Balak

Parshat Balak: From the Mouth of the Donkey

By Rabbi Janet Madden, PhD

In modern usage, “donkey” is a pejorative term for an obdurate person. But stubbornness is only one attribute of donkeys. Genetically designed to browse desert scrub, donkeys have been used as beasts of burden for millennia. Our Biblical ancestors prized their strength and endurance, understanding that donkeys’ strong legs, characteristic bray and willingness to stand their ground made them effective guardians for sheep and cattle pastured with them. And, throughout the Tanach, as in Parshat Balak, sure-footed donkeys carry humans, including kings and prophets, on their physical and spiritual journeys.

According to Pesachim 54a:17 and Pirke Avot 5:6, among the phenomena that the Living Presence created in the liminal twilight of the first erev Shabbat were three mouths: the mouth of the earth, the mouth of the well and the mouth of the donkey of Parshat Balak.

The symbolism of the mouth–an organ of reception and expression connected to the element of air through the invisible process of producing oral resonance–highlights the significance of these more-than-human mouths. Formed in anticipation of their eventual deployment, appearing to humans as supernatural occurrences, each expression of divinely-endowed power is released through the relevant mouth at the called-for moment.

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai taught that the mystical quality of the “mouth of the donkey” refers to the concealed power of the feminine. The power is revealed in Balak’s central narrative, the struggle between the power of the athon, the female donkey, and the power of Bilam, her rider, sent to use his mouth to destroy Israel. He, the patriarchal prophet, is so attentive to his task that he is oblivious to what stands before him: the sword-wielding angel. She, part of the more-than-human world, is sensitively attuned to the angel and its message. The athon is spiritually perceptive, seeing what the human she carries cannot see, expressing herself through righteous actions. He beats her–ironically–for her attempts to protect him. Finally, unable to avoid or evade the angel, she lies down in the road, an act equivalent to human prostration, an act that forces him acknowledge that he is no match for her.

What Bilam stereotypically perceives as stubborn refusal is in fact the demonstration that the athon is in spiritual right relationship with the malach and the message that it brings: that Bilam must not succeed in his mission of destroying Israel through curses. When the Divine opens the athon’s mouth, her declaration of loyalty is the catalyst for the opening of Bilam’s eyes to reality.

The power of the feminine appears in full expression in the athon’s response to Bilkam’s repeated failures of perception. In the rendition of verbal exchange between the athon and Bilham that appears in Midrash Tanhuma Balak, Bilham threatens the athon. “‘…you have revolted against me. Were I in possession of a sword in my hand, I would kill you right here and now.’ She responds: ‘You can’t kill me unless you have a sword in your hand? Well then, how do you propose to destroy an entire nation with just your tongue?’ Bilam was silent.”

The athon speaks prophetically to the prophet who twice fails in his mission to curse Israel. Finally, as Divinely ordained, and in spite of himself, he blesses Israel in human terms: “Mah Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov Mishkenotecha Yisrael,” a blessing that we repeat in our daily Shacharit liturgy.

And the athon? As the representative of the more-than-human world, she continues sees the bigger picture. As recorded in Perek Shira 5:8, the Donkey says: “Yours, YudHeyVavHey, is the greatness, and the might, and the splendor, and the victory, and the glory, for everything in the Heavens and earth [is yours]; Yours, YudHeyVavHey, is the kingship, and the exaltation over all.”

Shabbat Shalom.

Parshat Chukat-Balak

By Rabbi Rochelle Robins, Vice-President and Academic Dean of the Chaplaincy & Rabbinical Schools

The Donkey As Comedian: Let’s Have the Donkey Do It

There are several kinds of stories, but only one difficult kind—the humorous kind. I will talk mainly about that one. — Mark Twain, “How to Tell a Story”.

Exploring the sacred in Torah and respecting its gravity and seriousness might mean we occasionally miss ironies. As we seek depth and values, could there be missed successful and poor attempts at humor, mockery, sarcasm, and satire? These first two sentences are leading. You may now expect a stand-up routine on Parshat Balak. However, trying to be funny does not manifest in good results for all of us. Any humor perceived here will only culminate from your, the reader’s, ingenuity.

One of our graduates, Chaplain Dina Kuperstock, recently mentioned that she respects comedic talent because it is so difficult to create. Chaplain Kuperstock said, “Stand-up comedy is indeed my favorite art form because it’s such a tightrope. It is definitely the hardest to get right. To first observe and then publicly comment on a truth – no matter how awkward or painful – and to make people laugh and appreciate it in response. It takes extreme skill, precision, and courage.”

Comedy captures individual and collective pain among other complexities of the human condition. It is most often about people. There is much less to joke about when looking at a mountain or a tree. In addition, creating true social commentary with  humor in its various forms can be risky; and it is not always funny. It is easier to have a donkey do it.

Children and adults find giddy humor in the telling of Balaam’s talking donkey in this section of the Torah. On his journey to curse Israel in the presence of Balak, the leader of the Moabites, Balaam strikes the donkey, enraged that she will not obey his command to follow the road. Instead, she strays into a field. What Balaam cannot see is something the donkey can – an angel sent from God is causing an obstruction in the roadway and there is nowhere for the donkey to turn without pressing Balaam against a wall. Finally, she crouches down beneath the non-Israelite prophet and he continues to hit her so that she will follow his command. She reminds him of her loyalty to him throughout his life by asking him, “Am I not your donkey?” She also inquires with him if she has ever acted this way before. “Am I not your she-donkey that you have ridden all along until this day? Have I been in the habit of doing this to you?” He answers, “No,” and then Balaam sees the angel with a sword in his hand and prostrates himself on his face before it. The prophet now sees what the donkey saw all along. Why does the donkey possess more forewarning vision than the prophet does at this moment?

Talmud, Sanhedrin 105b takes the donkey’s comments even farther:

The donkey said to him: “Am I not your donkey” (Numbers 22:30)? Balaam replied: Merely for burdens, for carrying. The donkey replied: “Upon which you have ridden” (Numbers 22:30). Balaam responded to the donkey: That was mere happenstance and is not a common occurrence. The donkey said to him: “Your whole life until this day” (Numbers 22:30).

Thus, the donkey seems to imply that Balaam’s self-perception is built on idiosyncrasy, fluke, or dishonesty rather than on a foundation of solid reality. The donkey’s sarcasm is entertaining, risky, and offers the insight that a mere a pack animal is able to see and comment on.

Towards the end of the parsha, Balaam is unable to curse the Israelites in Balak’s presence or at all. God instead puts three blessings of affirmation in his mouth. If only the story ended here…

Settling in the land of Shittim, the Israelites surrender to the gods of the Moabites and their sexual temptations. Clearly, Balaam’s blessings were not sustainable. His name in Hebrew means ‘destroyer of people,’ after all.

And if only this were the conclusion as well… Pinchas, Aaron’s grandson, responds with zealotry against an Israelite man and his consorting Midianite woman by piercing them with a spear, thus murdering them both for sexual relations. God affirms the vengeance of Pinchas and Pinchas’ violent action is held responsible for suspending a plague that beforehand killed twenty-four thousand Israelites. His murderous zealotry assuaged God. Next week’s parsha is called Pinchas and in it, God enters him into the covenant of the priesthood in gratitude.

Is there anything funny going on here? Perhaps there is a lens of humor in biblical literature that is ample and simply not in accordance with our knowledge or ability to see it – a kind of Chaucerian biblical hidden layer of slapstick, violent, and zealous themes. Perhaps it is funny that the donkey is possibly the most admirable seer and visionary in the text. She is a victim of the Baalams and Pinchases surrounding her and sees the ironies, hypocrisies, and pains in her world. Our nameless she-donkey is witty and funny enough to capture the hearts and the minds of the generations. The trick perhaps is to risk our own social comedy. If we wait for a donkey to do it, our humor may be long overdue.

A Few More Donkey Thoughts:

In reviewing donkey profiles in movies, comedy, literature, and even personality theories, they are often portrayed as funny, fun-loving, kind, loveable, loyal, and affectionate. The movies Shrek and The Banshees of Inisherin are examples. But the donkey also gets a bad rap in media and literature, where they are sometimes portrayed as unintelligent, undependable, a symbol of poverty, human shame, and humiliation. How might we get to know the donkey for its own sake? Zechariah 9:9 states that a king will humbly arrive mounted on a donkey. Some Jews believe the king referred to in this text is the Mashiach, which is a lot of pressure on any non-human or human animal.

If you are interested in a donkeyesque (a real word that means something slightly different) oxytocin experience, please watch this video:

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/mjsc_cwatJM

Parshat Balak

The Power of Humility”
By Rabbi Janet Madden, Ph.D., ‘11

Humans often refer to donkeys as the epitome of foolishness or stubbornness. But in cultures that are reliant on its help and support for human labor that is necessary to sustain life, donkeys are no joke.

Millennia before the appearance of such characters as Francis the Talking Mule, Mr. Ed, Dr. Doolittle’s aspirational “Talk To the Animals,” or the Donkey in William Steig’s book Shrek (and the subsequent movie franchise), the donkey that plays so central a role in Parshat Balak countered the human stereotype of the dumb animal. Balaam’s talking donkey possesses more than the ability to speak in human language: unlike its rider, this animal accurately perceives the power of the Divine.

In the mysterious mystical Jewish text Perek Shira (Chapter of Song), each element of creation sings a unique song to the Creator of All. Amidst all that inhabit the earth, the seas and the heavens, only the human being is absent. Perhaps it is the spaciousness of the silence that occurs in the absence of human voices that allows each creation to sing its own unique song to the Divine. “The Song of the Donkey” takes its text from I Chronicles 29:11— “For all of these are Yours, Adonai: the greatness, the strength, the beauty, the victory and the glory, everything in the heavens and the earth. Yours, Adonai, is the kingdom and the sovereignty to every leader.” Its song provides another example of the Donkey’s awareness of the Divine as the Source of All; as in Parshat Balak, the humble, often-mistreated and overlooked donkey comes to teach human beings. Brayed forth in a donkey-voice, it is a proclamation of the ways in which G-d is literally manifest in every aspect of creation.

Parshat Balak also holds interesting commonalities with other Jewish sacred texts. The Hebrew word for donkey, chamor, means “matter of clay,” a meaning synonymous with a lack of spiritual content. In its connection with Saul, David, Solomon and Absalom, the donkey is associated with royalty: Zechariah prophesized that the Messiah will ride into Jerusalem on a donkey. In Tractate Berachot 56b, the Talmud teaches that a dream in which a donkey appears symbolizes hope for salvation. And there is an ironic and powerful intra-textual donkey reference within the Torah: Balaam, a man as unlike the Abraham of the Akedah as we might imagine, also saddles up his donkey and sets out on a transformational journey that involves an angelic encounter and a Divine intervention.

A diviner who bargains with G-d and then disregards Divine instructions, Balaam is blinded by his own pride and covetousness to G-d’s power, G-d’s word, and G-d’s messenger. What he does respond to is the donkey’s refusal to obey—a refusal that saves his life but also forces him to hear. The man who does not heed the word of G-d listens to what the donkey says. The donkey’s speech opens Balaam’s ears and eyes: his immediate repentance is effected by his realization of his limitations as well as of the miraculous and infinite power of the Divine.

Balaam, too, is given the power of miraculous speech. He finds himself filled with the spirit of the Divine, unable to curse the Israelites, instead blessing them as he spontaneously, prophetically and poetically.

The story of Balaam and his talking donkey is embedded in Parshat Balak not as a moment of comic relief. It is a profoundly central lesson about our human proclivity to imagine ourselves more important and powerful than we actually are. The humble Donkey teaches us that we humans often fail see G-d’s messenger, even when that messenger stands before us. And in rebuking its rider, the Donkey reminds us of that we are obligated to acknowledge and appreciate our relationship with all of Creation—and to thank and bless the One who has given life to us all.

 

Parshat Balak

Torah Reading for Week of June 16-22, 2013

“Moses and Balaam” By Wynne R. Waugaman, PhD,
AJRCA Third Year Rabbinical Student

 

Why does the Torah include this story about Balak and Balaam?  It doesn’t seem to have any real relationship to the chapters before or after it except for the very end, where we are introduced to the plague that descended upon the Israelites who were seduced to worship the idols of the Midianite women.  One possible purpose is to provide a story about a man that was the complete opposite of Moses.

However, Balaam, the only non-Jewish prophet we read about in the Torah, and Moses were actually alike in many ways.  Both had the gift of prophecy, although Moses used his for good while Balaam used his for evil.  Balaam and Moses faced similar challenges in their lives. While both had the power of their own voices, G-d controlled their tongues.  Moses and Balaam both tried to ignore G-d’s wishes, which made G-d very angry: Moses refused to accept the responsibility of gathering the Israelites as G-d requested, while Balaam disobeyed by saying he was turning back when, in reality, he fully intended to go forward on his course to curse the Jews.  Further, both Balaam and Moses blamed their own shortcomings on others.  When the angel stood in front of him, Balaam claimed the reason he sinned was because he didn’t see the angel.  It wasn’t really his fault; if he would have seen the angel, he wouldn’t have sinned!  Moses, on the other hand, blames the Israelites for causing G-d to forbid him to enter the Promised Land!

How then do these two prophets really differ?  Examining more closely, we can see that they differ in their personalities and their overall behavior.  Moses is a shepherd who cares about the sheep under his watch. Indeed, isn’t this what led him to his first meeting with G-d during which he is selected to lead the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt? He also pleaded with G-d on behalf of the people at the golden calf and the incident of the spies. In contrast, Balaam demonstrated great cruelty to animals by beating the donkey who apparently served him well except for this one transgression.  The punishment hardly fit the crime in this case.  Moses is an open and straightforward man; you know what he is thinking.  When he is angry, he wears his anger on his sleeve.  Balaam is a devious man; he pretends to obey G-d, but in reality, doesn’t. 

This brings us back to the original question.  Why is this story inserted here?  Was Balaam a real person or is this just a midrash?  Is this to make Moses seem a more desirable prophet and perhaps make his punishment by G-d, of not being able to enter the Promised Land, seem extremely harsh and inappropriate?  Are we supposed to feel sorry for Moses? 

I think not.  I believe that Moses wanted us to learn a message from Balaam, that G-d’s Will prevails.  A prophet, a sorcerer, or a soothsayer cannot override the Will of G-d.  We have seen this time and time again throughout our history: even a clever person like Balaam, who schemes to destroy the nation of Israel through dishonesty with G-d, does not succeed.  The ultimate source of wisdom needed in our daily decision-making comes from G-d.  We ask G-d to provide what we lack. 

G-d’s Will touches every aspect and moment of our lives: goals, attitudes, and means — why, how, and what.  We have a choice.  We can follow the Will of G-d according to Moses, or we can choose the path of Balaam.

Parshat Balak

Torah Reading for Week of June 20 – 26, 2010

“A Good Eye”

by Rabbi Menachem Metzger

In Pirkei Avot (Ethics of our Fathers), usually learned on the Shabbat days during the summer months, we find the following teaching:
“Torah study not combined with work will in the end cease.”

Literally, this means that Torah study should ideally be combined with a vocation.

This year is the 250th yahrtzeit of the Baal Shem Tov, the dynamic inspirational personality who had a profound influence on the entire Jewish people, particularly with emphasis on love for a fellow Jew, irrelevant of his or her social status. The Baal Shem Tov interpreted the word “work” in a chasidic manner, as meaning the endeavor of every passage of Torah that one learns must result in the spiritual labor of love for a fellow Jew.

In this week’s Torah reading , Parashas Balak, we learn that Balak, the king of Moav hires Balaam the evil sorcerer to curse the Jewish people. Though Balak and Balaam move from place to place to view the Jewish people from various possibly unfavorable angles and thus to curse them, G-d obstructs Balaam and prevents him from this evil effort.

There are times when we look at others from a negative standpoint – but we must learn from Abraham our father, to look at others from a positive standpoint.

“Whoever possesses the following three characteristics is of the disciples of Abraham our father…a good eye…”

The Talmud tells us that our sages wanted to incorporate the prophesies of Balaam from the Torah portion of Balak into the daily recitation of the but they decided not to do this because it would take too long to recite. Although the parasha of Balak was not incorporated into the Shema, the verse from this portion appears at the beginning of the daily prayers in the ancient siddurim dating back to the times of R. Amram Gaon, and this is our present tradition. This expression of esteem for all Jewish dwelling places conveys words of uniting all Jewish people in cohesive unity.

“Bless us our father, for all of us are one and bonded together.” This is the threshold for our daily prayers, and we are thus worthy of the receiving of G-d’s blessing.