Posted on 06/24/21
After three failed attempts to coax Bilaam to curse the Jewish nation, Balak finally reaches a point of exasperation.
Balak’s anger flared against Bilaam and he clapped his hands. (במדבר כד י)
Balak castigates Bilaam for not only not cursing them but for blessing them three times. Indignantly, he instructs Bilaam to flee back to his place.
In what seems to be the first reference in the Torah to the notion of ‘clapping’ one’s hands together, one wonders why the Torah sought to depict this expression of grief after it already stated he was angry. Does it really make a difference in knowing how Balak threw his tantrum?
Ironically, this emotional mode used to display frustration is similar to one’s clapping one’s hands together in moments of joy.
The holy Noam Elimelech interprets the Torah’s description at the dedication of the Mishkan, of Aharon ‘raising his hands toward the people’, as being done in the spirit of the verse in Eichah that encourages — ‘Let us lift up our hearts to our כפים, palm/hands, to G-d in heaven’, to break out in spontaneous and joyous clapping in devotion to Hashem.
How is that the same instrument we use to ‘bemoan’ our fate is the very same one we use to emote with ‘joy’?
Rav S.R. Hirsch explains that our open outstretched hands symbolize man’s desire for ‘receiving’ his needs for happiness. When his wishes are not realized, he instinctively strikes his ‘open’ hands one against the other as if to say: “so this is what I asked for, this is what to be expected!?”, accordingly an expression of surprise or even disgust.
Perhaps, in the same vein, I might add, that when we experience a moment of realized hopes, we are attesting to that privilege by gratefully and loudly ‘applauding’ our appreciation for that gift.
The verb used here in the context of complaint is ויספק את כפיו — and he ‘struck’ his hands.
King David describes the revelation in the time of the final redemption when all of creation will sing out in praise and gratitude, he describes how even ‘the rivers, ימחאו כף — will clap’ in joy. (תהלים צח ח)
The term ספק literally means ‘strike’, in contrast to מחה which means more accurately ‘erase’.
Balak ‘struck’ out angrily in frustration, in disappointment over his expected dividends in life that never arrived — symbolized in his open palms, punishing them for their failure to provide the goods.
The rivers, however, ‘erase’ any notion of entitlement, the clapping of its proverbial palms representing a submission to the will of G-d that permeates every facet of life.
Among the Belzer chassidim there is a fascinating custom on the night of the Seder. Before the children begin asking the Mah Nishtana, they all clap.
In explaining this ritual, the third Rebbe of Belz, Reb Yissochor Dov Rokeach, directs us to a Midrash which describes young children being asked why the letter כ — chof, is doubled (with כ used at the beginning and amidst the word and the ך at the end). The child first pointed out that the letter כ when spelled out fully is כף, which means a palm/hand. He then went on to say that there is a double ‘palm/hand’ in our world, since the Torah, the life force of the universe was given directly from the palm of Hashem to the palm of Moshe. (ב"ר א יא)
The Rebbe went on to say, that we therefore present our two palms, joining them together in joyous applause, celebrating the privilege of being the embodiment of its principles that enthuse every component of our lives.
The prophetic blessing of Bilaam that finally broke the patience of Balak begins with that stunning reality: How goodly are your tents, O Yaakov, your dwelling places, O Yisroel. As the Seforno enlightens, this refers to the ‘houses of Torah’ and their ‘houses of worship’.
There is only one applause that resounds through creation — the clapping together of the ‘palm’ of Hashem — His word that He extended to us through the agency of Moshe, and the ‘palm’ of His beloved nation — who devotes their every effort in promoting its message.
Every expression of happiness in life is only as meaningful as the words of Torah that inspire those experiences of our lives, defining our actions in its light.
No wonder Balak ‘claps’ dejectedly in utter disappointment precisely at this juncture.
To borrow from an old popular song: If you’re happy and you know [where] it [is rooted], clap your hands!
באהבה,
צבי יהודה טייכמאן