Parshas Balak 5782
Bilaam attempts to curse the Jewish People and unwittingly finds himself blessing them instead. Time and again, he issues prophetic words that G-d places in his mouth speaking of the enviable qualities of the nation rather than casting aspersions upon them. In one of the best known instances, Bilaam speaks of the arrangement of the tents in the Jewish camp.
מַה־טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ יַעֲקֹב מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל׃
במדבר כד:ה
עַל שֶׁרָאָה פִתְחֵיהֶם שֶׁאֵינָן מְכֻוָּנִין זֶה מוּל זֶה
רש׳׳י שם
How fair are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwellings, O Israel!
Bamidbar 24:5
This was on account of having seen that the entrances of the Jewish tents did not align with one another.
Rashi, ibid.
Rashi’s explanation of Bilaam’s praise is that the Jewish residences were arranged in such a way so as to ensure that no outsiders could see within. The people are being praised for keeping certain things behind closed doors and out of the public eye.
What are those things?
When we think of being modest, our minds generally go to keeping covered those parts of the body or those activities of a particularly private or intimate nature. But consider that in describing the intentional staggering of the Jewish tents, Rashi notes that what became misaligned were the tent openings. It wasn’t the bedroom windows and it wasn’t the entrances to the mikvaos or the latrines. It was the front doors to their homes. Which means that what was shielded from the public eye was far more than we would expect. It was dinner with the family. It was casual conversations in the living room. It was the goings-on of daily life, well beyond its most intimate dimensions.
The Jewish People were engaging in far more than modesty; they were engaging in privacy. Which has become something of a lost art. Though modesty suffers its own struggles in our generation, privacy far more so. The notion that our bodies must remain covered and that certain behaviors are not appropriate for public consumption is axiomatic, at least for most. Yet many have completely lost the sense that other, more humdrum experiences should likewise not always be shared. That there is merit in refraining from clicking “post” or “send” for its own sake.
Why is this? What exactly is the advantage of privacy? Why is Bilaam moved by the fact that the Jewish People did not permit onlookers into their kitchens and dens without careful prior consideration?
The answer is that privacy makes for more genuine experiences. When we become accustomed to sharing every plate of pasta or walk on the beach on instagram, we erode the amount of personal engagement we have in any given experience and replace it with an interest in pleasing the masses.
Was the bit of advice I just gave my daughter really for her? Or was it just part of manufacturing a good facebook post? Was the family vacation really about strengthening relationships? Or was I trying to generate social media fodder? It is so much more difficult to consider the people actually in the room when we’re concerned with how it will be perceived on the screens of thousands of others. When we leave the door open we dilute and distort the experience for those actually living it, ourselves included.
Closing the physical door is a relatively easy operation. But being selective about when we leave the door open or closed to the full gamut of our personal experiences is increasingly challenging. Technology affords us the ability to leave that door wide open. We enjoy the likes and the flattering emojis, we get a brief high when what we’ve done impresses, shocks, or otherwise engages others. But in doing so too often, we pay a hefty price in privacy. Which is to say, we pay a hefty price in how authentic we are. It can become more about those outside the door than those inside of it.
The answer is not a wholesale abandonment of social media. Sharing experiences can create a valuable sense of connectedness with friends and family members we may not get to see often enough in person. But the risks are nevertheless real. Consider, perhaps, the following challenge. When is it that you tend to post, tweet, and share an otherwise personal or private experience? Dinner out with your spouse? Day trip with the kids? Encountering some beautiful scenery? Tell yourself that the next time it happens, it’s just for you. No posting, no tweeting, no sharing. Let the moment be personally meaningful, for you and others there in person. Lean in to the experience and tell yourself you’ll value it on its own merits, without needing the likes, emojis, and accolades of others. Train yourself to build a beautiful tent. The first step is to know you can close the door from time to time.