War and Peace: What Aaron’s Staff Can Teach Us After the Twelve-Day War©

Parashat Korach 2025/5785

Rabbi David Baum, Congregation Shaarei Kodesh

Let’s say you experience a miracle. Do you think you would recognize it as a miracle right away? How long do you think it would take? 

For many Jews, this week saw the completion of a miracle: the end of the Twelve-Day War between the U.S. and Israel against Iran. 

Journalist Amit Segal said the following on the Call Me Back Podcast about the miracle he perceived: 

“The miracle that occurred in just 12 days, saving the Jewish state from the most severe threat ever posed since its establishment in 1948, is truly remarkable. The fact that a fundamentalist regime almost possessed a nuclear weapon aimed at Israel became even more horrifying when you consider the actions they took over the past 12 days with their ballistic missiles. Imagine what they might have done had they possessed weapons of mass destruction. Imagine if they had nuclear weapons.” 

Although all the facts are not yet in, it is clear that Iran has been set back significantly from their pursuit of a nuclear bomb that would be used to threaten or annihilate the only Jewish state in the world. Their leadership is decimated, their people are angry at the failed leadership of Iran, and they are defenseless from the air. 

For many Israelis and Jews around the world, it is hard not to look at this war as the sequel to the Six-Day War, a miraculous military victory. But if we are living in the aftermath of a miracle, we have to ask ourselves, what kind of miracle was it, and what does it demand of us?

There are a lot of ‘miraculous' moments in the Torah that transcend nature, and in this week’s parashah, we have a number of ‘miraculous’ moments, but rather than focus on the one that you may be thinking about in Parashat Korach, mainly, a hole appearing out of nowhere swallowing up the rebel Korach and his gang, I wanted to focus on another miracle - the miracle of Aaron the High Priest’s Staff. 

The miracle comes right after the failed rebellion by Korach, Datan and Aviram, and others, where the earth swallowed up 250 people, and a plague kills another 14,700 people. 

During the plague, Moses requested the heads of the tribes to provide twelve staffs, including Aaron’s. Moses placed the staffs in the Tent of the Pact, the Ohel HaEidut. The next day, Moses entered the tent and discovered that Aaron’s staff had come to life! 

 “The staff of Aaron of the house of Levi had sprouted: it had brought forth sprouts, produced blossoms, and borne almonds” (Numbers 17:23).

It was meant to be a sign to the people: Aaron was the true representative of God, but there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to Aaron’s staff as it has a history that goes beyond this moment. 

In Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of Our Fathers, we learn that Aaron’s staff was one of the ten things created in the twilight between the sixth day and the Sabbath. Another Midrash states: “That same staff was held in the hand of every king until the Temple was destroyed, and then it was divinely hidden away. That same staff also is destined to be held in the hand of the Messiah.” 

As we learn here, not all staffs are created equal, and Aaron’s staff is special. We also learn that it is timeless—it exists throughout the ages, and even though it is lost to us today, it will be held by the Messiah when all sorts of miraculous events will happen, like lambs and wolves playing together. 

What are the miracles in this staff that can help us today? 

First, let’s look at what the staff produced—almonds—and what was happening at the time in the parashah. After the Korach episode, a plague comes and kills 14,700 people. The people are deeply divided after a civil war. The fighting is over, but the war, in the sense of the enmity that people feel for one another, is still raging. 

The end of war did not mean that peace would inevitably come. Coming to peace is harder than fighting a war. 

In Itturei Torah, compiled by Rabbi Aharon Yaakov Greenberg, a story is told about Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Kook, the father of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, and his view on how to bring peace to a divided community. 

Rabbi Kook was sent abroad as an emissary and arrived at a synagogue embroiled in a bitter dispute between the congregants and the gabbai (synagogue official). Known as a great Torah scholar from the Holy Land, Rabbi Kook was welcomed warmly. The community asked him to serve as a “messenger of peace” and help resolve the conflict. He agreed and ascended the podium to deliver a sermon.

In his sermon, Rabbi Kook referenced the biblical rebellion of Korach and posed a question: Why did Aaron’s staff blossom specifically with almonds? Why not another fruit?

He explained that this detail offers insight into the nature of conflict and peace. There are two types of almonds: one that is sweet at first but turns bitter, and another that is bitter at first but becomes sweet. 

So it is with human strife and reconciliation.

Conflict, Rabbi Kook taught, often feels sweet at the outset—there’s a certain satisfaction in standing one’s ground, in fighting for what one believes is right. But that sweetness turns bitter over time as divisions deepen and relationships fray.

Peace, on the other hand, is bitter at the beginning. It is difficult to yield, to suppress the urge to “win” or be right. Yet if one is able to overcome that initial resistance and make even a small concession for the sake of harmony, the result is lasting sweetness and healing for all.

Rav Shlomo Zalman Kook’s words touched the hearts of everyone who listened, and he was able to bring peace to the congregation.

Rav Kook brings up an interesting point; conflict is seemingly easier than peace. Think about how Korach’s opponents felt when they saw him and his fellow rebels be swallowed up by the earth? But in reality, and even in the Torah, after war, you have to live with your enemies. 

In the Psalms, we read about the Bnai Korach, the children of Korach. To the rabbis, it is evidence that not all of Korach’s family was swallowed up. There were still some that they had to live with. 

In 2022, a Right-wing government coalition member, Deputy Religious Affairs Minister Matan Kahana, made some news when he commented on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and how he didn’t believe peace with the Palestinians is possible in the near future, and that the sides will remain deadlocked. Things have only become more difficult since then. His quote:  “If there were a button you could press that would make all the Arabs disappear, that would send them on an express train to Switzerland — may they live amazing lives there, I wish them all the best in the world — I would press that button. There is no such button. Apparently, we were destined to exist here [together] on this land in some form.”

He made news because of the seeming cruelty of the button, but it was newsworthy on another level. A right-wing Israeli politician publicly came to terms with a reality: Israel has to share the land in some way. Our enemies today are not going anywhere. 

We often think that when our ‘enemies’ are defeated, they just disappear. Even in the case of Korach, Datan and Aviram, even after 250 of them swallowed up in a hole, we know that Korach has descendants that are quoted in Psalms. 

Rabbi Kook’s story goes against everything we know: we have to fight until the end; there is no surrender unless it is unconditional. But just as wars are fought, peace must also be created. 

This brings me to the second miracle of Aaron’s staff. 

The staff went through the process of blossoming, beginning with budding, producing flowers, and providing fruit, in this case, almonds, all at once. 

This miracle, and the almonds it produced, got me thinking about the Jewish people. 

Throughout our history, people have counted us out, said that we were like a dead stick, and yet, like Aaron’s staff, we miraculously blossomed. There is no greater example in our times than the Holocaust and the subsequent establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. 

The state was founded in a war, but I think deep down, the founders of Israel wished it had been created in peace. 

It is this staff that we must hold; the staff of the pursuer of peace, Aaron, not Korach, the selfish demagogue who radicalized his followers and led them to their deaths. 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote: “The episode of Korach teaches us that there are two ways of resolving conflict: by force and by persuasion. The first negates your opponent. The second enlists your opponent, taking his / her challenge seriously and addressing it. Force never ends conflict – not even in the case of Moses, not even when the force is miraculous. There never was a more decisive intervention than the miracle that swallowed up Korach and his fellow rebels. Yet it did not end the conflict. It deepened it. After it had taken place, the whole Israelite community – the ones that had not been part of the rebellion – complained, “You have killed the Lord’s people.”

In the case of the Iranian regime, I don’t think there is much to discuss, but I wonder if there are other voices in the Middle East that we can be open to listening to to bring peace. Israel is still at war, the hostages are still being held in Gaza, but at some point, the end of the war will come, and the more difficult work of peace will begin. For those days, we will need different tools. 

Instead of spears, we will need staffs. In a world where we think the only tool we have is a hammer, because everything looks like a nail, let us remember the lessons of Aaron’s miraculous staff and how it can inspire miracles, especially in our time.