Parshas Balak: The Real Evil

 Parshas Balak is, perhaps, the most narratively oriented parsha in Sefer Bamidbar. There are no sections of law nor any descriptions of ritual acts. There is the story of how Bilaam tried to curse the Jews, and, really, that is all.

 The story of Bilaam’s attempt to curse the Jews reverberates throughout history, just as the blessings that came out of his mouth continue to inspire and empower us. As with all of Torah, parshas Balak helps us understand the world a little better – and in this case that means learning more about the insidious nature of our enemies, of the people who hate Bnei Yisrael without even really knowing Bnei Yisrael.

 While reading Parshas Balak, it might be easy to assume the primary enemy of Israel is Bilaam. As wicked as he was, and as desirous as he was to curse Bnei Yisrael, Bilaam was a tool, a weapon…a proxy. Bilaam was the face of evil, but he was in his position because of a puppet master – Balak.

 Balak ben Tzipor’s name is mentioned over and over again in the Parsha, but mostly as he responds to Bilaam. Balak isn’t interesting. He doesn’t actively negotiate, he doesn’t talk to his she-donkey, and he doesn’t speak to Hashem. Nevertheless, the actual enemy  - the one who outrightly seeks to malign the Jews - is Balak ben Tzipor.

 In the year 5785/2025, we can all too well relate the idea of a hidden evil that works through proxies. Money is power. Balak used his wealth to entice Bilaam into action; Iran used their wealth to supply their proxies with weapons. And it didn’t matter how many times God said no or that the proxies were defeated, the enemy does not stop.

 Balak ben Tzipor is not introduced as the king of Moav. This information is only revealed in pasuk daled (4). Rather, the Parsha begins “Balak son of Tzipor saw all that Israel had done to the Amorites. Moab became terrified of the people, for they were numerous…” (Bamidbar 22:2-3). There is a man, and there is a people. The man saw that the Amorites had been defeated, and he chose to ignore the fact that the Amorites were the ones who attacked. Bnei Yisrael asked only for safe passage. They were attacked and then they were victorious, and to Balak that was not normal since the Amorites had been powerful enough to overtake parts of Moab. Balak the man saw that this small, wandering nation had defeated Sichon, and he inflamed his nation to fear.

 Balak ben Tzipor was afraid of Bnei Yisrael because he understood that this was beyond natural. Balak was, according to the Midrash, a sorcerer in his own right. Indeed, from his name it is deduced that his magic was connected to birds (Tzipor). Interestingly, in some cases of Biblical word play, it is acceptable to look at a word with a tzadi and read it as a samech, in which case tzipor (bird) becomes sipor – story.  Such a name transformation explains, perhaps, Bamidbar 22:4: “Moab said to the elders of Midian, ‘Now this assembly will devour everything around us, as the work-bull devours the greens of the field.’ Balak son of Tzipor was king of Moab at that time.” But Bnei Yisrael had not gathered on their border with the intention of attacking. They wanted safe passage. Neverthless, Balak ben Tzipor a man with no great strength, was afraid and built a story about these people.

 Balak fed his people a story, which increased their fear: “Moab dreaded the Israelites” (22:3). The Moabites took that fear and brought the story forward such that now the Israelites become devourers… and by the time Balak has sent his messengers to Bilaam, the Israelites are “a people that came out of Egypt; it hides the earth from view, and it is settled next to me” (22:5).

 According to this message, the Children of Israel seemed so numerous that they covered the world. No hyperbole there? The Torah states in 22:1, at the end of last week’s patsha, “The Israelites journeyed and camped in the plains of Moab, across the Jordan River from Jericho.”  They camped; they did not settle. They were on the plains, not covering all of the earth.

 Today, the Jewish population of the world today is 15.7 million out of 8 billion, and still there are rumors and tales that Jews control the world and are everywhere. Our enemy has, in the last 30 years, learned to weave tales and twist truth so that the goal of trying to destroy the Jewish people can continue. The enemy, like Balak, is willing to give away a fortune and to cultivate proxies, and even to bring in weapons of true destruction. In Balak’s case, Bilaam, was that weapon. Bilaam had the spiritual energy comparable to Moshe, so had his curses succeeded, had the real iron dome of Divine will, not interceded, the Jewish people would have been decimated.

 The narrative of Parshas Balak can seem mystical and mysterious and beyond 21^st century standards of what is normal (the talking donkey and all that), but in fact, it is all too familiar a narrative.  We must, therefore, take special care to notice what happens after Bilaam stops attacking the Israelites, for that is where we failed. When Bilaam stopped attacking the Israelites, he suggested taking down Bnei Yisrael on a moral level, which led to the terrible acts at Baal Peor. As we fight our enemies today, let us not forget who we are and what we stand for both during and after the battles that must be won.

 I wish you alla  beautiful and peace filled Shabbas.

Parshas Balak – Was Balaam Holy?

 Dedication: Please Hashem, guard our nation from strife both internal and external!

Today’s Dvar Torah will be loosely cited and may not lead to a conclusion. It is, in some ways, a thought experiment. Certainly, these thoughts are answered by many great Torah minds in depth, but it seems beneficial to bring them to the forefront.

One of the most frequently spoken about topics in Jewish life, and one of the essential concepts in Jewish life, is bitachon. Trusting in Hashem means trusting that He is constantly and absolutely in charge. It sounds simple; it isn’t.

Those who master bitachon never want. This is the premise of being a baal bitachon. This statement, however, leads to many questions, especially for those of us who are not masters in our own bitachon. We’ve seen impoverished tzadikkim and incredible Torah teachers struck by terrible illnesses, which lead us to the question of – well if that’s never wanting, what will be for me!

It isn’t simple. In the sefer “Becoming a Ba’al Bitachon,” Rabbi Yechezkel Abramov, discuss the different understandings of this idea and spends time examining the opinion that Hashem gives baal bitachon the outcome they seek verses a baal bitachon sees in every outcome that Hashem has provided that which was best. Interestingly, these two ideas are critically important in this week’s parsha.

In parshas Balak, the Torah introduces Balaam. Balaam is considered the equal of Moshe in his ability to recognize Hashem in the world. He is the prophet of the nations, a balance to Moshe’s greatness.

Balaam fully recognized Hashem’s constant hand in this world so much that he received direct responses, which makes him far greater in bitachon than most people. Balak came to him because up until this point, Balaam had a magnificent record of having his requests fulfilled. One could even wonder if Balaam’s absolute faith that what he requested would be given made him a baal bitachon, equal to those whom we revere as tzaddikim.

 

On the other hand, when Balaam actually stood to pronounce curses upon the Nation of Israel, what came out were blessings. Hashem answered Balaam's prayers; He just answered them in the way that was best for the world and therefore best for Balaam. 

 

It is fascinating, when you read the parsha, to notice how calmly Balaam seems to react to each curse turned blessing. And when Balak rages at him, he says: “But I even told the messengers you sent to me, say ‘If Balak gives me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot transgress the word of the Lord to do either good or evil on my own; only what the Lord speaks can I speak” (24:12-13).

 

Balaam really does come across as a baal habitachon. And that leads to further questions. What does it mean  thatBalaam is a smarmy person who accepts money to curse a nation and later plots for the moral dissolution of the Israelite men? What does it mean that he is seen as a prophet by other nations and that a wicked king seeks him out in particular.

 

It means that Balaam was not a baal bitachon because while Balaam recognized that Hashem was the Master of the Universe and the One in charge, he felt no need to accept a moral code upon himself. Indeed, from his choices at the end of the parsha when he advices that the Midianite women go out to seduce the men of Israel, one can almost see an underlying defiance of the yoke of shemayim, one can sense a desire to find a work-around to the path Hashem has set for the world.

 

One of the most acknowledged facts about the Torah is that its “heros,” for lack of a better word, are human. They have flaws. So too, the “villains,” for lack of a better word,” have middos that we can emulate. Esav is renowned for kibbud av, Lot understood hachnassas orchim, and Balaam had bitachon. We look at people and too often we judge them only for their weaknesses and deficits rather than that which is good. This week, as we head into the three weeks when we mourn so much tragedy that has happened, let us look for the good in others and remember the importance of bitachon in our everyday lives.

 

Shabbat Shalom

Parshas Balak - Maintaining Bechira

Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Leya Nechama bas Shulamit

Parshas Balak is a rather strange portion of the Torah. Not only does the Torah present a non-Israelite who appears to have a level of intimacy with Hashem that, until now, has seemed unique to Bnei Yisrael – indeed to Moshe in particular - but there is also a talking donkey and an angel with a sword. These attributes, however, are not what make Parshas Balak so confounding. The most perplexing aspects of Parshas Balak are the seemingly contradictory messages that, when examined closely, illustrate the ever-present tension of bechira (free-will) and the Divine hand in the world, and how important that tension is to the Divine Plan for life.

For those unfamiliar with the narrative, Balaam, a non-Israelite “prophet” whose spiritual connection matched that of Moshe, was asked by King Balak of Moav to curse the Israelites. He tells the emissaries of Moav that he can do nothing without Hashem’s approval, and, when he seeks that approval, he is told no rather firmly (22:12). Balaam sends the messengers home, but Balak sends more emissaries, offers greater reward. So Balaam once again requests to do this task for Balak, and “God came to Balaam at night and said to him, ‘If these men have come to call for you, arise and go with them, but the word I speak to you-that you shall do’" (Bamidbar 22:20).

No hesitation. No mulling over the words. Balaam wakes in the morning, saddles his she-donkey, and heads to Balak. And this angers God greatly. But, it seems necessary to ask: Didn’t Hashem give Balaam permission to go with these men, and, if so, how can Hashem be angry at him?

 Obviously, Balaam missed the tone of the permission, but one doesn’t want to think of Hashem being “Passive-Aggressive.” Indeed, that is not the point at all. Hashem gave him permission to go, but Hashem also provided Him with the framework to make the right choice, to choose to follow the path already set out for him at the very outset. It was, one might presume, obvious to Hashem that Balaam had already determined the course of his actions, and the only way to stop him would have been to alter his will.

 Having free will means that one has the ability to ignore the very obvious proper path; one has the freedom to make bad choices (even over and over and over).  Of course, having the freedom to choose the divergent path does not mean that there are no consequences to those choices. There are, indeed, consequences. The Children of Israel chose to listen to the report of the scouts and believe ill of the Promised Land; Hashem let them react, let them be fearful and angry…but their reaction meant that they could not enter the land immediately, that they were not ready.

 On his journey to meet with King Balak, Balaam’s she-ass sees an angel with a sword and balks.  Balaam gets angry with the ass and eventually strikes it; at which point both the she-ass and the angel speak to him. In this moment, Balaam is facing a higher level of communication than almost anyone in the Torah does. He is being prevented with a direct message of displeasure from Hashem, and yet he still has the choice to ignore it.

 Significantly, as noted by Rashi citing the Midrash Tanchuma, the fact that Balaam did not see the angel in the first place was a message to him of his decreasing ability to connect to the spiritual world. Balaam, however, does not acknowledge this shift in himself. He sees himself still as the powerful-“prophet.” He recognizes that he should have seen the angel, not that he was unable to see the angel, and therefore responds: “I have sinned, for I did not know that you were standing on the road before me. Now, if it displeases you, I will return” (22:34). The conclusion of this pasuk is also loaded with significance. Balaam, according to the commentators, is implying that the angel would be displeased, that the angel would want him to turn back, and, in so doing, is asking the angel if he is contradicting the permission Balaam feels he has already received from Hashem.

 (One can almost feel the angel shaking its head in despair at the man’s stubbornness.)

 When the angel tells Balaam to go with the men, it is, as Rashi notes quoting Maseches Makkos 10b: “On that road that a man is resolved to go, he is allowed to go.”

 Hashem does not want to directly intervene in a person’s free will. This is why we don’t see open, grandiose miracles on a regular basis. Witnessing or being part of direct Divine intervention reduces one’s ability to function with bechira, and perhaps this is why Hashem became angry when Balaam proceeded on the path after the emissaries returned. He didn’t want to have to interfere.

 Hashem directly removing or limiting a person’s bechira happens even less frequently than open miracles. He warned Balaam not to set out on this path, and still Balaam made his own choices.

 By the time Balaam reached Balak, he had been well-warned that his words would not be his own, should he choose to curse the Israelites. But Balaam also believed that he had twice evaded following Hashem’s will, and so, perhaps, when he told Balak that “I can utter only the word that God puts into my mouth” (22:37), he believed that this too he would be able to talk his way out of.

 And thus we come to the actual act of blessing the Israelites when he intended to curse them. Was this not a direct dissolution of Balaam’s bechira? Hashem literally put words in his mouth! But Balaam had been warned; he had been told what would happen and so it was not a limitation of his bechira – it was a consequence of his choice of action.

 Balaam was an evil, stubborn, and arrogant man, but Balaam’s actions provide us with an important reminder about the world Hashem created. Every person has free will. Every person has the power to make choices in their lives. Hashem can provide startlingly direct messages, and we still have the ability to make the wrong choice. It is not just part of being human; it is an essential aspect of fulfilling our roles in olam hazeh.

Parshas Balak: Unsaid Words

There has been a great deal of ink shared over the last many years about the dissolution of language, about how texting has degraded the language of the current generations. Whatever changes technology has wrought, one basic fact does not change, and that fact is the importance of clear communications. When left to one’s own interpretation, the words that are said or heard are often just as significant as the words that are unsaid and unheard.

Parshas Balak relates the events that occurred as Bnei Yisrael skirted the border of the Promised Land. King Balak, worried that Bnei Yisrael would displace him, sent messengers to Bilaam, who was a man blessed with prophecy and a unique relationship to Hashem. Balak wanted Bilaam to curse the Israelites, which Bilaam agreed to do but… In Parshas Balak things go slightly wrong throughout the narrative (he ends up blessing Bnei Yisrael), and one cannot help but reflect on the significance of the communication. Let us look at a few of the missed messages.

While the opening verses make it clear that Balak knows exactly who is at his border, when he sends his messengers to Bilaam he appears to deliberately avoid naming the nation. Balak refers to the Israelites as “a people come out of Egypt” (Bamidbar 22:5). In so doing, in leaving their name unsaid, Balak is attempting to diminish their might in the eyes of Bilaam. They are not a nation blessed by Divine guidance, they are merely a people that came out of Egypt (which, while no small feat on its own, negates acknowledging how they came out of Egypt, the splitting of the Sea, Mount Sinai, and etc). In choosing to ignore these important defining moments of the nation, Balak chooses the path of “that which shall not be named”; if I do not say it, it is not real.

It is interesting to note that this verbal diminishing of Bnei Yisrael continues subtly in Balak’s second request. His envoys conclude their message to Bilaam by asking him to “curse me this people,” whereas when Hashem responded to Bilaam’s first request, Hashem referes to Bnei Yisrael as The People. (Bamidbar 22:17, 22:12). "This" and "the" seem like insignificant differences, and yet it has a subtle nuance. By referring to Bnei Yisrael as The People, Hashem is making it clear to Bilaam that He has elevated the Israelites to a unique status. There is no other Am like Am Yisrael.

Whereas Balak makes a choice not to name Bnei Yisrael, Bilaam makes a choice not to understand Hashem’s response, which is strange since in the basic text it seems very clear what Hashem does not want Bilaam to do. Hashem says to him: “You shall not go with them; You shall not curse the people; for they are blessed” (22:12). Bilaam chooses not to hear this as a definite statement (although I am not sure how one can see it as anything else) and comes back to Hashem to ask again. He hears no danger in Hashem’s response “If these men have come to invite you, you may go with them. But whatever I command you, that you shall do” (22:20). Any parent clearly hears the classic line of “Fine, but if you break your leg do not complain to me!” Bilaam does go, but his attempts to curse the people go completely sideways and he blesses them instead.

The sad truth is that human beings have been deliberately miscommunicating with each other since time immemorial (since Adam and Chava, truth be told). It is a way for us to try to take control in our lives. Balak wanted to believe that Bnei Yisrael were just a nation. Bilaam wanted to hear that he had permission to go and curse Bnei Yisrael. What we can learn from Balak and Bilaam and this Parsha in general, however, is that just because we choose to reframe our communication to the way we want the world to be, this does not change how Hashem wants it to be. It is, alas, no easy task to let go of that level of control and recognize that Hashem put us in every place, every situation, and every interaction. Each of us may say that X or Y is not what we want, but that choice is not always ours. Only when we see reality, see the Divine hand in our lives, can we begin to discover a different path because then we can address the true source of our challenges and receive help from the ultimate source.

I would like to point out an additional thought. Parshas Balak contains the strange piece of Bilaam’s talking donkey. As he head towards Bnei Yisrael, a fiery angel blocks his path, but only the donkey can see it. She stops. She pushes against the wall, hurting Bilaam in the process of trying to protect herself and her rider. Bilaam responds by hitting her and trying to force her forward. Finally, the donkey speaks! She asks Bilaam why he is hitting her when she has always served him so faithfully. In a discussion of Parshas Balak and straight communication, could not one ask why the donkey did not say “Don't you see the fiery angel before us?” to explain her behavior? However, in this case, the fact that there is a fiery angel before her is irrelevant. She has been faithful to him throughout his ownership. And yet at this first prostration of a task, he beats her. The language here does not matter because her behavior is another form of communication that we all too often overlook - the gut senses that Hashem sends us. Hashem wants us to make the right choices. If we see the fiery angel, we no longer have the same choices. Hashem will not tell us what to do - that’s free will - but he does try to guide us. Our job, however, is to listen and perceive.

Bad Choice Warning System (Balak)

I had a not very profound thought as I was reading this week’s parsha, Parashat Balak. Here it is: I want a donkey like Balaam’s donkey!

Ok I don’t really want a donkey – I don’t think Outremont, my municipality within Montreal, would allow that sort of pet. But I would certainly love an app like Balaam’s donkey. It could be known as a bad choice early warning detection system. Let’s be honest, most of us spend at least some time in our lives thinking about whether certain events are meant to be a message. Late for that flight that seemed critical ... maybe it's a message that God doesn’t want me at that meeting or maybe it’s a sign that I need to learn better time management…hmmm. But really, what most people want is for a direct sign, something obvious and in-your-face. Like Balaam’s talking donkey.

It is easy to read the parsha and wonder why Balaam was so oblivious? (It’s so good to be the reader and know things he doesn’t know!) God had made it pretty clear that He wasn’t terribly supportive of Balaam’s new employer and the job for which he was hired. When the donkey strayed from her path not once, but multiple times, perhaps something should have clicked in Balaam’s mind. But really, it is human nature to ignore things we don’t want to be true, to turn away from things that appear to be leading us away from our self-defined goals.

Balaam’s talking donkey has always been a rather perplexing set of verses. Blasphemous as it may sound, it reads like a children’s story since, duh, animals don’t talk. The snake in Bereishis ... ok, that was way back at the beginning of the world, but by Balaam’s time the distinction between talking humans and animals was pretty clear. And since God is omniscient, why would He want this little section recorded in this way, knowing, as He must, that such fable-like verses could be used to scorn the Torah in an age where faith is often under fire?

Since there must be a lesson to take from the inclusion of Balaam’s talking donkey, perhaps what we can learn here are two sides of the same coin. Don’t be a Balaam and get angry at the messenger rather than absorb the message. And, at the same time, be a donkey and try to say something if you worry that a friend is involved in something that is certain to lead to their inevitable downfall.

For all that Balaam refused to turn away from the task of cursing Bnei Yisrael, even when Divine deterants were thrown at him, he failed in his mission. The path that God wants will always prevail, it just becomes a question of the cost to those who go with His flow or those who go with their own.