The Difference Between Hashem's Word and Hashem's Will

Balak desperately wanted to curse the Jewish people, and he turned to Balaam in the hope that he could accomplish what no army could.

At first, Balaam appears righteous. When Balak's messengers arrive, Hashem tells him clearly: "You shall not go with them; you shall not curse the people, for they are blessed" (Numbers 22:12).

Balaam then responds with impressive sounding words: "If Balak would give me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot go beyond the word of Hashem..." (22:18).

Yet when Balak sends a second delegation, consisting of even more distinguished officials, the situation changes. This time Hashem tells Balaam, "If the men have come to call you, rise up, go with them; but only the thing that I shall speak to you, that shall you do" (22:20).

Balaam sets out on the journey, but the Torah immediately tells us that "Hashem's anger was kindled because he was going" (22:22). Shortly afterward, an angel blocks the path of his donkey.

The commentators grapple with an obvious question. Why did Hashem initially forbid Balaam from going, only to later permit it?

The Talmud derives from this episode a fundamental principle: "On the path a person wants to take, he is led" (Makkot 10b).

The Path a Person Chooses

Hashem grants every person free choice. Sometimes a person wants something that is contrary to Hashem's will, yet Hashem does not force him to stop. There may be warning signs. A person's conscience may trouble him. Circumstances may arise that encourage him to reconsider. But if he insists on continuing, Hashem allows him to follow the path he has chosen.

This does not mean Hashem approves of that path. It simply means that free will remains intact.

Ultimately, Hashem decides whether the person's plans will succeed. Balaam was permitted to go, but he was never permitted to accomplish what he wanted. In the end, every curse he attempted to utter became a blessing.

Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, of blessed memory, draws a powerful lesson from this idea.

Hashem's Word and Hashem's Will

The prophet Jeremiah quotes Hashem regarding the worship of Baal:

"They built the high places of Baal, to burn their children in the fire as offerings to Baal, which I did not command, nor did I speak, nor did it enter My mind" (Jeremiah 19:5).

Rabbi Elchanan explains that this verse reveals three levels in a person's relationship with Hashem: Hashem's command, Hashem's spoken word, and Hashem's will.

Sometimes something is explicitly forbidden. Sometimes something is explicitly commanded. But beyond the written command lies a deeper question: Is this what Hashem wants?

A person can technically avoid violating an explicit command while still acting against the spirit of what Hashem desires.

This was Balaam's mistake.

Notice the wording he uses: "I cannot go beyond the word of Hashem."

Balaam was careful not to violate Hashem's direct command. However, he had little interest in fulfilling Hashem's will. The moment he saw a way to pursue his personal agenda without openly defying a command, he eagerly took it.

That was the root of his wickedness.

More Than What Is Permitted

This idea contains an important lesson for all of us.

Much of life does not fall neatly into categories of forbidden and permitted. Many of our daily choices involve a different question entirely: Is this the right thing to do?

A person can spend his life asking, "Am I allowed to do this?" while rarely asking, "Is this what Hashem wants from me?"

Living as a Jew means striving not only to follow Hashem's word, but also to seek Hashem's will.

The Talmud teaches that a person is led along the path he chooses. The question is whether the path we want is truly the path that Hashem wants for us.

The Angel of Mercy

Balaam chose to pursue a path that was contrary to Hashem's will, and almost immediately he encountered resistance.

The Torah tells us that Hashem's anger was kindled because he was going, and an angel stood in the road as an adversary to him. The donkey saw the angel standing in the path with a drawn sword and repeatedly turned aside.

At first glance, the angel appears frightening. An angel standing in the road with a sword sounds like a messenger of judgment.

Yet Rashi offers a surprising explanation. The angel was actually an angel of mercy.

Why?

Because he was trying to stop Balaam from sinning. He was attempting to prevent Balaam from continuing down a path that would ultimately destroy him.

Sometimes we encounter similar "angels" in our own lives.

Plans fall apart.

Doors close.

Unexpected obstacles appear.

Things do not unfold the way we hoped.

Our first reaction is often frustration. We see an obstacle and assume it is working against us. But perhaps, like Balaam's angel, it is actually working for us.

Perhaps the delay itself is an act of mercy.

The Donkey's Message

Only later does Balaam begin to understand.

After Hashem opens the donkey's mouth, she asks him a simple question: "What have I done to you that you have struck me these three times?"

On a deeper level, the donkey seems to be teaching Balaam a profound lesson.

Why are you angry at me?

Why are you treating me as though I am the cause of your problems?

I am only a messenger.

Everything comes from Hashem.

The donkey, the angel, and the obstacles in Balaam's path were all serving the same purpose. They were trying to redirect him before it was too late.

The question is whether he was willing to listen.

The same question confronts us as well. When obstacles arise, do we immediately become angry and frustrated, or do we pause and ask whether Hashem may be trying to teach us something?

Going Back to Routine

One of the most striking verses in the entire story appears at the very end:

"Then Balaam rose and went and returned to his place, and Balak too went on his way" (Numbers 24:25).

It is a surprisingly ordinary ending to an extraordinary story.

Hashem performed open miracles. Balaam repeatedly attempted to curse the Jewish people, yet blessings emerged from his mouth instead. A donkey spoke. An angel appeared. The hand of Hashem was revealed again and again.

And yet nothing changed.

Balaam returned to his place.

Balak went on his way.

They resumed their routines as though nothing had happened.

Throughout life, Hashem sends us messages in countless ways. Sometimes they come through unexpected events, closed doors, delays, successes, or disappointments. Every experience contains the potential for growth and reflection.

The question is whether we notice.

Do we simply return to routine, or do we stop and ask what Hashem may be trying to teach us?

That may be the greatest lesson of all from the story of Balak and Balaam.