Let's dive in.
The text opens with a quote from Numbers 22:2: "Balak son of Tzipor saw all that Israel had done to the Emorites." This sets the stage for a larger discussion about divine justice and fairness. "Balak son of Tzipor saw," the Midrash repeats, then connects it to a verse from Deuteronomy 32:4: "The Rock, His actions are perfect, as all His ways are justice." But how do we reconcile this idea of perfect justice with the obvious inequalities we see in the world?
The Midrash poses a powerful question: Did the Holy One, blessed be He, give the nations of the world a fair chance? Did God stack the deck in favor of Israel? The answer, according to Bamidbar Rabbah, is a resounding no. God didn't want any nation to be able to claim, "You distanced us." So, what did God do?
The Midrash argues that God mirrored the leadership and opportunities given to Israel with corresponding figures for other nations. "Just as He established kings, sages, and prophets for Israel, so He established for the idolaters." Think about it: Solomon, with all his wisdom and power, had a counterpart in Nebuchadnezzar. David amassed wealth to build a Temple, while Haman used his wealth to try and annihilate an entire people. Every rise in prominence for Israel seemed to have a parallel rise somewhere else.
Perhaps the most striking example is the comparison between Moses and Bilam. Moses, the ultimate prophet of Israel, is juxtaposed with Bilam, a prophet from the nations. But here's where the crucial difference lies. According to Bamidbar Rabbah, the prophets of Israel constantly cautioned the Israelites against transgression. As Ezekiel 33:7 says, "You, Son of man, I have appointed you as a sentinel for the house of Israel. You shall hear a matter from My mouth and you shall warn them from Me." The role of the Jewish prophet was to guide their own people toward righteousness.
Bilam, however, "established a breach in order to eliminate people from the world." He plotted to corrupt Israel (as the commentaries explain). The Jewish prophets, even while addressing other nations, showed compassion. Jeremiah lamented for Moab in Jeremiah 48:36: "Therefore, my heart will sigh like flutes for Moav." Ezekiel mourned for Tyre in Ezekiel 27:2: "You, son of man, raise a lament for Tyre." But Bilam, the Midrash says, was cruel, willing to uproot an entire nation without cause.
This contrast is vital. It illuminates why, according to the Midrash, the Divine Spirit was removed from the idolaters. Because a figure like Bilam arose from among them, and look at what he did! The portion of Bilam, the Midrash concludes, serves as a cautionary tale, showing the consequences of misusing power and rejecting compassion.
So, what does this all mean for us today? Bamidbar Rabbah challenges us to consider the responsibilities that come with leadership and influence, no matter who we are or where we come from. It reminds us that true greatness lies not in power or dominance, but in the use of that power for good, for justice, and for compassion. It suggests that the choices we make, as individuals and as nations, ultimately determine the kind of world we create.