Numbers 23

Shalom, chaverim! My amazing camp-alums, it is so good to gather 'round our virtual campfire tonight. Can you almost smell the s’mores? Feel the warmth of the fire on your face? That gentle hum of anticipation for a story, a song, a moment of connection? Tonight, we’re diving into a Torah portion that feels like it was written for a campfire story – full of drama, unexpected twists, and big, beautiful lessons that we can carry right back into our homes and hearts.

Hook

Remember those camp songs we’d sing, sometimes with actions, sometimes just swaying, arm-in-arm? One that always stuck with me, especially when things weren't going quite as planned, was the classic:

(Sing-able line, simple tune like "The More We Get Together") "Oh, trying hard, trying hard, that’s what we do, But sometimes, oh sometimes, God has a different view!"

It's a little silly, I know, but it perfectly captures the spirit of our text tonight. We're going to meet a king and a prophet who had very clear plans, very strong intentions, and very specific outcomes they were trying to achieve. They tried so hard! And yet, what transpired was completely, wonderfully, unexpectedly, divinely different. It’s a story about trying to manipulate, about trying to curse, and about how, sometimes, the greatest blessings emerge when we realize we're not fully in control. It's about seeing the inherent good, even when we're looking for the bad.

Context

Let’s set the scene, friends. Imagine you’re hiking up a really steep mountain trail. You’re pushing, you’re sweating, you’re focused on the summit. You have a specific goal in mind – maybe it’s to get the perfect panoramic photo, or to prove to yourself you can do it. But what if, when you get to the top, the view isn’t what you expected? Or, even wilder, what if the mountain itself changes your perspective on your goal? That’s kind of what’s happening in Numbers Chapter 23.

• A Desperate King and a Powerful Prophet: We're in the wilderness, and the Israelites are on the cusp of entering the Promised Land. This makes a certain King Balak of Moab super nervous. He sees this massive, powerful people, and he’s terrified. So, what does he do? He hires the most renowned, most potent prophet/sorcerer of his time, a man named Balaam, to curse them. Balak thinks if he can just get a good, strong curse on Israel, his problems will be solved. He wants to use spiritual power as a weapon.
• Balaam's Complicated Commission: Balaam is not Jewish, but he does have a direct line to God – a complicated, morally ambiguous line, but a line nonetheless. He initially tries to refuse Balak’s offer, but after some divine prompting (and a talking donkey, if you remember the previous chapter!), he agrees to go, but with a crucial caveat: he can only speak the words that God puts in his mouth. Balak, in his desperation, hears what he wants to hear and brings Balaam to a series of vantage points overlooking the Israelite camp. He’s convinced that if Balaam just gets the right angle, the right view, he can unleash the curse.
• The Unchanging Landscape of Divine Will: Think of it like a beautiful, wild forest. No matter how many different spots you stand in, no matter how many trees you try to move, the essence of the forest—its deep roots, its sprawling canopy, its wild inhabitants—remains. You might see a different part of it, but you can’t change what it is. Balak believes that if Balaam just views the Israelites from a different angle, or only sees "a portion" of them, he can find the chink in their spiritual armor. But God’s blessing on Israel is like that forest: a deep, rooted, unshakeable reality, regardless of where Balaam stands or what Balak tries to manipulate.

Text Snapshot

So, Balaam is brought to his first spot, overlooking the Israelite camp. Balak builds seven altars – an act meant to conjure powerful spiritual forces – and sacrifices are made. Balaam goes off alone, God meets him, and puts words in his mouth. He returns to Balak, who is waiting with bated breath for the curse. And this is what Balaam says:

From Aram has Balak brought me, Moab’s king from the hills of the East: Come, curse me Jacob, Come, tell Israel’s doom! How can I damn whom God has not damned, How doom when GOD has not doomed? As I see them from the mountain tops, Gaze on them from the heights, There is a people that dwells apart, Not reckoned among the nations, Who can count the dust of Jacob, Number the dust-cloud of Israel? May I die the death of the upright, May my fate be like theirs!

Balak is, understandably, furious! “What have you done to me? Here I brought you to damn my enemies, and instead you have blessed them!”

Balaam replies, “I can only repeat faithfully what GOD puts in my mouth.”

Balak, not giving up, says, “Come with me to another place from which you can see them—you will see only a portion of them; you will not see all of them—and damn them for me from there.”

So they go to a new spot, Sedeh-zophim (Lookout Point), on the summit of Pisgah. More altars, more sacrifices. Balaam goes off, God meets him again, puts more words in his mouth. He returns to Balak, who asks, “What did GOD say?”

And Balaam takes up his theme again:

Up, Balak, attend, Give ear unto me, son of Zippor! God is not human to be capricious, Or mortal to have a change of heart. Would [God] speak and not act, Promise and not fulfill? My message was to bless: When [God] blesses, I cannot reverse it. No harm is in sight for Jacob, No woe in view for Israel. The ETERNAL their God is with them, And their Sovereign’s acclaim in their midst. God who freed them from Egypt Is for them like the horns of the wild ox. Lo, there is no augury in Jacob, No divining in Israel: Jacob is told at once, Yea Israel, what God has planned. Lo, a people that rises like a lioness, Leaps up like a lion, Rests not till it has feasted on prey
And drunk the blood of the slain.

Can you feel Balak’s exasperation?! He tells Balaam, “Don’t curse them and don’t bless them!” But Balaam reminds him, “Whatever GOD says, that I must do.” And still, Balak tries one more time, taking Balaam to the peak of Peor. The stage is set for a third attempt.

Close Reading

Wow, what a rollercoaster! This isn't just an ancient story; it’s a master class in perspective, intention, and divine intervention. It’s a story about realizing that sometimes, the best thing we can do is get out of the way and let the blessings unfold. Let's dig into two big lessons we can take from this campfire and carry right into our family lives.

Insight 1: You Can't Manipulate the Divine Plan (No Matter How Many Altars You Build!)

Okay, so Balaam and Balak are building these elaborate altars, seven of them, offering bulls and rams. This isn't just for show. As Ramban and Ibn Ezra teach us, the number seven holds deep mystical significance. It represents completeness, cycles of time (seven days in a week), and spiritual emanations. Balaam is trying to tap into something powerful, to create the perfect conditions to influence God’s will, to force a particular outcome. He's performing a spiritual ritual with extreme precision, believing he can direct the flow of divine energy toward a curse.

Think about it: Balaam goes off alone, saying, "Perhaps G-D will grant me a manifestation, and whatever is revealed to me I will tell you." He’s setting up the scene, making the offerings, doing all the right actions, with the intention to get a specific message: a curse. He's saying, "I have prepared the seven altars with the perfect number of sacrifices; may they come up with acceptance on Your altar," as Ramban explains, almost as a prayer to force God’s hand. He's trying to steer the prophecy.

But what happens? God does become manifest. God does put a word in his mouth. But it’s not the word Balaam intended, and certainly not the word Balak wanted! It’s a blessing. Balaam, the expert in spiritual manipulation, finds himself a conduit for the opposite of his intention. He explicitly states, "How can I damn whom God has not damned, How doom when G-D has not doomed?" And later, "My message was to bless: When [God] blesses, I cannot reverse it."

This is huge, camp-alums! It teaches us that God’s plan, God’s inherent blessing for Israel (and by extension, for all of creation), is not something that can be manipulated or reversed by human actions, no matter how elaborate the ritual, how perfectly placed the altars, or how strong the desire for a different outcome. God’s will is not capricious; it’s steadfast. "God is not human to be capricious, Or mortal to have a change of heart. Would [God] speak and not act, Promise and not fulfill?" This isn't a God who can be swayed or tricked or forced.

Now, let's bring this home. How many times in our family lives do we become like Balaam (or Balak!), trying to force an outcome?

• The "Perfect" Family Moment: Maybe it’s planning a family vacation, a birthday party, or even just a Shabbat dinner. We have this perfect vision in our heads. We've built our "seven altars" – we’ve meticulously planned the menu, coordinated the outfits, curated the guest list, scheduled every minute. Our intention is for joy, harmony, and Instagram-worthy memories. We are trying to manifest a specific feeling, a specific outcome. But then… the kids argue, someone spills a drink, a relative makes an offhand comment, and suddenly our perfectly constructed "altars" feel like they’re crumbling. We get frustrated, angry, or disappointed because the reality isn't matching our manipulated ideal.
• Parenting with a Blueprint: Or think about parenting. We have such strong ideas about who our children should be, what they should achieve, what path they should follow. We enroll them in certain schools, sign them up for specific activities, gently (or not so gently) nudge them towards our vision of success. We are, in a sense, building "altars" for their future, offering up our time, resources, and hopes. We want them to be "this" or "that." But then, our children, beautiful, independent souls that they are, might choose a different path. They might struggle where we expected them to soar, or excel where we least expected it. They might develop personalities or interests that don't quite fit our carefully constructed blueprint. Our initial reaction might be frustration, fear, or a sense of failure. We tried to manipulate their journey, but life, and their own inherent spirit, often has a different plan.
• Relationship Expectations: In our partnerships, too, we can fall into this trap. We might have a clear idea of how our partner should behave, what they should say, how they should respond to us. We might try to subtly (or not so subtly) influence them, hoping to mold them into our ideal. We create mental "altars" of expectation. But people are not static; they grow and change, sometimes in ways that challenge our preconceived notions. When they don't conform to our "perfect sacrifices," we feel hurt or unseen.

The lesson from Balaam is profound: we can do all the right actions, perform all the rituals, and set all the intentions, but we cannot force God’s will, and we cannot force reality to conform to our desires. The blessings that are meant for us, for our families, for our children, are inherent. They are part of a larger divine tapestry, a plan that is often far more expansive and beautiful than anything we could have conceived.

What if, instead of trying to manipulate, we focused on receiving? What if we understood that sometimes, the "blessing" comes in a form we didn't expect, through a path we didn't choose, or even through the very "problems" we were trying to avoid? When Balaam says, "I can only repeat faithfully what G-D puts in my mouth," he's modeling a kind of spiritual surrender. It’s not about our plan; it’s about being open to the plan that is. This takes courage, vulnerability, and a profound trust in something larger than ourselves. It means stepping back from the need to control and leaning into the flow of life.

Insight 2: Changing Your Vantage Point Doesn't Change the Truth (But It Can Change How You See It!)

Balak, bless his stubborn heart, just cannot accept the first blessing. So, what does he do? He tries to change the conditions. "Come with me to another place from which you can see them—you will see only a portion of them; you will not see all of them—and damn them for me from there." He truly believes that if Balaam just gets a different view, the truth will shift. If Balaam only sees a part of Israel, maybe he'll see their flaws, their weaknesses, and then the curse will finally stick. He takes him to "Sedeh-zophim," which literally means "Lookout Point." He's looking for the perfect angle for a curse.

But again, what happens? God meets Balaam at the new lookout point, puts words in his mouth, and another blessing comes forth! "No harm is in sight for Jacob, No woe in view for Israel." The blessing is inherent; it's not dependent on the vantage point. Balaam sees them from the "mountain tops," gazes on them from the "heights," but what he sees is a "people that dwells apart, Not reckoned among the nations." He sees their unique, blessed status, their strength, their unshakeable connection to God.

This is a powerful lesson about perspective. Balak thinks the external view will change the internal reality. He thinks if he can just highlight the "portion" he dislikes, he can negate the whole. But the truth of Israel’s blessing, their unique relationship with God, remains constant, regardless of the angle, the distance, or the partial view. It's like looking at a magnificent tree from different sides. From one angle, you might see a broken branch. From another, a patch of blight. But the tree as a whole, its strength, its beauty, its rootedness, remains. You can't curse the tree by focusing only on its imperfections.

(Sing-able line/Niggun Suggestion): (To a simple, uplifting melody, repeat a few times) "No harm is in sight for Jacob, No woe in view for Israel! Hee-ya-ha, hee-ya-ha, no woe in view for Israel!"

Let's bring this wisdom into our homes and families, camp-alums. How often do we, like Balak, get stuck on a particular "vantage point" when looking at our loved ones or at a family situation?

• Focusing on the "Portion": Think about a challenging family dynamic. Maybe it’s a sibling rivalry that always flares up, a parent’s particular habit that annoys you, or a child’s phase of defiance. It’s so easy to get fixated on that "portion" – that one annoying habit, that one conflict, that one imperfection. We can stand on our "Sedeh-zophim," our personal "Lookout Point," and just zero in on the negative. When we do this, we miss the bigger picture. We miss the person’s inherent goodness, their love, their strengths, their unique contribution to the family fabric. We miss the deep, underlying blessing of having them in our lives.
  • For example, you might be frustrated by your teenager’s messy room (the "portion"). From that vantage point, you might feel annoyance, disrespect, or even anger. But if you shift your perspective, if you remember the whole person – their creativity, their kindness, their burgeoning independence, their laugh – the messiness, while still there, becomes just one aspect, not the defining characteristic. The inherent blessing of having them as your child doesn't change because of a messy room.
• The "Curse" of Comparison: Another way we get stuck on a faulty vantage point is through comparison. We look at other families, other kids, other partners, and we see what appears to be perfect (often just a curated "portion" they choose to show). From that lookout point, our own family might seem to fall short. We might feel cursed by our own challenges, our own imperfections. But the Torah reminds us that "there is a people that dwells apart, Not reckoned among the nations." Your family is unique. Your challenges are unique. Your blessings are unique. Trying to compare and "curse" your family by someone else’s (often idealized) standard is like Balak trying to curse Israel from a different peak. It doesn't change the truth of your family’s inherent blessings; it just distorts your ability to see them.
• The Power of Choosing Your Lens: Balaam’s oracles reveal a deep truth: the blessing is always there. "No harm is in sight for Jacob, No woe in view for Israel." It’s an inherent state. Our job isn't to create the blessing, but to perceive it. This means actively choosing our lens. When we encounter conflict or frustration at home, our immediate impulse might be to focus on the problem, the blame, the "curse." But what if we paused, took a deep breath, and consciously asked ourselves: "What is the blessing here that I am not seeing from my current vantage point?"
  • Perhaps the argument with your partner, while painful, is an opportunity for deeper communication and understanding. The "curse" of conflict can reveal the "blessing" of growth.
  • Perhaps your child’s challenging behavior, while frustrating, is a sign of their developing independence or a cry for a specific kind of attention they need. The "curse" of defiance might reveal the "blessing" of a strong will or a need for connection.
  • The messiness of life, the chaos, the unexpected detours – these can all be "curses" if we only focus on their inconvenience. But if we shift our perspective, they can become blessings of resilience, spontaneity, or deeper appreciation for the moments of peace.

The message is clear: Balak’s attempts to change the view, to see "only a portion," were futile because the blessing of Israel was an inherent, unchanging truth. Similarly, the blessings in our family lives are often inherent. Our challenges, our "flaws," our "portions" don’t negate the whole. We have the power, like Balaam (eventually), to align our perspective with the divine truth of blessing, rather than seeking out reasons to curse. It's about looking at your family, your home, your life, and training your eyes to see the "horns of the wild ox" – the strength, the resilience, the unique beauty – even amidst the dust and the daily grind. It’s about cultivating an "attitude of gratitude" that sees the blessing in the struggle, the love in the mess, the growth in the challenge.

Micro-Ritual

Okay, my wonderful camp-alums, let’s take this beautiful idea of shifting our perspective and recognizing inherent blessings and bring it right into our weekly rhythm. This week, let’s transform a moment of our Friday night Shabbat or Havdalah into a "Lookout Point" for blessing.

The Shabbat Blessing Gaze

For Friday night, as you gather around the Shabbat table, or even just before you light the candles, let's try something called "The Shabbat Blessing Gaze."

How to do it:

1. Preparation (A few minutes before Shabbat): Take a moment by yourself. Think about each person who will be at your Shabbat table, or each person in your immediate family. Mentally, or even quietly out loud, acknowledge any frustrations or "curses" you might have felt towards them during the week. Maybe it was an argument, a chore left undone, a difference of opinion. Just acknowledge it, without judgment. Now, consciously release it for a moment. Imagine setting it aside, like Balak's altars before Balaam spoke.
2. The Gaze (During Shabbat dinner/candle lighting): As you sit down for Shabbat dinner, or even as you light the candles, take a deliberate moment to look at each person at your table. It might feel a little awkward at first – we’re not always used to truly seeing each other with such intention. But as you look at them, silently, or softly to yourself, articulate a specific blessing you see in them. Not what they did for you this week, not what you want them to do, but an inherent quality or potential that is them.
   • For your child, instead of thinking about the messy room, think: "I bless your boundless energy and curiosity." Or "I bless your kind heart."
   • For your partner, instead of thinking about the unwashed dishes, think: "I bless your strength and unwavering support." Or "I bless your sense of humor that lightens my load."
   • For a parent, a sibling, a friend at the table: "I bless your wisdom," "I bless your creativity," "I bless your resilience."

The deeper meaning: This isn't about ignoring problems. It’s about consciously choosing to shift your "vantage point" from the "portion" (the perceived flaw or frustration) to the "whole" (the inherent good, the blessedness) of that person. It’s about actively saying, "How can I damn whom God has not damned?" and instead, choosing to bless what God has already blessed. You are becoming a Balaam who chooses to speak God's word of blessing, even if your initial human inclination was different. This simple gaze can reframe your entire perception of the evening, and indeed, of your relationships. It invites a softening of the heart and an opening to gratitude.

Havdalah's Blessed Week Ahead

If Friday night feels too busy, let’s try it with Havdalah, the beautiful ritual that separates the holy Shabbat from the mundane week.

How to do it:

1. Preparation (Before Havdalah): As Shabbat winds down, think about the week that is about to begin. It's easy to anticipate the "curses" – the deadlines, the challenges, the difficult conversations. Acknowledge these anxieties. Now, think about the Havdalah candle – its multi-wicked flame represents the many facets of creation and the light we carry into the week.
2. The Havdalah Blessing: During Havdalah, as you hold up the candle and look at its dancing flame, instead of just thinking about what you hope for, try to actively see a potential blessing in one of the anticipated challenges.
   • For example, if you have a big, stressful project coming up at work, instead of focusing on the "curse" of pressure, you might articulate (silently or out loud): "I bless the opportunity this project gives me to learn and grow, to push my limits, and to contribute my unique talents." You are choosing to see the "lioness" strength within you, ready to rise.
   • If you’re anticipating a difficult conversation with a family member, instead of focusing on the "curse" of potential conflict, you might say: "I bless this conversation as a chance for deeper understanding, for honest communication, and for strengthening our bond, even through discomfort."
   • As you pass around the Havdalah spice box (b’samim) and inhale its sweet scent, let it be a reminder to seek out the sweetness, the unexpected blessings, in the coming week, even amidst the mundane or challenging moments.

The deeper meaning: Havdalah is about differentiation – between holy and profane, light and dark. This ritual helps us differentiate between the perceived "curse" and the inherent "blessing" within our week. It’s a powerful act of faith, trusting that "No harm is in sight… No woe in view…" because "The ETERNAL their God is with them." You are actively choosing to bring a Balaam-like perspective to your week, seeing the divine plan unfold and looking for the blessings that are already there, waiting to be revealed. You are carrying the light of Shabbat’s blessing into the potential challenges of the week, illuminating them with a different perspective.

Chevruta Mini

Alright, my friends, time to turn to your chevruta partner (or just reflect deeply on your own!). Let’s explore these ideas together:

1. Unintended Blessings: Think about a time in your family life when you tried really hard to make something happen, to force a particular outcome (like Balaam with his altars), and it ended up unfolding in a completely different, perhaps surprisingly better, way. What did that experience teach you about letting go of control and trusting a larger process?
2. Shifting Your Lookout Point: Can you identify a challenging family situation or a person you tend to view from a "fixed vantage point" (like Balak trying to find the perfect cursing spot)? What would it look like to consciously shift your perspective, to look for the "inherent blessing" or the "whole" person/situation, rather than just the "portion" that frustrates you? How might that change your experience?

Takeaway

Wow. What a journey we’ve taken with Balaam and Balak! From mountaintop to mountaintop, trying to force a curse, only to reveal an unstoppable stream of blessing. The big takeaway for us, my dear camp-alums, is this:

We cannot manipulate the divine plan, nor can we diminish inherent blessings by focusing on flaws or changing our external view. The blessings in our lives, in our families, in our very beings, are often deeply rooted, part of a larger, benevolent design. Our task isn't to create these blessings, but to perceive them. It’s about cultivating a heart and a mind that can choose to see the "No harm is in sight for Jacob, No woe in view for Israel" in our own lives, even when the world, or our own anxieties, try to push us towards a different narrative.

So this week, let’s be less like Balak, desperately seeking a cursing vantage point, and more like Balaam (at his best!), allowing ourselves to be conduits for blessing, and training our eyes to see the inherent good, the unwavering strength, and the divine presence that surrounds us, in our homes, in our families, and in every unexpected twist of our journey.

L’hitraot, my friends! Go forth and find the blessings!