The Torah, Rambam insists, is based on the idea of human freedom – were we not free to choose our future, to determine our own actions, then the idea of giving us commandments would make no sense, and rewarding or punishing us for our fidelity to God’s ideals would be morally and logically preposterous. For the great Medieval rabbi, human freedom is woven into the very fabric of creation.
The idea that we are free, and therefore responsible for the consequences of our choices, no longer musters universal support. Complicated by the impact of genetics (how free are we if our genes predispose us to one choice or another?), by the impact of social norms (how free can we be if habit and consensus limit and frame our choice- making?), it is no simple matter to insist that human choice, though bounded, is still fundamentally free. We are, indeed, the captains of our souls, and the masters of our own destiny.
That issue rises in this Torah portion, as the Moabite king, Balak, terrified at the prospect of the powerful Israelite tribes moving through his territory, decides to hire the gentile prophet, Balaam, to curse the Israelites, making it possible to defeat them in battle. The king sends a group of dignitaries to invite Balaam to accept this questionable assignment, and Balaam responds, “Though Balak were to give me his house full of silver and gold, I could not do anything, big or little, contrary to the command of the Lord my God.” He then invites the dignitaries to spend the night so he can have time to confer with God and report back what God demands.
Balaam’s piety may be feigned or it may be sincere. He may be reflecting a belief in determinism (I can’t choose anything other than what God has determined for me) or merely obedience (I won’t choose anything other than what God demands). But our interest is not in his words, but in what God says next. God visits Balaam in a dream and tells the prophet, “If these men have come to invite you, you may go with them. But whatever I command you, that you shall do.”
Baalam’s dream is quite convenient, given that he’s just been offered a fortune to go with the dignitaries, and God – in his dream – allows him to make that choice. Looking carefully at God’s words, what is clear is that God says that you, Balaam, get to make this call. Go if you want; stay if you want. But when it comes time to speak, please choose to adhere to my wishes.
In other words, the choice is yours, human. You are free to decide for yourself. In the words of the Talmud, “A person is led the way s/he wishes to go.”
Be-Midbar Rabbah, the ancient midrash to the Book of Numbers, makes God’s perspective explicit: “I [God] don’t desire the destruction of the wicked, but since you [Balaam] are bent on following this path that will lead to your destruction, I will not prevent you from doing so.” Rambam underscores this point when he teaches, “The Creator does not compel or decree that people should do either good or bad. Rather, everything is left to their own choice.”
If in the Bible, where God’s will seems so clear and God’s voice resonates, free will is immutable, how much the more so in our world, where God’s will is often more nuanced and God’s voice more muted? Human freedom, however qualified by the limitations of biology, society, gender, wealth, is still freedom. We are the authors of our actions, and we are responsible for our choices.
Of course, being free to choose does not make every choice equally valid. We are free to make the right choices, and we are free to make the wrong ones. Freedom to choose does not remove the consequences of our choices. Instead we are free to pay the price for the choices we have made, or to harvest the benefits of choices well made.
Balaam chose badly, and paid with his life for his poor choice. We, every moment are faced with the choice – to enhance life, to nurture the divine image in our fellow human beings and in all of creation, to add our voices to the call of shalom/peace.
Choose wisely, you who are free.
Shabbat shalom.