Chassidus Shiurim – Rabbi Doron · Lesson 12 · 51:51
Likkutei Amarim Chapter 10 · 5781
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 Speaker 1 Okay, if I’m not mistaken, we’re up to chapter 10.
00:11 Speaker 2 Sorry, that’s...
00:17 Speaker 1 We said that the second group of chapters is chapters 9 through 12. At the beginning, in the first eight chapters, the Alter Rebbe explained the souls—the G-dly soul and the animal soul—their faculties, their garments, and what they want. Then, starting in chapter 9, he began describing the battle between them. Even though the G-dly soul is in the mind and the animal soul is in the heart, and the mind and heart are entirely different—the mind is cool and detached, concerned with its own domain. It has no business with the heart. It is neither for the heart nor against it. The mind is something altogether different. And the heart, for its part—the emotions—what does it care what the intellect thinks? The heart is warm, stirred up, excited, moving outward toward someone else. Intellect and emotion are two different worlds. So, seemingly, if the G-dly soul is in the mind and the animal soul is in the heart, they should be able to live peacefully side by side. Each has its own stronghold, its own place, and they ought to get along. But that isn’t how it works. Starting in chapter 9, the Alter Rebbe explained that although the G-dly and animal souls are so different in character—truly opposites—each one wants to conquer the other’s stronghold too. In other words, the G-dly soul wants to descend into the heart and take control of it, so that not only the intellect will be G-dly, but our emotions too will be emotions of love of Hashem, awe of Hashem, and love for another person; so that we will do kindness for a friend, think thoughts of Torah, speak words of Torah, and fulfill mitzvos. The G-dly soul isn’t content to remain in its place in the mind. It wants to spread throughout the entire body—in our emotions and in thought,
02:35 Speaker 1 speech, and action. And exactly the same is true of the animal soul. It isn’t content with its place in the heart, in the emotions, desiring the pleasures of this world. It wants the intellect to serve it. It wants the intellect to help it obtain what it desires. And it isn’t content with taking control only of a person’s intellect. It wants all of a person’s faculties too: that he should think about worldly things, feel worldly things, act and speak accordingly. The animal soul wants the whole person, all of him, with not a single corner devoted to G-dliness. It wants a body, it wants life, it wants to enjoy the world—you only live once. So because the G-dly soul and the animal soul both want essentially the same thing—to take control of the whole body, every thought, every emotion, and every action—they cannot live in peace. It doesn’t work that way. They fight constantly. And in chapter 9, he explained the battle between them: what the G-dly soul wants, what the animal soul wants, and how they fight.
03:47 Speaker 2 Last time was chapter 9.
03:54 Speaker 1 So that was the battle in general, in chapter 9. Chapter 10 is what we’re going to study today. Here the Alter Rebbe describes the first outcome: the G-dly soul wins. Later, in chapters 11, 12, and 13, we’ll see what happens next. But what happens here? What is this state? What is the reality? What does a person who has won the battle look like? The G-dly soul has won, and he has become a tzaddik. So right at the beginning of chapter 10, the Alter Rebbe defines it: “When a person strengthens his G-dly soul and wages such a battle against the animal soul that he drives out and eradicates the evil within it from the left chamber of the heart.” He won the battle. He worked hard; he fought. It doesn’t say here how—that is written later, elsewhere—but in practice he fought the battle required of him and drove the evil out of the left chamber of the heart, as it is written, as Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded us: “You shall eradicate the evil from your midst.” Yes, “You shall eradicate the evil from your midst.” In the plain meaning of the verse, it means that one must not let the wicked go unpunished. If a person knows or sees that someone wicked is committing transgressions, he cannot look the other way. He must bring him before judges to be judged, and “you shall eradicate the evil from your midst.” But in the inner dimension of Torah, “you shall eradicate the evil from your midst” means from within yourself. It is a mitzvah to eradicate the evil. And if he has driven out and eradicated the evil in the left chamber, as it is written, “You shall eradicate the evil from your midst,” “but the evil has not actually been transformed into good,” then he is called an incomplete tzaddik, or a tzaddik who has some evil. If you remember, in chapter 1 we came to the conclusion that there are five levels of people: a rasha who has some good, a rasha who has evil, a tzaddik who has good, a tzaddik who has some evil, and a beinoni. But there he cited the Gemara, where Rabbah said: “A tzaddik who has some evil is an incomplete tzaddik, and a tzaddik
06:27 Speaker 1 who has good is a complete tzaddik.” So which is it—what do we call him, a complete tzaddik or a tzaddik who has good? And what do we call the other one, an incomplete tzaddik? Why do we need two names? What is the difference between them? So he explains here that it depends on what we’re talking about. A complete tzaddik and a tzaddik who has good are the same person. They aren’t two different people. What’s the difference? It depends on what we’re talking about. The reality of a tzaddik is, as we said here, a Jew who has overcome the evil. He has no more evil, no yetzer hara. It’s gone. He has killed the yetzer hara.
07:08 Speaker 3 King David.
07:09 Speaker 1 Like King David, peace be upon him—that is called a tzaddik. But there are two ways to look at it. When we see someone like that, who has killed the evil—here before us is a tzaddik—there are two ways to look at what makes him a tzaddik. Why is he called a tzaddik? If we say it’s because he has such love of Hashem that he no longer has any evil, then we’re talking about his righteousness. By the way, just as an aside, maybe this will make it a little clearer: often, when we hear people talking among themselves, they say, “Wow, what a tzaddik! Wow, he knows the whole Gemara by heart. What a tzaddik...”
08:01 Speaker 3 The expression “tzaddik” today is like, “Brother, you’re a tzaddik.” What does it mean on the street? People say “tzaddik” all the time—what?
08:08 Speaker 1 Today it’s almost no longer a figurative term; it’s a term that has moved away from its figurative meaning. People get confused today; they very often confuse a scholar with a tzaddik. They confuse someone with a good memory and a good mind with a tzaddik. A tzaddik doesn’t need to have any special intellect. He doesn’t need to know the Torah forward and backward and by heart. That isn’t what makes someone a tzaddik. Even a computer, which isn’t a human being at all, can know the Torah forward and backward and by heart better than a person can. Being a tzaddik isn’t an intellectual quality. It’s a quality of emotion. “Tzaddik” is a description of how deeply he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu. If he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu with absolute perfection, he is called a tzaddik. If his love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu is not absolutely perfect, then he isn’t a tzaddik. Then there are other categories. We’ll see later when he is a beinoni, and when he is a rasha who has some good or a rasha who has evil, and so on. But what does the word “tzaddik” mean? It refers to the emotions of the heart. Why is this person a tzaddik? Because he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu with absolute perfection. That is one way to look at it. The second way is: Why is he a tzaddik? He has no evil; he has killed the evil and completely nullified his evil. Here we’re no longer talking about his love. We’re talking about how completely he has nullified the negative side. We’re speaking about the other side of the tzaddik: how fully he has managed to eradicate the evil within himself. So here we’re no longer talking about his righteousness, but about the evil within him—how far he has succeeded in killing his evil. So here
09:57 Speaker 1 We’ve already used the terms “a complete tzaddik” and “an incomplete tzaddik”: someone who has completely finished with the evil within him, or someone who has not yet managed to finish with it completely. A complete tzaddik has finished with his evil completely, and that is why he is called a tzaddik who has good. He has only good, and... An incomplete tzaddik has not completely finished with the evil within him, so his love of Hashem is not complete either. All right, that was a digression. Let’s go back to the text. The Alter Rebbe begins to explain. He started by explaining that a tzaddik is someone who has eradicated evil entirely, and now, to understand what a tzaddik who has good is, we first explain what a tzaddik who still has evil is. That is, a tzaddik who still has evil still has a tiny trace of evil in the left chamber of his heart, but it is subdued and nullified to the good because there is so little of it. Therefore, it seems to him that it has been driven out and has gone away completely. All right, to bring those who have newly joined us up to speed, let’s say a few words about this. It will also help me organize my thoughts a little. We said that in the previous chapter, chapter 9, after first explaining the nature of the two souls, the Alter Rebbe explained the battle between them. In our chapter, chapter 10, he begins to explain what happens when the G-dly soul wins. He said that when the G-dly soul wins, the person is called a tzaddik. A tzaddik is someone whose G-dly soul has succeeded: he has done the work and overcome the evil inclination. He no longer has an evil inclination. But there are two levels within this, and each level has two names. The higher level among tzaddikim is called either a tzaddik who has good, because his love of Hashem—his good—is complete, or he is called
12:05 Speaker 1 a complete tzaddik, because he has completed his work with the evil inclination. He no longer has an evil inclination. The lower level among tzaddikim is called either an incomplete tzaddik, because his righteousness, his good, his love of Hashem, is not yet complete, or a tzaddik who still has evil, because he has not yet finished eradicating evil entirely. So to understand the difference between them, the Alter Rebbe began with the incomplete tzaddik. What is an incomplete tzaddik? Well, first we have to... In other words, an incomplete tzaddik is a tzaddik who still has some evil. What does it mean that he has evil? He’s a tzaddik! If he has evil, why do you call him a tzaddik? His evil is dead. Or—I don’t know if it’s dead—it's asleep; it doesn’t speak. He has no cravings. At the first level of being a tzaddik, he has no cravings. Later we’ll see exactly how the difference between a tzaddik who has good and one who still has evil expresses itself, but even a tzaddik who still has evil has no active evil inclination. His evil doesn’t speak. And because his evil doesn’t speak inside him, all he has is love of Hashem—great love, a love of delight. That is what he lives with. So look at line seven there, the line beginning “because there is so little of it.” Therefore, it seems to him, to the tzaddik who still has evil, that the evil has been driven out and has gone away completely. When a person sees that all the desires of this world no longer interest him, that they don’t attract him—not only do they not attract him, they disgust him. He sees the pleasures of this world and feels sickened; they make him nauseous. He knows he is a tzaddik. Such a person knows he has risen to the level of
14:22 Speaker 1 a tzaddik. Why? Because he despises everything to do with this world. He feels that he despises it. So why would he think he isn’t a complete tzaddik? Right? Seemingly, if he feels that he truly despises every worldly desire without exception, he should think he’s a complete tzaddik, right? Seemingly. The Alter Rebbe says: No. Why? Because it’s possible for a person to be a tzaddik and genuinely despise evil—it isn’t his imagination—and still not be a complete tzaddik. How so? “But in truth, if all the evil within him had departed and gone away completely, it would have been transformed into actual good.” Good and evil are opposites. If there were no evil at all, the good would be complete. If his love of Hashem is not complete, that means that somewhere, very, very deep down, some evil is still hiding. It isn’t evil that ever finds expression—certainly not in thought, speech, or action; we aren’t talking about that. It isn’t even evil that comes up as a feeling or as a passing thought. But somewhere deep down, something remains. Later on we’ll see what that remaining something is. Because if it had been transformed into good, his love of Hashem would be complete. “The explanation of the matter”: How can this be? What is the difference between complete love of Hashem and love of Hashem that is not complete, when the person is still a tzaddik? “For a complete tzaddik, whose evil has been transformed into good, is therefore called a tzaddik who has good”—because, as we said, “tzaddik” refers to his love, his love of Hashem.
16:33 Speaker 4 Does that mean something for you, or not? Someone small.
16:41 Speaker 1 I think it isn’t the same for everyone. Everyone certainly has free choice, but it says of Moshe Rabbeinu that when he was born, the entire house filled with light. That doesn’t happen with everyone. And there certainly are souls of tzaddikim. In other words, a Jew who merits the soul of a tzaddik has, by virtue of his soul, the ability—even if he has an evil inclination—to transform evil into good. And there are people who do not have that ability. I don’t know whether there are tzaddikim who are born tzaddikim from the outset, but certainly not everyone can become a tzaddik. Only someone with that kind of soul can. On the other hand, the Alter Rebbe writes later in this chapter, and in several places in Tanya, that even someone who was not born a tzaddik, if he gives himself over completely, may merit to have a spirit from the soul of a genuine tzaddik enter him, and he will become a tzaddik even though that was not his original makeup. In other words, a person’s power of choice can even change his very nature into that of a true tzaddik. But that is generally not everyone’s task. Generally, a tzaddik is someone who has the capacity for it. Here, though, we aren’t yet discussing how one becomes a tzaddik. We’re discussing the level of a tzaddik, the essential nature of a tzaddik. Later we’ll see what is expected of us and what isn’t. There are instances where even a beinoni is asked to do the work of a tzaddik, though we know he isn’t a tzaddik. We’ll see all those details later. Right now, we’re only discussing this first stage so we can understand what it is. So, “the explanation of the matter: For a complete tzaddik, whose evil has been transformed into good, is therefore called a tzaddik who has good, through completely removing the filthy garments
18:40 Speaker 1 from the evil—that is, by utterly despising the pleasures of this world, taking delight in them as people do, merely to satisfy the body’s desires and not for the service of Hashem.” Well, I imagine no one remembers this—we learned it in chapter 6, which was a terribly long time ago. At the beginning of chapter 6, or halfway through it, Tanya spoke at great length about what kelipah and sitra achra are. Remember when we discussed that? He said there that kelipah and sitra achra are the side that is not holiness. What is the side of holiness? Torah and mitzvos, prayer, tzedakah, studying Torah—that is the side of holiness. What is not the side of holiness? Everything else. Anything that isn’t Torah is sitra achra. So we discussed at length that even if something has Rabbi Landau’s kosher certification, it is still sitra achra. No matter how pure, permissible, and kosher it is, if it belongs to this world, if it isn’t Torah and mitzvos, it is sitra achra; it is kelipah. He discussed that at length there in chapter 6. So when he says here that the complete tzaddik—what is the essential nature of a complete tzaddik? He hates everything that comes from sitra achra. That means he hates everything connected to this world. Sitra achra means anything that isn’t Torah itself—pure Torah, unadulterated Torah—which is holiness. Anything that is not holy Torah, unadulterated Torah, Torah openly revealed, is sitra achra. That includes a house, a car, conversations, thoughts, actions, feelings—our whole lives from beginning to end. Apart from those moments when we pray or study or perform a mitzvah, it is sitra achra. That is what the tzaddik hates. He hates everything connected to—anything with even a trace of this world, he hates.
21:01 Speaker 1 This is something that’s hard for us to understand—that such a thing could be possible—but that’s the reality of a tzaddik. Unless, of course, it’s for the service of Hashem. In other words, if he wants something now—I'll tell the whole—no, I won’t tell the whole story now, because it’s a long story; it takes half an hour to tell. But the point of the story is that Reb Pinchas—Pinchas Reizes—became wealthy through a blessing from the Alter Rebbe, and so on. So when the Alter Rebbe asked him, “What do you need a house made of stone for? A chossid needs to immerse himself in serving Hashem through prayer. Why have you built this stone house, this house of blocks? Isn’t a wooden hut good enough for you? Can’t you serve Hashem in a hut? Why do you need a palace to live in?” Pinchas said, “I didn’t build the house for myself. I built it so people would know I have money, and then they would accept me onto the town council.” You can imagine what kind of town it was, right? “Then I’ll have a say, I’ll have a voice, and I’ll be able to act for the benefit of the chassidim and to advance Chassidus. That’s why I need the house; it isn’t for myself.” So the Alter Rebbe let it be, smiled, and blessed him. If a person wants worldly things in order to use them for holiness, then by all means. That’s the side of holiness. But if he wants worldly things for their own sake, for the pleasure in them, that’s the sitra achra, that’s kelipah. A complete tzaddik hates that with an absolute hatred—anything connected with the world—“and not for the service of Hashem, because they are drawn from and receive their vitality from kelipah and the sitra achra.” He knows that worldly things come from kelipah and the sitra achra, and the complete tzaddik hates anything that comes from the sitra achra with an absolute hatred. And why does he hate all worldly things with such an absolute
23:04 Speaker 1 hatred? Because of the greatness of his love for Hashem and His holiness, with an abundant love of delight. A tzaddik has a soul... There are several ways to understand this properly; we won’t go into them now. A tzaddik has a soul—everyone has a G-dly soul, but in a tzaddik, his G-dly soul is revealed. What does “revealed” mean? It’s the one that controls the body. So the holy G-dly soul within him loves Hashem. The G-dly soul’s love for Hashem burns openly within him. That’s what he feels all the time. All he feels is a desire to connect and cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That’s what moves him, what occupies his thoughts and his heart. His entire being is his G-dly soul, his love for Hashem, “with an abundant love of delight and the extraordinary affection mentioned above.” Since his love for Hashem is absolute, his hatred of this world is also absolute. Because they are opposites. With the pleasures of this world, it’s not like that; they aren’t opposites. You can enjoy food and enjoy a drink and enjoy music and whatever else. There’s nothing stopping a person from sitting there with his legs crossed. It’s a cold day, right? He wants to enjoy himself. So he’ll turn on a heater to make himself comfortable, and at the same time he’ll listen to music he likes and eat something tasty. No problem. He enjoys the warmth of the heater, the softness of the chair, the tasty food, and the music—a taste of the World to Come. He’s enjoying several things at once. No problem. But you can’t enjoy this world and G-dliness at the same time. Why? Because they’re opposites. If this is what he enjoys, if this is what gives him
25:17 Speaker 1 pleasure, then that will cause him pain. We see it in practice. Take a person on the street: Moshiach—Moshiach is all very well to dance about. But what about—well, what happens when Moshiach comes? Everyone will sit and study Torah all day. Forget it. Does that suit me now? I don’t want it. If he doesn’t say it, that’s how he feels. What, keep Shabbos? Spend all of Friday and Shabbos going to shul? [unclear], I don’t know. A person immersed in the desires of this world hates G-dliness. He can’t love it. He loves one or the other; they’re opposites. And it works exactly the same way in the other direction. A person who loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu feels pleasure and enjoyment. He studies Torah; he has brought himself to a point where he enjoys studying, enjoys davening, feels the sweetness of davening. He loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu—he loves Him, and so he hates the world. They don’t go together, because they’re opposites. They stand in opposition to one another. So a complete tzaddik is someone who loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu absolutely. Why? His G-dly soul has prevailed and driven out the animal soul. There’s no trace of the animal soul in him, and he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu with an absolute love—an abundant love, a love of delight, whatever you call it, all those wonderful levels. So he hates this world. Anything connected with this world, big or small, is tied to desires, tied to physicality. He can’t even look in that direction. The moment he does, it disgusts him. Because revulsion is the very opposite of love, just like hatred. So that’s a complete tzaddik. Fine, okay, we understand. It makes sense, right? Not
27:20 Speaker 1 that we’re capable of reaching that point, but we understand what we’re talking about. Now comes something even harder. If the meaning of “tzaddik” is that he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu absolutely and therefore hates evil absolutely, then what is an incomplete tzaddik? He doesn’t hate evil absolutely—so why call him a tzaddik at all? That’s what he goes on to address here, after the period: “And an incomplete tzaddik is one who does not hate the sitra achra with an absolute hatred.” He is a tzaddik. He hates the sitra achra. He hates this whole world, but not with an absolute hatred. There’s an analogy for this. What’s the difference between hating something absolutely and hating it, but not absolutely? I think I gave this analogy last time. It’s a familiar analogy in Chassidus, from physical life. If you give someone moldy bread to eat, he won’t eat it. He hates it, right? He’s repulsed by it. It’s mold. How can you eat such a thing? But if he’s starving, he’ll eat it. By contrast, if you give him something to eat that’s—I don’t know—“all the tables are filled with vomit and filth,” he won’t eat it. Even if he’s starving, he won’t eat it. He can’t; he’s a human being. Things like that are... yes. So the revulsion a person feels toward moldy bread is real revulsion. He really is repulsed by it. He really hates it, but it’s not absolute hatred. If he has no choice, he can still conceive of eating it. But the revulsion a person feels toward that other thing is absolute revulsion. That’s the difference between a complete tzaddik and an incomplete tzaddik. An incomplete tzaddik is repulsed by the world; the world
29:14 Speaker 1 disgusts him, but not absolutely. Absolute revulsion is what a complete tzaddik has. “And therefore he also does not find evil absolutely repulsive. And whenever hatred and revulsion are not absolute, some trace of love and pleasure must remain there, and the soiled garments have not been entirely removed.” So again, the “soiled garments” here are not the garments we discussed back in chapter 4—thought, speech, and action. We’re talking about garments of the soul itself, meaning the capacity for desire. As long as there’s any desire for this world, he isn’t a complete tzaddik, “and therefore it has not been truly transformed into good, since he still has some attachment to the soiled garments; rather, it is nullified by its smallness and considered insignificant.” That’s why he’s called a tzaddik, but he’s called a tzaddik who has evil within him. The evil is subdued and nullified. “And therefore his love for Hashem is also not absolute, and so he is called an incomplete tzaddik.” So up to here we’ve explained the difference between a complete tzaddik and an incomplete tzaddik. Right? A tzaddik is someone who hates evil absolutely. Why? Because he loves Hashem absolutely. And broadly speaking, there are two levels here. One is someone who not only finds evil repulsive, but for whom evil—the world—is completely unthinkable. The other finds it repulsive, but not... If he has no choice, he’s prepared to use it. “Now this level,” the second level, that of an incomplete tzaddik, “is divided into myriads of levels, depending on how small an amount of evil remains in him from one of the four evil elements.” What exactly about the world is not unthinkable to him? Are desires for pleasure not unthinkable to him? Are frivolity and mockery not unthinkable to him? What is it? “And according to the degree to which it is nullified by its smallness—one part in sixty, for example, or one in a thousand or ten thousand.” To what extent is it not unthinkable, right? What is not unthinkable to him, and to what extent is it not unthinkable,
31:23 Speaker 1 Right? Take two people with stale bread, right? One of them won’t eat it unless he is literally starving to death, while the other, if there’s nothing else, will eat it. Right? For both of them it’s out of the question, but to what extent? And the same applies to the evil being nullified in the good—one part in sixty, for example, or in a thousand or ten thousand, and so on. These are the many levels of tzaddikim throughout the generations, as the Gemara says, “Eighteen thousand tzaddikim stand before Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” Hashem has—Hashem formed, created, I don’t know how to put it—eighteen thousand tzaddikim and spread them across all the generations. Eighteen thousand isn’t millions of Jews, but it’s enough for there to be thirty-six and more in every generation. There are many. But as for the level of a complete tzaddik, there are no gradations here. All the discussion of levels among tzaddikim concerns those tzaddikim for whom it’s relevant to say that one has more evil, another has less, one has this kind and another that kind. The level of a complete tzaddik is what Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai meant when he said, “I have seen people of ascent, and they are few.” Are you familiar with that passage of the Zohar? Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai begins there—Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and... they want to save the world. So his son—uh, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says that if there are only a hundred tzaddikim in the whole world, he and his son are among them; and if there are only ten, he and his son are among them; and if there are only two, they are he and his son; and if there is only one, he is that one. “People of ascent” are tzaddikim who hate evil completely. There really are very few like that. That’s what he said—we learned in chapter 2, “A tzaddik is the foundation of the world.” A tzaddik, in the words of our Sages: “There is one pillar on which the entire world stands, and its name is tzaddik.” So—
33:37 Speaker 5 There’s one complete tzaddik?
33:39 Speaker 1 Yes.
33:39 Speaker 5 Okay.
33:41 Speaker 1 In every generation. There’s a story about this—a well-known story about the holy Baal Shem Tov that, apparently, relates to this. It’s told that once, on Shabbos or before Shabbos, the holy Baal Shem Tov was washing his hands for the meal. While he was holding the washing cup, or however exactly it happened, he suddenly froze in place. Then he said, “The western lamp has gone out,” and finished washing his hands. Do you know the story?
34:16 Speaker 5 No.
34:16 Speaker 1 Hm? He finished washing his hands. Then, a few days later, it became known that Rabbi Chaim ben Attar had passed away. The Baal Shem Tov explained that there is one kavanah in washing hands that is revealed to only one tzaddik in a generation. When he was about to wash his hands and that kavanah was suddenly revealed to him, he understood. So those few tzaddikim, those rare individuals—one in each generation, the rarest of the rare—about them he said... Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says... First of all, we’ve called them complete tzaddikim, and we’ve also called them tzaddikim who have only good, haven’t we? We said that refers to how much of a tzaddik a person is and how thoroughly he has eradicated the evil within himself. Here Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai gives such a person a new name: “people of ascent.” Why give him another name? We’ll see that right here in the continuation. A complete tzaddik and an incomplete tzaddik describe a person’s level in serving Hashem: how far he has succeeded in doing good and in rejecting evil. The name “people of ascent,” though, describes what he does—not his level in his personal service of Hashem, but his effect on the world. Let’s look inside. “That is why they are called ‘people of ascent’: they transform evil and elevate it to holiness.” Why is he called a person of ascent? Not because he is an elevated person, but because he brings about an ascent in the world. “As it says in the introduction to the Zohar: When Rabbi Chiya wished to enter the chamber of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, he heard a voice emerge and say”—he heard a voice coming from Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s chamber, and it said to Rabbi Chiya—“Which of you turned darkness into light and tasted bitterness as sweetness before coming here?” Whoever turned darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness before coming here, to the World to Come, may
36:37 Speaker 1 enter my chamber. But anyone who, while in this world, has not yet turned darkness into light or bitterness into sweetness cannot enter my chamber, says Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Excuse me—he’s speaking to Rabbi Chiya. Rabbi Chiya was one of the greatest Tannaim. He brought the dead back to life. How many stories are there about him reviving the dead? But he hadn’t turned darkness into light. He hadn’t turned bitterness into sweetness. He was a tzaddik in every sense of the word, with all the wonderful qualities our Sages recount about him. There’s the story in the Machanayim books, “Great Are the Deeds of Chiya.” Remember the story? How he... taught the children Torah. Hm?
37:31 Speaker 6 I don’t remember.
37:32 Speaker 1 All right, I’ll briefly tell the main point of the story from the Gemara.
37:36 Speaker 6 Yes.
37:36 Speaker 1 He wanted to teach the children Gemara. Now, he didn’t—apparently, he was a very quiet person. He didn’t explain his actions to people. He really was a tzaddik. So one day they saw him going out to hunt deer. Rabbi Chiya, have you changed professions? Suddenly you’ve left the beis midrash and gone hunting deer. They didn’t dare ask him, so they didn’t. He caught several deer and slaughtered them. There we go—he’s opened a butcher shop. He sold the meat and bought—I don’t remember what—with the proceeds, something else for a holy purpose. He took the hides and processed them. Now he’s set up a tannery. What’s going on? No: he made the hides into parchment for writing Torah scrolls. I don’t know if any of you have ever... Preparing hides is hard physical work, and it takes a long time. He did it. Then he went and wrote not one Torah scroll, but many Torah scrolls. In small writing, presumably. Then he took all the scrolls he’d written and went to a village where there was no one to teach Torah. He gathered the children, gave each one a Chumash, and began teaching them the alef-beis. He taught the older ones some Mishnah, the even older ones some Gemara, and the younger ones only Chumash. He left them the books, told them, “Now teach one another,” and went back and started the whole process again. Our Sages said, “Great are the deeds of Chiya.” What’s the point, seemingly? You want so badly to teach children—buy some books. Why spend all that time? No: from beginning to end, he wanted everything to be done in holiness. That’s why our Sages said, “Great are the deeds of Chiya.” Now, about this very Chiya, our Sages said that if Chiya and his sons had prayed, they would have brought Moshiach
39:39 Speaker 1 at that very moment. Yet Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says, “Those among you who have not turned darkness into light and bitterness into sweetness may not enter here.” No, no—you haven’t rectified it; you haven’t done the work. You can’t enter the chamber. It isn’t the ultimate perfection. “People of ascent” are something else. So that’s one reason they’re called people of ascent: they elevate the world, elevate the good, draw the good out of the evil. A second reason they’re called people of ascent is that even their service in the category of “do good”—observing the Torah and its mitzvos—is for the sake of the Divine, rising higher and higher to the loftiest heights. It isn’t merely in order to cleave to Him, to quench the thirst of their soul that thirsts for Hashem, as it says, “Come, all who are thirsty, to the water.” Usually, why does a person do something? Because he enjoys it. Right? What drives us? The power of pleasure. Why do I think about it? Because I want it. Why do I want it? Because I like it. Why do I like it? Because it gives me pleasure. So one person takes pleasure in worldly things, and that’s what he occupies himself with. Another person takes pleasure in G-dliness, and that’s what he occupies himself with. Right? A complete tzaddik is something else. What drives him, what’s at work inside him, isn’t pleasure. It isn’t what he wants; it isn’t what draws him. What is it, then? What does Hakadosh Boruch Hu want? He has no personal interest at all—he’s utterly, utterly pure. It’s like what Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says about himself: “I am merely a sign in the world.” I am just a sign of Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the world. His students, incidentally, also said of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, “‘The face of the Master, Hashem’—that refers to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai.” You want to look at the face of
41:55 Speaker 1 Hakadosh Boruch Hu? Look at Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. It’s written. This isn’t a joke. What does it mean, “Look at Hakadosh—”? This is the face of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai isn’t an ordinary human being. He isn’t part of this world. His entire being is G-dliness present here in this world. Hakadosh Boruch Hu has clothed Himself in a sack of flesh and bones. That is Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He has no independent existence. His entire being is utterly nullified to G-dliness, to such a degree that he doesn’t even take pleasure in what he does. He doesn’t—he doesn’t [unclear] Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is called Bnei Aliyah. None of his service is for his own sake. He doesn’t love Hashem, study Torah, and fulfill mitzvos in order to cleave to Hashem. That doesn’t interest him at all. What does Hakadosh Boruch Hu want? What do they want from me? Not: What do I want? So that is why they’re called Bnei Aliyah. The first reason they’re called Bnei Aliyah, as complete tzaddikim, is that they elevate the world to holiness. The second reason is that they don’t do it for themselves; they do the work for the One Above. As it says elsewhere, as explained in the Tikkunim: “Who is a chossid? One who acts kindly toward his Creator,” toward the One who acquired him. “To unite Hakadosh Boruch Hu and His Shechinah in the lower realms.” That’s what he seeks in the world: to bring about the union of Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the world. And as it says in Ra’aya Mehemna, Parshas Ki Seitzei: “Like a son who strives for his father and mother, whom he loves more than himself, his soul, his spirit, and his neshamah, and so forth, and who even gives himself over to death for them to redeem them, and so forth,” as explained elsewhere. Sometimes you see a child who loves his parents so much that he’s willing to give up his own interests for them. He’s willing to give all his money and everything, everything
43:51 Speaker 1 he has to help his father or his mother. And what does he get out of it? They’re already old. He isn’t doing it for himself. Right? So that’s an example, an analogy for the love of the Bnei Aliyah: he doesn’t do it for himself; he does it for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He adds in parentheses that the two reasons they’re called Bnei Aliyah go together. Why? Because through refining what comes from nogah—that’s the first reason, that they elevate the world—they raise mayin nukvin, and supernal unions are brought about, drawing down mayin duchrin, which are the acts of kindness in each of the 248 positive mitzvos. All right, we won’t dwell on these Kabbalistic terms here. They are all expressions of kindness. All the mitzvos, all 248 positive mitzvos in general, come from kindness. Do you know how? Have I told you this before? I don’t remember. Why are there 248 mitzvos? Why?
44:51 Speaker 7 The limbs, come on.
44:52 Speaker 1 Huh? Yes, right. And why are there specifically 248 limbs? Why not 342? Huh? The human body corresponds to the human soul, and the human soul, as we learned in chapter 2, is drawn from the holy sefiros. There are nine holy sefiros, not counting malchus. Malchus is already the power to transmit outward. As for malchus itself, “it has nothing of its own.” It has nothing of its own; it only receives from the others. It has no independent existence. The sefiros themselves, the body of the sefiros, are nine. And anything we take has its exterior, its substance, and its inner purpose. The example we always use is a coffee cup. It’s the example that’s always right there on the table. So the cup has an inside meant to hold the coffee—the inside of the cup, right? But the inside of the cup needs the body of a cup to support it. Right? And then there’s the outside, which isn’t for the coffee; it’s so that I can hold it. Right? So every vessel has an exterior, its substance or body, and an inner purpose—what it’s meant for. In spiritual terms too, every vessel has three aspects. We won’t get into how this works with the sefiros now, but in general, each of the nine sefiros has its exterior, its body, and its inner dimension. In Hebrew these are called Chabad, Chagas, and Nehi, but this isn’t the place to go into that. The exterior, the inner dimension, and the body. And since each of the vessels, the nine sefiros, has three aspects, how many does that come to altogether? Oh, sorry. One step earlier. In holiness, each of the sefiros includes all the others. Right? Chesed within chesed, gevurah within chesed, and so on. So each
46:59 Speaker 1 sefirah actually contains 81 particular sefiros—nine times nine—and each of those 81 has a beginning, middle, and end: an inner dimension, an exterior, and its own substance. So 81 times three is...
47:18 Speaker 7 You already said it.
47:19 Speaker 1 Huh?
47:20 Speaker 7 I think you said that already.
47:21 Speaker 1 I thought I’d spoken about this before. Yes. So we’re done with that. Never mind. Altogether it comes to 243. Eighty-one times three is 243, and all nine sefiros come from the five supernal chasadim. So 243 plus five is 248. That’s why he says here that all the positive mitzvos, the 248 mitzvos, belong to the category of chasadim, because they all derive from those five supernal chasadim. All right, that was really an aside. It’s just that this whole passage in parentheses is full of Kabbalistic terms. We’d need to understand each one, but all right. That is, drawing down the holiness of His G-dliness from above to below, to be clothed in the lower realms, as explained elsewhere. So what have we learned from chapter 10? Chapter 10 explains the first step in the struggle, the first step in the battle between the souls, when a person defeats the animal soul. What does it mean to defeat the animal soul? The person is a tzaddik. What does being a tzaddik mean? That he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu completely and, consequently, hates evil completely. And within that there are two levels: is evil utterly, utterly out of the question for him, or is it not utterly out of the question? On the lower level there are many gradations—exactly what isn’t out of the question for him, and to what extent. And the higher level, that of a complete tzaddik, a tzaddik who experiences good, is also called Bnei Aliyah, because he elevates the world to holiness and all his service is not for himself but for the One Above. So that was chapter 10. Our goal isn’t to study what a tzaddik is. That isn’t what interests us. It interests us, but only up to a point. Our goal is to learn what we
49:32 Speaker 1 need to do. We need to understand what a beinoni is. To understand what a beinoni is, it isn’t enough to understand the difference between him and a tzaddik. We also need to understand the difference between him and a rasha. So before we reach the main subject, chapter 12, we’ll devote one more chapter in the next class—chapter 11—to understanding what a rasha is. Only then will we be able to understand what a beinoni is—how there can be such a person, as we asked in chapter 1, about whom you say, on the one hand, that he isn’t a rasha. So is he a tzaddik? No, he isn’t a tzaddik. So what is he? After we understand in chapter 12 what a beinoni actually is, and exactly what is required of us to reach that level, we’ll then be able, in chapter 13 and onward, to begin to understand our own service of Hashem.
50:30 Speaker 8 What about the matter of being a tzaddik in our generation?
50:32 Speaker 1 What?
50:33 Speaker 8 The matter of being a tzaddik in our generation.
50:35 Speaker 1 What do you mean? I didn’t understand.
50:38 Speaker 8 That the Rebbe would say that a person can reach the level of a tzaddik, he can reach the level—
50:47 Speaker 1 As far as we’re concerned—we can? There are many places in Chassidus, including in Tanya, and we’ll encounter this in quite a few places, that say that even a beinoni, and even a rasha, must at various times strive to perform the service of a tzaddik. That doesn’t mean he is a tzaddik or that he can reach that level. Rather, he must also perform the service of a tzaddik. And this isn’t imaginary; it’s genuine. We’ll see that. But it doesn’t mean what some people try to say—I’ve heard this a number of times—that the Rebbe said everything has changed in our generation and today anyone can be a tzaddik. The Rebbe never said that. This idea is written in many places in Chassidus, and we’ll also come to it in Tanya: even someone who isn’t a tzaddik must strive to perform the service of a tzaddik as well, and that service is genuine for him even though he isn’t a tzaddik. And we’ll get to that, with Hashem’s help.