Jan 21/06 - Shabbat Shemot 5766

Commentary by Rabbi Larry Pinsker

 For a religion and culture that many people think of as being devoid of iconography, Judaism has originated some of the most powerful and elegant symbols available to both Western and world civilization: just think of the trees of Eden, Noah’s “Ark,” Moses’ staff, the Ark of the Covenant, and the two tablets of instructions from God, to name just a few.

This week’s Torah portion contains the episode of the burning bush, surely one of the most fascinating and compelling images of all. The Jewish Theological Seminary, the central institution of the Conservative movement, adopted this symbol for itself nearly a century ago at the suggestion of its first President, Rabbi Dr. Solomon Schechter, z’l. And the Seminary motto is: “And the bush was not consumed” (Exodus 3:2).

For the past three thousand years, our ancestors have reflected on the meaning of the burning bush. There are hundreds of commentaries on its theological significance. The encounter between God and Moses in Exodus 3—nearly forty verses long—has no peer; no other personal exchange between God and a mortal receives such lengthy treatment. Our good fortune is that these verses convey important details of the nature of revelation, so that we know something about the experience of being in God’s Presence and about how to listen for God’s words, which continue to sound across the universe.

Two of the oldest questions about the burning bush episode are raised in Midrash. If God could have chosen any form or force of nature to communicate, why a thorn bush, of all things? And why was Moses the one God chose to receive the message?

We find the question raised in Midrash:

A pagan once asked Rabbi Joshua ben Karchah: Why did God choose a thorn bush from which to speak to Moses? He replied: Were it a carob tree or a sycamore tree, you would have asked the same question; but to dismiss you without any reply is not right, so I will tell you why. To teach you that no place is devoid of God’s presence, not even a thorn bush. [Midrash Exodus Rabbah 2:5]

In another commentary, the teacher known as Tanchuma says:

It is written, “In all their troubles He is troubled” (Isaiah 63:9). And the Compassionate One proclaims, “I am with him in distress” (Psalm 91:15). The Compassionate One was therefore conveying to Moshe the following message: I am speaking to you from the midst of a bush full of thorns which cause pain, in order to demonstrate that I know their suffering. [Midrash Tanchuma 14]

Instead of choosing to appear before Moses majestically in “a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night,” or with accompaniment by “thunder and lightning upon the mountain,” God selects the path of simplicity and intimacy—a thorn bush that burns with a fire that comforts and warms and yet does not consume its host. It is this extraordinary sight that draws Moses.

Moses, like the later Biblical figure of Jonah, has fled difficult circumstances. He has saved one Hebrew slave from death by killing an Egyptian taskmaster, but the people whom he sought to help have rejected him and even feel threatened by his efforts in their behalf. They cannot help but see him as a part of the Egyptian court, and that spells trouble. So Moses finds refuge serving as a shepherd for a Midianite priest far from the centres of Egyptian power.

Fulfilling his task as shepherd, Moses sees a bush immersed in flame, but not consumed by the fire. So what about Moses suggests that he is fit to receive one of the truly great spiritual messages of all time? One of the most remarkable of all our commentaries answers this question by saying that there were many shepherds tending flocks in that area, and all of them came upon the burning bush. Yet none of them would approach this wonder to try and understand it. Their fear of the unknown overwhelmed them, so they ran from it. By choosing to draw nearer to something so extraordinary and frightening, Moses singles himself out as worthy of a great revelation of the nature of God. In order to stand in the Presence of God, one cannot afford to be driven by terror.

The commentators add another reason for Moses being the chosen one: when God charges Moses with the task of redeeming the Israelites from Egyptian bondage, at first he refuses God’s mandate—not once, but five times, and each time God counters. Rather than distressing God, this behaviour proves to be pleasing. As the 20th century Torah translator and commentator Rabbi Everett Fox says, Moses’ reluctance is itself a major factor in God’s decision to choose him as the redeemer of the Israelites:

With such a response as this, there can be no question of personal ambition or inner lust for power. The prophet does what he does out of compulsion: he is driven by forces that he perceives as external to him.

A true prophet of Israel is not driven by hunger for power, money, or personal gratification. A prophet is driven by devotion to God and the desire to carry forth God’s work in a way that keeps God as the focus of events. When the job with which the prophet has been charged is completed, a true prophet returns to the modest and unassuming life from which he came. In Moses’ case, he will die and be buried in an unmarked grave in an unknown location—the nature of his mission and his modesty attested to by his almost-perfect attention to serving God and not himself. The desire to do God’s work for its own sake—and to not be driven by either fear or ambition—qualifies Moses for the role of one of God’s greatest messengers in transforming the course of human history. And since “Egypt” happens again and again throughout history, and since God is everywhere, we must find the strength within us to follow Moses’ example wherever we may find ourselves.