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Balaam Told Balak That Angels Would Come to Israel to Learn Torah

Balaam explained to Balak why sorcery could not touch Israel. They used the Urim and Tummim. And one day, angels would come to learn Torah from them.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What Balaam Actually Said When He Sat Down to Explain It
  2. A God with No Gap to Exploit
  3. The Urim and Tummim and the Question It Answered
  4. What Balaam Prophesied About the Angels

What Balaam Actually Said When He Sat Down to Explain It

Balak wanted a practical answer. He had tried conventional military assessment of Israel's threat, then contracted a prophet to curse them, and neither approach had produced anything useful. Now he wanted to understand, from the man who had the most direct prophetic access to the divine forces involved, exactly what Israel was and why no instrument in Balak's arsenal could touch them.

Balaam sat down and explained. The account is preserved in the Legends of the Jews, Louis Ginzberg's compilation published between 1909 and 1938, drawing from the aggadic traditions in Numbers Rabbah (5th-century Palestine) and the Talmud Bavli. What Balaam described was not a military analysis. It was a theology lecture, and it covered four distinct reasons why sorcery that worked on other nations would not work on Israel.

A God with No Gap to Exploit

The first reason was the nature of Israel's God. This was not a territorial deity, localized to a particular land and limited in scope by geography or the offerings made within it. This was a God who, in Balaam's own description, combines in Himself the powers of the angels and of the invisible forces of the universe. The scope of that statement, in the ancient context where every nation had its patron deity and every deity had its rivals and its blind spots, was staggering. Sorcery worked by finding the gap, the boundary between what your patron deity controlled and what some competing force controlled. You made your approach through the crack in the divine unity. There was no crack here. There was no court of appeal beyond the God of Israel, no competing force whose cooperation you could purchase, no blind spot in the divine jurisdiction. The sorcerer had nowhere to insert the curse.

Israel's fortune could shift, Balaam told Balak honestly. The divine protection was not unconditional. Sin could bring them low. Balaam understood this from the inside of the prophetic tradition - it was, in fact, the vulnerability he would later advise Balak to exploit through the Shittim operation. But even Israel's sins were handled within the same unified divine framework, addressed by plague and repentance and renewed covenant, never by the intervention of a rival power that could be hired for Moab's benefit.

The Urim and Tummim and the Question It Answered

The second reason was more specific: the Israelites used the Urim and Tummim. These were the oracular objects placed in the breastplate of the High Priest - stones inscribed with the names of the twelve tribes, through which divine guidance was sought and given. Aaron had received them as part of his installation as High Priest, and they were connected, in the tradition, to his particular quality of lovingkindness, his hesed. The Sifrei Devarim, a tannaitic midrash on Deuteronomy, describes Aaron as the man of lovingkindness who practiced hesed with the children of Israel and was tested at Massah and found complete.

What the Urim and Tummim meant for Balak's project was this: before any undertaking of consequence, Israel had direct access to divine guidance through legitimate channels. They could ask and receive an answer. A nation with that kind of access could not be ambushed by a sorcerer's curse, because the curse required working around the divine rather than through it, and a people who routinely worked through the divine directly were wrapped in a protection that sorcery had no leverage over.

What Balaam Prophesied About the Angels

The third point Balaam made was the one that the tradition preserves as the most astonishing: one day, the angels themselves would come to Israel to learn Torah. Not to bring Torah down from heaven to Israel, as they had done at Sinai - but to come to Israel and receive instruction. The direction of the teaching would reverse. The celestial beings who had questioned at Sinai why God was giving the Torah to humans at all, who had argued that the Torah belonged in heaven, would one day come to the children of Israel and sit at their feet.

This was Balaam's theological explanation for why Israel was in a category that sorcery could not reach. They were not simply a people under divine protection. They were, in the divine design, the keepers and teachers of the cosmic blueprint. The nation that would one day instruct the angels was not a nation you could curse from Peor with borrowed holiness and hired prophecy.


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From the tradition

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 6:47Legends of the Jews

Remember Balak, the King of Moab, and Balaam, the prophet he hired to curse the Israelites? (Numbers 22-24) Their story isn’t just a historical account; it’s a deep dive into the very nature of Israel's strength.

In Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, we hear Balaam speaking to Balak, explaining just what he's up against. Balaam acknowledges Balak's observation: "A people hath gone forth out of Egypt." But he quickly corrects him, saying it wasn't just any ordinary exodus. No, "God brought them forth out of Egypt!" This is key. It wasn’t just about physical liberation; it was divine intervention. God, who, according to Balaam, "combines in Himself the powers of the angels and of the invisible demons," was actively involved. image for a moment. God, the ultimate power, standing behind this people.

Balaam then goes on to explain the seemingly erratic nature of Israel's fate. "Swift as the flight of a bird," he says, comes both fortune and misfortune. When they sin, God can bring them low just as quickly as He can exalt them when they act righteously. It's a rollercoaster, a constant dance between action and consequence, between obedience and transgression.

Here’s the real kicker. Balak, in his desperation, is trying to find a weak spot, a way to bring woe upon Israel. Balaam tells him it's futile. Why? Because "they will have nothing to do with sorceries." They baffle the enchantments of other nations through their pious deeds. They don't rely on magic in battle, but instead, the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, consults God directly through the Urim and Tummin. Those were oracular objects placed on the High Priest's breastplate (Exodus 28:30), used to discern God's will.

It’s a direct line to the divine.

And it gets even more amazing. Balaam prophesies about a future time, a Messianic era, when Israel will sit before God "like a pupil before his master." They will receive the deepest secrets of the Torah, so profound that even the angels will consult Israel about these divine mysteries. Ginzberg's retelling highlights a stunning reversal: the angels, celestial beings, learning from humans! This is because the Israelites, in this future time, will be permitted to approach God more closely than the angels themselves.

Wow.

What does this all mean? Perhaps it suggests that the true strength of the Jewish people lies not in military might or magical powers, but in their relationship with God, their commitment to living a life of piety and learning, and their unique connection to the divine. The ability to access wisdom directly from the source, a source even angels seek. It's a powerful idea, one that might just explain that enduring resilience we talked about at the beginning. So, maybe the secret isn’t so secret after all. Maybe it’s simply… connection.

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Sifrei Devarim 349:5Sifrei Devarim

The verse Now, tumim and urim? These were objects, perhaps stones or inscriptions, placed in the breastplate of the High Priest, used for divination, for seeking divine guidance. But more than the mechanics of it, think about the implication: these sacred tools, these direct lines to the divine, are destined for Aaron because he's the "man of Your lovingkindness."

The text goes on to elaborate. It says Aaron was the "man who practiced lovingkindness with Your children." Simple. But profound. Hesed, lovingkindness, is a foundation of Jewish ethics, and Aaron embodies it.

Sifrei Devarim continues, stating that God "proved him in Massah." Massah… that rings a bell. That was a place of testing, of trial. the verse says Aaron was proved with many trials, and he was found “complete” in all of them. He was tested, and he passed. Seems like an open-and-shut case of a righteous leader.

Then comes a sharp turn. "You 'embattled' him at the waters of contention." The waters of contention – Mei Meriva in Hebrew. Bamidbar, the Book of Numbers, recounts this incident (20:10-13). It wasn’t a shining moment. Moses, frustrated with the complaining Israelites, struck a rock to bring forth water, when he was only supposed to speak to it. He also lashed out, calling them "fractious ones." But the text implies that Aaron was caught up in this too.

Sifrei Devarim puts it bluntly: God "caught him in the toils of libel." Heavy stuff.

Then comes the critical question: If Moses said, "Hear, now, you fractious ones," what did Aaron and Miriam do? What sin did they commit that kept them from entering Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel? Aaron, the man of lovingkindness, the one who passed so many tests, seemingly undone by a single moment of weakness, a single association with Moses's anger. What gives?

The text doesn’t explicitly answer the question. But it invites us to consider the weight of leadership, the immense responsibility placed on those who guide and represent the people. Perhaps Aaron’s sin wasn’t an act of commission, but one of omission. Perhaps his failure was not speaking out, not restraining Moses, not embodying the lovingkindness expected of him in that critical moment.

Maybe, just maybe, the point isn't about perfection. It's about the constant striving, the unending effort to live up to the highest ideals, even when those ideals seem impossibly distant. Aaron's story, with all its complexities, reminds us that even the most righteous figures are still human, still fallible. And perhaps, that’s what makes their example all the more powerful.

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