Friday, July 19, 2024

I Can’t Do It

Parshat Balak

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

The parsha is replete with exchanges and dialogue between Balak, King of Moab, and Bilaam, necromancer. At first they communicate through emissaries, and later on they meet in person, carrying on several conversations aimed at Bilaam doing his best to curse the Jewish people. 

 To Bilaam’s credit (though some will suggest it’s an example of Bilaam showing off), Bilaam does declare that “I can not violate the word of God.” Put more succinctly, as he tells both emissaries and Balak personally, “Even if Balak gives me his entire palace filled silver and gold, I still can not violate the word of God for good or for bad on my own – what God tells me is what I will say.” 

 Balak is understandably upset by all this, particularly after the fact, and he tells Bilaam, “Go home! I said I would honor you, but God has made you unworthy of honor!” (24:11). 

Is Balak really “understandably” upset? After all, Bilaam did tell both sets of Balak’s emissaries and Balak in person that he could only say what God might allow him to say! It could be that Balak didn’t accept this excuse because Bilaam had a reputation that he could say or do whatever he wanted. Of course, that could mean that Bilaam’s reputation was based on how he dealt with other nations. The fact that Israel is a different kind of entity, who benefit from a unique form of Divine Protection, seems to be lost on Balak in his mis-understanding Bilaam’s abilities. 

 But is that really the case? The whole reason why Balak hired Bilaam in the first place is because “Balak saw all that Israel had done to the Emorite” (22:2)! Why was he upset at what Bilaam said he couldn’t do, when that had been made clear to him from the get-go… God is on their side! 

Rabbi Baruch Halevi Epstein (in his Tosefes Bracha) explains that there are two motivations for a person to say “I can’t” do something. 

 One is a physical impossibility. I can’t lift a building with my bare hands. I can’t jump across a river. Examples of this kind of incapability appear in the Torah: the angel saw he couldn’t defeat Yaakov (Bereshis 32:26), the spies felt we can’t defeat the strong armies in Canaan (Bamidbar 13:31), etc. 

The other is not physically impossible, but is impossible because of one’s state of the mind or some other emotional preventative barrier, such as it being a commandment. For example: Yosef’s brothers could not speak with him peaceably (Bereshis 37:4), the Egyptians couldn’t eat with the Israelites (Bereshits 43:32), you can’t eat Maaser Sheni at your home as it needs to be eaten in Jerusalem (Devarim 12:17); you can’t neglect a lost object (Devarim 22:3), etc. 

 In this latter category of “can’t,” a feeling might be that if some other factor is thrown into the mix, the person may be able to “get over” the inability and do that which they feel incapable of doing at this time (unless, obviously, bound by a mitzvah). In the former category, no amount of incentive will help a person do that which a person is physically incapable of doing. Other than Superman, no one, for example, could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Even for all the money in the world. 

 Rabbi Epstein suggests that Balak felt Bilaam’s declared inability of “I can not violate God’s word” was of the latter category. He felt Bilaam was not in the right frame of mind, and all he needed was a different perspective from which to view the Israelites, his intended target, which is why they changed mountaintops over and over, or he needed a promise of great honor or more money. Bilaam had to explain to him that money or honor were meaningless. They couldn’t change what Bilaam was capable of doing. His inability was of the former kind – he was physically incapable of saying words that God would not allow him to say. 

 Rabbi Epstein concludes comparing this situation to what Lavan (who many identify as an ancestor of Bilaam) said to Avraham’s servant: “We are unable to speak to you good or bad.” In Lavan’s case, the power of speech had been taken from him and his father to the point that they couldn’t even say good things. They were limited in the kinds of speech they could aim at Avraham’s servant, as per Yevamos 103b “Even the good of the wicked is bad for the righteous.” That is a cautionary reminder to be careful with whom we engage in dialogue. 

 The following illustration is meant to showcase a relatable example of “I can’t” with respect to non-kosher food, and is not looking to paint anyone in a bad light. My wife and I were recently in a mostly empty Kosher sushi restaurant, and the only other customers in the store were a non-Jewish Indian couple. (How they found a Kosher sushi place? I do not know). They were sitting at the counter in front of the sushi bar and talking with the workers behind the counter, one is Korean, the other an Orthodox Jew. They spoke of food they like, and the Indian gentleman (who came across as a secular Muslim) was talking about a new chain of restaurants opening that has Halal meat. And then he mentioned the best food place he’s ever been to. Demonstrating an awareness of the Jewish worker, he said, “but are you strictly Kosher?” The answer was “Yes.” 

 “Well, if you ever change, you gotta check this place out!” His wife gently indicated to her husband to drop it, “Stop it! He’s not changing! Leave him alone.” The guy was friendly though, and he said, “What? My relatives are Muslims. Some of them keep the rules. And others have changed and have decided that they do whatever they want! Maybe he will one day too!” Again his wife told him to drop it, and he did. But the Jewish worker said, “No. I’m not changing!” 

 He didn’t say “I can’t eat non-kosher” but nonetheless he was demonstrating his inability through fealty to the commandments of God. Certainly anyone can physically eat non-kosher should they choose to. But one can’t if one lives by the rules. 

There are times, however, when we say “I can’t do something,” but it’s not because of a physical incapability. We don’t want to do it. 

We don’t want to set more time for Torah study, we don’t want to turn off our phones when we are in shul or engaged in an activity that requires our undivided attention, we don’t want to be more careful with our diets, we don’t want to exercise, we don’t want to give of ourselves, we don’t want to have difficult conversations or talk to people with whom we disagree, we don’t want to give beyond what we think are our means, we don’t want to give compliments and go out of our way to make people feel comfortable or to make people feel appreciated or special, we don’t want to step out of our comfort zone and be helpful when it’s easier to relax or disappear. 

Bilaam’s excuse was legitimate. He knew his limitation was God-sent, and he was truthful and up-front about it. Balak was like the guy in the restaurant and believed that Bilaam could curse the Israelites if he truly wanted to (Bilaam wanted to!), and he couldn’t fathom that Bilaam’s speech in this regard was actually not in his control. 

 Where things are in our control, may we be blessed to do the things we say we can’t, when the barrier is really just our minds, sometimes laziness, and mostly a lack of desire to challenge ourselves to be and do better. We CAN lift ourselves up and bring more meaning to our existence through rising to the challenge of doing the things we’ve told ourselves we can’t do… because really, we can!

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