‘Early to Rise’ Parashat Balak 5786
Balaam[1], after receiving what he interprets as Divine Approval, goes to Moab to curse the Jews. Balaam is no ordinary person and his curse is no ordinary curse. The Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin [106a] teaches that his powers of prophecy rivalled those of Moshe, the greatest prophet who ever lived. Balaam had the capacity to wipe out the Jewish People with one word[2]. He wakes up the next morning, has a cup of coffee, and sets out on his journey [Bemidbar 22:22]: “Balaam arose in the morning, saddled his donkey and departed with the Moabite dignitaries.” G-d, knowing precisely what Balaam is up to, is not pleased [Bemidbar 22:23]: “G-d was incensed at his going; so an angel of G-d took an adversarial position in his way. He was riding on his donkey, with his two servants alongside.”
If these words seem like déjà vu, then you have a good memory. When Abraham takes Isaac to Mount Moriah to offer him up as a sacrifice (akeida), the Torah uses nearly identical words [Bereishit 22:3]: “Abraham arose early the next morning, saddled his donkey and took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. He split the wood for the burnt offering, and he set out for the place of which G-d had told him.” Both Abraham and Balaam wake up in the morning. Both take with them two servants. Both saddle their own donkeys, even though they have servants for that sort of thing. Their actions are as similar as their missions are disparate. And yet, a closer look reveals a number of striking differences:
- Abraham “woke up early (vayash’kem) in the morning”. Balaam merely “woke up (vaya’kom) in the morning”.
- Abraham takes two servants before he grabs Isaac. This in and of itself is odd, as Isaac is the reason he is going to Mount Moriah in the first place. He should have taken him first. Balaam, on the other hand, takes his two servants almost as an afterthought.
- Abraham takes a male donkey (chamor) while Balaam takes a female donkey (aton)[3].
Rashi[4] is sensitive to the first dissimilarity. He asserts that both men woke up early because they were so excited about the action they were about to perform. Nevertheless, G-d gawked at Balaam and said, “You wicked man! Their ancestor Abraham has already pre-empted you (kadem’cha) in this, as it is said, ‘Abraham arose early the next morning, and saddled his donkey’” Nechama Leibowitz[5] explained to us that Abraham was not lauded for waking up in the morning four hundred years before Balaam did, as if to counter Balaam’s future action. Rather, Abraham woke up exceptionally early – much earlier than Balaam did.
Now we segue to the second dissimilarity. In both episodes, Rashi makes a nearly identical comment, that an distinguished person – Abraham or Balaam – should not depart on a journey unless he is in the company of two other people. This is a safety issue: Bad things happen on journeys and it is always a good idea to have someone around to help pull you out of quicksand of one kind or another. The problem is not only that Rashi is being repetitive, but that as Balaam was accompanied by a large contingent of “Moabite dignitaries”, there was no pressing reason for him to take along his servants.
Regarding the third dissimilarity, it is less important to understand why Balaam took a female donkey as opposed to a male donkey. It is much more important to understand why Balaam took a donkey at all. After all, he was visited by an entourage of dignitaries sent by the King of Moab himself. They promise to give him [Bemidbar 22:14] anything he wants as long as he uses his special powers to exterminate the Jews. One would think that they would come with a stretch limousine and a chauffeur to take him back to Moab. Why in the world would he drive himself in a 1983 Honda Civic?
Our answer lies in a Mishnah in Tractate Avot [5:19]: “Whoever possesses these three things, he is of the disciples of Abraham, our father; and [whoever possesses] three other things, he is of the disciples of Balaam, the wicked. A good eye, a humble spirit and a moderate appetite he is of the disciples of Abraham, our father. An evil eye, a haughty spirit and a limitless appetite he is of the disciples of Balaam, the wicked. What is the difference between the disciples of Abraham, our father, and the disciples of Balaam, the wicked? The disciples of Abraham, our father, enjoy this world, and inherit the world to come… But the disciples of Balaam, the wicked, inherit Hell, and descend into the nethermost pit”. The premise of this Mishnah is puzzling. Abraham was not known as a teacher and as such, he did not have any known disciples. Moshe Rabbeinu – “Moshe Our Teacher” – was an educator par excellence with millions of disciples. Why doesn’t the Mishnah compare Balaam with Moshe, especially seeing as the Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin already compares the two?
I suggest that the Mishnah is anchored in the verses describing how Abraham and Balaam set out to perform their missions, and it seeks to define the core difference between someone who is a Jew and someone who would curse that Jew. That difference is authenticity. Abraham is authentic; Balaam is not. Balaam wants to talk the talk without truly walking the walk. Abraham is commanded to sacrifice his only son. He can hardly sleep, and yet he channels all of his energy into fulfilling the directive of G‑d as quickly and faithfully as possible. He saddles his own donkey because he refuses to delay even a moment. He takes two servants because he understands that without them, the mission itself might fail. Every detail flows from the reality of his commitment. Balaam, by contrast, looks to Abraham as an archetype of religious devotion and attempts to imitate him – but only superficially. Where Abraham is prepared to sacrifice his son because G‑d has commanded it, Balaam is prepared to destroy an entire nation because he convinces himself that G‑d is merely permitting it. He borrows Abraham’s choreography without sharing his conviction. He wakes early – but only early enough to be noticed. Abraham took two servants, so he takes two servants. Abraham saddled his donkey, so he does the same. But each act is performative, a façade of humility draped over moral emptiness. Balaam is not Abraham, and his mimicry only highlights the profound gap between authentic service of G‑d and its hollow imitation.
In the end, the Torah is not merely contrasting two journeys; it is teaching us how to evaluate our own. It is easy to adopt the external trappings of service of G-d – to look the part, to follow the motions, to mirror the great figures of our past. But the litmus test is not how closely we resemble Abraham from the outside; it is whether our actions flow from the same inner truth. Authenticity means aligning our intentions, our actions, and our relationship with G‑d into a single, coherent whole. When we do, even the smallest act becomes elevated. When we do not, even the grandest gestures ring hollow. The choice between being a disciple of Abraham or a disciple of Balaam is not made once in a lifetime – it is made early every morning, when we rise and choose not just what we will do, but who we will truly be.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] My father once asked me why the Hebrew “Bil’am” is transliterated as “Balaam”. I had no idea. I also had no ChatGPT. “Balaam” in English comes from the Greek (Βαλαάμ) version of the Hebrew name בִּלְעָם (Bil’am), as most biblical names entered English through Greek and Latin rather than directly from Hebrew. The vowel change (i à a) reflects how Greek adapted Hebrew sounds and that form became standardized in later translations.
[2] The Talmud teaches that this word was “Kela’em (Destroy them)”.
[3] Our Sages in the Midrash suggest that Balaam’s relationship with his donkey was more than platonic. We will search for an alternative explanation.
[4] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11th century.
[5] Nechama Leibowitz was a pioneering 20th century Israeli Bible scholar and educator whose innovative teaching methods and writings transformed modern Torah study.
