In this week’s Torah portion, “Balak,” we read about the prophet Balaam, who was hired Balak, the king of Moab, to curse the Jewish people as they approached the Land of Israel. But instead, God transformed his curses into blessings.
One of Balaam’s blessings became a central part of the Jewish prayer service and is recited every morning in the “Shaharit” prayer: “How good are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel” (Numbers 24:5).
The background to this blessing, according to our sages, comes after Balaam lifted his eyes toward the people of Israel and saw the layout of their dwellings, as it is said: “‘And Balaam saw Israel dwelling tribe by tribe’ – What did he see? He saw that the entrances of their tents were not facing each other” (Bava Batra 60a).
Why did this specific detail so impress Balaam and move him to utter such a powerful expression of admiration?
At first glance, it seems like a simple and logical residential layout. Why would anyone place the entrance of his home facing directly into his neighbor’s?
But this layout was more than just a matter of architectural design. The non-facing entrances symbolized a deep value: respect for others’ privacy. The Israelites impressed Balaam not just by the placement of their tents but by their discretion – their refusal to intrude into each other’s lives.
Many human problems arise from prying, jealous, judgmental eyes – eyes that compare, belittle, envy, or look for faults in others’ lives or families.
A truly blessed and admirable community is one in which members are attentive to others’ needs and pain but do not invade their privacy.
Another person’s “tent” is his own sacred space; we have no right to look inside, and certainly no right to gossip about what’s inside.
A quality community is one that cares deeply but does not meddle, one that doesn’t ignore suffering but also doesn’t poke around out of curiosity or superiority.
The life of the individual is sacred, and we are not entitled to scrutinize it.
When a person trains himself not to look at others’ lives, his own life becomes better because many personal struggles come from measuring ourselves against the lives of others: our surroundings, society, extended family.
When a person faces hardship, part of the emotional pain is the thought “Why did this happen only to me?” Too often, the social response to someone’s personal difficulty amplifies the pain and makes it harder to deal with.
That is why during Jewish wedding celebrations, we offer the following blessing: “Gladden the beloved friends [the bride and the groom] as You gladdened Your creation [Adam] in the Garden of Eden from days of old.” Why do we mention Adam – the first human – in this blessing? Were his days so joyful and peaceful that we wish the same for the couple? In truth, Adam’s life in Eden was blissful in one unique way: He had no one to compare himself to. He never thought, “Look how good so-and-so has it” or “What a wonderful family they have.” There was no so-and-so. He simply accepted life as it was, without the burden of comparison or social pressure.
When those probing eyes are absent, life is so much easier.
In short: Compassionate eyes and a kind heart – yes. Probing eyes and a gossiping tongue – no. ■
The writer is rabbi of the Western Wall and holy sites.