Growing up experiencing moments when I was forbidden to do something that at that time seemed unacceptable, I would challenge my mother: "But why..." Her classic response was "Do you want me to write you a letter?!" as if telling me that what she said should be sufficient. But I always wondered what that letter would say. How would she explain reality differently, or perhaps, how would I experience reality differently.
I often believe that our core experiences and perceptions don't change. They manifest differently as we mature and evolve, but non-the-less, the core desires and questions that molded us in our childhood and youth return to visit us.
Therefore, it is in a similar way that I find myself saying at different junctures of my life, "If only God would write me a letter or send me a postcard..." In those moments when I don't know what to do; in times of confusion or temporary blindness I hear this request reverberating inside of me: "If only God would send me a postcard with some guidance..."
The truth is that I have learned that God does send us such messages, but it takes some training to learn how to decode them.
In this week's Torah portion Bilam is sent many such messages, but he is blinded with his desire and cannot read them. It seems to me from reading the story of Bilam's journey with Balak's messengers that God's will is clear. In chapter 22, verse 12, God explicitly tells Bilam to not go with Balak's representatives. Is there reason to think that God changed his mind just because Balak sends more important emissaries? (Bamidbar 22, 16)
Another angle to look at this would be in God's response to this second visit. God says to Bilam: "If these people have come calling for you then go with them..." (Bamidbar 22, 20). One could say that this is proof that God approved of this journey, but the Torah clearly in verse 22 of our chapter tells us that God was not happy. Bilam goes not because he is sent by God, but rather he is being driven by the people that have come to call for him. He is not manifesting God's will but rather the will of Balak the king of Moav. Perhaps we can read this verse as a form of exclusion - "go with them" means that Bilam goes with them and not with God.
The next few verses come to divert us from this seemingly Godless journey. The language seems familiar as it echo's Avraham and Yitzchak's journey to the Akeida (the binding of Yitzchak). In Breishit 22, 3 Avraham rises early, saddles his donkey and sets out with his two lads. In our story Bilam doesn't rise so early... but non-the-less he too saddles his ass and takes his two lads with him. It is the element of vision that is so different for our two hero's. We're told that on the third day Avraham lifts up his eyes (Towards God? Towards the world he walks in?) and he sees Har Hamoriah (Mt. Moriah). His eyes lifted towards God and the world as His manifestation, to see and hear God's will.
Bilam also has an encounter with the number three, but for him it reveals the moments of his blindness! Three times he doesn't see what his ass sees! As a manifestation of the animal world, of nature, she can see what life has put in front of her eyes. Her master is blind to that which in right there!
Bilam wanted to fulfill Balak's wish and therefore could not see the multiple 'postcards' that God was sending him. Each time his animal diverted from her way was a message from God to turn back. A message that Bilam had diverted from the way of God. Bilam's determination deafen's and blind's him, shutting him off from God's true voice, from those divine 'postcards'.
One may ask how can we develop these eyes to see and ears to hear the messages that God sends us. It is told in the Talmud (Chulin 95b) that when Rav did not know whether or not to go somewhere he would go down to the river and see if the ferry that connected both sides of the river was coming or not. If it was coming, he knew that he was meant to go to the destiny he set out for. But if the ferry wasn't coming he knew that he was meant to stay home. (Think about standing and waiting for a cab on Fifth Ave. in New York not knowing whether to head towards the Village or not...) Though this may seem somewhat simplistic, what it is offering us is a lens into the life that we live and surrounds us - how does the environment respond to our desires? And what is the relationship between our personal desires and God's desire for us? What are the missions that God is sending us on? What Rav is asking of us is to align ourselves with our environment, look and listen to what the world is telling us as God's messenger.
God sends us postcards every day. The only thing is - they aren't rectangle with a shinny picture on one side and words on the other. God's postcards come in the form and shape of people and events. They come at times in the form of a challenge that demands of us to exit our comfort zone and push ourselves to overcome our inhibitions. At times they manifest in the shape of a hand held out to us with love and care. And sometimes, if we allow ourselves to trust ourselves they come in the form and shape of a new, innovative or creative thought that we have witnessed for the first time.
Returning for a moment to my mother's "letter writing" - It had been years since she was offering to "write me a letter" and the phrase had sunk deep into my childhood memories. Until one day, one Shabbat night, my nephews were misbehaving and my mother asked them to stop. When one of them asked "why", or as he asked in Hebrew, "Lama?" all of a sudden I heard her say: "Ata rotzeh sh'ani echtov l'cha mictav?!" I fought to hold back my laughter, thinking to myself: "Mazal tov, twenty years later and now she's offering to write letters in Hebrew..."
Sometimes God's postcard comes in a language that we don't immediately understand. This is where friends, family and a good 'dictionary' come in handy. Despite what it may seem like at times, they always arrive.
May we have the patience and courage to read the postcards as they come in. May we be blessed with holy interpreters in those moments of confusion and doubt. May we be blessed with eyes and ears to experience our lives as an ever-unfolding story that is continuously being written.
Shabbat shalom.