“Korach 5785 – A Duty to Dissent” Rabbi Slipakoff’s Qabbalat Shabbat Sermon, 6/27/25

Rabbi Dan Slipakoff
Qabbalat Shabbat, June 27, 2025
Temple Israel of Boston

Shabbat Shalom, it is great to be in community with all of you. We need it more than ever.

Parashat Korach, Numbers 16, we find Korach, a Levite of some standing, and his followers rising up against Moses and Aaron, challenging their leadership with these powerful words: “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and GOD is in their midst.
Why then do you raise yourselves above GOD’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:3)

Moses responds to the challenge with a test to see who’s sacrifice will be acceptable to God. 

What follows is dramatic. The ground opens up, and consumes the 250 Israelites from Korach’s camp. 

It is a protest met with a divine crackdown, and for many years, I was taught this as a cautionary tale: don’t challenge legitimate authority.
Don’t confuse Korach’s ego for prophecy. And there’s some truth in that.

But many commentators—especially in recent years— have returned to Korach with new eyes. They see in him a frustrated voice, calling out centralized power and elite control of holiness. Maybe his rebellion was flawed. Maybe his ego got in the way. But maybe his critique had truth in it.

And we can and should debate the merits and demerits of Korach. But that’s not the end of the story. 

And it’s what happens next that has grabbed my attention. 

In Chapter 17, kol adat bnei yisrael—the whole Israelite community— rail against Moses and Aaron. “You two have brought death upon God’s people!” (Numbers 17:6).

This is no longer just Korach and his 250 followers. This is the whole nation, grieving, afraid, and speaking up. Are they mistakenly blaming Moses for God’s decisions and actions? Or are they crying out to their representative, the ones closest to the power source to do something to protect the people? 

In response to their outcry, a plague breaks out. 

Moses, now urgently tells Aaron to make a sacrifice, reparations on behalf of the people to quell God’s wrath- 

Beautifully phrased, Aaron stands between the living and the dead until the plague subsides.  

But in its wake, 14,700 Israelites perished. Death by dissent. 

You might argue that Moses and Aaron waited too long to act. They spend too much time defending their position, Angered that their authority has been challenged. 

But they do eventually act. Even in the face of God’s wrath. They stand in the breach. And that, too, is dissent. It’s not for ego, or a bid for power. It’s their duty. And it likely saved further lives. 

But I can’t shake the thought: What would have happened if that courage came sooner?

I am thinking a lot about dissent this week.

As the Supreme Court hands down rulings before summer recess. 

Let me say quickly, I gave a Korach sermon, this week, three years ago, and spoke a lot on how I feel about the fate of justice in the hands of the politically compromised… and those feelings still hold. 

I have only begun to wrap my head around all the decisions passed down, and the aftermath we will be living in. 

So many of the court rulings are split along predictable ideological lines: 6–3. 

And in decision after decision, the liberal justices— Kagan, Sotomayor, and Jackson— three women of valor, continue to write forceful, deeply moral dissents. 

“Because such complicity should know no place in our system of law, I dissent” – Justice Sotomayor

“With deep disillusionment, I dissent” – Justice Jackson

“Because I will not be complicit in so grave an attack on our system of law, I dissent” – Justice Sotomayor

“With fear for our democracy, I dissent” – Justice Sotomayor

They know they won’t change the ruling. They know they are in the minority. But they speak anyway. They have to. It’s their duty. 

And someday, god willing soon, these dissents will be more widely recognized as the moral compass that they are.

Because dissent doesn’t only change the present— it plants seeds for a future that must find its way back to what we can recognize as justice.

In their fear and anguish, the Israelites reached a sacred response our voices must be heard, our leadership must be accountable for the change we yearn to see.

One of my social media teachers is a woman named Jess Craven, she calls herself a Practivist – a practical activist, 

Her Substack newsletter is called Chop Wood, Carry Water.

The title comes from a Buddhist teaching: Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.

It means: don’t stop doing the work, even if you don’t see the transformation yet, and when you do realize the fruits of your labor – keep doing what got you there, keep putting the work in. 

Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, gave a similar teaching. “If you should be holding a sapling in your hand when they tell you the Messiah has arrived,” he advised, “first plant the sapling, then go out and greet him.”

Craven gives people practical ways to take action every single day. She’s been on the streets in Los Angeles. She’ll tell you how to show up for marginalized communities.

She calls her representatives every single day. She tells them when she thinks things are going wrong— And I have no doubt that someday, she’ll call to thank them when things finally go right.

Chop Wood, Carry Water

It’s not a performance, it’s a practice.

And it’s our Jewish practice to argue. to protest. To question authority. To ask, “Why?” And to work towards repair.

We don’t erase disagreement—we canonize it. We don’t just honor the winning argument—we teach the rejected ones, too. 

And we study them. Year after year after year. Because together, they tell the whole story.

Dissent is not betrayal. Dissent is Torah. And committing to making your voice heard, especially when it’s sounds different, even if it’s late,
especially when it feels lonely— may be the most Jewish act of all.

Because here’s the not so subtle secret. It’s not really lonely. That is a myth of divisive power, The false narrative that your voice is small, isolated, and meaningless.

Far from it my friends.

There is strength in numbers. There is power in shared purpose. And at any given moment there is a sacred song being sung  which needs your voice in the choir. That’s our duty.

We do not act alone. We rise up in community. Onsite, Online, in the streets, in the halls of government. In any and all the ways we can

Together, we carry forward our Judaism that insists: All the people are holy. All our voices matter. And none of us stand alone

So with faith in our community trust in our tradition, And with confidence in our unshakeable spirit – I too, dissent