God spoke to Avraham: “Go you from your land ....” R.
Yitzchak began... This may be compared to one who was
traveling from place to place, and he saw a burning
mansion. He said: Is it possible that this mansion is
without someone responsible? The owner of the mansion
looked out at him and said: I am the master of the
mansion.
So, was our father Avraham saying: Is it possible that the
world is without someone responsible? God looked out at
him and said: I am the master of the world.
(Midrash Genesis Rabba 39,1)
In This World, only intensive labor propels a person from
one level to the next. This is the meaning of what is written
(Bereishit Rabba 39), “burning courtyard (bira doleket)”:
Avraham learned that everything must be in its resting
place and at its root. However, the blessed God replied
that His blessed will is that in This World there will be only
effort and no rest.
Absolutely baffled by its power Worse, my powerlessness
Year after year, month after month Holding out as long as I can
Then the fall. A pattern in time A pattern of the body itself
The mansion has its own rhythm
A cycle of powerlessness.
What is this bira doleket within? This towering inferno of
desire? Overcoming the entire field?
Abraham asks the same question when looking out into
the world And seeing its conflagration Questioning an
intelligent design Until God responds
Ani hu baal habira
“I am the owner of the village” I am the master of this
house! But how does this help the old patriarch’s
theological question Of theodicy? Who could possibly
allow this to go on?
God does not reply with a reason for the inferno Merely
establishing his authorship and ownership
So what is the perennial answer for the fire itself Why the
world continues to rage in flames? Apparently that is left
for us, Abraham’s descendents To dis-cover.
The reason for the fire? You want me to answer? After
such a long exile! And crematoria!
An answer? Are you Crazy! Any answer is an affront to
their memory. Let us rather concentrate on my
inflammation, character defects That way we have a
playing field A field of discourse that is more manageable.
Burning mansions in my body
(Sefat Emet, Lekh Lekha, 634)
Sucking me into the fire Carnage of the soul in the
aftermath The blackened timbered shell Next day In the
cold light of day Where the insanity is made plain for all to
see The wreckage of the rage The splattered fragments of
the self Charred splinters of wood, blackened timber
Strewn across the street Where visual acuity is 20/20 In
contrast to the blindness of the previous night.
Is the meaning of this mansion on fire inside That God is
its master too? Master of His domain That even I
In this lowly state In this body Must surrender even this
The very obsession itself, the insanity, The defects of
character, the lies, deceits and betrayals All of this
baggage to Him! Could it be that buried in this Midrash is
the reflection back onto His watch Of all my life even the
bad?
“Ani hu baal habira”
He exclaims! “I am master of the house, the mansion, the
village, your body-self All of it! The good and the ugly.”
And if the gaze was the trigger The lit match cast
inadvertently into the dry brush The inappropriate stare
The lingering look A spiritual visual dysfunction-mainly
taking place in the darkness; Then maybe the rectification
the fixing and refining of this defect Must also emerge from
the visual, an imaginative restoration. The fixing must take
place in the very images-but within rather out there. What
does She look like? How do I relate to Her? To beauty,
music, passion, to the very flames?
What immortal image did I behold as a fetus? Alongside
my sister. The fateful vision that would transfix my
imagination forever? Who did I recognize as “ze eli” Why
do I continuously search the planet for that image that will
finally give me rest? Peace of mind? That image so etched
in my soul I search for it even in inappropriate places?
I feel the answer to Abraham’s question lies right here In
its midst In the flames In the carnage
An image of Him/Her The master the baal habira.
And the answer lies beyond sacred texts Rather in the
very image of that burning conflagration- But resist the
golden calf that Has emerged until now One generation
after another The false images and temporary relief.
The image behind the texts The Torah behind the Torah
Which can only be accessed by those fallen souls Who
know the other side Who felt the rage and fire within Who
saw the dark side the dark night How else?
It is only by crowing Him master of even the flames of
Auschwitz that we can Access the totality of Him His Unity
And our own.
Only this way can I inhabit this body and own this dark
soul Only by owning His mastery can I own my own
inflammation. You want to quote me philosophy?
Theology? Theodicy? We will leave that for the scholars
and Litvaks.
We who have known inside The nightmares and dead
souls who call in the night The souls wafting above us like
a Chagall painting Europe’s earth screaming from the
blood still dripping within The children’s cries do not
diminish In that furnace He still yells Ani hu baal habirah
And I still need to acknowledge Him there and within.
