By Michael R. Mantell in El Cajon, California
Parsha Korach is often understood as a story about conflict, but beneath the turbulence lies a timeless question: What do we do when life unfolds differently than we hoped? This week’s Torah lesson is about what happens when we lose sight of our own path.
The person who lives well is not the one who possesses the most. It is the one who recognizes the value of what has already been entrusted to them. Such a person is free to celebrate the successes of others without feeling threatened by them. They understand that another person’s blessing does not diminish their own. Let’s dive into this idea.
Korach had influence, intelligence, status, and opportunity. Yet none of it was enough because his attention was fixed on someone else’s role. Instead of asking, “What am I meant to do with the gifts Hashem has given me?” he became preoccupied with what belonged to Moshe and Aharon. In doing so, he lost sight of his own purpose.
It is a profoundly human tendency. We look sideways and wonder why someone else has what we don’t. We compare our lives to theirs, often forgetting that we are comparing our private struggles to their public successes. The more we focus on what is missing, the harder it becomes to appreciate what is already present.
Comparison is one of the most powerful distortions of reality. It narrows our vision until we can no longer see our blessings clearly. We become experts at counting what others have while overlooking what Hashem has entrusted to us. We measure our private struggles against another person’s public image. We compare our behind-the-scenes reality to someone else’s highlight reel. As we say in helping people deal with the adversity of comparison, “compare and despair.”
But comparison creates another problem. It draws our attention toward things we often cannot control. Another person’s success. Another person’s opportunities. Another person’s circumstances. The result is frustration, resentment, and a growing sense of powerlessness. The Torah offers a different path.
Instead of asking, “Why don’t I have what they have?” it asks, “What has Hashem placed in my hands, and what will I do with it?” That question shifts us from envy to responsibility, from helplessness to purpose. It’s important to keep in mind that our Sages cautioned us that “jealousy, desire, and pursuit of honor remove a person from the world.”
Much of life’s emotional pain comes from trying to control what was never ours to control. We cannot dictate outcomes, rewrite the past, or manage every circumstance. We cannot choose every challenge that comes our way. What we can choose is our response. That is where our real power lies.
Korach believed he deserved a position of greater honor and status. Consumed by jealousy, he challenged the leadership structure that Hashem had established through Moshe. While Korach’s motives may be understandable, especially since the Midrash teaches that he foresaw great descendants emerging from him, why did Datan, Aviram, and the tribe of Reuven join a rebellion from which they had little to gain and so much to lose?
Our Sages answer: “Woe to the wicked, and woe to his neighbor.” Reuven camped near Korach and his followers, and proximity bred influence. Surrounded by discontent and rebellion, they were drawn into a cause that was not truly theirs. Only On ben Peletz’s wife recognized the folly. She asked her husband what he stood to gain: whether Moshe or Korach prevailed, he would remain a follower. Yet even clear logic was not enough to overcome the pull of the crowd. Her actions saved him, highlighting the extraordinary power of peer influence.
The Rambam teaches that a person must distance himself from negative influences and seek environments that elevate rather than diminish spiritual growth. Human nature has not changed. The people, media, environments, and relationships we choose continue to shape us profoundly.
This lesson of Korach is timeless: choose your influences carefully. Our spiritual, emotional, and moral well-being, and that of our children, depends on the company we keep and the environments we create. We can be strong with our faith, not with our possessions.
The strongest people are not those who get everything they want. They are those who refuse to surrender their values, gratitude, and sense of purpose when life does not unfold according to plan. They are true leaders. They focus less on what is beyond their reach and more on what remains within it. This reduces inner – and outer – conflict.
Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun.