My son Yaron, who is now 11 months old, likes to take the door stopper and stick it in his mouth. I used to say, “Yaron, no! Don’t put that in your mouth!” He would just smile or laugh at me and continue shoving it in his mouth. Lately, I tried a new method. When he put the dirty door stopper in his mouth, I said, “Yaron, you’re such a good boy! You want to give the door stopper to Mommy!” And sure enough, he took it out of his mouth and extended his hand to give me the door stopper. I said, “Thank you! You are such a generous and giving little boy!”
This vignette brings up the neverending question of how to discipline and how to bring about good behavior. There is the “tough love” method where you punish a child for bad behavior. There is the Pavlov method of positive reinforcement where you praise a child every time he does something appropriate.
And then there what I like to call the “Bilaam method.” And this is what we learn from this week’s Torah portion, Balak.
This week, we read about Balak, the Moabite king who having heard the tales of their other battles, perceives Israel as a threat. He hires Bilaam, a prophet, to curse the Israelites. God makes it clear to Bilaam that he is not to curse Israel, whom God has blessed. But, after a number of approaches, Balak makes Bilaam an offer he cannot refuse. God permits Bilaam to go, but only with the knowledge that Bilaam will have no control over the words that will come out of his own mouth. Finally, Bilaam reaches his destination and opens his mouth to curse Israel. But instead of curses, words of blessing are spoken.
Why does it matter if Bilaam, a foreign prophet, praises Israel? There is disagreement among the traditional sources if Bilaam is, indeed, a true and wise prophet or if he is a false prophet, since he is not part of Israel. This raises the question of whether or not we should heed Bilaam’s words. However, we know that this story was brought in the Torah for a reason.
When we read the story of Bilaam, we are with him, up on the cliff overlooking the valley where the Israelites are parked. The Torah does not share the reaction of the Israelites down below to Bilaam’s words. Imagine that you are in the Israelite camp. You look up and you see an evil king up above with a prophet and an entourage of many servants, making many sacrifices on the mountain top. The prophet raises his rod – what could he be preparing to say with such pomp and circumstance? Something terrible? Something awesome? And out comes, “How lovely are your tents, Oh Jacob! Your dwelling places, Oh Israel!” (Numbers 24:5)
What effect does this have on you, as an Israelite, to hear praise from this terrible looking foreign prophet who is supposed to hate you?
We are taught in Midrash Agadah (BaMidbar 24) that, “(Bilaam) saw that the doorways of each Israelite (tent) were not facing each other, but rather each doorway was open to the back of his neighbor’s tent, so that no one would peep into the house of his neighbor. (However, he saw that) the evil eye had started to take hold of them (to look into each other’s house), and thus (Bilaam) began to praise them so that the evil eye would not control them….”
Bilaam’s method of discipline was pre-emptive praise. His prophecy was not only a declaration to the world of our G-d’s presence and power, but his prophecy was also a reminder to the Israelites of their goodness. He said to them, “You are good and wonderful,” and, according to the Midrash, this helped the Israelites to continue to act in a good and wonderful way.
The Midrash continues, “(What is the meaning of) ‘your dwelling places, Oh Israel’? (Bilaam) was speaking about the mishkan (tabernacle) and about the Temple that Israel made so that the Shechina (G-d’s presence) would dwell among them and save them.” Thus, Bilaam’s blesing also served as a reminder to the Israelites that there was always someone looking out for them. The mishkan was like a “Big Brother” whose mere presence could serve as a daily reminder to the Israelites stay on the upright path.
These words, “Ma Tovu” entered into the liturgy early on in the development of the siddur. Rav Amram Gaon, who created the first siddur in the 9th century, wrote that one says “Ma Tovu” as one enters the synagogue. This makes sense as the synagogue is like the replacement for the Temple and this line speaks praises of holy places.
Rabbi Elliot Dorff, one of our people’s prominent theologians of this day, teaches that when we enter the synagogue and sing this song, we, like the Israelites of the midrash in their tents, are taught to think of the synagogue as a home and to check with ourselves, Have I done what I ought to do so that this place is deserving of praise? In my own home, have I done my part to create an atmosphere deserving of praise? And, finally, we can take these words as guidance for relating with G-d. Like Bilaam was compelled to bless the Israelites against his own free will, does it sometimes feel like compulsion for us to praise G-d? Perhaps, writes folklore scholar Dr. Ellen Frankel, with our praise for G-d, we can help G-d be the best G-d that G-d can be in order to continue being our partner in making the world a better place. This line, therefore, helps us to orient ourselves in our worship and gives us the kavana that we need to enter into prayer.
This discipline – for indeed, Judaism is a discipline that takes work and thought and practice like all other disciplines such sports, music, or math homework – does not have to be harsh or filled only with “Thou shalt not”’s. The blessing of Bilaam comes to teach us that people, both children and adults, can learn to do the right thing also by being praised and being told that they already do the right thing. When we perform a task or are faced with a moral decision, if we think that we can do the right thing, this will help us in doing it. And we should be the voices of praise to our children, our employees, and to the workers in the bank, post office, and in restaurants. When we praise, we allow the praise-ee the opportunity to do what is deserving of praise.
Yaron, my son, may not always do the right thing for himself, and I may not always know exactly how to guide him. But if I believe in his goodness and I show him his own goodness, I think that he has a good start in finding the right way.