Reverse Segue: On Burning and Being

So, I jumped from Moses to Hillel without much of s segue (I can't use that word without thinking of Weird Al's White & Nerdy: "They see me roll on my Segway..."), so I suppose I could jump back without one as well. But since I've started, I think I should explicate the connection between BEING (for oneself and/or others) and the burning bush.

It's all part of the story, see... When Moses was out there in exile tending to his herd, he noticed that this bush nearby was on fire. Hmmm... he said to himself (I imagine). That bush over there is on fire.

And what did Moses do when he saw the burning bush? Did he grab a pail of water and extinguish the flames? Did he dial 9-1-1 for help?

Nope.

He gazed.

And how do we know he gazed?

Well, the Torah tells us that Moses gazed. (See Sh'mot/Exodus 3:2) Of equal importance, we are told that in this gazing Moses noted that the bush was not consumed.

This kind of observation requires some attention. How long would you say it takes to observe a piece of wood being consumed? Having sat before more than one campfire, I can tell you, it takes a while for the wood to blacken and give way to the flames. And how difficult is it to discern exactly when the tinder begins to burn? What would it look like if the wood was not consumed, and how and when would you know?

So, sometime after Moses finds the bush ablaze and scrutinizes the nature of the flames, G-d calls out: Moses! Moses! (Why twice? Perhaps Moses was so hypnotized he did not hear the first time?)

And Moses answered: Hinneni—Here I am.

Hinneni, according to the United Synagogue for Conservative Judaism's Etz Hayim (published by JPS), is “the spontaneous, unhesitating response to a divine call.”

HERE I AM.

Eureka! There it is—the link between burning and being. (Or, the first and more obvious link. Further prognostications will follow.) And in that moment of being, Moses did not have questions. He did not experience doubt. He was not concerned with who he was. He just was.

The real lesson here seems to be this: Be present. Be mindful. Pay attention. (Sound familiar? That Hillel really knew what he was talking about.) This is what allows us to experience the presence of G-d. And the meaning is twofold: First, G-d will be revealed to us when we are still, and second, to be still—to be present in the present moment—is to experience G-d. It is often said that G-d is all around us and within us—could it be more plain?

(The lovely image above is by artist Chana Cromer, whose website can be found at http://www.chana-cromer.com/)

Later that same day...

Much later, Hillel answered, in his way:

If I am not for myself who will be for me?
If I am only for myself, what am I?
And if not now, when?

The line that seems to warrant the most attention here is line 2, properly translated not as “who am I” but “what am I.” The implication is that when we serve only ourselves, we are something less than human. It is our connectedness, our service to others, that is the key to our very humanity.

It is important to note, however, that this appears in line 2. Why, if this is the essence of our humanness, is it the second condition we are asked to consider? Hmmm...

One might be tempted to banter about the notion that one cannot love others until one loves oneself, but I think that's a bit trite, and possibly even untrue. Self-love, be it what it may, is not necessarily the same as being for oneself. Being for oneself has a much broader—and more profound—meaning. As if to say: If I do not live my life, then who will live it for me? It is about being present. It is about being genuine. It is about... well... being.

From this interpretation, we can see why this question must be raised first: It is me, myself, who must be this person and perform the acts of my life. The responsibility is mine. I must act.

Because being is not about a state of emotion, it is about a state of action. Sure, you can love yourself. That's wonderful. But if you sit home and love yourself, what good does it do? You may feel marvelous—you may even look marvelous—but what are you? Not much fun at parties, to say the least.

You can even talk about tending to your own needs. It's not just about self-love, it's about self-care: If I don't take care of myself, who will take care of me? Okay, so we've moved from feeling to acting. This is good, for a number of reasons. For one thing, we are back to responsibility. It is MY JOB to do the stuff that needs to be done for me to live. This is all part of being. And it still leads neatly to question number 2: Yep. YOU need to BE for you. But not only for you, eh-eh-ehhh... (Finger-wagging and tongue-clicking ensues.)

The trouble with this thinking is the mistaken notion that we should do for ourselves first. I really doubt Hillel would have wanted us to get that harebrained idea. Which is why he needed to really put the punch in line 2, with the kick-in-the-pants of line 3:

Listen, pal. It's not about you. Do what you need to do to take care of yourself, sure—it's your duty. But you better also be looking after the other guy, and you better be doing it now. Not later. Not after your needs are met. Not when you feel like it.

Actually, there's a little flaw in the logic that we need to meet our own needs if we're all looking after each other. Which is why I like the basic notion of being as an action in and of itself rather than being as a means to an end.

The real point is this: You have to pay attention in this life to be effective. You have to BE for yourself, and you have to be attentive to others. It's very Buddhist, really. (Or is Buddhism Jewish?) Be mindful, be present, be generous. NOW.

You know, the way Moses could only know the presence of G-d because he was willing to gaze? (You don't know? Well, stick around...)

What it is that compels me

Well, it's a mitzvah--tikkun olam, repair of the world. We are partners in G-d's creation. This is our primary task: to better the lives of others and improve the world. As it says in Pirkei Avot, The Ethics of the Fathers, it is not mine to complete the work, but neither am I free to desist from it.

But, as Moses asked, Who am I? I have this stutter and am slow of speech. Surely, I cannot lead.

Of course, G-d knew about the speech thing already, and said as much to Moses-- Geeze, Moses. You're talking to G-d here. I made you. I know you stutter.

Moses remained remarkably unconvinced. Again, he asked: How can I lead? Who am I?

To be continued...

(The image is Marc Chagall, Moses and the Burning Bush. In this format, it looks a bit like Moses has bunny ears, but I'm pretty sure that's not what Chagall was intending.)