It is so humbling to stand together this Shabbat with friends, colleagues and neighbours of many traditions. For the world of interfaith dialogue these have been a very difficult 18 months. Some of the hardest we have ever known. And yet every day there are stories of hope and collaboration that show a different path forward. We gather not only across lines of faith, but across lines of difference, with the shared hope of building a world of understanding and peace together, even if in very small, everyday ways.
This week we hear Cantor Tamara read from Parashat Korach—the story of a great rebellion. Korach, a cousin of Moses, rises up against his seemingly one man show of leadership. With powerful rhetoric, he challenges Moses and Aaron, claiming that “all the people are holy”—so why should only they hold power?
I won’t lie, I have a lot of sympathy for Korach. On the surface, his arguments sound democratic, even prophetic. But our tradition reads it differently. Korach’s words, though cloaked in holiness, were motivated by ego. He wanted power for himself, not justice for all. He was not looking for understanding, but control.
The result? A community torn apart. A moment of chaos. A cautionary tale.
The story of Korach speaks deeply to our human condition. Across all faiths, we wrestle with the tension between healthy questioning, and painful division. How do we speak truth without destroying community? How do we uphold our own convictions while respecting the sacred dignity of others? Even within the Jewish community we at times struggle with the balance on this one, and I’m often reminded of the wisdom of my friend the Reverend Patrick Morrow, who a decade ago lamented to me that we seemed to be losing the ability to find a quality of disagreement. It’s wonderful to be able to come together and celebrate all that we share, but we also need to be able to live together when we don’t agree on everything. And in an age of social media bots, AI manipulation and 24 hour news streams, the challenges are only magnified.
In Judaism we have an idea of disagreements for the sake of heaven. Korach teaches us that there is a difference between holy dissent and destructive rebellion. Holy dissent seeks truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. It comes from a place of love, humility, and care for the whole. Destructive rebellion, by contrast, centres the self, not the community. It manipulates. It divides. And it leads to the breakdown of trust.
In today’s world—so fractured by partisanship, hatred, and violence—the message of Korach is urgent. We must learn to recognize the Korach impulse within ourselves: the desire to be right, to win, to dominate. And we must resist it with everything we have.
Instead, we are called—by all of our traditions I suspect—to something higher. We are called to listen more deeply. To speak more gently. To see the image of God in one another. This is a sacred task. One of holding space for disagreement without dehumanization. It is not wishy washy and it is not simple. It takes hard work from all of us. But we keep showing up for the work, and we are grateful to all those who do the same.
Perhaps today is not just an interfaith service. It is an act of sacred resistance—against the divisions that threaten to undo us, both internally and intercommunally. It is an affirmation that our shared humanity matters more than our differences.
As we leave the safety of this congregation that we have formed today, let us walk forward together—not as Korach did, seeking to break apart and thinking only of himself—but as Moses ultimately did, seeking to lead through service, humility, and love. It is also fair to say that Moses didn’t always find that path easy. Next shabbat, as the story continues to unfold, we will hear about Moses and his ability to lose his temper, frustrated at the endless moaning of the Israelites. We are all tested at times, and the frustrations of navigating the brokenness of the world around us can get the better of us. But it is always easier to find a way through when we do it together.
Thank you for continuing to walk the path with us, and may our labours see an end to violent conflict and suffering speedily and in our days.
Amen. Shabbat Shalom. Salaam. Peace.
