Parshat Balak6 min read

Balaam Rode to Curse Israel and Could Not Stop Blessing

Balaam saddled his donkey before dawn, eager to curse Israel for Balak's money. The donkey saw the angel blocking the road. Balaam saw nothing.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Donkey That Preceded Him
  2. The Permission and the Eagerness
  3. What the Donkey Saw
  4. The Blessing He Could Not Stop
  5. The Admission

The Donkey That Preceded Him

The donkey Balaam rode to Moab had been in the world longer than Balaam had. It was one of the things created in the final moments of the sixth day, when God completed the physical world and added to it a handful of objects and creatures whose purpose would only become clear later in history: the rainbow, the manna, the first set of stone tablets, and this specific donkey. According to the Legends of the Jews, it had been a gift from Jacob to Balaam, intended, with an irony that would take centuries to unfold, to prevent Balaam from giving bad advice about Jacob's descendants to the rulers who would later try to destroy them.

Balaam had already used his gifts to advise Pharaoh about how to manage the growing Hebrew population in Egypt. That advice had contributed to the enslavement. Now Balak, king of Moab, had sent for him with a different commission: come and curse the people camped on his border, because Balak had seen what happened to the Amorites and he was afraid.

The Permission and the Eagerness

God had said no first. Balaam went back to Balak's messengers with the answer and they returned with more impressive ones and better offers. God relented, conditionally: go, but speak only what I tell you. Balaam should have heard the condition as the whole of the instruction. Instead he heard the permission and woke up early.

He saddled his own donkey. This was not what wealthy prophets with servants did, and the Legends of the Jews noted it. His eagerness had gotten ahead of his dignity. He was racing toward the assignment before the assignment's terms had settled in him, saddling the animal himself because his servants were not moving fast enough, because he could already see the silver Balak had promised and could not afford to lose a moment of the head start God had grudgingly given him.

What the Donkey Saw

Three times the angel of the Lord stood in the road, sword drawn. Three times the donkey stopped or veered or pressed against a wall. Balaam, the prophet who heard the voice of God and could read men's fates, saw nothing. He beat the donkey each time. When the donkey finally spoke, the voice coming out of the animal's mouth with the flatness of someone who has been patient long enough, it said only: "have I ever done this to you before in all the years you have ridden me?" And Balaam, extraordinarily, answered the donkey directly: "no. You have not."

Then God opened Balaam's eyes and he saw the angel. He fell on his face. The angel told him what the donkey had already known: the road was blocked because the mission was wrong from the beginning, and only the donkey's intelligence had kept Balaam alive long enough to have his eyes opened.

The Blessing He Could Not Stop

Balak brought Balaam to three high places overlooking the Israelite camp and waited for the curse. Each time, what came out of Balaam's mouth was a blessing. He could not help himself. His mouth opened, the words of God came through, and the people camped below were declared indestructible, beloved, destined for greatness. Balak moved him from hill to hill hoping the angle would change the result. It did not.

Balaam's most famous oracle spilled out against his will: "how goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel." He called them a people that dwells apart, not reckoned among the nations. He said their king would be greater than Agag. He said a star would come from Jacob. Everything Balak had hired him to prevent, he proclaimed instead, on three different hilltops, in the clear air of Moab, while the Israelite camp stretched out below him in the morning light.

The Admission

After it was over, after Balak had dismissed him in fury, after the blessing had been spoken three times and could not be unsaid, Balaam admitted what he had finally understood. He said, according to the Legends of the Jews: "I was in error when I believed Israel could be easily attacked, but now I know that they have taken deep root in the earth, and cannot be uprooted." He named the reason specifically: God forgave them their sins out of consideration for the covenant sign they had preserved from Abraham, and because their prayers rose up to heaven with the smell of frankincense.

He fled to Egypt afterward, as a man who has failed his client and knows his client will not forgive him. He arrived to honors and elaborate receptions, his reputation had preceded him, but the people who had not been cursed were still out there, and eventually the armies of Israel would find Balaam among the Midianites and put him to the sword.


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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 6:20Legends of the Jews

The story begins with an ass – not just any ass, but one created on the sixth day of creation itself! According to Legends of the Jews, this creature was gifted to Balaam by Jacob, intended to prevent him from giving bad advice to Pharaoh regarding Jacob's descendants. Ironically, it was Balaam's counsel that led Pharaoh to enslave the Israelites (Ginzberg).

Balaam, ever the image-conscious noble, brought along his two sons, Jannes and Jambres, because apparently, even evil prophets need company. And though God granted Balaam permission for his journey (to curse the Israelites, no less!), divine anger simmered beneath the surface. As God said, "Behold, this man! He knows that I read each man's heart, and knows also that he departeth only to curse Israel." (Ginzberg).

This sets the stage for a showdown. The Angel of Mercy,

Here’s where it gets really interesting. The donkey, and only the donkey, could see the angel blocking their way. Why? Because God, in his infinite wisdom, shields humans from the constant barrage of angelic presence, lest we all lose our minds from terror (Ginzberg). Can you imagine seeing angels everywhere all the time?

The donkey's actions are far from random. First, she veers off the road, trying to avoid the angel standing in the middle of it. Then, as the path narrows, she can only turn to one side. Finally, they reach a place where there's no escape. These maneuvers, according to Legends of the Jews, were meant to teach Balaam a crucial lesson about cursing Abraham’s descendants.: if Balaam wanted to curse Abraham's children, he should have leeway on both sides – Ishmael's children and Keturah's children. If he wanted to curse Isaac's children, one side – Esau's children – would still be open to him. But cursing Jacob's children? Impossible! They are protected on all sides: by Abraham and Isaac, by Jacob and Levi, and by God above (Ginzberg). Quite the spiritual force field, wouldn't you say?

There's even more symbolism packed into this bizarre roadside encounter. The "wall on this side, and on that side" that Balaam had to pass through alluded to his inability to overcome Israel, who possessed the tablets of the law, "that were written on both their sides." (Ginzberg). The luchot, or tablets, were a powerful symbol of the covenant.

Finally, when the donkey reached the wall that Jacob and Laban erected as a evidence of their peaceful agreement, she pressed against it, punishing Balaam for betraying Jacob's legacy (Ginzberg). Ouch.

So, what do we take away from Balaam's bumpy ride? It's a reminder that even divine permission doesn't excuse wicked intentions. It highlights the unseen forces at play in our lives, the protective power of ancestry and covenant, and, perhaps most surprisingly, the keen perception of a divinely appointed donkey. Maybe, just maybe, we should listen more closely to the animals around us. They might see things we can't.

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Legends of the Jews 6:18Legends of the Jews

Remember him? Balak, the King of Moab, was terrified of the Israelites and their growing power. So, he sent messengers to Balaam, hoping he could curse them.

The story takes a twist when Balaam asks God for permission to go. Initially, God says no. But, after further prodding, God relents, saying, "Go, but only do what I tell you." (Numbers 22:20). Now, you’d think Balaam would be a bit hesitant. But according to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Balaam could hardly wait for morning! He was rejoicing, almost as much as Balak's messengers, at this apparent "go-ahead" from God. He was still hoping, against all good advice, that he would succeed in bringing disaster upon Israel.

In his eagerness to get going, Balaam actually saddled his own donkey! Now, Balaam wasn't exactly lacking in servants, you know? He was a pretty important guy. So why was he doing it himself?

The text sees this as a moment of extreme hubris and twisted ambition. God, seeing this, remarks (Legends of the Jews), "O thou villain, their ancestor Abraham forestalled thee, for he too rose up early in the morning and in person saddled his ass to lead Isaac to sacrifice in fulfillment of the command that had reached him." for a second. Abraham, our patriarch, the epitome of faith and devotion, also rose early and saddled his own donkey. But what a difference in intention! Abraham was preparing to fulfill God's command, a heartbreaking test of his loyalty. Balaam, on the other hand, was driven by his own desire for power and, perhaps, a bit of personal gain.

It’s a fascinating comparison, isn't it? Two men, seemingly doing the same action – saddling a donkey early in the morning – yet driven by such vastly different motivations. It really makes you think about the intentions behind our own actions, doesn't it? Are we acting out of devotion and a desire to do good, or are we, perhaps, driven by something a little less…pure? Something to ponder,.

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Legends of the Jews 6:41Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Balaam Admits Israel Cannot Be Uprooted From the Earth.

Balaam admitted, "I was in error when I believed Israel could be easily attacked, but now I know that they have taken deep root in the earth, and cannot be uprooted." He realized something fundamental: the connection between the Jewish people and their land, their roots, runs incredibly deep.

Why this resilience? Why this protection? Balaam offers some clues. He says, "God forgives them many sins out of consideration for their having preserved the token of the Abrahamic covenant..." That "token" is brit milah, circumcision, the physical sign of the covenant between God and Abraham and his descendants. It's a constant reminder, a physical embodiment of this ancient agreement.

It's not just about that single act. Balaam continues, "Israel is distinguished from all other nations by their custom, by their food, by the token of the covenant upon their bodies, and by the token upon their doorposts.." That last one refers to the mezuzah, the small case containing a parchment inscribed with verses from the Torah, affixed to the doorposts of Jewish homes. These aren't just rituals; they're constant, visible reminders of a unique identity.

And this uniqueness has profound implications. Balaam declares, "it is a people that shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations." This isn't about isolationism or superiority; it's about a distinct path, a separate destiny.

It even affects how God judges them. "God doth not judge them at the same time with other nations, for He judges the latter in the darkness of the night, but the former in bright daylight." What does that mean? Perhaps it suggests a different standard, a more direct and transparent relationship with the Divine.

Balaam goes on: "Israel is a separate people, alone they enjoy the blessings God gives them, no other nation rejoices with Israel." It’s a powerful image of a people receiving blessings tailored specifically for them.

And this separateness, this unique connection to the Divine, extends even into the Messianic age. "So too in the Messianic time Israel will quite alone rejoice in delights and pleasures, whereas in the present world it may also partake of the universal welfare of the nations." Even in a future of universal peace and prosperity, Israel will have a unique and distinct joy, a separate portion of blessing.

So, what does all this mean for us today? Does it mean we should isolate ourselves? Absolutely not. But perhaps it’s a reminder to cherish the unique aspects of our heritage, to find strength in our traditions, and to recognize the enduring covenant that connects us to something far greater than ourselves. It's a reminder that being different, being unique, can be a source of incredible strength and blessing.

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Legends of the Jews 1:454Legends of the Jews

That’s where the Legends of the Jews, compiled by Louis Ginzberg, comes in. It’s a treasure trove of stories, expanding on the biblical narrative in ways that are both fascinating and, sometimes, a little surprising.

Take Balaam, for instance. We know him as the prophet hired to curse the Israelites, but who ends up blessing them instead. But what happened to him after that dramatic episode? According to Ginzberg, he didn't just fade away. He fled to Egypt. Yes, that Egypt.

Can you imagine? Balaam, the non-Jewish prophet with supernatural powers, arriving in the land of the Pharaohs. And not as a fugitive, but as a VIP! Ginzberg tells us that he was received "with great demonstrations of honor by the king and all the nobles." Apparently, Pharaoh had heard about Balaam’s “exceeding great wisdom” and appointed him as a royal counselor. Balaam, advising the Egyptian king! It adds a whole new layer to his character, doesn't it?

Let's hop over to the kingdom of Edom. The Edomites, descendants of Esau, were neighbors and often rivals of the Israelites. The Bible mentions some of their kings in passing, but gives us little detail about their reigns. So, the Legends fill in the blanks.

After Samlah, the throne passed to Saul of Pethor. Now, this isn't the same King Saul who would later become the first king of Israel. This Saul, according to the tradition preserved by Ginzberg, was a "youth of surpassing beauty." And he reigned for a good long time – forty years! That's quite a stretch.

Following Saul, a king named Baal Hamon took the throne, ruling for thirty-eight years. And during his reign, something significant happened: the Moabites, who had been paying tribute to the Edomites since the time of Hadad, revolted and successfully threw off the yoke of Edomite rule. We know from the Bible that Moab and Israel were often at odds, and this little tidbit from the Legends gives us a glimpse into the wider political landscape of the ancient Near East. It's a reminder that the Israelites weren't the only players on the stage; there were other nations, other power struggles, all unfolding alongside the biblical narrative.

What's the takeaway? It's that the Bible, as rich and complex as it is, is just the starting point. There's a whole world of tradition, interpretation, and storytelling that surrounds it, enriching its meaning and bringing its characters to life in unexpected ways. These stories remind us that history isn’t just about dates and names, but about the people, their struggles, and the choices they made. And those choices, as we see in the case of Balaam and the kings of Edom, continue to resonate through the ages.

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