We have all just heard the news of the U.S. bombing Iranian nuclear sites. Baruch Hashem! While the full extent of the damage is not yet known, the fact that it happened—and certainly caused extensive damage—is terrific! When all elements of an operation work together perfectly, it’s nothing short of miraculous.
Here in Eretz Yisrael, I am writing this article in between sirens. In our area, Beitar Illit—southwest of Yerushalayim—we’ve had several since the war with Iran began, though not as many as other areas. We’ve seen incredible miracles, and sadly, tragedies as well.
I’d like to draw from Parshas Korach to share an important and obvious point.
Korach and his followers were swallowed by the ground in a fascinating and terrifying miraculous event. The earth opened its mouth, swallowing Doson, Aviram, their families, households, and Korach’s family and belongings. (There’s a machlokes about whether Korach was both burned and swallowed or met a different fate.) Belongings located elsewhere came rolling toward the hole and were swallowed. Household members who weren’t present were pulled into a “slide”—definitely not the fun kind—and swallowed up. Bnei Yisrael fled the area in fear.
Why did they run? Moshe had told them exactly what would happen and to whom! The simple answer is that they didn’t know who or what was part of Korach’s household. As they saw people and items being pulled toward the hole, they panicked.
Also, most of Bnei Yisrael had been convinced by Korach’s arguments. When they saw what happened, they feared they might also be guilty by association.
Here’s a simple, but powerful, insight: sometimes we’re so familiar with a story that we forget to picture it accurately. Doing so can yield amazing understanding.
The camp of Bnei Yisrael was arranged as follows: the Mishkan was in the center, surrounded by the camp of the Leviim, with a distance of nearly 2,000 amos (about 4,000 feet) separating them from the rest of the nation. The tribes camped beyond them, three on each side.
Yehudah, Yissachar, and Zevulun were on the eastern side, opposite the Mishkan entrance, near the tents of Moshe and Aharon. These tribes were positively influenced by their proximity and produced many great talmidei chachamim.
On the southern side were Reuven, Shimon, and Gad—home to Doson and Aviram. The Leviim of Kehas, which included Korach, were also on that side. Chazal remark: oy l’rasha, oy l’scheino—woe to the wicked, and woe to his neighbor. The 250 leaders who joined Korach were mostly from Reuven, feeling slighted over losing the bechorah to the Kohanim.
Moshe instructed Korach and his 250 followers, each vying for the position of Kohen Gadol, to bring ketores and stand by the entrance of the Mishkan—the eastern side. Many came to observe. Meanwhile, Moshe made a final attempt to reconcile with Doson and Aviram, who remained in their tents on the southern side. They rejected his overture and insulted him.
Moshe then warned everyone to move away from the tents of Korach, Doson, and Aviram. Korach, known for his immense wealth, likely had multiple tents. Once aligned with Doson and Aviram, perhaps he moved his belongings closer to their camp. But at that moment, Korach himself was on the eastern side, near the Mishkan!
Picture the scene: Moshe issues his warning. Then, the earth opens. Commentators say there was one central opening—hence the “slides” from different areas. Doson, Aviram, and their families were swallowed. Korach’s family and belongings may have joined from afar, drawn into the hole. And Korach himself—after being consumed by fire with the 250 ketores bringers—slides from the eastern side all the way across the camp, to be swallowed as well.
What an incredible sight! No wonder Klal Yisrael was terrified. This was not a localized punishment—it touched the entire encampment and was visible to all.
I share this to highlight how revisiting familiar stories in detail can reveal powerful messages. Today, we too are witnessing incredible miracles, and it’s critical to notice them—and talk about them. Most importantly, we must consider what our response should be.
A friend shared the following: a missile once struck a building in Bat Yam, causing terrible destruction. Across the street was a gas station, owned by a ba’al teshuvah who began closing on Shabbos in recent years. The gas station was completely unharmed. Had the missile hit it—or even shrapnel—it could have been catastrophic.
Another friend’s sister lives in a small town north of Yerushalayim. A missile fragment the size of a bus fell—right between two buildings, in the only open area in the town!
In Pardes Katz, near Bnei Brak, a missile caused destruction and death. (One of my friend’s sisters lives there.) These older buildings rely on shared bomb shelters. The residents arranged to use the shelter in a nearby school, giving the key to someone named Reuven. When the siren blared, they ran to the school—but it was locked. They fled to other shelters just in time. The missile hit the school, destroying it. And Reuven? Of all nights, he had slept through the siren.
The ba’al teshuvah from Bat Yam is a former fighter pilot. His take on the Israeli Air Force’s success? “Unreal. Miraculous. Beyond nature.”
It’s easy to talk about what’s going wrong. But when so many events occur in ways that appear natural yet are anything but, we must speak about the chesed Hashem is doing for us—and thank Him. Thanking Him in detail builds our appreciation. That appreciation deepens our love for Hashem, as we realize just how much He gives us.
May we soon see the end of all suffering with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days.
