What is the nature of friendship?
Surely, we all know, since we have friends. Yet, it is not the easiest question to answer. We know that we have friends and we know that we are friends; yet, what exactly does that mean? Does it mean we must help each other move houses? Are we not friends if we would not? Does it mean we have to like the same movies? That can’t be right, yet so many friendships are arranged around the enjoyment of similar things. Is that it? Can two work colleagues who enjoy each other but not the same things be said to not be friends? That too cannot be right.
Aristotle gives perhaps the most famous meditation on friendship in the history of the west in his Nichomachean Ethics (8:3). He writes some things that we probably would have ourselves said if pressed about the question: friends are pleasant to one another; they are interested in the wellbeing of their companions for unselfish reasons; they remain interested in one another for long periods of time and are not, as they say, “fair weather” friends. He adds some ideas that will be surprising to the modern mind, though they should should not surprise readers of Aristotle: friends are virtuous and the ideal friendship is the one that is organized around a shared goal.
It is this last idea that is most surprising, I think. Can we not just be friends without it having to “be” about something else? Why must there be a goal? In truth, I think a bird’s eye view suggests that this is a uniquely contemporary idea. In our own time and place, people need not have particular goals, a direction, or something they are trying to accomplish in life. Rather, they may justify themselves to others with the declaration that certain people or activities make them happy or are healthy for them. This is not a form of justification that would have made much sense outside of small circles for most of Western history. So, in the modern period, the French sought freedom, Enlightenment thinkers sought truth, the Germans sought glory, and so on. Earlier in time, the Spanish sought religious redemption, the Romans to rule, and the Jews, if we may be thought of as Western at all, to make a covenantal relationship with G-d. Everyone had something that they worked for.
Indeed, even in our most prosaic day-to-day interactions and friendships, we usually gather together for “something,” even if it just to have a good time at a meal, a concert, or a dinner party. We typically spend time with people who want something that we want.
Though we do not often seem to see it this way, this kind of friendship is a major theme of our parsha. For instance, Datan and Aviram seem to be friends, working together toward some kind of political goal that they share. Indeed, the Sages pair them together much like Frog and Toad, though they are not exactly so kind or loving to one another. In contrast, Datan and Aviram can be said not only not to be friends to Moshe Rabbenu but even to Korach and his group. Korach apparently wishes to be made kohen gadol; Datan and Aviram do not share this goal and it is unclear how much they care about it. Thus, Moshe wrangles with the group of Levites who wish to be made kohen gadol in the parsha, warning them that this is unwise. Datan and Aviram, who seemingly were on the scene moments ago, demonstrate their disinterest by leaving, and Moshe must send a messenger to meet with them. Though Datan, Aviram, and Korach are allies of a sort, they cannot be said to truly be friends.
Famously, Korach and his group are not really friends either, by this definition. He and the 250 men vie for Aharon’s job. They cannot all do it and they are well aware of this. Rather, they gather together briefly while holding in mind and heart the goal and desire to discard their erstwhile allies as soon as they are done. Thus, as Nechama Leibowitz points out, the Sages explain that “an argument that is not for the sake of heaven – this is Korach and his group.” The context in the Mishnah is confusing. Take it as a whole:
An argument for the sake of Heaven – this is Hillel and Shammai.
An argument that is not for the sake of Heaven – this is Korach and his group.
We would think that the formulation of the second phrase would follow the second one. Just as Hillel fought with Shammai, Korach should be paired with Moshe or Aharon. Yet, he is paired with his group. Why is this so? Because, Leibowitz explains, Korach and his group were fighting with each other at the same time that they were fighting with Moshe and Aharon.
The last person of note is On ben Pelet. While he is mentioned as a leader of this rebellion along with Korach, Datan, and Aviram, he quickly disappears from the narrative, never to be heard from again. The Sages suggest that his wife helped him out of his commitments to this group, either with his cooperation or by working around him and forcing the issue. At any rate, On is no true friend to his peers; his wife is, however, a friend to him.
In contrast, Moshe and Aharon are friends, sharing a concern with social and personal virtue and outcomes, and even G-d is their friend, coming to their defense in their time of need or peril:
Korah assembled all the congregation against them to the door of the Tent of Meeting: and the glory of Hashem appeared to all the congregation.
It would appear that G-d is coming to the defense of His friends in their time of need. He prevents them from falling into harm’s way.
Friendship is not a frivolous thing. Aristotle is not a Jewish Sage, yet I think he has brought something important to our attention. We should begin to assimilate this idea into our lives: our friendships are about more than pleasantness and enjoyment; they are about common goals.
I think this idea will do two important things for us. First, it will allow us to unlock new depths in our relationships. We have good friends already. But if we can come together to do something new together – to improve the welfare of our shul and community, to stand up for the Jewish people, to give charity or help people with their economic wellbeing – then we strengthen our relationships and give them more complexity, virtue, and color. All in all, this should lead to a more pleasant and meaningful life for all of us who choose this path.
Second, we ourselves will become more pleasant and meaningful as people. In general, this falls under the category of vehalachta b’drachav, to walk in the ways of G-d, as the Rambam describes it in Hilchot De’ot. Of course, this is something we all want. We all wish to be better version of ourselves and to feel good about our moral trajectories in life. As we read this parsha, let us take the opportunity to not only enjoy better friendships but to use that as an opportunity to deepen our relationships and ourselves.
