4 min read

Balaam Thought God Did Not Know the Men in His House

God asked who the men with him were. The question sounded like a neighbor catching up. Balaam filed it as a gap he could use.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Question in the Night
  2. He Built a Plan From the Gap
  3. God Stepped Aside
  4. Adam Reached for the Same Corner
  5. The Path He Chose

God came to Balaam at night and asked a question.

Balaam Thought God Did Not Know the Men in His House Click for full size

"What men are these with thee?"

The Question in the Night

The men were still in the house. Balak's messengers. Moab's gold in their bags. The question had the sound of a neighbor who had missed the start of a conversation.

Balaam heard it that way. He thought God's knowledge had gaps.

He Built a Plan From the Gap

He stood in the dark and ran it through. God does not know who these men are. If God does not know who these men are, then things happen on earth outside His notice. If there are such moments, then in one of them a curse can be spoken over Israel without being seen. I can find the gap and use it.

That thought, not the seven altars later, is what closed on him. A prophet whose gift was hearing God had just decided God could not hear everything.

He answered the question as a man filling in a stranger. He named the messengers. He named the errand. He did not say, "You know." He performed. In the silence after the performance he kept the plan.

God Stepped Aside

The question had not been a request for information. God knew the men. God knew why they had come. God knew the calculation still warm in Balaam's mouth.

The first night He had said, "Thou shalt not go with them." Balaam did not relinquish the wish. The second time God said, "If the men be come to call thee, rise up, go with them. Only the word which I speak unto thee, that shalt thou do."

"I take no pleasure in the destruction of sinners, but if thou art bound to go to thy destruction, do so."

Balaam heard the permission as a change of mind. He told himself the "curse them not" would flip the same way. He saddled the she-ass and went. Audacity had pulled a yes out of heaven. The yes was the ditch.

Adam Reached for the Same Corner

In the garden Adam had done this first. The tree stood in the middle. The command was one sentence. He reached anyway, as if a corner of Eden were unwatched, as if a mouthful could be taken in a gap of knowledge.

God asked, "Where art thou?" (Genesis 3:9)

Adam hid. The fruit was already in him. Death entered the world on the back of that hiding. Later Israel would stand and say, "Are You not from ancient times, Lord my God, my Holy One? We will not die." God would not take death back. "You set them for judgment."

Balaam was walking the same corner. He had more evidence than Adam. He had heard God twice in one house. He read both hearings wrong.

The Path He Chose

The magicians Balak sent had already decided, by their own lore, that Balaam would accept. They were as confused as he was when the word shifted from stay to go. God lets a man go upon the way he chooses to go. Balaam chose.

He went toward Moab sure there were hours when God was not looking. The ass saw the angel first, standing in the road with a drawn sword, occupying the gap Balaam had counted on. Three times the animal turned. Three times he beat her. Then her mouth opened, and the gap closed.

He had built a whole plan on a night question. The road did not have a blind spot. It had an angel in it.

BalaamGodProphecySinDivine KnowledgeNumbers
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From the tradition

Sources

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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Legends of the Jews 6:16Legends of the Jews

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg (1909) · Public Domain

It turns out, this struggle isn't just a modern dilemma. Ancient Jewish texts confront this very tension: How much control do we really have over our choices, and how much does God allow us to stray?

The story of Balaam is a fascinating example. Balaam, a non-Israelite prophet, is hired by Balak, the king of Moab, to curse the Israelites. It’s a tale rife with intrigue, divine intervention, and a whole lot of stubbornness.

Initially, God tells Balaam point-blank, "Thou shalt not go with them" (Numbers 22:12). But Balaam, oh, he's persistent. He clearly wants to go to Balak, lured by the promise of riches and power. So, what does God do? The text says, "God permits man to go upon the way he chooses to go." The second time God appears to Balaam, He says, "If the men be come to call thee, rise up, go with them; but only the word which I speak unto thee, that shalt thou do" (Numbers 22:20).

Wait, what? A divine U-turn?

The rabbis of the Talmud and Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) have wrestled with this for centuries. Why the apparent change of heart? Was God testing Balaam? Testing Balak? Or is something deeper at play?

One interpretation, found throughout rabbinic literature, is that God allows us to make our own mistakes. It’s a painful, sometimes destructive freedom, but freedom nonetheless. God doesn't always prevent us from stumbling. As the texts emphasize, sometimes, we're given enough rope to… well, you know.

The idea that "audacity prevails even before God" is a powerful one. Balaam's relentless insistence, according to the tradition, essentially wrested consent from God. But this wasn't a blessing, it was a warning. God essentially says, "I take no pleasure in the destruction of sinners, but if thou are bound to go to thy destruction, do so! Whosoever leads righteous men astray upon an evil way, will fall into the ditch of his own digging!"

Ouch. Talk about foreshadowing.

The story takes a darker turn, exploring how Balaam’s own arrogance blinded him. Midrash Rabbah suggests that when God first asked Balaam, "What men are these with thee?" (Numbers 22:9), Balaam, in his hubris, thought, "God know them not. It seems clear that there are times when He is not aware of what goes on, and I shall now be able to do with His children as I wish."

The audacity!

According to Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, Balaam was also misled by God because he had previously used his words to seduce people who had lived in purity. This detail adds another layer of complexity, suggesting that Balaam's past actions influenced God's interaction with him.

The apparent shift in God's instructions, first prohibiting, then permitting, completely confused Balaam. He thought, "God at first said to me, 'Go thou not with them,' but the second time He said, 'Go with them.' So too will He change His words, 'Curse them not,' into 'Curse them.'"

This confusion wasn't limited to Balaam. The magicians sent by Balak were equally bewildered. Initially, their magic indicated Balaam would accept the invitation, but God made him decline. Then, their magic predicted he wouldn't accept, and God made him obey the summons! It's a chaotic dance of free will, divine intervention, and misinterpretation.

So, what are we to make of this confusing and somewhat unsettling story? Is it about the limits of free will? The dangers of unchecked ambition? Or perhaps it's a cautionary tale about the importance of listening, really listening, to the divine voice within, rather than projecting our own desires onto the universe.

Maybe the most profound lesson is that God allows us to choose, even when those choices lead us down a dangerous path. The consequences, however, are still our own. And sometimes, the ditch we dig is the one we ultimately fall into.

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Shemot Rabbah 38:2Shemot Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Our tradition grapples with it head-on.

Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, offers a fascinating take on this very issue, drawing us back to Adam and the fateful Tree of Knowledge.

" But what is the matter? The text cleverly links it to a verse from Habakkuk (1:12): "Are You not from ancient times, Lord my God, my Holy One? We will not die." Before Adam ate from the Tree, the implication is, death wasn't necessarily a given. The text suggests that had Adam simply refrained from eating, he – and perhaps we – would have been immortal. "Let him not eat from the tree and he will not die," it states.

Of course, he did eat. And that changed everything.

Because he violated God's command, death entered the picture. As the text says, "You brought death upon him to smite people." Or, as some suggest the text should read, to admonish. Either way, the consequence was profound. The verse from Habakkuk continues, "Lord, You set them for judgment." This implies death became a form of divine judgment.

So, where does that leave us?

The passage then presents a kind of argument with the Divine. "Master of the universe, if you want us to be sacred, rid us of death," the text pleads, again quoting Habakkuk: "Are You not from ancient times, Lord my God, my Holy One? We will not die."

It’s a powerful request, a yearning for that lost immortality, for that untainted connection with the Divine. The desire to be truly kadosh, holy, and free from the shadow of mortality.

But the response? A firm, unyielding "It is impossible." Death, it seems, is a decree, a judgment that cannot be revoked. "Lord, You set them for judgment."

It's a tough pill to swallow.

So, what are we left with? Is this just a bleak acceptance of mortality? Perhaps not. Maybe it’s an invitation to consider what it means to live a sacred life within the confines of our mortality. If death is inevitable, then how do we make our lives, our actions, truly meaningful? How do we sanctify our time here, knowing it's finite? Perhaps the answer lies not in avoiding death, but in how we choose to live before it arrives.

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