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Korah's Sons Became Lilies After the Fire

The camp called them thorns, the same as their father. When the fire came they named themselves lilies, and the ground left them a ledge.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Ground Left a Ledge
  2. We Are Lilies
  3. The Psalm Took Their Name
  4. Moses Asked to See What Remained

The camp already knew what the name Korah meant. Fire had come out from before God. The earth had opened its mouth. Anyone who looked at the sons said they were thorns. Thorns sprout like grass, and the fire takes them. That ending was already written on their faces before they spoke.

Korah's Sons Became Lilies After the Fire Click for full size

The Ground Left a Ledge

When the earth heaved, the sons did not go down with their father. A place had been prepared in the hollow, a ledge the punishment did not finish. Dust came up where the men had been. The noise of everything above going down filled the dark. They sat there while the ground swallowed the tents, and they waited.

They could not change the father. They could refuse his company. They felt the tilt. They heard the camp scream. They kept their mouths shut on the rebellion that had just eaten the men standing over them. The earth that opened for Korah closed short of his children.

Later they came up into air that still smelled of burned wool. The crack in the wilderness did not close in the mind of the camp. People walked around it. The sons walked out of it.

We Are Lilies

Korah and his assembly had talked like men beating gold into a crown. They said the Holy One wanted vessels you can weigh, incense you can see, rank you can count. God answered them from the old line. The silver is Mine, and the gold is Mine. Even the incense can be an abomination. What am I asking for? Lilies.

The sons spoke when the fire had already chosen its food.

"We are lilies."

God said, "You have been victorious."

A king enters a country, and the people rush out with gold and pearls for a crown, then stop in the road and tell one another the king does not want that. There are lilies here. The country rejoices. Korah reached for the gold. The sons named themselves the thing God had asked for, and the fire that ate thorns passed them by.

The Psalm Took Their Name

Psalm 45 opens on white lilies, a maskil of the sons of Korah. The name that should have condemned them is the name that introduces the song. They were chosen from among the thorns so they would not be consumed with them. The Holy One saved them, and the poem kept the flower in the first line, so no one could call them thorns again without lying.

Lilies are not a decoration on a rebel's grave. They are what survived because they were not the fire's food. The camp had predicted grass and smoke. The psalm predicted a white flower, and then the sons had to live long enough to sing it.

Moses Asked to See What Remained

Moses stood at the edge of the crack after the noise stopped. He had received Torah mouth to mouth, and still he asked for opened eyes. "Open my eyes, that I may behold wonders from Your Torah" (Psalm 119:18). The wonder was not a hidden letter. It was a family the camp had already burned in its mind, standing up afterward with a song in their mouths.

He had told Israel they were a holy people, chosen, and that they had chosen back. God said, you are My portion. Israel said, the Lord is my portion. The sons of Korah made that choosing visible in one sentence. We are lilies. The wilderness still held the split in the earth. The psalm held the flower. Moses looked from one to the other and asked to see it clearly, because a man can watch a punishment and still miss the people it did not take.

MidrashPsalmsKorahMosesTorah
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From the tradition

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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.

Midrash Tehillim 45:1Midrash Tehillim

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

Midrash Tehillim turns to Korah and Moses and the Wilderness.

The verse in question is (Psalm 45:1): "To the conductor over the white lilies, a wise song of friendship." But what do lilies have to do with anything? The midrash, the interpretive story, connects this to a seemingly unlikely group: the sons of Korah.

You probably remember Korah. He was the guy who led a rebellion against Moses in the wilderness. A pretty serious offense. We read in (Numbers 16:35) that "fire came out from the Lord and consumed them." Yikes. But here's the twist: the sons of Korah weren't consumed. They survived.

The Midrash explains this in a deeply symbolic way. Initially, everyone saw the sons of Korah as thorns. imagery. (Isaiah 33:12) says, "Thorns will sprout like grass in the fire." Not exactly a flattering description. And (Exodus 22:5) speaks of fire spreading to thorn bushes. They were associated with the destructive fire that engulfed their father’s rebellion.

So, how did these "thorns" become "lilies"? That’s the central question. The Midrash Tehillim tells us that the sons of Korah, despite their lineage, were chosen from among the thorns, spared from the consuming fire. God, blessed be He, saved them.

The Midrash then uses a parable to illustrate this point. Imagine a king entering a country where the people want to create a magnificent crown for him, studded with gold, precious stones, and pearls. But then, they realize something crucial: the king doesn't actually desire a crown of gold. "There are lilies here," they exclaim, and the people rejoice.

The parallel is striking. Korah and his assembly assumed God wanted grand, impressive things, vessels of gold, perhaps. But God says, as we find in (Haggai 2:8), "The silver is Mine, and the gold is Mine." Even incense, as (Isaiah 1:13) tells us, is an abomination to God in that context. So, what does God want?

Lilies.

The sons of Korah, recognizing this, declare, "We are lilies." And God responds, "You have been victorious." They demonstrated humility, perhaps repentance, a turning away from the arrogance of their father. This is why the Psalm is dedicated "to the conductor, on the white lilies, a song of friendship." It's a song about redemption, about finding grace even in the shadow of immense wrongdoing.

It's a powerful reminder that we are not necessarily defined by our past, or by the actions of our families. We have the capacity to choose a different path, to become something beautiful and fragrant, like a lily blooming from thorny roots.

What does it mean to be a "lily" in your own life? Where are the "thorns" you're trying to overcome? Perhaps the story of the sons of Korah offers a glimmer of hope, a reminder that transformation is always possible.

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Midrash Tehillim 119:18Midrash Tehillim

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

The Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings and interpretations of the Book of Psalms, explores just that feeling, specifically in its exploration of Psalm 119.

'" (Psalm 119). But what does it really mean to keep God's words? The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) unpacks this idea, weaving in verses from across the Torah and the Prophets to reveal a powerful and intimate relationship between God and the Jewish people. Moses, in (Deuteronomy 7:6), tells the Israelites, "For you are a holy people to the Lord your God." But the Midrash Tehillim points out a subtle but crucial detail: the verse doesn't say "in you," but rather "in you the Lord your God has chosen." This seemingly small difference speaks volumes.

In Midrash, even one single Jew is more beloved before the Holy One, blessed be He, than all the nations of the world. (Isaiah 40:17) echoes this sentiment, stating, "All the nations are as nothing before Him. But why?

The answer, the Midrash suggests, lies in a mutual choosing. “He chose you, and you chose Him." Just like it says in (Psalm 135:4), "For Jacob, He chose for Himself." God chose Jacob, and Jacob chose Him. This is a relationship, a covenant. It's not just a one-way street.

The Song of Songs (6:3) beautifully captures this reciprocal love: "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine." The Midrash sees this as God saying to us, "You are My portion," and we, in turn, declaring, as it says in (Lamentations 3:24), "My portion, O Lord."

So, what does God ask of us in return for this profound connection? Not grand gestures or impossible feats. According to the Midrash, it's something much simpler, much more intimate. God asks us to keep His words in our hearts, to live by them. As (Deuteronomy 6:6-7) states, "And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart…". Similarly, (Deuteronomy 11:18) urges, "Therefore, you shall lay up these words of mine in your heart."

This brings us back to the opening statement: "I said, 'I will keep Your words.'" It's not just about rote memorization or empty promises. It's about internalizing God's teachings, making them a part of who we are, and living a life guided by those principles. It's about the ongoing dialogue, the reciprocal love, the shared portion.

The Midrash Tehillim concludes with a prayer: "I entreat Your favor with all my heart; be gracious to me according to Your promise." This is a reference to (Exodus 33:19), where God proclaims, "and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion." It's a plea for grace, a recognition of our dependence on God's mercy and love.

So, what does it all mean? Perhaps it's a reminder that we are not just individuals, but part of a larger story, a sacred covenant. A story of mutual choosing, of reciprocal love, and of a God who cherishes each and every one of us. And maybe, just maybe, that’s a story worth keeping close to our hearts.

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