Balak
Balak, the king of the Moabites, grew frightened by the
growing numbers of Israelites, saying, “Now this horde will lick
clean all that is about us as an ox licks up the grass of the field.” (Numbers
22:4) He sent for the prophet Balaam and
commanded him to curse the Israelites.
Balaam saddled his donkey for the journey. Lo and behold the donkey saw an angel of the
Lord and spoke to Balaam preventing him from cursing the Israelites. The animal helped to open the prophet’s eyes
so that he might bless the people. The
story’s irony cannot be missed. The
prophet is blind. The animal sees.
A talking
donkey? The tradition of course views
this as a miracle that we should not question.
The 20th century Jewish philosopher, Franz Rosenzweig,
suggests that he believes the story only when it is read in synagogue or
perhaps it is better to say, at that moment he suspends disbelief and doubt. He said, “On the Shabbos when they read it
from the Torah, I believe it.”
Rabbi
Lawrence Kushner writes: “Taken literally, the whole story is obviously
silly. Or is it? Even though it makes us uncomfortable,
animals can and do know things hidden from human perception and people do
routinely communicate with them.” (Lawrence Kushner and David Mamet, Five Cities of Refuge)
Anyone
who has a pet will affirm this observation.
Animals have an awareness that humans sometimes lack. Birds for example
are able to weather hurricanes and storms far better than we are. Not only are the blessed with the ability to
fly outside of the storm’s path but they are also endowed with an inner
barometer that forewarns them about impending storms. Each species of birds has developed different
strategies for dealing with the weather.
Since
the hurricane we have noticed, for example, that the local osprey have changed
their nesting patterns. In the days
following the storm we spied an osprey on our neighbor’s front lawn. Recently as I rode towards Target Rock along
West Neck Road I discovered an osprey nest on the edge of the causeway. In the past these birds could only be seen
off in the distance atop tall poles.
Since Hurricane Sandy they apparently were forced to build nests in
whatever trees were still left standing.
Usually
when riding, I never stop, except at traffic lights of course. But this moment took my breath away. There, only a few feet above the road was an
osprey nest with chicks in it. Their
parent (I have no way of determining whether it was the mother or father) stood
near its young with a fish in its talons.
I stopped to marvel at nature.
I
breathed in God’s creation. I discovered
amazement at its ability to find rejuvenation.
Even after the devastation of Superstorm Sandy nature returns and is
restored. I listened to the osprey’s
call and its chicks’ whistle. And like
Balaam I sang: “How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob/ Your dwellings, O
Israel!/ Like palm-groves that stretch out,/ Like gardens beside a river,/ Like
aloes planted by the Lord,/ Like cedars beside the water…” (Numbers 24:5-7)