“How lovely are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places O Israel.”

If you were here very early this morning, you know that we sing this verse every week as part of the Birkat Hashachar, the morning blessings. In fact, it is in every morning service. Sometimes I make a brief comment; that I am thankful for our dwelling places, for heat or light or air conditioning or the ability to get out of the rain. I am especially grateful to get out of the rain this morning. That was some thunderstorm that rolled through overnight and while I have camped in storms like that, in a tent, I prefer the security of my solid house.

However, the rabbis who added it to the morning service took it out of context. For them it was the perfect introduction to talking about entering a sanctuary, a mishkan, a place where we worship.

It comes from today’s Torah portion and it really was about tents and wandering in the desert. You think Jews don’t camp? We most certainly did and do.

Today’s Torah portion is one of the strangest in the Bible. Balak, the king of the Moabites, wants to curse the Israelites. He hasn’t been successful defeating them in war and he figures he will hit them where it hurts most, their spirituality. He hires Balaam, a prophet to travel to Israel to do precisely that. On Balaam’s way, the donkey keeps talking to him, even throwing him off, trying to get him not to do what he has been hired for. Now I have never run into a talking donkey. The closest might be a talking horse, Mr. Ed and even as a child I knew that was a horse of a different color. It was TV. It wasn’t real. Balaam persists in his journey and his mission.

However, every time he opens his mouth to curse the Israelites, blessings emerge. His mouth is filled with words of praise. His mouth is filled with the words of G-d.

“How good are your tents O Israel, your dwelling places, O Jacob.” Is this praising the Israelites or asking a question, How Good?

This week, ironically, as Simon and Sarah and I look for a new house, I have been thinking a lot about housing. We have good housing here in Elgin. Some lovely homes. In many different price ranges. And yet I am painfully aware that there are still people in our community who cannot afford a house or an apartment.
What makes a house a good house? What makes a house a home? The discussion here was rich and ranged from the people who live in it to a good kitchen.

The rabbis teach something else as well. A home should be a mikdash me’at, a small temple. In Megilah 29a we are taught that G-d will dwell in the holy spaces we create, for they are like the Holy Temple, like the Mikdash, the Mishkan. Where G-d dwelled within.

How do we create a mikdash me’at? Does it really matter what the house looks like? How big it is? How do we create a home?

The congregation agreed that it was about peace, security, happiness, love. Jews have lived in all sorts of homes wherever they have wandered. Rabbi Larry Milder captured it well in his song, “Wherever you go there’s always someone Jewish” He sings, “Some Jews live in tents and some live in pagodas. Some Jews pay rent cuz the city’s not free. Some Jews live on farms in the hills of Minnesota. And some Jews wear no shoes and sleep by the sea.”

The rabbis teach something very important about our verse today. In the midrash we learn that what Balaam was praising Israel for was their modesty. Every time they set up their tents, they made sure they were not looking directly into each other’s tents. No need for curtains.

On our trek through greater Elgin this week, I have learned something. That open spaces and having views are important to me—even more so to my husband. Not being right on top of others is also important. But we’ve learned something else. Deciding what is a good house is hard. Is it one with lots of open space that needs a lot of work, but it is serene? Is it one on a busier street that has an undocumentable reputation for crime but a wonderful kitchen, perfect for keeping kosher? Is it the perfect suburban house but it is next door to registered sex offender? Did checking the registry violate the modesty rule? Were we somehow peering into our neighbor’s house without their permission by using the internet?

What is this quality of modesty that Balaam is praising? We are told in today’s haftarah that there are only three things that G-d requires of us, “To justly, to love mercy and to walk modestly with G-d.” Often that modesty is translated as humbly. My mother’s very favorite verse of Scripture, but what does it mean?

Rochel Holzkenner, the co-director of Chabad in Las Olas, Florida, teaches on Chabad.org that “Modesty means having healthy boundaries.” She points out that some of these reality shows where we are peering into people’s lives are not modest. It violates those healthy boundaries. She adds that conversely, teens or adults can be misled to think that if they do not expose that which is meant to be sacred and private, they are prudish. Au contraire, they are being modest.

Modesty also means being careful with our speech. To avoid lashon harah, gossip. People who avoid gossip are practicing healthy boundaries. As Rochel points out, “Who gave you permission to analyze another’s life? You shouldn’t be looking in their window. And if you are exposed to a private bit of information about your friend, be sensitive. Gossiping is violating the sacred space of another person.”
This parsha has much to say about speech and its power to hurt or to heal.
Balaam was not modest. He knew he was up for the task of cursing the Israelites and bragged he could. He was humbled by the words that G-d put in his mouth.

One of the things that intrigues me the most about this parsha, is that these words come out of the mouth of a non-Jewish prophet. And these very words, from a non-Jew no less have taken on such prominence in our tradition. Sometimes we tune out the words of the other because they are not Jewish.

Today is the last day of the Community Crisis Center Rummage sale that we are co-sponsoring with Christ the Lord Lutheran. This rummage sale will directly benefit those who do not have a home that is a mikdash me’at. People who are experiencing domestic violence do not have a home filled with modesty or with shalom bayit, peace of the home, two of the values we identified in making a house a good home. People who live in fear of being abused by a partner do not have a mikdash me’at. I believe we have a role as Jews to help ensure that type of violence is eliminated and that we help those who have suffered from domestic abuse. Sometimes people say that there is no abuse in the Jewish community. I can tell you that there is and that there are survivors right here in this congregation. So we have a moral obligation just as the haftarah from today teaches, “To do justly, love mercy and walk modestly with your G-d.”

This event was the vision of Pastor Keith Fry, a Lutheran minister, in order to get our two congregations together to celebrate our two congregations’ landmark years, our 120th, their 50th. To make the world a better place. To do tikkun olam and put the shards back together again. I listened to his ideas, brought it to the board and together we came up with an action plan. As of late yesterday afternoon, he announced on Facebook that In two days we have blown our fundraising record sky-high.” At least some of that will be matched by Thrivant Lutheran.

On the bottom of my emails, I usually type a verse. “Who is wise? One who learns from all people.” We have learned from Balaam the importance of modesty. We have learned from Pastor Keith, the ability to make a mikdash me’at, a small sanctuary, when we combine our efforts.

The midrash for today’s portion teaches something else:
It was not easy for Balaam to get from point a to point b. Balaam complains, “I see it from the summit of the rocks, and from the hills do I view it” (Numbers 23:9).”

Midrash Tanchuma teaches that the rocks are our Patriarchs and the hills are our matriarchs. Rashi adds to our understanding: “I look at their origin and at the beginning of their roots, and I see them entrenched and strong as these rocks and hills, by means of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs.”

We learn something else about tents. Sarah, our matriarch opened her tent on all four sides. This way she could see anyone coming and offer hospitality.

How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places O Israel. May we each create a home that is a mikdash me’at, filled with lovingkindness, peace hospitality and modesty. May we find the time to help create that sense of safety and security for others so that all of us can inexperience the indwelling of the Divine Presence. Ken yehi ratzon.