Rabbi's Corner

In this week’s parashah, Parashat Balak, we find the following: “As I see them from the mountaintops and gaze upon them from the heights, there is a people who dwells apart and is not reckoned among the nations.” (BeMidbar 23:9) Rebbe Nachman of Breslov teaches that the prayers of Am Yisrael (the People Israel) lift it up beyond the limitations of nature going so far as to be able to defy and to alter nature as well (Likutei Moharan, I:216) For example, Abarbanel writes that in addition to the fact our ancient ancestors preserved our traditional dress, language, and names during their enslavement in Egypt, by virtue of the fact that Am Yisrael lived apart from the Egyptians in a totally separate area of Egypt (i.e.- Goshen), there was not a single case of assimilation thereby causing their redemption from slavery.  Rashi interprets that Am Yisrael has an entirely separate account from the rest of the nations of the world.  The Zohar and the Midrash say that Am Yisrael exists on a totally different spiritual plane from all the other nations.  Our Tradition teaches that Hashem personally and directly protects and provides for Am Yisrael, especially those who dwell in Eretz Yisrael.  Perhaps the following Chasidic parable will help to explain this most important concept:

The King’s son was restless.  He was tired of studying those thick yellow-paged volumes of the King’s law and lore.  The King often chastised him that a worthy prince should spend every waking hour learning the regal volumes.  He closed the book, took a deep breath, and gazed out the palace window from his princely chambers.  He longed to run in the expanse of the endless green pastures that were spread out before him.  Far in the distance, he could see a few black and white specks.  These “specks” were a herd of cows grazing on the horizon.  He licked his lips and exclaimed, “How nice it would be to drink a fresh glass of milk right now!”  With that, the Prince slipped outside without being noticed.  He exited the palace grounds and made a beeline for the inviting meadows.  Like a lark, he hopped and skipped along the tall grass toward the direction of the herd of cows.  He felt so free without those heavy old volumes weighing him down.  By the time he reached the grazing herd of cows, a peasant boy was prodding them to begin their walk home in the direction of the cowshed not far away.

Just as the cows were entering the cowshed, the Prince caught up with the peasant lad.  “Are you going to milk the cows now?” he asked the peasant boy.  “Yes, I am,” the lad answered. “Would you like to help me?”  “I would love to!” exclaimed the Prince brimming over with excitement.  The peasant lad wore heavy coarse blue coveralls and knee-high black herdsman boots.  Needless-to-say, the Prince was not exactly dressed for the occasion of milking a cow.  His highly shined patent leather slippers became ruined.  His silk breeches were coated knee high with cow manure.  A mixture of mud and straw covered him from head to toe.  And all of this for a glass of milk!

Upon his return, the Prince was not allowed to reenter the palace until three husky palace sentries had undressed him, burned his filthy and wreaking clothes, and bathed him in scalding hot water while scrubbing him from head to toe with stiff bristle brushes.  The Prince shrieked in torment while all this was taking place.  After he was cleaned and dressed, he was ushered into the King’s presence.  The King looked at the Prince and patiently asked, “My son, why did you close your books and so terribly soil yourself?”  “I am sorry, Father,” the Prince replied feeling truly ashamed of himself.  “I merely wanted an intermission from my studies and a glass of milk.”  “Dearest son, said the King, “do the palace grounds lack lush gardens, fragrant groves, or tree-lined pathways by bubbling brooks so much so that you needed to search for beauty on the outside?  After all, you are the King’s son!  You do not have to milk a cow in order to drink a glass of milk!  You belong in the Palace – not in a cowshed!  Ask me for all your needs, and I shall always arrange for them to be fulfilled.”  “But Father, “answered the lad, “you are so busy!  I am ashamed to bother you for such a trivial thing as a glass of milk.”  “Nonsense,” replied the King.  “You are my only son.  My entire kingdom is worthless without you.  On the contrary, I am and will always be happy to hear your voice.”

The Prince of the parable is the symbol of Am Yisrael, while the palace with its thick yellow-paged volumes of the King’s law and lore are the symbol of the World of Torah Learning.  The Prince’s exquisite garments are symbolic of the Jewish soul, while the peasant lad is the symbol of the rest of the nations of the world.  By leaving the palace and mingling with the peasant lad, the Prince fled his duty to the Torah and permanently soiled his soul.  As we are like the King’s son, we must never close the regal volumes of the Torah --- not even for a moment.  For it  is through the study of Torah, the completion of its mitzvot (duties), and prayer from our hearts that we merit and receive the love and protection of Hashem, the King of Kings, each and every day of our lives.