Balak had a problem. He was the King of Moab and he saw that more than half a million able-bodied Israelites were about to enter his territory. He was terrified that they would wipe away his resources and pose a military threat to his rule. Naturally, he hired a prophet, Balaam, to come and put a curse on them. (Isn't that what you would do?):

"Now, please go and curse these people for me, for they are too strong for me. Then, perhaps, I will prevail, strike them down, and drive them from the land. For I know that whomever you bless is blessed, and whomever you curse is cursed." (Numbers 22:6)

As you probably know, this plan backfired badly for Balak. From the beginning, Balaam told him that he could only say the words that God put in his mouth. The prophecy that Balaam spoke upon Israel was not a curse, but a blessing.

So here's a question: If you had a prophet in your employ whom you believed had the power to bless and curse effectively, would you ask that prophet to curse your enemies, or would you ask the prophet to bless you?

A commentary on this week's Torah portion (Balak) asks just this question. "Would it not have made more sense for Balak to ask Balaam to bless Moab with victory in battle?" asks the commentary of Beit Ramah. "We learn from this that the essential intention of Israel’s enemies is not to seek their own benefit, but to harm Israel. Their anger at Israel does not flow from love of their own people, but hatred of Israel."  (Itturei Torah, Vol. 5, p. 141).

I will leave it to you, dear reader, to evaluate how well that observation reflects the history of antisemitism and the current situation of the State of Israel. You may believe that Beit Ramah has a keen insight about Israel's antagonists in the past and in the present. However, I want to consider instead what this commentary says about each of us. 

Who would you rather be — a person who puts energy into building up his or her own self, or a person who puts energy into tearing others down? Are you a person whose primary motivation comes from the desire to create love and connection in your own life, or a person who is primarily interested in knocking down opponents?

We all have a place within us that would rather draw on the energy created by our animosities than the energy of our better natures. We all have an impulse to spend our time in conflict with the people and things that trouble us, instead of investing that time in building connections to people we care about and developing our strengths. Each of us, sometimes, lets the cursing impulse rule us.

At such times, though, we usually fail to notice that the choice to pursue conflict almost always backfires. Think about the last time you put your energy into fighting against someone or something you defined as your "enemy." Was the outcome what you had hoped for? Did the problem go away, or did it just reappear in another form? Did the experience create joy in your life, or did it just make you feel angrier?

In contrast, when we put our focus on blessing instead of curse, we become more connected, compassionate and happier. When we face conflicts by looking inward for the ability to deal with difficult situations, we may find that resolution comes more easily than when we begin by assuming the worst about others. It also makes us feel better about ourselves and helps us to find unexpected solutions. I don't think there is any guarantee that this will happen every time, but it usually works.

Personally, I find this to be true when I face difficult classroom management situations as a teacher. Instead of assuming that misbehaving students are malicious brats, I try to focus instead on myself. I ask questions about my behavior as a teacher: Am I giving students material that is appropriate for them? Are they misbehaving because I am not meeting their needs? Because I am not recognizing their abilities and limitations? Am I boring them? By seeking the blessing of being a better teacher — instead of cursing the bad behavior of the students — I find greater fulfillment and greater success in the classroom.

It is easy for adult teachers to see children in a classroom as innocents, unworthy of our anger. Harder situations come when we feel like we are being treated badly or that we are being taken advantage of in a business setting or the realm of politics. There are times when we really can believe that we are in conflict with people who do not respect us and who do not wish us well. I will argue, though, that even in those situations, we are better off when we focus on blessing and not curse. 

This is not because there aren't real causes for conflict in life and it is not because there are no real enemies. However, when we fight against enemies, real or imagined, our fuel is our fear and our anger. When we draw energy from those feelings, they begin to define us. An unremitting focus on conflict and enmity tends to turn us into the very thing we find fearful and enraging in others. Our anger makes us contentious, belligerent, unfriendly, unkind, unyielding and unhappy.

That is the lesson that the State of Israel has learned in dealing with its sometimes belligerent neighbors. It is better to focus on taking care of ourselves and our loved ones than to waste breath on cursing and fearing those whose opinions and behaviors we cannot change. If we must fight, let's fight for ourselves, not against enemies.

As Balak learned, God does not always respond well when we seek to curse our enemies. However, when we take the time and energy to look inward, to redefine the problem in a way that includes our own behavior, and to confront our own anger and fears, we find blessings where once before we only saw a curse.


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Balak: Seeing God's Image in Our Enemies

While Balaam is on the way to Balak, God sends an angel to warn him against cursing the Israelites. Balaam cannot see the angel in front of him (some prophet he turns out to be), but his donkey does (!). Balaam beats the animal when it stops in the middle of the road before the angel. God gives the donkey the power of speech to explain himself to Balaam, but Balaam still doesn't get it. Finally, God opens Balaam's eyes, he sees the angel, and realizes his folly.

When Balaam finally reaches the place where the Israelites are camped, he instructs Balak to build seven altars and offer seven bulls and seven rams (a very expensive undertaking in the middle of the desert). Balaam then stands before Balak surrounded by all his dignitaries and proceeds to bless the Israelites instead of cursing them. The same thing happens three more times, each time Balak is enraged, but each time he keeps asking Balaam to curse the Israelites. The same result happens each time and the story begins to look like a Marx Brothers movie. (Why does the straight guy keep trusting Groucho?)

The story seems like a bit of comic relief in the final chapter of Numbers. It is the only story in the book that takes place entirely outside of the Israelite camp. The characters of Balaam and Balak seem familiar, even today, as comic icons. Balaam is the supposed "miracle man" who cannot see even the miracles right in front of his nose. Balak is the egotistical authority figure who allows himself to be fooled by the same mishap time after time.

Yet, the story has some serious undertones. We wonder, Why is this story in the Torah? What does it teach? Why was Balaam unable to curse Israel? 

According to various traditions, Balaam is either a Moabite or an Ammonite—a member of a nation that is an enemy of Israel. If you can’t curse your enemies, who can you curse?

Balaam, according to the story was prevented from cursing Israel by God, who placed words of blessing in his mouth instead of the curses that Balak wanted. In one rabbinic interpretation, Balaam could not place an effective curse on Israel because the name "Israel" contains the word "El," one of God’s names. To curse Israel would be to curse God, the source of blessing. God is, so to speak, within Israel.

Jewish tradition also offers a more universal teaching around this theme. In the first chapter of Genesis, God created the first human being, “Betzelem Elohim,” that is, “In the image of God.” Rabbi Akivah therefore taught, “One who sheds blood is regarded as though he had impaired God's image, for Scripture says, 'God made the human being in the image of God” (Genesis Rabbah 34:14). One who would strike another human being with words or with weapons strikes out against God. In some moment of clarity, Balaam recognized that he could not curse Israel without cursing God.

The comedy of the story—a foreign king who seeks to curse the Israelites through a prophet who is loyal to the God of Israel—is also recognizable in modern-day tragedies. How often do we see people warring against each other and killing other human beings in the name of a God who loves all of humanity?

It is so easy to define another human being as an enemy. It is so easy to project evil onto others and thereby justify inflicting harm on them. There may be times when war is justified as a necessary evil to prevent even greater evils from occurring. All too often, though, war is a self-justifying act that serves no greater purpose than to assert the power of the aggressor. 

When we use our power to cause harm, we have to be absolutely certain that we know where we stand morally, lest we treat an image of God as if it were evil. That is not just a moral failing, it is a tragedy for all of humanity and for humanity's relationship with God.

Furthermore, this is not just a concern of warfare. It is a problems that effects each of us on an individual level and in the civic discourse of our society. Any time we allow ourselves to see other people as an “enemy,” and thereby justify inflicting harm against them, we have failed to see the "El" within those people. Even people whom we find very difficult, or even malicious, have some spark of divinity within them. Whenever we wish ill on others, we are guilty of impairing God’s image.

Consider this in the way you act when you are angry, when you are exasperated with a spouse or a child, or frustrated by a customer, a service provider or a colleague. Think of it when you are tempted to use sarcasm or derisive humor to attack people whose opinions you reject. Use that moment as a spiritual exercise. Force yourself to see the other person as an image of the Divine, to find the name of God swallowed up within that person. 

Notice how that intention transforms the way you respond to people whom you think of as "enemies," before the cruel humor turns into tragedy.


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