Mesorah who preceded us and blazed these trails of understanding.

[1] Rabbeinu Shlomo ben Yitzchak (Rashi), Commentary on Sanhedrin 110a

[2] Rav Judah Loew ben Bezalel, Chidushei Agados l’Maharal on Sanhedrin 110a

[3] Don Yitzchak Abravanel, Commentary on Bamidbar 16:30

[4] Rav Moshe Schreiber, Toras Moshe: Parashas Korach, cited in Daf al Daf to Sanhedrin 110a