“No More Curses You Can’t Undo: Parashat Balak 5785” Rabbi Oberstein’s Sermon, 7/11/25
Rabbi Andrew Oberstein
Qabbalat Shabbat, July 11, 2025
Temple Israel of Boston
Tonight,
if I may,
I’d like to tell you a story.
*****
In the summer of 2005,
I was a recent high school graduate,
spending my last summer in Los Angeles before starting college at Emerson.
I thought surely Boston would be a quick four-year detour before returning to
California for good.
Needless to say,
20 years later,
I’ve spent more of my life here in the northeast than I ever did in L.A.
And somehow,
along the way,
I’ve become a proud New Englander.
*****
This summer marks 20 years not just since moving back east,
but since coming out.
In 2005,
I found the courage to live truthfully,
openly,
and without shame.
And to mark that moment,
I did something big:
I went to my first Pride Parade.
*****
At 18,
I had no idea what to expect.
I didn’t know how to act,
or dress,
or fit in.
But with a close friend by my side,
I showed up as myself.
And what I saw were thousands and thousands of others doing the same.
None of us was alone.
Before social media,
this was how we saw each other.
This was where we were seen.
*****
In more recent years,
I haven’t always felt the same pull to Pride.
It’s usually on Shabbat.
It’s loud and crowded.
And honestly,
at a place like Temple Israel,
every day feels like pride.
So I’ve often opted out.
*****
But this year felt different.
*****
The voices are louder.
The ones that say trans people shouldn’t get healthcare.
That drag queens are a threat.
That kids shouldn’t learn about people like me.
That books about LGBT families shouldn’t be on library shelves.
That our marriages,
our safety,
our dignity are up for debate.
And those voices have power.
And they’re not just online.
And sometimes they’re accompanied by very real violence.
In this moment,
it can be hard to feel like the arc of the moral universe is bending toward justice,
no matter how long.
*****
So this year,
I didn’t just attend the parade –
I marched.
****
And at the same time,
this year,
a close friend of mine was harassed at a Pride event in California for wearing a
Jewish star necklace.
This year,
the New York Dyke March officially banned Zionists –
without defining the term –
expelling longtime Jewish organizers.
KeshetUK, the only Jewish LGBT+ education and training charity in the United
Kingdom, had to pull out of London Pride due to lack of assurances that Jews
would feel physically and psychologically safe at the festival.
The 15th annual Brooklyn Pride Interfaith Service was canceled.
The Reform rabbi set to host it said her congregation’s connection to Israel
– which she described as deep,
complex,
and largely not supportive of the current government –
was one of the reasons it was no longer welcome.
*****
So this year,
I showed up with a different kind of hesitation.
But I showed up.
I marched with Keshet and Boston’s Jewish community.
I wore a large Jewish star necklace and carried a sign with a Jewish star over a rainbow background –
(a flag that has actually been banned at multiple other Pride celebrations)
*****
I braced for a curse.
I expected slurs,
or worse.
It’s happened to others,
why not me?
But what I saw instead were crowds –
in the rain!
– lining the streets.
And as we marched,
I heard so many people shout right at us:
“We love you!”
“We support you!”
For a mile and half,
I heard nothing but love showered on us.
I saw many of you along that route.
I hugged many of you along that route.
And most impactfully,
I saw myself at 18 along that route.
I saw myself in the queer youth attending their first pride parade,
maybe even admiring the confident,
self-assured LGBT adults proudly marching.
I’ve become one of those adults that my teenage self needed to see.
*****
What I expected to be a day of curse turned out to be a day of blessing.
A surprise blessing.
A moment of healing I didn’t know I needed.
*****
Which is where my story bleeds into the story of this week’s Torah portion,
Balak.
This week,
Balak,
a Moabite king,
hires the prophet Balaam to curse the Israelites.
He wants them condemned,
damned,
destroyed.
And in Numbers Chapter 24,
this prophet Balaam,
at the king’s insistence,
looks up and sees all of the Israelites gathered together,
as he opens his mouth and delivers his preamble:
נְֻ֤אם ִּב ְל ָע ֙ם ְּב֣נֹו ְב ֔עֹר”
Word of Balaam son of Beor,
word of the man whose eye is true,
word of one who hears God’s speech,
who beholds visions from the Almighty,
prostrate,
but with eyes unveiled:”
And then,
what follows is far from the expected curse.
What comes out of Balaam’s mouth are the words now made famous by our
morning liturgy:
“Mah Tovu Ohalecha Yaakov”
–
Look how good your tents are,
Jacob!
How gorgeous is this –
how beautiful and good and blessed is this group of Jews.
*****
Now in the context of the biblical story,
this is far from the first time Balaam has offered a blessing when the King has
asked him to offer a curse!
So,
arguably,
the King really should have seen this coming.
But when we have curse on the mind,
it’s sometimes impossible to even imagine blessing.
Curses can blind us to the good right in front of our eyes.
*****
Balak expected a curse and was livid when met with Balaam’s blessing.
I expected a curse and was instead overcome with a sense of gratitude for an
unexpected blessing.
*****
The curses in this world are very real.
Antisemitism is alive and well –
I don’t need to tell any of you that.
As are homophobia and transphobia.
But what doesn’t make the news are acts of love.
Parents loving their queer kids is not in the New York Times.
Jews being loved and welcomed and embraced by our friends and neighbors
doesn’t go viral.
Jewish communities welcoming LGBT people with open arms, and queer spaces
welcoming Jews openly and without ideological litmus tests –
these are not headlines that gather enough clicks to entice advertisers.
But that doesn’t mean they’re not real.
*****
It would be easy to convince you that we are alone in this world and have no allies
and no support.
Easy maybe,
but not true,
Certainly not a complete picture.
This year,
for all of us,
no matter who you are,
no matter who might be trying to make you afraid,
you are a blessing and deserving of blessing.
And there are more of us who believe that than you realize.
Balaam saw a group of Israelites waiting to be cursed and told them their
encampment looked like palm-groves and gardens and cedars, dripping with
moisture, with deep roots in abundant water.
Surely, a vision that could only be seen from a distance.
Surely an image the Israelites could not have even had of themselves.
*****
This week,
may you find blessings where you least expect them.
May the blessings you experience surprise and delight you.
When you feel a curse coming up in your own throat,
may you find that sacred inner voice to help you transform it into a blessing.
Mah Tovu –
how good it is,
to be who we are,
and to be loved for it.
Eizeh Bracha –
What a blessing.