By Rabbi Dr. Michael Leo Samuel in Chula Vista, California
Much of synagogue life involves a fair amount of kvetching, as the old riddle goes: How many congregants does it take to change a lightbulb? One to do the job, and nine to reminisce about how much better the old bulb used to be.
The Mishnah in Avot teaches us: “Every controversy that is carried on for Heaven’s sake will in the end be of lasting worth, but any that is not carried on for Heaven’s sake will in the end not be of lasting worth. What controversy was for Heaven’s sake? The controversy between Hillel and Shammai. What was not for Heaven’s sake? The controversy caused by Korah and his entire company” (Avot 5:17).
The crucial lesson is not what people argue about, but how and why they argue. This week’s parsha describes a rebellion that threatened to tear apart the Jewish people in the wilderness:
Now Korah, the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi—along with Dathan and Abiram, sons of Reuben—took men, and they rose up against Moses, with certain of the children of Israel, two hundred and fifty men… They assembled against Moses and Aaron and said: “You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire congregation—all of them—are holy, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you exalt yourselves above the assembly of the Lord?” (Numbers 16:1-3)
Controversy is nothing new in Jewish life. The academies of Hillel and Shammai differed on hundreds of issues, yet both were regarded as conveying “the words of the living God.” They maintained respect for one another, intermarried, and modeled the verse “Love truth and peace” (Zechariah 8:16). Their disputes were for the sake of Heaven—driven by the search for truth rather than ego or power.
Korah’s rebellion, by contrast, was rooted in envy, ambition, and a populist claim of equality that masked a grab for leadership. Too often, people in arguments insist they alone have a direct pipeline to God’s will or absolute truth, delegitimizing everyone else. They rarely recognize themselves in Korah; after all, they believe they are defending Torah or justice.
The Talmud recounts how Rabbi Eliezer, convinced of his position on the purity of a certain oven, invoked heavenly signs to support it. Despite this, the Sages overruled him based on the principle that “the Torah is not in heaven” but is interpreted through human reason and majority consensus (Bava Metzia 59b). The Hatam Sofer links this to Korah, teaching that even one who feels certain God is on his side must not read opposing views out of legitimacy.
Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk gave a clear test: When a group challenges its leaders or teachers, examine their behavior. If they remain harmonious and bound by love, it may be for Heaven’s sake. But if division, hatred, and envy dominate, it is not.
A well-known story captures the Jewish spirit of disagreement. Two neighbors locked in a dispute came to their rabbi. After listening to the first, the rabbi said, “You’re right.” After the second presented his case, the rabbi again said, “You’re right.” A bystander objected, “But they can’t both be right!” The rabbi replied, “You’re right too!” Judaism holds that a thing and its opposite can both contain truth, in contrast to Aristotle’s stricter logic. This allows for genuine respect even amid deep differences.
This parsha’s message feels especially urgent in our own time. We live in an era of heightened contention, where the drive to be “right” often overshadows the pursuit of truth or peace. Social media amplifies this: algorithms reward outrage, turning every issue—political, cultural, or religious—into a battlefield where nuance is lost and opponents are demonized as enemies rather than fellow seekers. We see it in polarized national politics, where each side claims exclusive moral or divine legitimacy. Within Jewish life, too, debates over Israel, observance, or communal leadership can quickly descend into personal attacks and schisms rather than constructive dialogue “for the sake of Heaven.”
Examples abound: family gatherings fractured by election-year arguments, online threads where disagreement leads to “cancellation” rather than conversation, or communal disputes in which one faction accuses the other of betraying core values while ignoring shared ground. Like Korah’s band, such controversies often begin with legitimate-sounding grievances (“everyone should have a voice”) but devolve into division and resentment. The result is weakened communities at a moment when unity is vital.
In this month of Tammuz, as we recall the breaching of Jerusalem’s walls and the destructions of the Temples—tragedies intensified by internal strife and baseless hatred (sinat chinam)—the lesson is clear. True arguments for Heaven’s sake build understanding and resilience. Those that do not tear us apart.
Let us commit to disagreeing with respect when necessary, but always emerging from our differences with accord, brotherhood, and a renewed dedication to the Jewish people and Torah. Shabbat Shalom
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Rabbi Dr. Michael Leo Samuel is spiritual leader of Temple Beth Shalom in Chula Vista, California