Jul 8/06 - Parashat Chukat/Balak

Parashat Korach: Blossoms

Commentary by Rabbi Alan Green

“But God was angry that Bilaam went, so a messenger of the Lord stationed himself in the way as an adversary against him. He was riding on his donkey and his two servants were with him. The donkey saw the messenger of the Lord standing in the way, sword in hand. So the donkey swerved from the road into the field.

“Bilaam hit the donkey to get it back onto the path. But the messenger of the Lord stood in the vineyard path with a wall on either side. The donkey saw the messenger of the Lord, so she squeezed toward the wall and smashed Bilaam’s foot into it. So, he hit her again.

“Again, the messenger of the Lord moved ahead and stood in a narrow place, so that this time, there was no place to move either to the right or the left. Thus when the donkey saw the messenger of the Lord, she lay down under him. Bilaam was furious and whacked the donkey with his staff.

“Then the Lord opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said, ‘What have I done to you, that you should hit me these three times?’ Bilaam replied, ‘How dare you mock me. If I had a sword, I’d kill you right here.’”

Numbers 22:22-29

The parable of Bilaam and his donkey is simultaneously humourous and serious. But before we discuss it further, some context. Balak, the king of Moab, has experienced a rude awakening. The Israelites, fresh from their victories over Sihon, King of the Amorites, Og, King of Bashan, are now seen as a threat to Moab.

Therefore, Balak decides to act against the Israelites. He sends emissaries to enlist the aid of Bilaam—a prophet for hire with a license to kill. Bilaam seeks God’s advice on this matter, and God clearly instructs him not to take on the job: “You must not curse that people, for they are blessed” (Numbers 22:12). Bilaam then sends Balak’s emissaries on their way.

But Balak is persistent. He sends another delegation, “more numerous and distinguished than the first” (verse 15). This time, they offer Bilaam an exceptionally generous fee, if only he will curse the Israelites. The fragrance of money proves to be too much for Bilaam. Even though God has already issued a clear “No”, Bilaam wishes to test the waters one more time.

Again, Bilaam consults God. God, sensing that Bilaam really wants to take on this mission, seems to relent—but with one important caveat: “Whatever I command you, that you must do” (verse 20). This now brings us to the beginning of our quote: “But God was angry that Bilaam went (with the Moabite dignitaries)”.

But why is God upset? Didn’t God give Bilaam permission to take this journey? The answer is, yes and no. Certainly, God allowed Bilaam to go with the Moabites. But had Bilaam been more like Abraham, or Moses—closer to the ideal of Jewish spiritual leadership—he would have realized that God’s offer wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. It was, in reality, a test that Bilaam would either pass or fail.

Abraham is confronted with something similar in Genesis 18:17, when God telegraphs His intent to destroy the sinful cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to Abraham. Abraham could have easily played the part of God’s “Yes-man,” and allowed Sodom and Gomorrah to be destroyed without comment. But that wasn’t Abraham’s way.

Abraham reacts to God’s plan with one of the most searing, powerful challenges in the whole of literature: “Will You sweep away the innocent along with the guilty … Shall the Judge of All the Earth not deal justly?” (verses 23 and 25).

This is in all likelihood precisely what God wanted Abraham to say. But the wonder of this dialog is that it happened at all. God knew the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah from the beginning. Thus it was unnecessary for God to say anything about his plans for to Abraham. Why then, did God choose to include Abraham in the planning process?

Apparently, God wished to give Abraham an opening to engage Him. In so doing, Abraham demonstrated for all the future generations of humanity how a highly developed sense of ethics often requires confrontation; and how even the Master of Creation Himself cannot be exempt from such confrontations.

Similarly, Bilaam. His first consult with God was the result of honest uncertainty over whether or not to take on Balak’s mission to curse the Israelites. However, Bilaam’s second consult, taking place after the possibility of a high fee was dangled before him, wasn’t nearly as free from ulterior motives.

God’s offer for Bilaam to go with the Moabites was, therefore, a test. Had Bilaam been an Abraham, or a Moses, he would have been able to discern the temptation factor, and avoid a second consult altogether. Or, having been tempted to initiate the second consult, an Abraham or Moses would have refused God’s offer. They would have seen it simply as God’s invitation to engage Him in the way that all ethically concerned individuals must confront one another in order to arrive at the truth.

But because Bilaam ducked this confrontation, and badly misread God’s real intent, God makes an “ass” out of Bilaam—literally, in the case of the parable of the donkey, and then figuratively, when Bilaam blesses the Israelites three times over later in the Parsha.

The difference between ducking an ethical opportunity and engaging in it may well be embodied by the most famous part of Bilaam’s blessings: “How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob; Your dwelling places, O Israel” (Numbers 24:5). “Jacob” was the schemer, the conniver who got ahead by stealing Esau’s birthright and tricking him out of his father’s blessing. “Israel” was the more mature, wise man that had struggled with man and God and prevailed.

As long as we avoid the proper exercise of our ethical sense, we are like “Jacob,” forced to live in the tattered tents of our mistakes and missed opportunities in life. But when we actively engage our sense of ethics, we elevate ourselves to the level of “Israel.” We then merit to live in “dwelling places” (MISH-K’NO-TE-CHA) shadowed by the SHECHINAH—the nourishing, harmonizing protection of the Divine Presence.

Shabbat Shalom.