On the Threshold of Greatness (II): the Singular People

By Tuvia Brodie

The Torah story of Bilaam is about a non-Jewish prophet who is hired by a non-Jewish king to curse the Jews. This story may be more than 3,300 years old, but it could also be a modern story. Our tradition teaches that Bilaam was a great prophet, perhaps comparable to the Jewish Moses. He agrees to curse the Jews, but he cannot do so; the words he produces are blessings.

Writing about this story, Rabbi Ephraim Schwartz asks a question: the Jews are so perfect they get only blessings? Jewish history is the story of Jewish sin and punishment. If anything, the Jews appear extraordinarily imperfect. Why is Bilaam unable to curse them?

The answer, Rabbi Schwartz suggests, lies in what Bilaam says during his (failed) attempts to curse. To understand what Rabbi Schwartz is about to explain, let me tell you about my world. I come from an Orthodox Jewish community where parents would, by American standards, be called, ‘strict’. These parents are not shy about scolding or ‘adjusting’ their children—in private. In public, even those children who are constantly a challenge are praised.

If a child terrorizes you by spilling grape juice into your lap—because he can—and you go over to his mother to vent your anger—well, you had better be prepared to duck because there is no anger like the anger of a mother whose child has just been ‘attacked’.

The mother will not curse the child. Why not? Is she blind? No, she is not blind. She will see the child’s imperfections but she will not recite them to you. Yes, she will speak to her child and make ‘adjustments’; but she reacts as she does because she understands the delicate relationship a parent has with a child, and she knows that she must both adjust the child—and protect it (even as she punishes).

Parenting is not just about punishment. It is a balancing act, where you have to make sure your child knows what is right, gets the corrections and punishments he needs—and understands that your love will always be there; because his (and her) future depends most of all on how you show your love, not just your strap.

So it is with G-d and the Jews. The Jews may not be perfect, but Bilaam fails: he cannot curse because G-d will not curse… Israel is a nation that dwells alone and is not reckoned among the nations… G-d has blessed them. G-d sees no iniquity in Yaacov and saw no perversity in Israel. G-d is with [Israel] and the friendship of the King is with [them].

As Rabbi Schwartz points out, the commentary of Rashi on these words is interesting: Bilaam does not say that G-d declares that the Jews have no iniquity or perversity or sin. Rather, G-d simply does not acknowledge it. He refuses to speak of it just as the mother, in public, refuses to speak ill of her child.

The child is special. Israel is special. In addition, Israel has the friendship of the King. Throughout our Tanach, we see how the King does indeed scold, warn and yes, punish the Jews; but that punishment is not meted out because the Jews are evil or rejected by G-d. Rather, it is because the King’s standards are high, the King sees the Jews’ potential, and wants to make sure they grow to that promise.

For example, in my own world, I have seen some of those terroristic children grow up. They no longer spill grape juice in your lap. Some of them have become leaders. Some are brilliant scholars. A couple are brilliant scholars who have become charismatic leaders. These former child terrorists have grown to greatness because of the parenting they received and because of the love and ‘corrections’ they received from ‘kings’ –important teachers, mentors and leaders—along the way. The same is true for Israel, with the qualification that the parent, the ‘kings’ and the teachers are all the same—G-d.

Our Tanach tells us repeatedly that G-d has chosen the Jewish people. He sees our potential for greatness—and when we ‘grow up’, we will see that, too. Until then, he will protect us, scold us, and punish us when we deserve because He knows of our greatness to come. Again, the King’s standards are high—but only because He wants the best for his chosen.

This is an important message for us today, because the Zionism that has so inspired us for over a hundred years has a flaw. Zionism’s founding concept is that we should become (through a national homeland) just ‘like everybody else’. But as the story of Bilaam teaches us, our greatness does not come from our being ‘like everybody else’. As Bilaam himself says, ‘G-d does not curse..[This] is a nation that dwells apart and is not reckoned among the nations [emphasis mine].’ Our greatness comes specifically and explicitly from being different, not from being the same. A dream that only gets us to be ‘like everyone else’ does not take us to greatness; it takes us to ‘average’ which, if you think about it, is what the phrase ‘everybody else’ really means.

A story recently appeared in American sports news about a 14-year old (American) high school football player whose skill allows him to play at a high competitive level against college players (in summer leagues). His potential is enormous, but not because he aspires to be ‘like everybody else’. His behaviour is not ‘like every other 14-year old’: on weekends (he is a wide receiver, which means his job on the football field is to catch a ball thrown to him), he does not do what other 14 year olds do. Instead, he practices, catching up to 1,500 throws a weekend. He will be great because he is different-- and he works at it!

This different-ness, coupled with ‘working at it’ is the secret of the greatness to come for the Jewish nation. G-d set us apart. He taught us how to reach for greatness. Many know how to 'work at it'. Now, the rest of us must make a decision: do we fritter away our weekends with leisure, or do we ‘catch 1,500 throws’? How we answer this question will determine if we will be ‘like everyone else’, or if we will be great. That 14-year old knows his answer: he wants to be great.

We know from our heritage that greatness is in us. It has been programed into us and then refined across countless generations for more than 3,300 years. We are a singular people. No other people have such a distinct focus, and no other nation has a 3,300-year continuous history with a continuous, growing religion. Strangely, horrifically, the only modern analogy I can think of is Hitler’s Third Reich, which was a concept that shaped and unified a nation around a singular ideal which was intended to last 1,000 years. But the Nazi ideal was evil. Its foundation sanctioned murder and was responsible not only for the killing of six million Jews, but also for another 50 million people.

Our singular ideal is different. Yes, some say we are no different from those Nazis. But we know that is a lie. Our singular ideal focuses on life, not death. It focuses on building, not destroying. It has set us apart for more than 3,300 years. It is the reason we have survived, this singularity. It is the reason we are hated. It is also what will make us great. Indeed, when you have this kind of potential, why would you want to be like ‘everyone else’?

Many Jews tell us, ‘You have to be like everybody else.’ But if you have ever been a teenager, you may understand that social peer pressure does not typically lead to greatness. In his own way, that 14 year old non –Jewish American football player knows this. He understands that, to be great, he must be different; he must believe; and he must work.

In Israel today, we are reaching a critical mass of Jews who also know this—about their heritage and their land. These Jews, your brethren, know they are a people set apart. They believe-- and they work. As a people, they stand before the nations of the world with a distinct and unique belief. They are strong. They are singular. They are hated--—and today both because of that hate and in spite of it, they stand at the threshold of greatness because they cannot and do not want to stand with everybody else. All Jews, especially those in the diaspora, will soon need to answer a very fundamental question.

Where and with whom do you stand?