Los Angeles and the surrounding area have been going through a very difficult time this past week and the week before, with fires raging everywhere. Somebody came to me and said, “Why is this happening? What does God want to send us as a message from there?” I stopped the person. I said, “Look, I don’t know why things happen. Nobody knows why things happen. Maybe it was a criminal doing it; maybe it was something else. I don’t know.” But the Rambam says that whenever something is happening around you, you have to try to learn something. Ironically, the source for this—or possibly one of the sources—is in this week’s Parashat, Parashat Shemot, where, through fire on a bush, HaKadosh Baruch Hu (The Holy One, blessed be He) presents himself to Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses our teacher). I don’t know the irony of the connection between the fire and the wood and what’s happening. That’s not my point at all, but my point is actually something else, and it’s very interesting. The point is the following.
Did anyone watch those fires and pay attention? Is there a tree that is on fire and does not burn? Moshe Rabbeinu went there and saw a tree that doesn’t burn. We all know the story, but I started thinking about the practicality of the description of the Torah. How long would it take for a person to realize that a tree is not burning? If you see a fire on a tree—or, quite frankly, on anything—you usually turn around and leave, and it would probably take hours and possibly days. I think the Midrash (rabbinic teaching) says it took seven days—not to realize that it was not burning, but to realize that it was not burning and to get into the conversation with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Seven days. How long would you watch the tree and ask yourself, “Is this tree really burning or not?” It would probably take several days to realize and say, “There’s a problem. This tree has been burning for too long.” If it had been a regular tree, it would have burned already, because fire stays on the tree for quite a while to consume it, whichever size it is. Of course, if it’s bigger, it takes longer; if it’s smaller, it takes less time. But...
If you realize that the fire is not consuming the tree, you need to pause, then look for a long time, and then say, “Oh my God, how long is this tree going to burn?” It would take several hours, if not several days. So the question is: How did Moshe realize, even as a remote possibility, that it was not burning? Why did Moshe invest so much time trying to see whether the fire was going to burn this tree or not? I don’t have the answer to all the details, but what’s fascinating is that he realized it was not getting burnt, and it would take a very, very long time for that. What does that teach us? This teaches us that whenever you talk about Moshe Rabbeinu talking to God, you ask: How did it begin? What was the moment that ignited that connection? This is the moment that ignited that connection. It’s the first time HaKadosh Baruch Hu and Moshe Rabbeinu talk, and after that, they will talk forever. Until the end. Until the end. Panim el panim adaber bo (Face to face I speak with him). HaKadosh Baruch Hu is very comfortable talking to Moshe Rabbeinu face-to-face, the only one who did that.
It all started because of a curiosity. Because Moshe Rabbeinu was looking for something. Because Moshe Rabbeinu was trying to find God in the most unexpected places. Because he was looking for things that are unusual. Maybe this is where you’re going to find God. Being something as mundane as a burning tree. But he looked for it. He believed it could happen, and he was seeking something. Once you open the door a little bit and say, “God, I’m looking for something special, a special relationship with you,” then HaKadosh Baruch Hu says, “Okay, now we could talk.” Why doesn’t God talk to us? Well, maybe we should look for him in those mundane places. I believe it was the Kotzker Rebbe and many other Chachamim (sages) who said that God is wherever you make him space to be. That means that God is everywhere, of course, but you have to look for God. You have to be curious and try to find God in an unexpected place.
We would pass by a tree that is burning and just continue on our way, actually going as far as possible to not get hurt. And even if you stayed and saw something a little bit unusual, what do we do? “Okay, whatever.” Doesn’t it ever happen that sometimes you hear a noise in the house and you don’t know what it was? You start to think, “Okay, I don’t know what it was.” That’s it. That’s the end of the story. You go back to sleep. And Moshe didn’t do that. Moshe looked everywhere. How is it possible to connect with the divine? When HaShem saw that, He said, “That’s my guy. That’s my man. We’re going to do this with him.” It all started with, “Can I find HaShem somewhere? Can I find HaShem in everything?” And when you have that curiosity, when you try to find that connection, HaShem says, “That’s my man.”
So we learned something very strong here. I don’t know what’s going on in LA. I don’t know. But all I want to do is ignite that curiosity. We should always be curious, trying to find HaShem in every place, in every path, in everything you could find Him in. You look for that unusual thing, or even some usual things you could connect with, but you look for that thing. You’re on the lookout. You’re trying to find God. If you’re there, well, then that’s how you build the Moshe Rabbeinu. It starts with that. We have to start with that. When unusual things are happening, we have to think, not “Why did God do it?” but “What can I learn? What can I do to help or to change myself or something?” And that’s what the Rambam says. Things that happen—they’re meant for a purpose. I don’t know why. But they’re meant for us to ask ourselves the questions and to find that curiosity in us. What does God want? Can I find something that will change me, that will connect me? That’s how we have to do it. It’s not limited to the fires in Los Angeles. This is for everything in life. Moshe did it. We must do it.