Pro-Hamas activists gather in Washington Square Park for a rally following a protest march held in response to an NYPD sweep of an anti-Israel encampment at New York University in Manhattan, May 3, 2024. Photo: Matthew Rodier/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect

One of the amazing features of the Torah is the way that it conveys human nature with all its greatness and pettiness, triumphs and failures.

This week, we look at the Korach rebellion, in which there are three different groups of protesters each with their own agenda.

Korach and the other Levites were fighting for a religious position and power. On Ben Pelet’s group represented the tribe of Ruben’s political fear of being replaced by the tribe of Judah. And Datan and Aviram were only concerned with their own physical and material interests.

This serious rebellion against the established authority of Moses and Aaron reflects precisely the sorts of conflicts of opinion and commitment that divide the Jewish people to this very day — those who do not identify with the nation, those animated by religious power and authority, and those whose values are the same material values as the secular Western world. Of course, my comparison is fanciful. But I hope it makes a valid point.

The children of Israel faced a crisis of self-image coming out of slavery and subjugation in Egypt. Nevertheless, they escaped from Egypt, arrived at Sinai, and had the national revelation. But almost immediately, they fall back into an idolatrous mindset. And when it came to proceeding to the land of Canaan and not relying on everything to be provided for them, the facade of unity collapsed.

It was clear that the nation was simply not ready to take upon itself the burden of responsibility of running their own affairs within a land of their own. The result was that they were sent back into the wilderness for another generation to prepare themselves psychologically and physically for what would happen 40 years later.

When Moses was faced with this rebellion, his first reaction was to “fall on his face” both in resignation and in supplication to God. God’s response was to give him the confidence to stand up to them.

Moses tries first to reason with them. When this fails, the miracles of the earth opening up — the fire that consumed the Levites who brought the censors, and the staffs that flowered and produced almonds — finally ended the revolt and restored order.

In those days, miracles were visible — and solved the problem. But now both in the Diaspora and in Israel, we are faced as never before with our internal divisions and the increasing tsunami of hatred and denial of our rights (and lives) across the world.

The picture looks so bleak from almost every point of view, so it is not surprising that more and more of us are looking for miracles. And because we can see no rational and logical fair resolution, we turn to prayer.

Prayer is a wonderful tool both of self-validation and connecting with spiritual energy beyond the physical world. But it’s not a tool that can guarantee anything. Similarly, the dream of a Messiah may give us a sense of hope, but we have no guarantees. Besides as the Talmud says, “Ein Somchin Al HaNes”  — we cannot and should not rely on miracles

It is up to us to be proactive in our lives, and to take the steps necessary for our self-defense and well-being.

Not everyone is suited or equipped to deal with every threat, whether it is physical, political, or cyber. But we must all be prepared to rise to the challenge and do whatever we can to play our part, no matter how small. We never know how things are going to work out, and we may be surprised by turns of events that we didn’t expect.

Yes, I hope for miracles — but I know one cannot rely on them.

The author is a writer and rabbi, currently based in New York.