הִנֵּה עַם יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם הִנֵּה כִסָּה אֶת־עֵין הָאָרֶץ וְהוּא יֹשֵׁב מִמֻּלִי׃
…”There is a people that came out of Egypt; it hides the earth from view, and it is settled next to me.”
Numbers 22:5
This is how Balak, king of the Moabites, saw the Hebrews.
This week's Torah story takes a 180-degree turn. After weeks of following the forty-year journey of the Israelites through the desert wilderness, we are dropped into a dramatic narrative centering on Balak and Bilaam, leaders and prophets of other desert dwellers. What's going on here?
Torah is giving us a knock on the head to pay attention to other people's narratives, and recognize that we all come from the same Universal God Energy and stumble along the same paths. This is the hit on the head so famous in Zen teaching stories called koans.
Awaken!
Free your mind from believing your narrative is the center of the universe!
The drama of Balak and Bilaam seems to occur in an alternate universe, one that mirrors the Israelite narrative. Bilaam, like Moses, is a reluctant prophet. He misses signals and needs magical acts to get the message. Balak, like Moses, is charged with protecting his people from a loss of freedom.
Balak, King of the Moabites, fears for his and his people's power and safety. He sees the Israelites as the ones who will "hide the earth from them." Bilaam tries to do the job Balak has enlisted him to do: curse the Israelites. But the Source of Life has another plan.
Then the ETERNAL opened Bilaam’s eyes, and he saw the angel of the ETERNAL standing in the road with his sword drawn. So he bowed low and fell face down. (Numbers 22:31)
Bilaam and Moses are lucky; when they can't see or speak, the God of Torah communicates to them so that they get the message. Not so for the masses of people throughout the story, throughout history, who are struck down by plagues, wars and mysterious diseases.
Torah, as the core narrative and spiritual text of a particular people, transmits teachings about how we earthlings can come into right relationship with each other, with water and with Earth, through the particularity of the Hebrew (later Jewish) people.
Last week in Chukat, the nation of Edom refused to let the Israelites pass through their land because they knew the Israelites were not in right relationship with water. They knew the Israelites would take more than their fair share.
וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֵלָיו בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵל בַּמְסִלָּה נַעֲלֶה וְאִם־מֵימֶיךָ נִשְׁתֶּה אֲנִי וּמִקְנַי וְנָתַתִּי מִכְרָם רַק אֵין־דָּבָר בְּרַגְלַי אֶעֱבֹרָה׃
“We will keep to the beaten track,” the Israelites said to them, “and if we or our cattle drink your water, we will pay for it. We ask only for passage on foot—it is but a small matter.”
Numbers 20:19
Humans passing through others’ land are too slowly learning that money doesn't replace water. The tikkun, the chukat ha’olam, healing path, is to learn not to take more than our share; to live in harmony with the essential interconnectedness of all life, all creation. Today we see more and more that the "developed world" lost its way long ago and that we need to reconnect with the ways of indigenous peoples.
The ones who dare to call ourselves Sapiens must include indigenous and all peoples into our "we." Then we speak a bigger truth, closer to the wholeness Eternally Present sees. In the US, European settlers came and took (like Korach, in the story before Chukat). Taking (Korach) is doomed; taking more than your share (water for money) is doomed; not learning from the indigenous is dooming us all.
In Balak, Eternal wisdom puts the words of truth in the mouths of other peoples because part of the healing path is for each people to learn to make the other peoples their teachers. In the US, this means looking to the people who have worked the fields and land, as migrants, or enslaved, or confined to "reservations." In the Mideast, this would be the Jewish people seeing the Palestinians as their indigenous allies and teachers.
Torah shows how the way we see each other mirrors how we see ourselves and shifts our relationships.
We all have the Same Feelings and Needs!
Many years ago I was invited to give a Nonviolent Communication (NVC) workshop at the UN in New York City. About 25 of us assembled around a large table in a conference room. There were participants from Palestine, the US, and many other countries. Israeli participation was (to me) sadly and noticeably absent. After some introduction and practice with the intention and tools of Nonviolent Communication, I proposed we do a group role play of a negotiation to dismantle the "Separation Wall." At that time, Israel was still constructing a wall as a border it was creating to separate predominantly Jewish Israel from the predominantly Palestinian West Bank.
I asked if half the room, including the Palestinian delegation, would role play the Israeli side and half the Palestinian. And if they would accept my coaching so that we would be trying out the methods of NVC.
All agreed.
We used three guiding NVC principles: both groups articulating and hearing the universal human needs each wanted to meet and then collectively identifying strategies that could meet the needs. Then tweaking the strategies so that each group's needs were met without compromising the other's needs.
As soon as we began, someone role-playing a Palestinian negotiator shouted out, "I want freedom and dignity." We wrote freedom and dignity on a chart of needs.
Someone role-playing the Israeli side shouted out, "I want safety." Someone role playing the Palestinian side shouted out, "I want safety too." Someone playing the Israeli side shouted out, "I want freedom and dignity too." This went on, as we assembled one list of needs, without tying them to either "side" or to strategies (actions) to meet the needs.
Using a large sheet of paper, we created a colorful list of all the needs, a field to sit in the same life-giving energies that all peoples long for: "A good life for my children." " Connection to the land." "Respect for my people's beliefs and ways of life." "Autonomy." " Empowerment." "Peace." "Connection to my ancestors."
One of the real life members of the Palestinian delegation exclaimed, we have the same needs! The energy started to shift in the room, from tension and collision to sadness and stillness.
We shifted to collecting strategies (proposed actions, including requests and demands) to meet the needs. This is an open brainstorming session, without censoring. I noticed the energy level rise again and what I sensed was a shift to positioning "against." This often happens when we enter the territory of strategizing. Using NVC, we encourage unleashing creative juice in strategizing; and also guide ourselves to stay connected to the needs we are trying to meet with our proposed strategies. The focus on needs helps us recenter to a place where shared values, creativity, and imagination make connection more possible.
Someone from Europe who was role playing a Palestinian called out, "take down the wall." We wrote that as the first strategy in the list of strategies to consider.
A Palestinian participant, in the role of an Israeli negotiator, immediately spoke up,"that will not meet our needs for safety and security." I noticed what seemed to me to be a settling energy in the room, as people took in the universal need for safety and security.
"Your safety, but what about mine?"
I explained that the shift we try to make when we use NVC is from seeing needs as "yours" or "mine," to asking, "What is it that I want more of in the world?" This is a shift from "othering" to "partnership," based on a recognition that we are interconnected; my freedom depends on your freedom, my safety depends on your safety.
At the end of the session I was invited to Ramallah to do a training. I went to Ramallah and met with the woman who had invited me. Even though the training she and I had hoped for didn't happen, many members of the Palestinian Authority and Palestinian political parties began attending our NVC trainings in the West Bank. Today there are numbers of Palestinians connected to the NVC community there, with some giving NVC trainings in various sectors of society.
Balak and Bilaam
How does this all relate to this week's Torah portion on Balak and Bilaam? When I look deeply into the story of these two Moabites and Midianites, I see a mirrored reflection of the needs, hopes and dreams of the Israelites and all peoples. The roles in each other's narratives are reversed; the feelings and needs are the same. Fear for safety and security. Trust that the thriving of one will not prevent the thriving of the other. And at the heart of it, the same "God," the same Oneness.
We all live within our circle of concerns and within the narrative of our people, family and selves. All around us, others live in theirs.
In last week's Torah, Chukat, other desert dwellers' narratives about the Israelites were told through the Israelite's eyes. This week we see the same God, that which is Eternally Present, opening the eyes of Bilaam, a Midianite prophet who is charged with cursing the Israelites.
Eternally Present is concerned with all creatures, opens the eyes of all, speaks to all, sees the perspectives of all.
In a recent class on Hasidic mysticism with Rabbi Arthur Green, I asked, “Why were some of our ancient Jewish teachers, such as Philo and Onkelos, so universal, and not the Hasidim?” The Hasidic teachings we study reveal the deepest consciousness and celebration of the Oneness of all life. Yet the languaging, not to mention the lifestyle of so many of their disciples today, seems to elevate Jews and Judaism and cut it off from the living root of Oneness.
He explained that historical conditions determine so much of how mystics, like the rest of us, see and articulate. The ancient Jewish scholars who lived in, for example, cosmopolitan Alexandria, Egypt, saw day-to-day how all the religions and peoples share the same the struggles, narratives, and spiritual insights.
This is the message Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh gave to me, when I asked him, “Why is it so hard to find the teachings of compassion in my root tradition of Judaism?” His answer, "because of historical conditions." He went on, “All great traditions have mindfulness and compassion at their hearts; they wouldn't be great traditions if they didn't. Your job is to go deeply into them and find the mindfulness and compassion at their heart.” He underscored this at other times when he said, "The world doesn't need more Buddhists. The world needs more Buddhas."
In this week's parsha (Torah portion) I celebrate seeing the "Buddha," the One who is Awakened to Oneness and Compassion in a "non-Jew," the Midianite seer Bilaam.
Bilaam's name puts his universality front and center. In Hebrew, Bilaam can mean without people. We could look at this as isolation and loneliness or as universality; his amazing ability to hear and speak from Eternally Present.
As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote in The Dignity of Difference:
God is the God of all humanity. The God of the Jews enters the world at the conclusion of the Flood by making a covenant with all people. Thus, “The God of Israel is the God of all humanity, but the religion of Israel is not the religion of all humanity; it is something unique to the Jews. (p.124)
Rabbi Sacks explains in another writing:
Why then does Judaism distinguish between the universality of God and the particularity of our relationship with Him? Answer: because this helps us solve the single greatest problem humanity has faced since earliest times. How can I recognise the dignity and integrity of the ‘other’? History and biology have written into the human mind a capacity for altruism toward the people like us, and aggression toward the people not like us. We are good, they are bad. We are innocent, they are guilty. We have truth, they have lies. We have God on our side, they do not. Many crimes of nation against nation are due to this propensity.
The Universal and the Particular, February 2020
Hadar Rosh Yeshiva Yitz Greenberg wrote this week in his blog on parashat Balak:
...in fact Balaam is revealed as a true prophet—in touch with and receiving profound revelation directly from God. His prophecy communicates some of the most beautiful and touching passages ever said about the Jewish people. In this way, the Torah demonstrates that God cares deeply about and connects to non-Jews; God sends them prophets and gives them true revelation. This is a foreshadowing of a prophetic pluralism which will not become a substantial part of Jewish tradition until millennia later than the Bible—namely in our time.
The story this week recounts Balak, the king of Moab enlisting Bilaam the Midianite prophet, to prevent the Israelites from entering their land. Bilaam 's relationship with Eternally Present will determine what happens. Torah brings this entire episode to remind all peoples that ours is not the only narrative. Ours is not the only experience. We live among others and others live among us. We affect each other, even as we may choose to be, as in this parsha, "a people apart."
Still we need each other's water and land. Our safe passage depends on our relationship with other peoples. This is the story, told in Torah over and over. The MOST repeated phrase in Torah is "remember the stranger for you too were a stranger."
Taking 100% Responsibility
In relationship work in Nonviolent Communication, we speak about learning to take 100% responsibility to create the relationships we want. With ourselves, with earth, with others in our family, communities and with other peoples and nations. If I want more connection, I fortify myself to keep reaching out. If I want the other person to reach out to me, more mutuality, I fortify myself to ask for that. I fortify myself to receive a "no" by learning to hear the "yes," behind the "no." What is that person, or nation, saying "yes" to when they say no to my request? What do they want me to understand is so important to them that they are willing to risk cutting off from me?
This calls on us to learn to be curious and open to hearing and understanding other people;'s experience of us and of the world. If other people are afraid of us, we don't mirror their fear by fearing to hear why. This is our moment, as the Dalai Lama teaches, to change negative karma. This is the same concept of tikkun; the brokenness that falls into us brings us our work of repairing the world.
Doing this means that we center ourselves in our own power and find our power within ourselves, not giving away our self- trust and empowerment because of how other people see us. Instead of feeling shame when others see that we are taking more than our share, we can ask for connection, dialogue, learning how we can meet our needs in other ways.
As one of my Nonviolent Communication trainer colleagues recently wrote:
I don't want to hide and feel shame about [someone] being angry at me anymore...I am no longer going to suck up what I perceive as his judgments over me in a private sphere where no one holds him accountable for his choice of self-expression....
Taking responsibility for healing relationships means bringing empathy to and overcoming our own shame and fear as well as developing greater sensitivity to others’ shame and fear.
In Torah, Eternal Presence tells the people over and over that they are chosen, have power, and are heading in the direction toward the Promised Land. This is the source of non-fear. With this power we can stop and listen — why are all these other nations so afraid of us that they don't want to let us pass through their land?
What do we know about ourselves, what do we need to transform in ourselves, so that we can come into a trusted relationship with other people?
Eternally Present calls us to this over and over.
Even as we are reassured, over and over, that despite our intransigence, we are essentially good ("chosen"), we are reminded over and over that we err and need refinement before we can occupy land. This week's story ends with another mass destruction of the Israelites at the hand of Eternally Present, 24,000 struck down because they were not in right-relationship with other peoples.
Taking 100% responsibility means showing up in the way we want the world to show up, not waiting for others. In the 90's, Thich Nhat Hanh called this "unilateral disarmament."
What do we have to agree on and do to stop being enemies? Each people has to recognize that they are not the only people or species inhabiting the land, inhabiting Earth. We have to realize that our narrative carries the needs of our people and isn't the only narrative. Our world becomes richer and our perceptions are more in line with how things are and were created to be.
Rumi's Moses and the Shepherd
Moses heard a shepherd on the road, praying,
"God,
where are you? I want to help you, to fix your shoes
and comb your hair. I want to wash your clothes
and pick the lice off. I want to bring you milk
to kiss your little hands and feet when it's time
for you to go to bed. I want to sweep your room
and keep it neat. God, my sheep and goats
are yours. All I can say, remembering you,
is ayyyy and ahhhhhhhhh."
Moses could stand it no longer.
"Who are you talking to?"
"The one who made us,
and made the earth and made the sky."
"Don't talk about shoes
and socks with God! And what's this with your little hands
and feet? Such blasphemous familiarity sounds like
you're chatting with your uncles.
Only something that grows
needs milk. Only someone with feet needs shoes. Not God!
Even if you meant God's human representatives,
as when God said, `I was sick, and you did not visit me,'
even then this tone would be foolish and irreverent.
Use appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine name
for a woman, but if you call a man Fatima,
it's an insult. Body-and-birth language
are right for us on this side of the river,
but not for addressing the origin,
not for Allah."
The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighed
and wandered out into the desert.
A sudden revelation
then came to Moses. God's voice:
You have separated me
from one of my own. Did you come as a Prophet to unite,
or to sever?
I have given each being a separate and unique way
of seeing and knowing that knowledge.
What seems wrong to you is right for him.
What is poison to one is honey to someone else.
Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,
these mean nothing to me.
I am apart from all that.
Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better
or worse than one another.
Hindus do Hindu things.
The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do.
It's all praise, and it's all right.
It's not me that's glorified in acts of worship.
It's the worshipers! I don't hear the words
they say. I look inside at the humility.
That broken-open lowliness is the reality,
not the language! Forget phraseology.
I want burning, 'burning'.
Be friends
with your burning. Burn up your thinking
and your forms of expression!
Moses,
those who pay attention to ways of behaving
and speaking are one sort.
Lovers who burn
are another.
Don't impose a property tax
on a burned-out village. Don't scold the Lover.
The "wrong" way he talks is better than a hundred
"right" ways of others.
Inside the Kaaba
it doesn't matter which direction you point
your prayer rug!
The ocean diver doesn't need snowshoes!
The love-religion has no code or doctrine.
Only God.
So the ruby has nothing engraved on it!
It doesn't need markings.
God began speaking
deeper mysteries to Moses. Vision and words,
which cannot be recorded here, poured into
and through him. He left himself and came back.
He went to eternity and came back here.
Many times this happened.
It's foolish of me
to try and say this. If I did say it,
it would uproot our human intelligences.
It would shatter all writing pens.
Moses ran after the shepherd.
He followed the bewildered footprints,
in one place moving straight like a castle
across a chessboard. In another, sideways,
like a bishop.
Now surging like a wave cresting,
now sliding down like a fish,
with always his feet
making geomancy symbols in the sand,
Recording
his wandering state.
Moses finally caught up
with him.
"I was wrong. God has revealed to me
that there are no rules for worship.
Say whatever
and however your loving tells you to. Your sweet blasphemy
is the truest devotion. Through you a whole world
is freed.
Loosen your tongue and don't worry what comes out.
It's all the light of the spirit."
The shepherd replied,
"Moses, Moses,
I've gone beyond even that.
You applied the whip and my horse shied and jumped
out of itself. The divine nature and my human nature
came together.
Bless your scolding hand and your arm.
I can't say what's happened.
What I'm saying now
is not my real condition. It can't be said."
The shepherd grew quiet.
When you look in a mirror,
you see yourself, not the state of the mirror.
The flute player puts breath into a flute,
and who makes the music? Not the flute.
The flute player!
Whenever you speak praise
or thanksgiving to God, it's always like
this dear shepherd's simplicity.
When you eventually see
through the veils to how things really are,
you will keep saying again
and again,
"This is certainly not like
we thought it was!"
— The Essential Rumi, from Rumi's Masnavi, Book # 2, Translated by Coleman Barks
Wow! There is so much here. 🙂
I’m a bit starstruck by stories of teaching the U.N. and meeting Thich Nhat Hahn in person. 🙂 Getting a little bit of the thrill and excitement you must have felt. I hope that the U.N. delegates took a bit of that perspective into themselves. Hope for the USA to take a more active and humble part in the U.N. in the future.
Last night, our Rabbinic Intern quoted “How beautiful are your tents and dwellings” and focused on the contrast between temporary and permanent homes. I’ll be taking your insights about Bilaam and other perspectives into our Torah discussion this morning. Shabbat Shalom
Linda
I still think this is awesome. One of your best 🙂