In my office there is a photograph of a donkey that was given to me by a congregant. “A donkey?” you might be thinking, “why a donkey?” This framed picture was given to me because she recalled a discussion that we had about Torah parshiot and I mentioned that my favorite was Balak. I mean what’s not to like about parashat Balak? There is a talking donkey, an angel with a fiery sword, and intended curses are turned into blessings.
But really, my love of parashat Balak goes back to the summer of 1983 or 84, my first summer at camp. On Shabbat mornings breakfast was optional, but Torah study was not. An hour or so before tefillah we would gather on the porch of our corresponding boy’s cabin and learn about the parashah of the week; and one cabin would be assigned to act out the parashah for the camp at tefillah. I don’t know what week during camp it was, but my cabin was assigned Balak. I remember learning about Balak and how he wanted Balaam to curse the Israelites. Balaam told Balak that he could only do what God allowed him to do, and of course he would curse the Israelites. From there, to the mind of a 9 or 10 yr old, it gets a little crazy. I remember one of us being the donkey, another being Bilam sitting on the donkey, and yet another as the scary, angel wielding that fiery sword. I’m not sure I remember much beyond that, but since that summer, I have looked forward to reading Balak each year.
For me, Parashat Balak, is my Torah. Whether it was my first taste or not, it is the one I remember as being first. It is the first Torah that touched me. That left an impression. But, it isn’t solely the memory of sitting on that porch with my camp friends or the memory of acting out the parashah for the camp community. It is so much more. Camp allowed me to connect to Judaism in ways I never had before. Camp fostered my Jewish identity and shaped who I am today. And when I reflect on Torah, or am asked “what is your favorite parashah?” - I think back to that summer, back to that taste of Torah. Torah was transmitted to me that morning, and I welcomed it with open arms and never looked back. “Mah Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov, Mishkenotecha Yisrael - How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel.” This blessing of Balaam’s was my gift of Torah.
