2010 Rosh Hashanah Sermon
by Rabbi Jodi Kornfeld
The Torah portion I chose is often referred to as “Korah’s Rebellion.” It tells the story of Korah, part of the priestly Levite family, and his followers, who challenge Moses’ authority and leadership. Korah wants to know why Moses is the sole leader of the community without any input from the people. As a result of their challenge, Korah and his followers do not fare well in the story, being swallowed up by the earth that opened at the bidding of an angry and punitive biblical god. Despite the fact that Korah’s rebellion is unsuccessful from the biblical storyteller’s point of view, it is the basis of the challenge that accounts for my choice today. It comes in what I consider the most important phrase in the entire story: Korah asks, isn’t everyone in this community holy, kedoshim? In effect, he is asking, is not each one of us worthy and equal? Do we each not have an active role to play and voice to lend to our community, particularly in determining its future? Korah’s plea in essence is one for democracy and the active participation required by it.
Throughout the ages up to and including our own time, Korah has not been well-received by commentators. He has raised suspicions about his motives; been scorned as a poor leadership model; and been interpreted to be seeking personal gain and advantage in the guise of advancing democratic values. The assault on Korah has cast him variously as a demagogue, a manipulator and part of an elite family seeking his share of the spoils. He has been attacked as one who speaks in appealing populist, democratic tones, but is really after self-aggrandizement and personal profit. The text itself does not set forth such descriptions and so invites a variety of interpretations. The criticism of Korah has been part of the theological agenda of preserving and elevating Moses’ status at all costs. But using the method of author Jonathan Kirsch, what he often calls seeking the “counter-traditions” in our texts, let us examine the plea of Korah. Indeed as Kirsch points out in his book Moses: A Life, “Korah and the other rebels do not appear quite as blameworthy to the contemporary reader as they did to the biblical sources.” (302) So we ask, are we better represented by the counter-tradition? Oftentimes it is the minority voice, the one otherwise suppressed by the agenda of those in power, that is a more accurate reflection of who we are. The minority voice requires courage; it entails making active choices and taking a stand. As humanists and as Jews, we cannot allow our voices to be silenced or dictated in the name of tradition. The “kahal”, the community, is multi-layered and speaks with many voices. There is no one tradition; no single “Judaism.” Korah metaphorically was speaking on our behalf. Aren’t we all worthy? The answer is a resounding yes. We each possess the power and ability to direct our own lives, and in the process influence our world for the better. We will not submit to arbitrary authority or strictures designed to deny our humanity or our dignity. Reaffirming this message is the purpose of our gathering at the New Year. We come together refusing to elevate authority over truth, as the biblical writer would have it. Rather we come to ratify and validate each of us as the rightful actors in our own stories, those stories that symbolically are represented at this time of year by the Book of Life. There is a tremendous responsibility in this from which we cannot escape, nor should we want to. We each can act on those beliefs that shape our worldview. Indeed, not only do we have that ability, but we are truly compelled to act.
In the Book of Ecclesiastes, which is part of the Bible’s wisdom literature, we read, “Whatever it is in your power to do, do with all your might.” (9:10) There is such empowerment in this verse. It should motivate us; inspire us; and instill in us a sense of purpose. We cannot idle away the hours when much work remains. As children, we have the opportunities for learning, and honoring those older than us. As parents, we daily face the challenge of raising moral and ethical children. As neighbors, we create a community dedicated to the values of honesty, tolerance and respect. As citizens, we work to ensure that democratic values are part of everyone’s lives. As humanists, we work to better the family of humankind, regardless of location, circumstance or difficulty. Are we not all worthy? Of course we are.
Korah’s challenge implies that each of us has a say in the direction our lives take. We are not consigned to anyone else’s agenda nor need we be subject to arbitrary authority. Ours is to question and assert our own authority. Of course rightful leadership is necessary in order for civil society to function; however, leadership at every level must always be responsive and accountable. Silence cannot betray our actions, and be a surrogate for what we believe. It is an old cliché that our actions speak louder than words. Mahatma Gandhi said, “It’s the action, not the fruit of the action, that’s important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power, may not be in your time, that there’ll be any fruit. But that doesn’t mean you stop doing the right thing. You may never know what results come from your action. But if you do nothing, there will be no result.” Perhaps a better expression of the idea that who we are, is defined by what we do, is as follows: “Don’t tell me what you believe. Show me what you do, and I’ll tell you what you believe.” In this coming year, if we reach out to those with whom we have differences, we believe in tolerance. If we seek to make amends with those with whom we have had quarrels, we believe in reconciliation. If we work for social justice, we believe in equal opportunity. A new year gives us the chance to renew our efforts, to embark on new activities that proclaim clearly what we believe. The words of the recent Bon Jovi song can easily create the soundtrack that Korah might have appreciated as we move forward: “We weren’t born to follow; come on and get up off of your knees. We weren’t born to follow; you gotta stand up for what you believe.”
None of this can be done by proxy. To reach the desired outcome requires active engagement. We are not Jewish by proxy where we let someone else determine for us what our identity as Jews will be. We are not citizens by proxy allowing others to dictate the policies most important to us but failing to be a part of the political process. And we are not concerned human beings by proxy, waiting for others to do what is necessary to bring about positive change. Each of us has a voice that first must be used in order to be heard. Each of us has a passion that must be followed. Korah’s rebellion cannot be understood as a caution against action because severe penalties can ensue. Life itself is a risky proposition. There is risk in every undertaking, whether that risk is emotional, physical or financial. Instead Korah’s rebellion, like the shofar sounded today, is a call to action. Our opinions matter; our participation is vital; our votes count; and our involvement is required.
Our task is to infuse our lives with action verbs and as a consequence with meaning. Rabbi Tarfon said in the Talmud, “Ours is not to complete the task, but neither can we refrain from starting it.” We each have a part to play in mending our fractured world. We should expect no less of ourselves, lest we deny our worthiness and our humanity. This new year, let us stand up and be counted; let us dedicate ourselves anew to starting the task. We will not be marginalized; fractionalized or diminished. Individually and collectively, we answer the sound of the shofar. We thereby answer our own question: we are all worthy.
It is stated in the Buddhist tradition, “However many holy words you read, however many you speak, what good will they do you if you do not act on upon them?” Passivity is for by-standers. This is Korah’s message, but it is actually the overriding message of Rosh Hashanah itself. The holiday is not called “kol hashanah,” the new year. Rather, the very name of the holiday includes the Hebrew word ‘rosh’ meaning head. Just as Rosh Hashanah is the head of the year, we are reminded to use our heads. It is interesting to recognize that this point has been represented symbolically in the various foods Jews eat in many Jewish communities throughout the world. For example, a head of lettuce, or a head of a fish or even a head of a goat, is displayed or consumed at Rosh Hashanah. With such concrete imagery, our traditions illustrate we should act as the head of the pack, not the trailer. When we act as leaders, we become the head of what we do. Leadership, not “follower-ship,” is to be cultivated. Critical thinking skills are to be strengthened at this time of year. We can lead others to what is righteous and good behavior, acting as moral example. We are to question, not submit. We are to challenge authority in order to seek truth. We are not celebrating the year just concluded, resting on our past accomplishments; but rather we are looking forward to the year to come and the many opportunities it will hold to make a difference. As you look around you, you see that though the challenges are many, you are not alone. Together, our voices are richer. Together, we are a worthy community. We gather strength and inspiration from each other. It is something we can revel in. At various times, we will be asked to take on the lead, and at other times we may be supporting players. But at no time should we accept being on the sidelines of our lives. Korah would have it no other way.
