Everyone knows that when Hashem first revealed Himself to Moshe, he "appeared" through the vision of the burning bush. From the midst of those mysterious flames, which burned but did not consume, Hashem called out "Moshe, Moshe…" But G-d only called out to Moshe when he saw "ki sar li'rot," (he turned aside to look) - when, instead of carrying on his usual way, he caught himself and turned his awareness to gaze at this mystery, the flame and the bush. So, the Torah is reminding us of the need to wake up from habits and being swept along by our own inertia. How many burning bushes have I rushed past in my life? Yet of all the visions which G-d could have chosen, what is the significance of a burning bush? What did Moshe turn aside to see, that others walk past?
The Midrash brings down two perspectives, whose relationship I want to explore. The first is that the flame represents G-d's presence - that light and fire which is G-d's, and which gives life to all of creation. As the Midrash says, "From the burning bush we learn that no place, even a bush, is empty of the Divine Presence." This is the mystic vision of the life-giving flame of G-d's Presence which dwells in all things. Moshe turned to gaze upon this quiet, yet infinitely powerful Presence. The great wonder is that this inner flame, though burning with tremendous intensity, does not consume the world. In spirituality, this itself is an important teaching, that even as we may strive for, and be blessed with, experiences of that awesome inner flame, we should not fall into the trap of our spiritual fire consuming the world. For when one has tasted, even a little bit, that awesome and beautiful flame, it becomes very understandable that such people often tend to devalue the world in its more external aspects, even longing for death when the "soul can return to G-d." Yet G-d's flame does not consume creation, in fact is gives it life…
Yet the Midrash also brings a very different way of looking at Hashem's call to Moshe. Commenting on the verse that when G-d saw that Moshe turned to see, He spoke to him, the Midrash says "Hashem saw that Moshe turned to gaze upon the suffering of his brothers in Mitzrayim." It was not Moshe's looking at the Divine flame which gives life, but rather his turning to look upon the flames of suffering which filled the hearts and souls of the Jewish people in Mitzrayim. The bush itself represents the Jewish people, a small group, and the flames of Jewish history which burn (and cause great suffering) yet do not consume us entirely. Yet Moshe gazed in wonder, how could this great flame not destroy the people of Israel?
Amazingly, we find in the Midrash that Avraham's first encounter with G-d was also brought on by a vision of flame. A famous Midrash teaches that Avraham saw the world as a "birah doleket," a house in flames. He said "Can it be that this house has no owner? Who is the master of this house?" Hashem appeared to him, saying "I am the Master of the House." Here the Midrash ends. I had always understood the Midrash to mean that Avraham was very sensitive to the great pain and suffering of the world, and searching for the One whose responsibility it was, after all, to take care of His world, to put out the flames. This is how everyone I had ever discussed this teaching with understood it, more or less - until I met Rabbi Menachem Froman with a group of students from Bat Ayin a few years ago. Somehow, this Midrash was mentioned, and someone commented on the pathos of the ending of the Midrash. Hashem appears and says "Here I am!" But that wasn't really Avraham's question, he didn't merely want to know who the owner was, he wanted the owner to come put out the flames! Instead the Midrash ends with an image of G-d, as it were, waving through the flames, "I'm the Master of the House…" (Of course, the Midrash can hardly say that G-d came and poured water on the house and ended all the suffering of the world, since nothing of the kind happened. Still, we mentioned the abruptness of the ending of the Midrash which leaves the real question - not "Who is the owner," but "Why isn't he doing something about all this?!" hanging…)
Rabbi Froman responded as if in wonder "I've never understood such a question, really," he said softly, "I always understood that he saw the world as a birah doleket, a house that shone and sparkled with light, as with jewels. The inner light of the world, in all its beauty, shone for Avraham. Yet he said, 'there must be One who is the source of all this light.' And once Hashem revealed Himself to him, there was no problem to solved at all…" I was amazed at such a reading of the Midrash, and Rav Natan Greenberg commented after we left that it was clear to him that only someone who saw the world in that way would read the Midrash in that manner.
So how do we turn towards G-d, and come to hear His voice speaking to us personally? I find it astonishing that both for Moshe Rabbeinu and Avraham, the beginning of G-d's addressing them can be seen as the result of two very different kind of "turning to see." On the one hand, both Moshe and Avraham turned to see the great light and inner beauty that hides within all things in the world. Yet the Midrash also shows that it was only due to their turning their gaze, in compassion, to the great suffering of the world, that G-d chose to speak to them. Both of these visions are so needed, and in fact they need one another. In a world like ours, we have little need for those who gaze only upon the mystic beauty which shines through all things, and are unable to see and feel the pain of another human being, whose hearts are not vulnerable and alive to the suffering which fills the world. Yet many who set out to help and heal the world, motivated by compassion, keenly aware of others' pain, are unable to heal without access to that light of the One who can bring comfort. Besides, we can quickly "burn out" and be consumed, if we are not connected to the inner flame which gives life as well. May Hashem bless us to be able to see both of these flames, and through that find (and make) a better life for ourselves and the whole world, Amen. Good Shabbos, Good Tu B'Shvat!