Parashat Balak, Numbers 22:2 - 25:9

This week’s portion – Balak, named after the Moabi king – is, in my mind, the most interesting, intriguing, and fascinating of all portions of the week. It is interesting, because it contains prophecy prose that Yehoshua Leibovitz himself described as “the most exquisite of the entire bible.” For example, it includes the famous “Mah Tovu O’halei’cha Ya’akov” (“oh, how fair are your tents, O Jacob”), the first verse read by every believing Jew in the morning from his Siddur.  It is intriguing, because of its protagonist – a non-Jew named Bil’am, who is such an amazing and perplexing figure that many a commentator could not quite figure out who he really was. For example, Leibovitz is of the opinion that he might be Jessus Christ himself; Avrum Burg, in contrast, thinks he’s Moshe’s alter ego. That alone – and the fact that there is absolutely no consensus around his figure -- is quite unique in the entire cannon, and therefore intriguing.

And it is fascinating, especially to me, as it presents a wonderful question – a question so bizarre, so perplexing, so frightening, that its mere recitation alone may be considered serious blaspheme: Was the greatest believers of all time a non-Jew?

Today I would not be able to explain the many facets of this amazing story. I would ask you to read every word, and every line of it, of course. Instead, I would go over the story’s main themes, and try to explain them in an introductory manner for trying to understand the greatest, and deepest, of all portions.

The Story of Billam

Our story begins this week with a routine tool of international non-warfare at the time of the bible: A curse by a reputable “magician.” (We will not go into the deep meaning of the description of Billam as a magician, but those of you who are interested are welcome to ask me about it.) Thus, the King of the "cursing" nation – here, Balak, King of Moab – asks the magician, Billam (whose name alone reads like the Da Vinci code) to go and curse the Israelites. The actual invitation to curse by King Balak to Billam is executed through all the rules of diplomatic protocol: The King sends a group of dignified messengers to Billam (called in the Hebrew originals “angles,” perhaps for a reason); he asks Billam to curse the Israelites; and then the King, appropriately, closes by acknowledging Billam’s greatness: “For I have known that which you would bless shall be blessed, and that you shall curse will be cursed.” This so-far typical story for its time reaches a sudden turn when Billam -- a non-Jewish sorcerer -- opens his mouth for the first time to answer the dignitaries who came on behalf of the regional King: “Stay the night here, and I shall reply to you that thing which God would speak to me.” (Numbers, 22:8). This is very surprising, as the text doesn’t leave any trace of doubt as to which God does Billam intend to consult that night: we have the actual Holly name of being coming out of Billam’s mouth, unedited. 

The next verse is nothing less than shocking: “And God came to Billam and said: who are those people with you?” The conversation between God and Billam seems almost trivial, something that happens every day. And God doesn’t “speak” to Billam like He does to Moshe (so many times); rather, God “comes to” Billam. Indeed, later on, we hear (from Billam himself) the greatest praise a human has ever received from God (including Abraham, Mosses, and all the rest): “[He who] hears the words of God, and knows the opinion of the Supreme.” (24:16). So we are dealing here with someone who is in a higher level of intimacy with God   than any person before or since.  And, he is not Jewish. This is shocking. 

Moving along in the story, God refuses to send Billam to curse Israel, and Billam not only fully accepts that -- throughout the story, Billam will never once question or argued with God (even when his life hangs in the balance due to God's word), as Moshe has done many a time – and thus he orders the King's men to leave.  The King is not persuaded, however, sending Billam even higher dignitaries who promise Billam many more gifts for his services. Billam’s answer, again, is a classic: “Even if Balak (the King) would give me his entire home full of silver and gold, I would never violate the word of the Lord my God, whether it is to do the smallest or the biggest of things.” Again God “comes to” Billam at night, but this time orders him to go with the men in the morning.

So then Billam wakes up in the morning, and he saddles his mule.  Why would the text tell us that, and where have we heard that before? Well – and this answer may send chills down your spine – we heard that before in the story of the Akeda, when Abraham wakes up in the morning and saddles his donkey (Genesis 22:3). Yes, the preparation of the first “Slave of God,” the Father of our nation, to his greatest – and fiercest – test of belief, is now likened to that of this strange “magician” who came out of nowhere.  To eliminate any doubt of coincidence, comes the next verse – “and he is riding his mule and the two young servants with him,” exactly like Abraham, who was accompanied – other than by his son – by two young servants. (Finally, Balak also prepares “a ram on the altar” – just like Abraham’s.)  

The next part of the story is the most famous, when “an angel of God” stands in front of the said mule, with sword at hand. Initially Billam cannot see him, and therefore he gets angry with the poor mule. The mule, on its part, opens its mouth and begins talking. Only then, does God “opens his eyes” so Billam could see the angel. The symbolism, depth, and originality of this segment are so profound that I cannot begin to comment on them in this short space. But please, do read.

Importantly, Billam continues to produce pearls that only a true believer would: Thus, when he sees the angel for the first time, he immediately suggests to return home despite the fact that God himself ordered him to go. Like Job, Billam, too, accept God as is – without rhyme or reason.  

In the next parts of the story – which I cannot go over here, for lack of space – Billam repeats, time and again, that he would neither course nor bless Israel but rather do as God would tell him to. This is, again, nothing less than shocking, considering the fact that his professional reputation is riding on his performance; moreover, since the King and all his leadership team are present during those elaborate ceremonies, it very well might be that Billam’s life, too, were in danger (public disobedience of Kings' orders at the time was not often met with favor).  But instead, Billam time and again repeats: “whatever God would tell me to say, that I will keep to say.” (e.g., 23:12). And then, to top all that, Billam produces the most beautiful of prophecies, the most divine, ever-lasting collection of truly uplifting descriptions of the ideal nation of Israel.  And all that, we should recall, from a non-Jew.

The Lesson of Billam’s Story

Expectedly, the story of Billam presents huge difficulties to orthodox Judaism. Something is simply wrong here. It cannot be – cannot be – that a “goy” (non-Jew) would be so intimate with God; would be so courageous – in public – in front of Kings and leaders, citing as his only source of belief God himself (recall that Abraham, for example, was not that courageous when it came to his wife with the regional Kings); and, perhaps worst of all, that this man produced the most exquisite, the most often-cited, prophecies about Israel.

Far it is from me to solve this conundrum, which interpreters have been quarreling over for thousands of years. But allow me to offer my two cents here.  To me, this story is a cautionary tale – a precursor, if you will, to what is happening in these very days in Israel (when religious people prefer to go to jail and violate court orders, rather than not discriminating against poor Mizrahi girls in their school, citing as their only reference God himself).  And the message is this: We are the chosen people only to the extent that we act as one – vis-à-vis each other, and vis-à-vis God. "Chosen" is a burden, a liability, not a God-given right (pardon the pun). God is too great, and too powerful, to leave us with the monopoly over His representation on earth. He may choose His messengers – prophets, magicians (and that has another precedent, too, when God brings Shmuel to Saul, the King, through a woman-magician in Ein Dor who is not Jewish) , and others – and those messengers do not have to be Jewish. Just like not every Jewish person believes in God, similarly God does not have to believe only in Jewish persons. And to the extent that we think that only “we” produced the “slaves of God” (Abraham), or people who knew him “face to face” (Moshe), comes the great story of Billam and teaches us that it is among the non-Jews a person may emerge who would carry God’s message better than us, especially if we fail to behave as God expects us to. 

Thus, the G’mara said: “From Moshe to Moshe there has never been as Moshe” – In Israel, there has never been as Moshe; but in other nations, there has been; and who is he? Billam ben Be’or.”

Enough said. Shabbat Shalom.