Parsha Themes Archive

QUESTIONS:

In this week’s parasha, several things seem to happen more than once. In fact, many things (three of them, in fact) seem to come in threes:

So not only do we have several patterns of triads, but we also have several explicit statements in the Torah which demonstrate awareness by the characters in the stories that there are triads here. It is almost as if the Torah is trying to direct our attention to the fact that there are these triads. But what are they supposed to mean?

There is no way to be sure, but to me they suggest the following: When something happens once, you can dismiss it completely. Even when it happens twice, you can still sort of pretend it didn’t happen or wonder if maybe you misinterpreted it somehow. But when it happens for a third time, there’s no denying it any longer: the number three has a certain solidity and certainty to it. This is perhaps related to the halakhic principle of “hazaka,” a state which is created when something happens three times (e.g., once something has happened three times, we asssume that it will happen again in the future).

For now, let us defer further development of this issue and look at other features of the parasha. Once we have greater clarity in the story as a whole, these patterns will provide deeper meaning.

When Balak’s men set out for Bil’am, they bring “kesamim” -- magical charms or -- with them. The fact that Balak provides these items for Bil’am tells us that Balak sees Bil’am as a professional sorcerer. As a magician, he will of course need the standard sorcerer’s toolbox, full of the usual tools: amulets, figurines, spell books, colored powders, rare herbs, incense to burn, and sundry other items. Unlike today, when a service professional usually brings his own tools -- the plumber comes with his own plunger and wrench, the doctor brings his own medical bag, etc. -- Balak provided Bil’am with “kesamim,” magical trinkets, tokens, or totems. (Without meaning to compare my son’s mohel to Bil’am the Evil, I recall that the mohel instructed me to bring gauze, antibiotic creams, pillows, and several other things. On the other hand, he did bring his own scalpel and scissors.)

So whoever Bil’am really is, we know that Balak thinks he is a sorcerer, a magician, a practitioner of mystical arts. We will take a closer look at Bil’am as sorcerer as we move on.

So Balak’s men arrive and set their master’s cursing-request before Bil’am, who consults Hashem. Hashem first wants to know who these people are who are spending the night at Bil’am’s place: “Who are these men with you?” Bil’am tells Hashem that they are Balak’s men. But this whole conversation certainly is a strange exchange. Why does Hashem have to ask Bil’am who the men are? Can’t He “see” for Himself?

By way of seeking an answer, where else have we seen Hashem ask questions to which He knows the answer? Some examples which come to mind:

This is, of course, just after Adam has eaten from the Tree of Knowledge against Hashem’s instructions. His eyes are opened, and he now knows that he has no clothing; he is hiding, he says, because he is naked. So Hashem has another question for him:

Without belaboring the point, one thing seems clear: Hashem asks questions when someone has done something wrong and He wants that person to own up to the deed: Kayyin is supposed to admit to the murder of his brother (he instead denies knowledge of Hevel’s whereabouts). Adam is supposed to admit that he is hiding because he is afraid of being punished for his deed (instead he claims modesty, but Hashem traps him anyway because he is not supposed to know about modesty!). Adam is supposed to respond to Hashem’s next question by admitting having eaten from the tree (but he instead blames it on his wife).

In other words, a question from Hashem usually signals that someone has done something wrong. And in the cases above, human nature attempts to hide the deed anyway.

Bil’am is no exception to the pattern: Hashem asks, “Who are these men with you?” because he wants Bil’am to understand that He knows who these men are -- and that Bil’am’s relationship with them should end right here. But Bil’am doesn’t take the hint, just as Kayyin and Adam didn’t.

On the other hand, Bil’am is a bit different from Adam and Kayyin: instead of shrugging his shoulders (“Well, uh, how should I know where my brother is?”) or trying to sidestep the question (“Uh, I’m behind this tree because I, uh, have no clothes”), he decides to brazen right through: “Oh, these men here? You want to know who they are? They, uh, they’re Balak’s men. Yeah. From Mo’av. They came to me to ask me to curse someone. You know, that nation that left Egypt, the nation that’s swarming across the desert towards Balak. Balak wants my help in defeating them. That’s who these men are.” Bil’am either pretends that he doesn’t understand the significance of Hashem’s question, or he really is blind and doesn’t see the problem: that these are Hashem’s most favorite people and that He is not excited about their being cursed.

Hashem listens to Bil’am and makes it explicit: don’t do this job. Don’t go with them, and don’t curse this people, “for they are blessed.”

When Bil’am receives this first warning, he obeys the direct order not to go with the men, but he is still quite eager to do a little hexing on Bnei Yisrael if the opportunity presents itself. So instead of telling Balak’s men that he will not do the job because the target nation is blessed, i.e., because he himself feels it would be wrong to curse them, he tells them that his Boss said no: “Hashem has refused to allow me to go with you.” He himself, of course, would be delighted to do the job and take the money.

Balak’s men return to their master and report Bil’am’s response -- except that they make an important emendation to Bil’am’s response: “*Bil’am* refused to go with us.” This is not exactly how Bil’am himself had formulated it: Bil’am had said, “*Hashem* has refused . . .”, making it clear that he was willing but that Hashem was not. But Balak’s men don’t notice this fine point, so in the game of telephone which is all of human communication, they flub it and change Bil’am’s answer and make it sound like Bil’am himself doesn’t want to do the job. Balak’s thought, naturally, is that Bil’am must have refused his request because the messengers he sent weren’t important enough to give Bil’am the honor he felt he deserved, and because Bil’am wasn’t happy with the price (or didn’t think Balak could afford his fees for a house call).

So Balak sends men again, “more numerous and more honorable than these” [i.e., than the first group], and they carry Balak’s message that “I will surely honor you greatly,” paying whatever you ask. Bil’am responds by correcting Balak; to paraphrase, “It is not I, Bil’am, who stand in the way here, it is Hashem! Even if you offered me your whole treasury, I could not go against Him!”

On the surface, Bil’am sounds like a faithful servant of Hashem. Nothing can make him disobey his God.

But we have already seen that Bil’am’s dedication goes only so far. He is not so bold as to actually defy Hashem by going with Balak’s men and cursing Bnei Yisrael, but he has not at all internalized Hashem’s will as his own. In other words, he is only behaviorally saintly. He will not actually *do* anything to contravene Hashem’s explicit instructions to him, but he is completely uninterested in Hashem’s unexpressed will, even when it should be apparent to him what Hashem wants.

Of course, it is sometimes appropriate to want to do something which is forbidden. In such cases, we show our loyalty and dedication to Hashem by not doing the forbidden thing we want to do. But this is true only where the prohibition is not a moral or ethical one. For example, it is not praiseworthy to desire greatly to sleep with your neighbor’s spouse but to refrain from doing so because you know it is forbidden. It is something we should not *want* to do because it is wrong, because to do so violates the sanctity of marriage and destroys the fabric of the family. On the other hand, we might say that it is praiseworthy to want to sample a piece of marinated squid but to refrain simply because it is forbidden. (Some might argue with this last example, too.) The point is that we are supposed to develop into ethical and moral people, not remain internally corrupt and simply *behave* externally the way ethical and moral people would behave.

Bil’am is a saint, externally. “Curse these innocent people for money? Sure! Let me just ask the Boss.”

When Bil’am asks Hashem for the second time about going with Balak, Hashem allows him to go, but warns him to follow His directions carefully. As far as we can tell, Bil’am is ready to obey, and so he tells us himself: “I cannot transgress the mouth of Hashem, my God, to do a small or great thing.” But as soon as he hits the road on his trusty donkey, we hear that “Hashem was very angry becaushe was going.” Now, Hashem is the One who just told him to go -- so why is He angry?

Hashem is angry because Bil’am didn’t take the hint. Bil’am tells Balak’s men that he cannot do a thing without Hashem’s approval -- but he is hardly making this journey just to be Hashem’s mouthpiece to Balak, whether blessing or curse is to be delivered! Bil’am is hoping against hope that he will somehow be able to curse Bnei Yisrael and take home the jackpot Balak has offered him. So although he is making the journey with permission, he is quite eager to find a way to get around Hashem’s earlier instruction: “Do not curse the nation, for it is blessed!” A true servant of Hashem, sensitive to His will, would not be making this journey at all.

Here is the place to start to think about what Bil’am could possibly be thinking. Since Hashem has forbidden the cursing, what does Bil’am hope to accomplish? Don’t we hear from Bil’am himself, later on in the parasha, that Hashem is not One to change His mind like a fickle human being (“No man is Hashem, that He should lie, or a son of man, that He should retract”), that once He has blessed, He will not turn around and curse?

This brings us to one of the central questions of this week’s parasha: what exactly is Bil’am? A great prophet? A small-time seer? A sorcerer of the dark arts, a necromancer? What exactly is his relationship with Hashem? Where does he get his power?

I believe that a careful reading of the parasha indicates that Bil’am’s ideas about Hashem, and his conception of his own function, undergo radical change as a result of his experiences in trying to curse Bnei Yisrael in our parasha. And as his own ideas change and he learns who Hashem really is and who he himself really is, his sponsor, Balak, learns along with him.

At the beginning of the parasha, Bil’am is really more sorcerer than prophet. Unlike a prophet, a sorcerer is not a moral giant -- he is simply a technician. The power of the sorcerer does not come from Hashem’s gracefully performing the sorcerer’s will out of regard for his moral stature and faithful dedication; instead, the sorcerer is trained in tapping into the Divine power grid (or other sources of power) to do his work.

While the prophet works primarily on himself, perfecting his moral character and devotion to Hashem and achieving a level of focus on the Divine which enables him to communicate with Hashem, the sorcerer works primarily on manipulating other things: he uses magical totems, sprinkles colored powders, writes secret amulets, pronounces special incantations and obscure spells, and sacrifices animals to “appease” the demanding deities. The sorcerer manipulates forces which exist and which he sees as external to himself; there is nothing intrinsically holy or exalted about the sorcerer. The prophet, on the other hand, is a profoundly moral and religious figure; above all, his aspiration is not to manipulate the external supernatural for external purposes, but to come into direct relationship with Hashem by changing himself.

These two mentalities control how the sorcerer and prophet each conceive of God (or gods, if he believes in several): the prophet sees God as the moral North star, a transcendent, highest good and benevolence whose will must be obeyed. It would be inconceivable, under normal circumstances, for him to flout God’s will. And, more importantly, he does his best to match his own will to God’s. He obeys not only God’s spoken, explicit command, but attempts to ascertain God’s unexpressed will and follow it. The sorcerer, however, sees God (or gods) primarily as a force to be tapped, not a source for imperatives or a Will to be matched with his own will. He therefore does not pay attention to the desire of the deity except insofar as disobeying explicit commands might interfere with the sorcerer’s ability to tap the deity’s power.

Bil’am begins the parasha as a sorcerer. He has tapped into Hashem’s power grid and acquired a reputation as a powerful person: Balak says to him, “I know that whoever you bless is blessed, and whoever you curse is cursed.” When Balak’s men come to him and request a hex on Bnei Yisrael, Bil’am goes right away to check with Hashem, his power source. Hashem tells him not to go with the men and not to curse Bnei Yisrael. Bil’am sees that he has no support for this stunt, so he tells Balak’s men he can’t do the job.

Then Balak sends more men to Bil’am, and Bil’am asks Hashem again. Bil’am has completely ignored the internal side of the isssue -- that he is not supposed to curse Bnei Yisrael for an actual *reason* (which he himself will articulate later, in his own blessings to the people), and he once again checks the power grid for available “current.” Hashem gives Bil’am what Bil’am sees as an equivocal response: go with the men, but take care to do what I tell you to do. Bil’am is encouraged: he has gotten approval from the power source for half of what he wants; maybe the next time he asks, he will be able to somehow get the other half: power to curse. As far as Bil’am is concerned, Hashem is not so much an identity with will as a power to be mechanically manipulated. If so, it may be possible to manipulate this power into serving his needs, as time goes on.

Hashem understands what Bil’am is up to and decides that he needs to be educated.

As Bil’am rides along with Balak’s men, an angel appears in front of him, sword drawn, looking menacing. As we know, Bil’am’s donkey sees the angel, but Bil’am is blind to it. The donkey makes three attempts to turn aside and avoid the angel swordsman, and each time Bil’am beats the donkey with his stick (especially when it crushes his foot against a wall!).

After the third time, the donkey turns to Bil’am and miraculously says, “What have I done to you, that you have hit me these three times?” Again, like Hashem’s question to Bil’am earlier on (“Who are these men with you?”), we have a question to which the answer is obvious! Of course, he hit the donkey for disobedience! But Bil’am is supposed to understand that he is being told something by Hashem, who is speaking through his donkey.

Hashem had caused the donkey to turn aside three times, but Bil’am didn’t take those hints. Now Hashem opens the donkey’s mouth and causes it to ask a question to which it knows (and Bil’am knows it knows) the answer. Bil’am is not supposed to answer the question, he is supposed to just turn himself around and go home. But Bil’am still doesn’t take the hint; he simply gives the answer: “Because you have disobeyed me! If I had a sword in my hand, I would kill you now!” Bil’am does not know as he says this that there is a sword in the *angel’s* hand ready to kill him, but he will soon see.

Hashem opens Bil’am’s eyes (the donkey sees before the “seer” sees, and also acquires speech before he acquires sight!), and he sees the angel. In a flash, he is apologetic and humble: “Hey, I didn’t know You were upset about this trip I’m taking. If You really want, I’ll just turn around and go right on home!” Although Bil’am’s eyes are opened physically, he remains blind. He cannot see that a prophet would turn around without an explicit command, that Hashem’s will is enough for the prophet. Bil’am is thinking about all that money.

The angel, echoing the donkey, emphasizes that Bil’am has been given three subtle warnings through his donkey, but that he has ignored all of them. And then the angel *repeats* this to Bil’am to give him *another* chance to decide to go home. But instead of just going home, Bil’am *asks* if he should go home. Bil’am will obey only a direct behavioral order. He is not interested in God’s unexpressed will: “I cannot transgress the *word* of Hashem, my God” -- but he certainly can and does transgress the desire of Hashem. He is a sorcerer, not a prophet; a manipulator of the spiritual, not a man of God.

The angel then warns Bil’am once again that even as he continues his journey, he is to do exactly what Hashem tells him to do. Why is it necessary to deliver twarning once again?

A careful look will show that this warning is different than the earlier ones: before, Bil’am was warned not to disobey Hashem behaviorally. Now, he is being told that he must not act as a sorcerer at all, but instead as a prophet! He was hired as a sorcerer, to speak his own will and make God perform it: to curse. But Hashem tells him here that he is not to speak his own thoughts at all: “Only the thing that I speak to you shall you speak.” Bil’am is being forced to act as Hashem’s mouthpiece. He cannot curse the people, he can only report what Hashem has said.

The message sinks in: when Bil’am arrives at Balak HQ and Balak scolds him for delaying his arrival -- “Why did you take so long?” -- Bil’am responds: “Look, I’m finally here. And let me tell you: I no longer do that cursing stuff on my own. I just say what Hashem tells me to say. Whatever He tells me to say, that’s what I’ll say.” Now, Balak probably doesn’t catch the difference between the old Bil’am and the new, but he has just been told that Bil’am will act only as Hashem’s mouthpiece. He has been expressly forbidden to do otherwise.

But Bil’am is still hoping that Hashem will change His mind and agree to curse the people! Twice, he has Balak prepare sacrifices to appease the Deity, and twice Hashem appears to him on schedule. But Hashem is not impressed with Balak’s korbanot, and He sends Bil’am back to bless Bnei Yisrael.

As we know, Bil’am’s first and second contacts with Hashem yield him only praises and blessings for Bnei Yisrael instead of the curses for which he had hoped. By the third time, Bil’am gives up. He has finally taken the hint: “Bil’am saw that it was good IN THE EYES OF HASHEM to bless Yisrael.” He has not heard anything *explicit* from Hashem, but he decides of his own volition to stop pretending, to stop blinding himself to the Divine will. And he makes no further attempt to use sorcery to curse the people: “ . . . and he did not go as he did in the previous times toward sorcery.”

Bil’am has finally begun to listen to his own words, placed in his mouth by Hashem in his second vision: “Not a man is Hashem, to lie, nor a person, to retract. Would He say and not do, speak and not fulfill?” He sees that Hashem’s will is iron, and he bends to it for the first time. He gives up the hope that Hashem will agree to curse the people, and he turns toward Bnei Yisrael to offer them a blessing of his own. This is why this third blessing is so repetitive of the second: he has taken Hashem’s material and adopted it as his own. And Hashem, sensing his new approach, inspires him: “And there came upon him a spirit of God.”

Bil’am for the first time prefaces his blessing with a self-description -- here and in the fourth vision, because he is now highly self-aware. He realizes that his eyes have been opened, and he is now the man who is “geluy eynayyim,” “of opened eyes.” Hashem has opened his eyes, and now he truly sees! He is now the “yode’a **da’at** Elyon,” the one who knows not just what Hashem *tells* him, but also what Hashem *desires,* what His will is. And Bil’am finally becomes not a sorcerer, but a prophet.

[Of course, this does not make him a hero. Still hoping to collect Balak’s reward money, but having realized that Hashem operates within a moral rather than magical/mechanical framework, he gives up his attempts to sabotage Bnei Yisrael through magic and turns to moral sabotage: he advises Balak to send the Moabite women out to tempt Bnei Yisrael into sexual immorality, betting that this will arouse Hashem’s anger against them and enable Moav and Midyan to gain the upper hand in battle. He is partially successful, as Bnei Yisrael are drawn into the sexual trap and stricken by a plague, but Hashem maintains His fundamental support for them, and Bil’am is eventually killed by Bnei Yisrael in retribution for his key role in their stumbling.]