(for the week of June 26, 2010/14 Tammuz, 5770)

Parashat “Balak”
Numbers 22:2-25:9

Every parent (and child) has been there. The child asks for something that is not a good idea. The parent says, “I’m sorry, no.” The child asks again, this time adding a very sweet and pleading, “please!” The parent, well-trained in the art of empathy (and probably well-rested) says, “I know you’re disappointed and I’m so sorry but the answer is still no.” The child persists. The parent (perhaps not that well rested after all) responds, “I said no and I meant it. Now please don’t ask me again.” But this deceptively small person has a very large will and is not to be put off. And sometimes, if there is no serious, physical risk to the child, the parent (now, not-very-rested at all) may sigh that familiar, heavy sigh and say, “Alright, I still don’t think this is a good idea but I guess you’ll have to find that out for yourself.”

Every year, when I come to the opening scene of this week’s parasha, I think of that parental moment. King Balak, ruler of the Moabites, sends a high level delegation to the soothsayer, Balaam, and asks Balaam to curse the Israelites for him. Apparently, King Balak is worried about his people’s ability to drive out a much larger number of Israelites, whose reputation for vanquishing the people who oppose them has grown. Initially, Balaam is smart enough to explain to his visitors that he must check with God about the proper response to their invitation. Think of this statement as Balaam’s version of: “I have to ask my Mom if I can go”. And God’s response is clear. “Do not go with them. You must not curse that people, for they are blessed (Numbers 22:12).” So, Balaam returns to his guests and says: “Go back to your own country for the Eternal will not let me go with you (Numbers 22:13).”

So far, so good. The delegation returns to the king and reports Balaam’s response. But then, King Balak sends even more distinguished emissaries in even larger numbers to ask Balaam to come and curse the Israelites. The messengers plead and cajole and promise great riches until Balaam agrees to ask God, again, for permission to go. Now, just so we’re clear, the Torah doesn’t describe a heavy, parental sigh emanating from heaven. But I’m pretty sure I can hear it between the lines. This time, God responds to Balaam, “If these personages have come to invite you, you may go with them. But whatever I command you, that you shall do (Numbers 22:20).” This sounds like the Biblical equivalent of, “Alright, if you’re going to keep nagging me about this, I’ll allow you to go play in the park in the rain with your friends. But you have to wear your raincoat; there’s no argument about doing so or the deal is off.”

For me, the real question is why. Why does God relent and allow Balaam to go? It’s possible that Balaam just wears God down. But I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure that God (whatever our diverse, personal theologies) doesn’t get tired. More likely, God realizes what many a frustrated parent has come to understand. There are certain truths we simply have to learn for ourselves. It’s not enough for someone, even a wise and loving someone, to warn us about the consequences or explain why what we plan to do is a mistake. Often, we have to live the experience ourselves in order to learn why it is wrong….or right.

That simple fact is useful for parents and teachers to remember. However, this truth also can be turned upside down and used to help students, both young and old. There are insights that nobody else can learn for us or explain sufficiently until we’ve experienced those Truths for ourselves. We cannot rely on others to pray for us, learn for us, make apologies for us, fight for justice for us or connect with God for us. No matter how eloquent and passionate the teacher, no one truly understands the preciousness of Shabbat until the sabbath becomes woven into the fabric of her experience and her soul. Otherwise, the richness of Shabbat is just an abstraction that can be difficult to explain or apprehend.

Of course, teachers, parents, bosses and leaders sometimes have to leave us the room to make our own mistakes and discoveries, learning deeply from both of them. But just as often, we will have to prod ourselves to take responsibility for our own growth. We have to show up. We have to care. We have to choose. We have to act. We have to be willing to fail and make mistakes and keep trying and learning these lessons for ourselves. That’s not just a prerequisite for taking the many journeys on which God sends us throughout our lives. As Balaam discovers, sometimes, it may be the purpose of the journey.