Parashat Balak: Like Gardens by a River

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Parashat Balak: “Like Gardens by a River”

What Do Bilam’s Blessings Teach About Israel’s Constant Connection to Hashem? 

What Makes Trees and Souls Flourish in the Land of Israel?

Last Shabbat, as I strolled through our back garden, I was struck by how much the trees had grown. Just over twenty-five years ago, they were tiny saplings. Today, they form a living wall at the edge of our property, their branches intertwined, concealing the unattractive grey house below. The transformation from tiny saplings to towering trees did not happen overnight. It unfolded so gradually that I hardly noticed it.

The same is true of my children and grandchildren. My son, who was only three years old when we planted those trees, is now nearly thirty. Over the years, he has matured from a carefree child into a responsible husband. Changes that seem imperceptible while we are living through them eventually reveal themselves all at once. My granddaughters, once tender and mischievous little girls, now stand taller than many of the adults around them. They are graduating from high school and preparing to enter either the army or Sherut Leumi (National Service).

We adults continue to grow as well, for revealed and hidden good alike. Each wrinkle arrives with a gentle measure of wisdom. It seems like only yesterday that I danced ecstatically at my own wedding. Later, I danced at the weddings of my children, and with G-d’s help, I hope to dance at the weddings of my grandchildren as well. Our skin has been tanned by years beneath the sustaining sun, our faces weathered by time, and our hearts have been opened through the steady streams of Torah in which we have immersed ourselves.

Reflecting on these changes, I am reminded of the profound insight of Rabbi Akiva. Watching water drip steadily onto a stone, he realized that if something as soft as water could eventually carve a hole in solid rock, then surely the words of Torah could penetrate and transform the human heart. Living in the Land of Israel, surrounded by the atmosphere of Torah and nourished by its teachings day after day, I have come to appreciate the truth of that lesson. Just as trees flourish through years of sunlight and water, so too people are shaped and elevated through the steady nourishment of the Land of Israel and its Torah.

What Nourishment Enabled Israel to Flourish Like a Garden?

Like the gardens beside the river in Bilam’s prophecy, growth is often imperceptible from day to day, yet over time it transforms us completely. What is the source of the nourishment that enables such flourishing? Bilam’s blessing offers a beautiful answer through its imagery of gardens, rivers, and mighty trees nourished by abundant waters.

ספר במדבר פרק כד פסוק ו כִּנְחָלִים נִטָּיוּ כְּגַנֹּת עֲלֵי נָהָר כַּאֲהָלִים נָטַע ה' כַּאֲרָזִים עֲלֵי מָיִם:

“Like valleys stretched out, like gardens by a river, like aloes planted by Hashem, like cedars beside the waters” (Bamidbar 24:6).

Although Balak hired Bilam to curse Israel, Hashem transformed his intended curses into blessings. In one of the most beautiful blessings in the Torah, Bilam compares the Israelites to flourishing gardens, fragrant aloes, and mighty cedars nourished by abundant waters.

The common thread uniting all of these images is nourishment. Gardens flourish because they receive a constant supply of water. Trees grow tall and strong because their roots remain connected to a source of life. In the same way, the spiritual vitality of Israel depends upon remaining connected to the flow of Divine blessing. This imagery echoes King David’s description of the righteous person: “He shall be as a tree planted beside streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and whose leaf does not wither, and whatever he does prospers” (Tehillim 1:3). Just as a tree flourishes through its continual access to water, so too spiritual growth depends upon remaining connected to a constant source of Divine nourishment. 

Unlike a building, which can be completed in a short time, a garden develops gradually through continual care and nourishment. Spiritual growth follows the same pattern. The Jewish people became holy not through a single moment of inspiration but through the steady nourishment of Torah, mitzvot, prayer, and Divine providence. Just as a garden must be watered continually, so too the soul requires constant nourishment in order to flourish.

Why Does Bilam Compare Israel to Gardens Beside a River?

The Midrash explains that Bilam secretly wished to deprive Israel of its spiritual vitality, yet every intended curse emerged as a blessing instead. The depth of Bilam’s evil intentions and hatred for Israel far exceeded that of the wicked Balak. While Balak merely said אָרָה/arah – “curse” (Bamidbar 22:6), Bilam intensified the request and said קָבָה/kavah – “utterly curse” (Bamidbar 22:11). Bilam led the Israelites astray through immorality, seeking to undermine Israel spiritually as well as physically – uprooting them from both this world and the World to Come (Midrash Bamidbar Rabbah 20:9).

Yet precisely through his unintended blessing, Bilam revealed the secret of Israel’s endurance and flourishing. When he declared, “Like gardens by a river,” he unknowingly testified to the enduring source of Israel’s strength.

Bilam’s blessing describes far more than physical prosperity. The people of Israel are compared to gardens because they draw their vitality from an unceasing source. A garden dependent upon occasional rainfall may flourish one season and wither the next. However, a garden planted beside a flowing river enjoys a constant source of nourishment. The river itself often goes unnoticed, yet everything around it flourishes because of its presence. Just as the river continually nourishes the tree, Torah continually nourishes the soul. The more deeply rooted we become in Torah, the more resilient and fruitful our lives become. 

Why Are Torah Scholars Compared to Rivers and Gardens?

According to Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno, the synagogues and study halls of Israel are compared to rivers that flow out to irrigate distant fields. Just as water spreads life wherever it travels, Torah scholars spread nourishing wisdom wherever they teach.

Those who teach Torah are compared to flowing rivers that carry life-giving waters to distant places, while those devoted to prayer are compared to gardens flourishing beside a river. The river channels nourishment outward, while the garden receives that nourishment and transforms it into fruit, beauty, and blessing. Together, they illustrate two complementary forms of Divine sustenance: transmitting spiritual abundance and cultivating it until it bears fruit.

This distinction reveals two important dimensions of spiritual growth. Some people excel at receiving nourishment. They devote themselves to prayer, contemplation, and personal spiritual development. Others focus on transmitting nourishment by teaching, encouraging, and guiding others. Both are essential. Just as a river and a garden depend upon one another, spiritual life requires both inward growth and outward influence.

How Do We Become Rivers of Nourishment for Others?

Much of our spiritual nourishment comes from sources that we may take for granted: daily prayer, Torah study, acts of kindness, and the quiet workings of Divine providence. These steady streams of nourishment shape us far more profoundly than occasional moments of inspiration.

Rabbi Avraham Chaim of Zlotchov explains that Bilam’s blessing, “Like cedars beside the waters,” refers not to isolated righteous individuals who keep their spirituality to themselves, but to those who remain connected to others. The ideal tzaddik receives from those greater than himself and shares with those who need guidance and encouragement. The blessings he receives do not end with him but continue onward to nourish many others (Orach LaChaim, Balak). 

Spiritual nourishment is meant to flow. Water that ceases to flow eventually becomes stagnant, whereas flowing water remains fresh and life-giving. Those who receive Torah, wisdom, and inspiration are called upon to become channels through which these blessings reach others.

Similarly, the Chozeh of Lublin explains that “Like gardens by a river” refers to those who gather together to serve Hashem and fulfill His will. The river symbolizes the Divine flow that nourishes the garden, while each person contributes according to the unique spiritual path that Hashem has planted within them (Divrei Emet, Balak). Just as no two plants in a garden are identical, each soul receives its own mission and nourishment from the same Divine wellspring.

Bilam’s blessing teaches that lasting growth depends not upon sporadic bursts of spiritual enthusiasm but upon remaining connected to a constant source of living waters. The healthiest gardens are not those that receive the most dramatic rainfall, but those continually nourished by an ever-flowing river. When we remain connected to the wellsprings of Torah and share their waters with others, we become part of the very blessing that Bilam was compelled to pronounce upon Israel.

Parashat Chukat: Miriam’s Well

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Parashat Chukat: Miriam’s Well 

What Was the Hidden Nourishment of Miriam’s Well? 

How Does Water Sustain and Revitalize Both Body and Soul? 

Water is the most essential sustaining element in the world. No living thing can survive without it – not plants, animals, or human beings. Living in a yishuv in Israel, the value of water is continually impressed upon us through occasional water shutoffs, often at the most inconvenient times. We have also learned to be careful never to waste it. Even while waiting for the shower to warm up, we collect the colder water in extra netilat yadayim (ritual handwashing) cups kept nearby for that purpose. Additional water from cooking and cleaning is often carried outside to nourish a plant or two. Here in Israel, our dependence upon water has become especially tangible through periods of drought, public prayers for rain established by the Israeli Rabbinate, and the ever-increasing water bills. 

Yet water is not only essential for physical survival. It also plays a vital role in many mitzvot. We depend upon water for netilat yadayim both before eating bread and after using the bathroom. Water is also necessary for flushing the toilet – a mitzvah I am particularly careful to observe, as it is emphasized in my Bat Mitzvah parashah: “You shall have a peg among your equipment; when you sit outside, you shall dig with it and then turn back and cover your excrement… For Hashem your G-d walks in the midst of your camp” (Devarim 23:14–15). The fact that even something as seemingly mundane as properly disposing of waste contributes to maintaining a home and community worthy of the Divine Presence teaches us that physical cleanliness and spiritual holiness are intertwined. The importance of water quality is often overlooked. Sadly, it is not always easy to obtain pure water free of chlorine and fluoride. We are blessed in Bat Ayin to live near several natural springs whose waters remain fresh through their constant movement. Immersing ourselves in natural springs, swimming in the ocean, or bathing in lakes is not only physically refreshing but also spiritually revitalizing. Flowing water has a unique capacity to refresh both body and soul, reminding us that true nourishment extends far beyond merely quenching our thirst. 

 

Why Is the Lack of Water Mentioned Immediately After the Death of Miriam? 

After reflecting upon the vital role that water plays in sustaining and revitalizing both body and soul, we can begin to appreciate the magnitude of what occurred when the Well disappeared. Imagine a nation of millions living in a barren wilderness suddenly experiencing a complete shutdown of its water supply. Water is not a luxury that can be postponed until tomorrow. Unlike many other necessities, even a brief absence of water threatens life itself. Immediately after recording Miriam’s death, the Torah informs us that the people were left without water. At first glance, these two events appear entirely unrelated. Why should the nation’s water supply be affected by the passing of Miriam? Yet the Torah's juxtaposition of these verses invites us to seek a deeper connection. 

 

ספר במדבר פרק כ פסוק א וַיָּבֹאוּ בְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל כָּל הָעֵדָה מִדְבַּר צִן בַּחֹדֶשׁ הָרִאשׁוֹן וַיֵּשֶׁב הָעָם בְּקָדֵשׁ וַתָּמָת שָׁם מִרְיָם וַתִּקָּבֵר שָׁם: (ב) וְלֹא הָיָה מַיִם לָעֵדָה וַיִּקָּהֲלוּ עַל משֶׁה וְעַל אַהֲרֹן: 

“Then came the children of Israel, even the whole congregation, into the desert of Zin, in the first of the month: and the people abode in Kadesh. Then Miriam died there and was buried there. Then there was no water for the congregation” (Bamidbar 20:1-2). 

 

Rashi explains that in Miriam’s merit, the Israelites were blessed with the Well during their forty years of desert wandering (Rashi, Bamidbar 20:1). On the tenth of Nissan, Miriam the prophetess died, and the people complained of great thirst (Babylonian Talmud, Ta’anit 9a). With Miriam’s passing, the nation suddenly found itself without water. Moshe then came upon a “rock” – actually the Well in hiding – and hit it to provoke it to provide water. Although Moshe was punished by this episode by not being allowed into the Land of Israel, the miraculous Well was renewed and continued to sustain the children of Israel in his merit.  

The people’s fearful reaction to the loss of Miriam’s Well reflects just how dependent they had become upon this miraculous source of nourishment. Yet the Torah’s emphasis on the disappearance of the Well suggests that something deeper was taking place. Miriam’s Well was not merely a source of drinking water. It was a manifestation of the spiritual life-force that Miriam herself brought to the nation. 

 

Why was the Well Specifically in the Merit of Miriam?  

Rabbi Yossi, in the name of Rabbi Yehuda, teaches: “Three good providers stood for Israel, and they were Moshe, Aharon, and Miriam. Three good gifts were given on their behalf: the Well, the Cloud, and the Manna.” The Well was in the merit of Miriam, the Cloud in Aharon’s merit, and the Manna in the merit of Moshe. When Miriam died, the Well disappeared, as it states, “Miriam died there,” followed immediately by, “and there was no water for the congregation.” The water later returned in the merit of Moshe and Aharon… (Babylonian Talmud, Ta’anit 9a).  

Rabbi Ya’acov Reischer explains that these three gifts correspond to the three pillars upon which the world stands: Torah, avodah (Divine service), and gemilut chasadim (kindness) (Pirkei Avot 1:2; Iyun Ya’acov, Ta’anit 9a). The manna corresponds to Torah, the clouds to Divine service, and the Well to kindness. 

This association sheds light on why the Well was specifically granted in Miriam’s merit. Water is the perfect symbol of kindness. Just as nothing can grow without water, neither can a nation survive without the women who quietly sustain, encourage, and nurture life. Water nourishes without drawing attention to itself, and so did Miriam. Her contribution was not expressed through public leadership alone but through her constant concern for the physical and spiritual well-being of others. Without this feminine quality, nothing can be conceived, born, or kept alive. 

 

How Can Miriam Herself be Called a Well?  

Not only is there a Well of Miriam; rather, Miriam herself is the Well. She is the eternal nurturing power latent within the Jewish people (Eishet Chayil: Women in the Bible, p. 131). Just as a well continually provides life-giving water to all who draw from it, Miriam devoted her life to sustaining her people. She watched over Moshe’s basket at the Nile in his infancy (Zohar III 103a), led the women in song and exuberant praise after the Splitting of the Sea on the banks of the Reed-Sea (Midrash Bamidbar Rabbah 1:2), and inspired faith during some of the most challenging moments in Israel’s history. 

Throughout her life, Miriam embodied the quality of nurturing kindness. As a young midwife in Egypt, she helped preserve Jewish life despite Pharaoh’s decrees and even provided food and care for the infants she delivered (Shemot 1:17; Sotah 11b). At a time when despair threatened the future of the Jewish people, Miriam inspired hope, faith, and perseverance. It was entirely to Miriam’s credit that the Israelites continued to bring children into the world despite the harsh oppression of Egypt. 

Therefore, it is fitting that water – the source of life itself – flowed in her merit. When Miriam passed away, the Well vanished, for the physical well was but a reflection of the spiritual wellspring she embodied. Yet Miriam’s spiritual wellspring will never disappear. Its nourishing influence continues to flow through the Jewish people to this day. 

 

How Did Miriam’s Well Nourish Israel with More Than Water? 

The Well of Miriam was far more than a miraculous source of physical water. “Although its outer dimension was water, its interior was the Torah of Atzilut,” and through the Well of Miriam,Israel was prepared to receive the deepest dimensions of Torah (Sefer Leshem Shevo VeAchlamah, Sefer HaDe’ah, Part II, Drush 5, Anaf 3, Siman 1). 

This insight transforms our understanding of nourishment. Water not only sustains the body. The Torah repeatedly compares spiritual wisdom to water because both are essential for life. Just as the body cannot survive without water, the soul cannot flourish without Divine wisdom. 

According to the Leshem, the Well of Miriam nourished Israel on both levels simultaneously. Externally, it quenched their physical thirst, while internally it connected them to a hidden stream of spiritual vitality. The same waters that sustained their bodies also prepared them to receive and internalize Torah. 

Thus, true nourishment is never merely physical. The deepest forms of nourishment strengthen both body and soul. Physical and spiritual nourishment were therefore not separate gifts but two dimensions of the same flowing well. Just as Miriam’s Well carried hidden spiritual waters beneath its visible surface, every act of nourishment contains the potential to connect us with a deeper Divine source. Thus, the disappearance of the Well represented not only a threat to the people’s physical survival but also a temporary interruption in a profound channel of Divine nourishment that had sustained them throughout their wilderness journey. 

 

How Did Miriam’s Well Indicate the Arrangement of the Camp of Israel? 

As the wilderness journey drew to a close and the Israelites prepared to enter the Land of Israel, the miraculous sources of nourishment that had accompanied them in the desert would soon cease. They would need to learn to perceive Divine providence through the natural order. At this critical transition, the Israelites experienced an increased sense of independence from G-d. It would take greater sophistication and sensitivity to recognize that G-d’s constant loving concern was no less present than it had been in the desert. It was precisely at this critical juncture that the unique role of each tribe within the nation took on greater significance than ever before. Significantly, Miriam’s Well itself played a central role in defining these distinctions and highlighting their importance. 

Miriam’s Well represented not only chesed but also gevurah by defining the deliberate and divine arrangement of the camp as detailed at the beginning of the Book of Bamidbar. The borders of each tribe were initially determined by the Well, which would move to the very center of the camp, marking the position of the Tabernacle. The Well then overflowed and created a canal system that delineated the placement and boundaries of each tribe within the desert encampment. The space between the banners was filled with water flowing with a powerful current. A woman who needed to go to her friend from one banner to another would go by ship, as it is stated, “He opened a rock and water flowed; in the deserts ran rivers” (Tehillim, 105:41; Midrash Bamidbar Rabbah 19:26).   

The Well thus performed two seemingly opposite functions. On the one hand, it defined the boundaries of the tribes, enabling each tribe to recognize its distinct and unique role and mission. On the other hand, its waters flowed throughout the camp, linking all the tribes to a common flowing source of life. The division into tribes reflects a masculine principle of differentiation, whereas the very definition of the Jewish people as a nation reflects a feminine principle of connection and integration (Rabbi Nir Minussi, Who is This Rising pp. 225-226).  

Miriam’s Well preserved the distinct identity of each tribe while uniting them through one flowing source of nourishment. Healthy relationships do not erase individuality. Rather, they create connection while honoring distinction. True unity does not erase differences; rather, it harmonizes them within a greater whole. Even today, the Jewish people require both dimensions: the recognition of our unique individual roles and the awareness that we all draw from the same wellspring of Divine nourishment.