Numbers 24

Right now, Walt Disney Animation Studios is on a hot streak. Starting with the 2010 release of Tangled, the studio has lavished upon the world films ranging from very good to excellent: Winnie the Pooh, Wreck-It Ralph, Frozen, Big Hero 6, and Zootopia. This impressive roster calls to mind not only Pixar's string of masterworks from 1995 to 2010 (with the exception of the merely OK Cars), but also the Disney Renaissance of the early 1990s that formed the backbone of my own formative years: The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King.

I hope Disney's current roll continues for a long time, but the '90s successes were brought to a screeching halt with the release of Pocahontas in 1995. While the film boasts stunning visuals (led by art director Michael Giaimo, who subsequently served as art director for Frozen) and a lush score by Alan Menken, the story and characters are surprisingly insipid. Nonetheless, the spine of the story--an invader coming to appreciate and even fight for the people he's supposed to be subjugating--is a popular one, serving as the foundation of other popular films such as Kevin Costner's Dances with Wolves and James Cameron's Avatar.

Balaam seems to have a similar change of heart, if only temporarily; before he speaks his third message, verse 1 states, "Now when Balaam saw that it pleased the LORD to bless Israel, he did not resort to divination as at other times, but turned his face toward the wilderness" (where the Israelites were). So convinced is he of God's power that he voluntarily gives up divination--his specialty. (Unless you're a con artist, you shouldn't need God to give up divination or other psychic practices anyway--all you need is common sense and basic reasoning powers.) He even "falls prostrate" before God in submission. Nowadays, people don't bow in utter submission unless they're in North Korea, but still--to think that this soothsayer, of all people, could be brought to his knees before God. Then again, this is God we're talking about here; we shouldn't be surprised at His ability to effect such change.

Balak is so angry with Balaam blessing the Israelites instead of cursing them that he does what any furious person does--he strikes "his hands together" (verse 10). When your husband leaves his underwear on the floor--strike your hands together. When some low-watt bulb makes an illegal maneuver on the highway forcing you to slam on your brakes--strike your hands together. When your kid systematically rips out every page out of every one of your books because he "likes the sound of ripping"--strike your hands together. Yes, Balak ends up stiffing Balaam, but at least he lets him go; perhaps striking his hands together helped him release his anger in a healthy way. How much better would we be at managing our fury if we just struck our hands together?