Parshat Balak
Numbers 22:2 – 25:9 

By Jen Smith 

Parshat Balak is one of the Torah’s most surprising stories. A Moabite king, Balak, hires Balaam, a sort of “prophet-for-hire” to curse the Israelites. Balaam sets out to fulfill the mission, but things don’t exactly go as planned. Instead of curses, blessings pour from Balaam’s mouth. Repeatedly, he tries and tries to speak curses, but instead, out of his mouth come blessing and beauty: Mah tovu ohalecha Yaakov – How goodly are your tents, O’ Jacob… Words that will, generations later, become part of our daily prayer. 

This portion is all about intentions and outcomes, the limits of human control, and the surprising places where we can find holiness. It’s also a deeply mystical, and hilarious, really, because on the road to Moab, something wild happens: Balaam’s donkey suddenly sees an angel that even Balaam himself cannot perceive. 

It’s easy to laugh at that scene. A talking donkey and a prophet blinded to divine truth while his beast of burden sees clearly. In Jewish mysticism, this moment is anything but comic. The great Chasidic masters and Kabbalists read this episode as a mirror: Balaam represents Ego – seeking power, recognition, and control. The donkey, in contrast, represents humility, self-possession, instinct, and a strong (if invisible) connection to the divine and unseen.  The first lesson we encounter sets the stage: Sometimes the most rational among us are the most blind; and sometimes, the humblest of voices, the ones often ignored, are the ones who perceive the divine. 

In our modern lives, we are often like Balaam; busy, driven to support ourselves and our loved ones. We try to maintain control of everything from our calendars to our careers, reputations, and even our spirituality. Is it any wonder that in our rush to control, we miss the very angel appearing in our path? Are we so consumed with what we want to say, prove, post, or project that we actually forget how to see? 

Mystics teach that reality is so much more than what is visible. There are layers to the physical world and spiritual realm: p’shat (literal), remez (hint), drash (interpretation), and sod (secret). Most of us live in p’shat, the world of what we can touch and tweet. But beneath the surface is sod, the unknowable presence of the divine, pulsing quietly through every blade of grass, every encounter and experience, and every twist in the road. 

Balak tried to manipulate the future and Balaam tried to control the narrative…but God had other plans. As a result, not a single curse lands – a spiritual Iron Dome! Instead, one of the most beautiful blessings in the entire Torah emerges from a place of enmity. And maybe that’s the message for our time. 

We live in a world filled to the brim with the noise of judgment, division, suspicion, and fear. But beneath it all, the spiritual truth remains that goodness, blessing, and divine sparks can and do emerge from even the most unlikely places. 

Ultimately, Parshat Balak asks us to consider our words and our intentions: do we speak curses or blessings? Are our words weapons or healers? When faced with enemies (real or imagined), do you close yourself off, or do you open to the possibility of surprise?  

Balaam tried to curse the Israelites, but instead, words of blessing were put into his mouth. In Jewish mysticism, this reflects the idea that sometimes, when we make enough space, God finds a way to speak through us. Parshat Balak reminds us that there is holiness unfolding within the murkiest chaos. That even our enemies might become unwitting allies. That our attempts to control the story often pale in comparison to what the Divine is trying to unfold through us. 

When we walk through this world – through its beauty, wonder, politics, and pain – can we become like Balaam’s donkey, stopping long enough to see the angel appearing right before our eyes? 

This Shabbat, may our words bring love and light during a chaotic time of thunderous storms (literally and metaphorically!)  May our eyes be opened to the mystery in our midst, and may our mouths work just like Balaam’s – ever filled with the blessings the world is longing to hear. 

Shabbat Shalom.