During
the rush of getting children ready for camp, shopping for camp, packing for
camp, and the thousands of things that we parents do in sending our children to
camp, my attention was not only upon my kids and getting them ready for camp.
My attention and my focus had turned westward towards Santa Clara, California,
on the outskirts of San Francisco. And then began drifting eastward towards
Chicago’s Soldier Field Stadium. While I physically was and will be unable to
physically be in either of those locations, friends will be there and I
certainly will be there via the internet as I watch the last five concerts that
the Grateful Dead perform. The Santa Clara shows occurred early in the week and
the Chicago Shows will occur over the July 4th weekend. My children
sensed that I was distracted and wondered why. So on Saturday night and again
on Monday, I made my kids sit down with me and watch two Grateful Dead concerts
streaming onto my computer. While it
wasn’t exactly like being there and soaking in the “scene”; for my kids it
would have to do. They heard songs
played that until then only existed on my I pod; they listened to lyrics that
were far more interesting than the stuff they listen to. They watched grown men
a few of whom are nearly their grandfather’s age, a few of whom are
approximately my age play music; entertain a 100,000 people each night. They
saw people in the audience their sister’s age, in their early twenties, their parents'
age and approaching their grandparents' age, dancing and having a great
time. Our kids started to dance and
watch. All the stress of running around
getting ready for camp, all their anxiety about camp, soon left us. For a
little while, no one had a care, no one had a concern; there was only the
moment. During the intermission, the
kids were getting ready for bed and they comment on how much they liked the
concert and the music. They noticed that they were enjoying the moment, that
they were in the moment. Ever the Rabbi and the father, I explained that that
is exactly how it is supposed to be when performing and observing Mitzvot. We
are supposed to be in the moment, for however long that moment lasts. I may
last as long as lighting Shabbat Candles or it may last as long as sitting in
shul on Shabbat morning. The object is to enjoy and celebrate that moment just
like they did during the first set.
This
Shabbat we read from Parsha Balak. B’nai Yisroel has arrived on the eastern
shore of the Jordan River and are waiting to enter into the Eretz Canaan. Balak,
the king of Moab and the tribe of Midian have heard of B’nai Yisroel's recent
victories against the Edomites and the Amalekites, and they are scared.
Realizing that warfare doesn’t work against B’nai Yisroel, Balak decides to
invoke the spiritual world and figures that a curse would have a better result.
So Balak hires Balaam to curse B’nai Yisroel. On three separate occasions, Balaam
tries to curse B’nai Yisroel as he had been hired to do. However with each
attempt to curse comes a blessing. Well needless to say, Balak is infuriated as
he realizes that no prophet, no soothsayer is capable of cursing Israel.
Rather, the only way to defeat Israel is to lure them away from their values,
their behavior, and their study of Torah.
The Talmudic sages, and the Meforshim, the classical
medieval commentators including Rashi, explain that Balaam was a prophet. He
was described as the Moshe of his people, the Midianites and the Moabites. When messengers of Balak try to hire him on
behalf of Balak to curse B'nai Yisroel, he explicitly states that they should
remain with him until Yidabeir Hashem
Eilai – God speaks to me. Indeed, God speaks to Balaam, but he ignores God.
He eventually accepts Balak’s offer and heads off on his donkey towards where B'nai
Yisroel have made camp. Along the way,
the donkey stops walking sensing that something is wrong. An angel of God is
standing in the way wielding a sword. Balaam urges the donkey forward, but the
donkey won’t move and in fact speaks to Balaam. Finally during the surreal
moment of a man speaking to a donkey urging it to move forward, the Torah tells
us VaYiGaL Adoshem et Einei Balaam VaYar
et Malach Hashem Nitzav BaDerech V’Charbo Shlufa B’Yado VaYikot VaYishtachu
L’Apav – Then Hashem uncovered Balaam’s
eyes and he saw the angel of Hashem standing on the road with this sward drawn
in his hand. He bowed his head and prostrated himself on his face (Num
22:31). If Balaam was described as a prophet, doesn’t that imply that his eyes
are already “uncovered” meaning he always has access to the spiritual world?
Prior to his journey, Balaam already told the messengers that God would visit
him and indeed, God did visit him. Clearly Balaam has knowledge of God and even
knows that he enjoys a certain degree of access since he knows when he will be
visited. Yet here, his own donkey could see what Balaam could not see without
the help of God uncovering his eyes. Rambam, Rabbi Moses Ben Maimon (a 13th
Century Spanish doctor, commentator of Torah, Talmud and Philosopher) clarifies
this apparent contradiction. Balaam was
a sorcerer and not a prophet. The
prophecies and blessing that he offered later on behalf of B’nai Yisroel was a
temporary aberration that God granted him only to bless Israel. Upon his
return, we never hear of Balaam offering prophecy again. But for one brief moment, he transcended his
own base existence and existence and experienced something transcendent.
People, who are perceived to be incredibly
religious, observant or spiritual, yearn to hear God, and experience God’s
presence like those who might be perceived to be less so. Such people would
probably be jealous of Balaam. Yet Balaam
teaches us all something about being able to achieve those transcendent
moments. First it can happen to anyone.
Second, we need to be open to possibility of transcendence, the
possibility of being in a moment, not as a base physical being, but as a
spiritual being. It can happened while riding a donkey, it can happen during a
Grateful Dead concert, it can happen while celebrating Shabbat, or in any act
of kindness towards another. Watching my
kids sing and dance, and see the worry and anxiety leave their faces; reminded me of seeing the Grateful Dead 30
years before singing, dancing and having
the anxiety and worries leave me.
Peace
Rav
Yitz