No Paragraphs
We have become a society in which everything has to be analyzed. There are times when we should allow positive statements of people to remain the way they are on the surface without probing for some hidden agenda. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Frequently, the superficial begins to seep in and can change a person’s attitude.
Dependence on the Oral Law
It is well known that the written Torah does not have any vowels or punctuation. To know how to read the words and punctuate the sentences, we depend on our Oral tradition handed down to us at Sinai. There is, however, one feature in the written text of the Torah that tells us where the conclusion of a subject is. In virtually every Torah portion there are spaces that indicate the end of a paragraph. Occasionally these “paragraphs”—also known as parshiyos—can be just several words, as in the Ten Commandants: “Don’t steal;” in other instances they can be several columns long.
It is obvious then that these “paragraphs” serve a different function from the “modern” style and purpose of paragraphs.
Reflection
Rashi, citing earlier Sages, states that the spaces and separations that occur in the Torah were intended to provide Moses with the opportunity to reflect on the subject matter between paragraphs. Paragraphs in the Torah thus were not intended for grammatical purposes but rather to give Moses—and, even more so, people who are not on Moses’ level—an opportunity to pause, regurgitate and delve more deeply into what had just been studied.
Anomalies
All this will serve as an introduction to a question that has been raised concerning this week’s Torah portion of Balak. The entire section—comprising over a hundred verses—is one long paragraph in the Torah scroll.
Why was there no need to break-up the narrative to allow Moses and everyone else the opportunity to reflect on the subject matter?
There is one other anomaly in this week’s Parsha that will help shed light on this matter. This Parsha is the only one that contains words of prophecy uttered by a most vile individual, Bilam. This heathen prophet was hired by Balak, the King of Moab to curse the Jewish people. Instead of curses, G-d made sure that only blessings would come from his mouth. These blessings rank among the most beautiful and inspiring words of spiritual poetry in all of the Torah. So much so, that sections of it have been in incorporated in our daily liturgy, such as the prayer “Mah tovu..-How goodly are your tents..”
However, our Sages tell us that as positive and beautiful were his utterances; Bilam’s thoughts were entirely evil and were the opposite of what G-d compelled him to speak. In other words, these blessings were only blessings on the surface. Were we to probe beneath the surface to find their underlying intent that existed in the mind and heart of Bilam, we would find curses and not blessings.
Don’t Probe
We can now appreciate why the Torah leaves no room for reflection in this Parsha, to underscore that there are times when it is better to leave well enough alone. Occasionally, it is preferable to leave things the way they are on the surface and do not try to probe into the psyche of a person and his statements to find that the intentions are not as pure as they appear on the surface.
We have become a society in which everything has to be analyzed. There are political analysts, business analysts, psycho analysts and every other type of profession that employs people whose primary function it is to reflect, probe and parse other people’s words. In many situations this is positive and beneficial. But there are times when we should leave the positive, albeit, superficial statements of people the way they are on the surface. Give people — who say good things — the benefit of the doubt. Don’t try to find a trace of insincerity beneath the surface because if one will search he will always find some imperfection. Rather than unearth it and allow it to surface, let the person’s positive speech define him or her, not his or her hidden thoughts. In many situations the superficial begins to seep in and can change a person’s attitude.
The Secret
One could explain the anomaly of this week’s Parsha not having any breaks or pauses in yet another way. One of the distinctive elements of this Parsha is that it contains prophecies concerning the coming of the Moshiach. One of the characteristics of the Messianic Age is that its precise timing was and will always be a secret until it happens.
By keeping the entire Parsha “closed,” the Torah intimates to us that we should not focus on when Moshiach will come. Rather we should focus our efforts on praying, hoping and working for Moshiach to come.
In the words of the Talmud: “Moshiach’s coming will be when we are distracted from it.” How do we reconcile this statement with many others of our Sages that we are commanded to wait for Moshiach’s coming every day?
One answer is to define the word wait. It means to yearn for it and prepare for it. When one tries to figure out when it will happen but does nothing to make it happen, he misses the whole point. It can be compared to someone who tries to figure out how to open the door, without first trying to simply turn the door knob.
On yet a deeper level, the “closed” nature of this Parsha conveys to us the notion that whatever we think we can know about Moshiach and the Messianic Era, there will always be something closed and hidden from us. It will be much greater and more sublime than anything we can imagine.
From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Balak by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.
