Parshat Korach6 min read

Korah Grabbed the Temple Gates When They Sank Into Gehinnom

Korah looked into the future and saw Samuel and twenty-four Temple singers coming out of his own line. He decided God would never let their father die.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Three Hundred White Mules for the Keys
  2. The Cousin Who Got the Job
  3. What He Saw When He Looked Ahead
  4. The Voice Under the Ground
  5. The Gates That Sank Down to Them
Korah Grabbed the Temple Gates When They Sank Into Gehinnom Click for full size

Three Hundred White Mules for the Keys

During the lean years Joseph sold grain to a starving world and took in more money than any treasury had ever held. He put up three buildings, each a hundred cubits long and a hundred wide and a hundred high, packed them with silver, and handed the lot to Pharaoh. He would not keep back five shekels of it for his own children.

Generations later Korah found one of the three.

After that he needed three hundred white mules for nothing but carrying the keys to his own storehouses. He walked out of Egypt the richest private man in the nation and pitched his tent in the wilderness with a fortune he could not spend on anything, because the food came down free every morning and there was nobody to sell to.

The Cousin Who Got the Job

Kohath had four sons. Amram first, then Izhar, then Hebron, then Uzziel.

Amram's boys had taken everything. Aaron was high priest. Moses ran the nation. Korah was the son of Izhar, second in the line, and when the post of prince over the Kohathites came open Moses handed it to Elizaphan, who was the son of Uzziel, the youngest of the four.

Korah said it out loud to anyone who would listen. Amram was the firstborn and his sons took the privileges of a firstborn, fine. But Izhar came next. The right belonged to him and it went to the child of the last brother.

"Therefore I will stir up a rebellion against Moses," he said, "and overthrow every institution he founded."

What He Saw When He Looked Ahead

Korah was not a fool, and that was the trouble. He was far too clever to believe God would stand by with folded arms while a rebellion against Moses succeeded. Something had to be underwriting him, and he thought he knew what it was, because he could see forward.

He looked down his own line and found Samuel standing in it, a man who would weigh as much as Moses and Aaron together. He looked further and found twenty-four of his descendants with the spirit of God on them, composing psalms and singing them inside the Temple.

A man whose family tree grows that does not get swallowed. God would not destroy the father of Samuel. Korah walked into the assembly the next morning with the future in his pocket.

His eye had not looked sharply enough. What he had seen was true and what he concluded from it was wrong by one generation. The singers and the prophet were coming through his sons, and they were coming because his sons would turn around at the last second and repent of exactly the rebellion he was about to start. The future he was leaning on was the reward for abandoning him.

The Voice Under the Ground

The earth opened and took him down alive with everything he owned, and closed.

His sons looked up. There is a line in Proverbs that the path of life runs upward for the wise, and the ones who look up are the ones who come out. Korah's sons looked up and were spared. Their father did not look up, and he went down.

The ground was not the end of the sentence. Korah and his company burn in Gehinnom, the place where the wicked are punished, and once every thirty days Gehinnom (the realm of judgment after death) heaves them back up near the surface, to the exact patch of dirt where they went in. Put your ear to that ground on the right day and you can hear them from underneath. They are not screaming and they are not cursing anyone. They are saying the same sentence over and over.

Moses is truth, and his Torah is truth, and we are liars.

The Gates That Sank Down to Them

For a long stretch of that they believed nothing would ever change. Then Hannah, standing in the sanctuary at Shiloh, said a line that had nothing to do with them and everything to do with them. The Lord brings down to Sheol, and the Lord brings up.

They did not trust it. They had heard promises before, and they were the ones who had been made an example of.

Then the Temple came down. Jerusalem burned, and the gates of the house went into the earth, and they kept going, down past the roots and the water until they reached the place where Korah was. He saw the doorposts of God's house come through the wall of his own punishment.

He got his hands on them and would not let go. "If these gates ever go back up," he said, "we go up through them."

God gave him the job. Korah and his whole company were appointed keepers of the sunken gates, and they stand watch over them down there and will keep standing watch until the day the gates rise and take them out. The punishment ends at the resurrection. For all of it, they were never handed over to be lost forever.

The richest man in Israel ended up on guard duty at a burned building, holding a door with both hands and waiting for it to move.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 5:2Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

He wasn't a Canaanite, those ancient inhabitants of the land of Israel. But, like some of them, Korah serves as a cautionary tale: immense wealth, squandered by pride. The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) tells us that Korah was no ordinary man; he was Pharaoh's treasurer! They say he had 300 white mules just to carry the keys to his treasure rooms! As (Proverbs 11:28) says, "He that trusts in his riches shall fall." And fall, Korah did.

So, how did he amass such a fortune? The story, as retold by Ginzberg in Legends of the Jews, is quite fascinating. Remember Joseph, from the Book of Genesis? When he was second-in-command in Egypt, and oversaw the grain distribution during the years of famine? Well, all that grain was paid for, and Joseph, being an honest man, amassed tremendous wealth for Pharaoh. He built three enormous storehouses, each a hundred cubits wide, long, and high – absolutely packed with money. And when the famine ended, he turned it all over to Pharaoh. Joseph was too scrupulous to even keep a few silver shekels for his own family. Korah, somehow, discovered one of these hidden treasuries.

This incredible wealth led to his downfall. As we find in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), "Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot." Korah, it seems, was not. His newfound riches swelled his ego, and he began to feel slighted. He became convinced that Moses had unfairly favored others, specifically by appointing his cousin Elizaphan as the chief of the Kohathite Levites.

Korah's argument, as presented in Numbers 16, went something like this: "My grandfather, Kohath, had four sons: Amram, Izhar, Hebron, and Uzziel. Amram, being the eldest, got all the perks – Aaron is the High Priest, and Moses is the king! But I, the son of Izhar, the second son, should be the prince of the Kohathites! But Moses skipped over me and appointed Elizaphan, whose father, Uzziel, was the youngest! I will stir up rebellion and overthrow everything!"

Now, Korah wasn't stupid. He was a wise man. The Zohar tells us that he knew God wouldn't just stand idly by while someone rebelled against Moses. But here's the tragic irony: Korah possessed a prophetic vision! He foresaw that Samuel, a prophet as great as both Aaron and Moses, would be his descendant. He also knew that twenty-four of his descendants, inspired by the Ruach (spirit) HaKodesh (Holy Spirit), would compose and sing Psalms in the Temple.

He thought to himself: "God wouldn't let the father of such righteous people perish, would He?" But Korah's vision wasn't clear enough. He didn't see that his own sons would repent of their rebellion and because of that repentance, they would be deemed worthy of fathering prophets and Temple singers. He only saw the glory of his future lineage, not his own tragic end.

And so, driven by pride and a distorted vision, Korah launched his rebellion, challenging the authority of Moses and Aaron. He focused on his perceived slight by Moses and the appointment of Elizaphan to incite others. The outcome, as we know, was catastrophic. The earth opened up and swallowed Korah and his followers. A truly terrifying end.

Korah's story is a powerful reminder that wealth and power, without humility and a clear vision of what truly matters, can lead to devastating consequences. It begs the question: What are we truly striving for? And are we willing to sacrifice our integrity, our relationships, and ultimately, ourselves, for the sake of ambition?

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Legends of the Jews 5:22Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

A pretty definitive ending, it first appears.

The story doesn't stop there. Oh no. Jewish tradition loves to explore the "what happens next?" What happens to these rebels after such a cataclysmic event?

In Legends of the Jews, even that terrifying death wasn't enough to fully atone for Korah and his followers' sins. Their punishment, it turns out, continues in Gehenna – that's the Jewish concept of hell. That's already a pretty bleak picture. But there's more.

The story takes another turn. Every thirty days, Gehenna spits them back out, right near the spot where they were originally swallowed by the earth. There they are, brought back to the very place of their demise.

And here’s the truly chilling part: if you were to put your ear to the ground on that specific day, you would hear them crying out. What would they be saying? "Moses is truth, and his Torah is truth, but we are liars." A confession, born of unending torment. A stark admission of their monumental error.

What kind of cosmic justice demands such a drawn-out, repetitive punishment?

Even in the face of their grave sin, Korah and his followers weren't condemned to eternal damnation. There is an end in sight, eventually. The Legends of the Jews tell us that their punishment will finally cease after the Resurrection.

So, what does this all mean? Is it just a scary story meant to keep us in line? Or is there something deeper going on here? Perhaps it's a reminder that even the most severe punishments are not necessarily eternal. Maybe it speaks to the enduring power of repentance, even if that repentance comes from the depths of Gehenna itself. It certainly gives you something to think about.

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Legends of the Jews 5:23Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

You remember Korah. He was the guy who led a rebellion against Moses in the wilderness, challenging his authority. And, as we read in Numbers 16, the earth opened up and swallowed him and his entire company. Yikes.

That's not the end of the story.

The Legends of the Jews, that incredible collection of rabbinic stories compiled by Louis Ginzberg, gives us a fascinating epilogue. For a while, Korah and his crew are convinced they're doomed to eternal torment in Sheol, the underworld.

Then comes Hannah.

Yes, that Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel! The text doesn't specify that this is definitely the same Hannah, but it's a compelling connection! She offers them a prophecy, a lifeline. She quotes (1 Samuel 2:6), saying, "The Lord bringeth low, to Sheol, and lifteth up." In other words, even from the depths, there's the potential for redemption.

At first, Korah and his followers struggle to believe it. They're literally in hell! But then, something amazing happens.

According to the legend, when God destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem (we're talking about the First Temple's destruction in 586 BCE), its portals sank deep into the earth, all the way down to Sheol. Now, this is where it gets really interesting. Korah and his company grab onto those portals, clinging to them with all their might. “If these portals return again upward," they say, "then through them shall we also return upward.”

Talk about faith!

And what happens next?

Well, God appoints them as guardians of these very portals. Their task? To stand guard until the portals, and they along with them, return to the upper world. It's a strange, almost paradoxical form of punishment and redemption rolled into one. They're still in the underworld, but they have a purpose, a responsibility, a connection to the world above.

What does it all mean?

Perhaps it's a reminder that even in the face of seemingly insurmountable consequences, hope remains. The Zohar, the central text of Kabbalah, often emphasizes the cyclical nature of existence, the idea that descent is often a prelude to ascent. Maybe Korah’s story is a powerful illustration of that principle. Even those who have fallen the furthest can find a path back, a way to contribute, a chance for renewal. Even, perhaps, a tikkun (spiritual repair) olam, a repairing of the world, from the most unlikely of places.

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Midrash Tehillim 32:1Midrash Tehillim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Rabbi Mike Feuer, Jerusalem Anthology · CC-BY

Midrash Tehillim turns to What Happened to Korah's Sons After They Repented.

It all begins with a verse from Proverbs (15:24): "The path of life leads upward for the wise." What does it mean to look upward? The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) uses the story of the sons of Korach to illustrate this point. Remember Korach's rebellion against Moses? His sons, unlike their father, chose to look upward, to acknowledge God. And what happened? They were saved. As (Psalm 34:6) says, "Look to Him and be radiant." Their father, however, did not look upward, and the earth swallowed him whole. "They went down alive into Sheol" (Numbers 16:33), the Midrash reminds us, Sheol being the land of the dead, the underworld.

The Midrash then connects this idea to David himself. "To David, the intelligent one," it says, emphasizing that David's ability to look upward, to acknowledge his imperfections and seek forgiveness, was the key to his greatness. It wasn't about being perfect; it was about striving for something higher.

It's not just for the righteous. Even the wicked, the Midrash suggests, can find forgiveness by looking upward. If even Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king, could find redemption by raising his eyes to heaven (Daniel 4:34), then surely there's hope for all of us. And for the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – for the people of Israel – looking upward is even more powerful.

But what does it mean, practically, to "look upward"? The Midrash implies it's about acknowledging our sins and confessing them before God. Think of David, who, despite his flaws, was considered a successful leader. (1 (Samuel 18:1)4) tells us that "David had success in all his endeavors, for the Lord was with him." And because of this success, and his subsequent humility, he was covered for sin. He desisted from his negative actions and confessed before God, as he himself says in (Psalm 32:5): "I acknowledged my sin to You, and I did not conceal my iniquity."

It's a beautiful and surprisingly simple message: that the path to a better life isn't about perfection, but about direction. It's about choosing to look upward, to acknowledge our mistakes, and to strive for something greater. It’s about recognizing that even in our darkest moments, there's always the possibility of forgiveness and redemption. So, the next time you feel lost or overwhelmed, remember the wisdom of the Midrash: look up. What do you see? What possibilities await?

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