A Talking Donkey Walks into a Classroom…

What Balaam's Story Reveals About Learning Styles and Moral Listening

Parashat Balak | A Sermon for Educators and Seekers-Rabbi Adi Romem

What would I recommend to Balaam's teacher?

What would I recommend to Balaam's teacher? Parashat Balak is filled with teachable moments, for all of us who seek to listen, learn, and teach wisely in a noisy world.

Balak, king of Moab, sees the Israelites approaching and panics. He sends messengers to Balaam, a well-known sorcerer, asking him to curse the people. Balaam consults God, who responds clearly: “Do not go with them. Do not curse the people, for they are blessed” (Numbers 22:12). Balaam declines.

But when Balak insists and sends even more impressive messengers, Balaam asks again, despite already knowing the answer. This time, God like a good educator dealing with a persistent student, allows him to go, leaving the decision, and responsibility, in Balaam’s hands.

On the road, God sends an angel to block him. Balaam doesn’t see it. But his donkey does. She stops, turns, and finally lies down to protect them. Frustrated, Balaam beats her, until God opens her mouth and she speaks: “What have I done to you,” she asks, “that you have beaten me these three times?”

Listen with your ears, not just your eyes

Is it not ironic that Balaam, a prophet, a "seer", can't see the angel, but the donkey does? And when all the divine signs fail to work, it's a talking animal that finally breaks through.

Perhaps the Torah is teaching us something about how we learn. Some of us are visual learners: we absorb information through images, texts, and graphs. Others are auditory: we learn by listening, repeating, singing. Balaam seems to fall into the latter group. God's visual cues don’t reach him. But words do.

Educators call this "learning style preference."

It’s echoed in Proverbs 22:6: "Educate a child according to their way, and even when they grow old, they will not depart from it." Good teachers know that not all students thrive with the same methods. Some need quiet. Others need movement. Some need structure. Others flourish in open exploration.

Had Balaam been in our classrooms today, I might have advised his teacher to skip the charts and swords and go straight to storytelling or music. A catchy tune with a clear moral would have landed better than an armed angel.

A Universe That Whispers Before It Shouts

There’s a deeper message here, too. Sometimes the universe sends us messages, quiet ones at first. A shift in energy. A nudge. A hesitation. If we ignore them, they grow louder. A blocked path. A speaking donkey. A disruption we didn’t expect.

The Zohar says, "There is no place void of God." The divine can appear anywhere, even in what we ignore or dismiss. What matters is whether we are paying attention. As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote: "Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement... to be surprised at every tree, every cloud, every moment of awareness."

But how can we cultivate that attention in ourselves and in our students?

In recent years, educational psychology has returned again and again to the idea of "attentional literacy", the skill of noticing. In a distracted world, the ability to listen deeply, to observe patterns, to detect subtle shifts, is an act of spiritual and moral courage. It's also a survival skill.

Balaam failed that test. He followed the motions but ignored the message. And yet, God doesn’t give up on him. Even when he stumbles, even when he doesn't see, Balaam is given another chance to listen, to speak, to bless.

From Cursing to Blessing: The Power of Pivot

One of the most beautiful turns in this story is Balaam's ultimate reversal. When he finally opens his mouth, he cannot curse. Instead, he blesses: "How goodly are your tents, O Jacob; your dwellings, O Israel!" (Numbers 24:5). Words intended for harm become words of beauty.

Sometimes the educator’s job is simply to wait for that pivot. To keep planting seeds. To trust that even stubborn learners have their moment. That a closed heart can open. That a mouth once filled with curses can learn to bless.

So this week, let us remember:

·        Not all signs are seen; some must be heard.

·        Not all learners are alike; and not all teachers need to speak.

·        The sacred can speak through donkeys, discomfort, or detours.

Let us train our eyes and our ears, and our students', to stay open. Let us teach in many languages: visual, verbal, musical, emotional. And let us have the humility to admit when we’ve missed the angel standing in our path.

Because somewhere between the shouting kings and silent prophets, between divine command and human confusion, lies a donkey with something to teach us all.

Shabbat Shalom ✨