Likkutei Amarim Chapter 13 · 5781

00:01 Speaker 1 All right, before we begin, we need to say something. Because when you study Tanya—perhaps the hardest thing about studying Tanya is that you learn and learn, read and read, and you don’t understand what it’s trying to say. Then there’s another point, and another, and another. It doesn’t end. Where is it heading? What’s going on here? The ideas in Tanya are very deep and often very long. Almost every idea Tanya presents stretches over two, three, four, five, or even eight chapters. If you read Tanya straight through without pausing between one idea and the next to look at what we’ve said so far and what subject we’re now beginning to study, you won’t understand either the earlier idea or the next one. It all gets mixed up into one big jumble in your head, and in the end you haven’t learned anything. So we said that the purpose of Tanya, from its first letter to its last—all of Tanya, quite literally—is to explain the verse, “For the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” Throughout all fifty-three chapters, from the first letter to the last, the Alter Rebbe does not deviate from this subject in the slightest. He explains only this verse: “For the matter is very near to you, in your mouth…” That is what he explains. Chassidus discusses countless other subjects that are not included in Tanya. In Tanya, he explains only how serving Hashem is within reach of every single person. That is the subject. And because that is what he wants to explain to us, the first thing he needs to explain is what is required of someone serving Hashem. I’m about to explain to you how serving Hashem is very near to you. So the first

02:23 Speaker 1 thing is to explain what serving Hashem means. What is this thing that is very near, that we are being asked to do? That comes first. So he begins in chapter 1 by setting out the goal. What is the goal? What is this “very near” thing that we need to understand? It is observing Torah and mitzvos perfectly. He goes to great lengths to prove this from the revealed dimension of Torah, not Chassidus at all. Half of Tanya’s first chapter is entirely from the revealed dimension of Torah: passages from the Gemara and rulings of halachic authorities. What does it mean to observe Torah and mitzvos perfectly? It means that a Jew never commits a transgression in his life and never neglects a mitzvah. That is called perfection—in positive mitzvos, in prohibitions, and in Torah study. The person, the Jew, is complete. Complete means that he never fails. Now, after defining the goal in the first half of chapter 1—that this is what serving Hashem means—the question immediately arises: How can the Torah say that this is very near? You’re telling me it’s near, but I don’t feel that something like this is within my reach. The Alter Rebbe says: To understand how perfectly observing Torah and mitzvos can be very near, you first need to get to know your own abilities. You need to know who you are and what forces are at work within you. Then we can teach you how to use them, and you’ll see that “the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it” truly applies to you as well. So he spends twelve chapters—or, more precisely, eleven and a half, since the first half of chapter 1 defined the goal—explaining to every Jewish man and woman what they are. What is the nature of the person to whom the Torah says, “The matter is very near to you”? That person is a beinoni. We’re not talking here about—this isn’t something the Torah demands only of tzaddikim. The Torah

04:31 Speaker 1 demands it of every single person: ordinary people, beinonim, born into ordinary families, with ordinary parents and ordinary children. This is the beinoni whom Tanya addresses, whom the Torah addresses. And from that simple, ordinary person, the Torah demands that he serve Hashem perfectly, that he observe Torah and mitzvos perfectly. It means that you, too, will never commit a transgression. Every single person. The Alter Rebbe then explains that every Jew has a G-dly soul and an animal soul. Each soul has its essence, its faculties, and its garments. He goes on to explain that the souls battle one another. When the G-dly soul wins, the person is called a tzaddik. But understand: I’m not talking about a tzaddik. When the animal soul wins and the person commits a transgression, he is called a rasha. The Alter Rebbe says: Understand that I’m not talking about a rasha either. I’m talking about a beinoni. What is a beinoni? He explained that in chapter 12, after the long introduction we studied last time. A beinoni is someone whose inner nature is like that of a rasha, while his conduct is like that of a tzaddik. In his inner nature, he has a good inclination and an evil inclination, just like a rasha. In his conduct, he never commits a transgression; he is completely attached to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, like a tzaddik. How is that possible? If he has an evil inclination, why doesn’t he fail? If he never fails, how can he have an evil inclination? How do those two things go together? The Alter Rebbe explains that a beinoni is someone who, because he has done teshuvah, is able to daven with deep attachment to Hashem. Since he did teshuvah beforehand, the barrier of his sins no longer separates him from Hashem. So while davening, he can truly attach himself to Hashem with genuine love and awe. And because he experienced genuine love and awe during morning davening, that love and awe

06:56 Speaker 1 influence him throughout the day and give him the strength to restrain himself. Even though he has an evil inclination, desires, and all sorts of negative things that can enter his thoughts, he can hold himself back and overcome them. That is the nature of a beinoni. How does such a person serve Hashem? Later, in chapter 15, the Alter Rebbe will say that there is a great principle in a beinoni’s service of Hashem, and another great principle, and that one can contemplate this or approach it in that way. He will explain it over several chapters. But before he begins explaining how the beinoni we learned about in the previous chapter actually serves Hashem, we said at the end of the last class that there are three chapters in between: 13, 14, and 15. In these three chapters, the Alter Rebbe isn’t explaining what a beinoni is; he has already explained that. Nor is he explaining how to serve Hashem. You can look inside—there isn’t a single word here about how to do it. He explains three fundamental ideas a person needs to know in order to succeed in serving Hashem. They’re like three foundations a person needs. This isn’t about what to do; it’s about three things you need to understand and somehow keep in mind. Briefly, the first of these, in chapter 13, is: “Be in your own eyes like a rasha.” Don’t think too highly of yourself. Even if you feel you’ve already risen higher, that you really are succeeding and can now overcome your evil inclination—even more than that—never tell yourself that you’re a beinoni. The moment you start giving yourself credit, the moment you loosen your grip, it will come back. “Be in your own eyes like a rasha”—that is the message of chapter 13. First and foremost, a person needs to be humble, needs to

09:01 Speaker 1 To know that he is not a tzaddik. And then a person can fall into—fall into despair. “I’ve worked hard my whole life, I’ve made such an effort, and they tell me that, after all that, I’m still... They tell me from the outset that I have no chance.” A person can fall into despair. Chapter 14 comes and says: Have trust in Hashem. What you can do is what is asked of you. No one asks you to do more than you can, and every person has been given the strength to succeed and win the battle. That’s chapter 14: hope, trust and faith. So the first principle was “regard yourself as a rasha.” The second is hope, trust and faith. Then a person might say, “Okay, I get it. I’m off and running. I’m going to work. I’m ready to start.” The Alter Rebbe says, “Wait, wait, wait. I have one more thing to tell you. Don’t get carried away; it won’t be easy.” Chapter 15. The whole of chapter 15 comes to tell us: Listen, hard work lies ahead. That’s your task. You’ll never succeed. You need to have trust and faith that this is what is wanted of you, and that through it you do good for yourself and for the world, bring Moshiach, and accomplish everything within the scope of what you can do and are asked to do. But at the end of the day, know that it won’t be easy. Okay, got it? You understand that it isn’t easy? Let’s begin. Chapter 16: “Now, a great principle in the service of Hashem.” All right? So now that we’ve got a sense of who we are and where we stand, today we’ll learn chapter 13, “Regard yourself as a rasha.” Chapter 13: “And with this we can understand the wording—” It’s down there. “And with this we can understand the wording of our Sages’ statement, ‘The beinoni is judged by both this one and that one’”—he adds in square brackets, “[meaning the good inclination and the evil inclination]. As it is written, ‘For He stands at the right hand of the needy, to save him from those who judge his soul.’ They did not say, G-d forbid, that both this one and that one rule over him.”

11:25 Speaker 1 We remember the question from chapter 1, one of the questions from chapter 1: What did Rava mean when he said, “The beinoni is judged by both this one and that one”? What does “judged by both this one and that one” mean? He asked it there and left the question hanging. Now that we’ve learned that the beinoni has both a G-dly soul and an animal soul, we can understand what we asked in chapter 1. What does “judged by both this one and that one” mean? What’s the precise wording? The point, says the Alter Rebbe, is that it says they “judge” him, not that they “rule” over him. Why? If the evil inclination—what would it mean for the evil inclination to rule? What does “rule” mean? Someone who rules gives orders, right? Whatever he says, you have no choice; you have to do it. Yes. So if we say the evil inclination rules over a person even for a moment, for one second, once a day, once a week, then in that moment it determines what the person will do. That means the G-dly soul cannot resist. If a person is in a situation where the G-dly soul cannot resist, he is no longer a beinoni; he is a rasha. A beinoni is someone who can always resist. He might fail, but if he makes the effort, he will succeed. A rasha is as it says in chapter 1: “The wicked are in the control of their hearts, but their hearts are not in their control.” He cannot resist. If the evil inclination rules, then it’s no longer a case of “both this one and that one judge him”; he is already a rasha. So with a beinoni, the precise wording is “both this one and that one judge him.” There are two judges here, not rulers, because if the evil inclination has any rule over the “small city,” even briefly, the person is called a rasha at that time. Rather, in the beinoni, the evil inclination does not rule. It is only, by way of analogy, like a judge who states his opinion in a case. Even so, it may

13:31 Speaker 1 be that his opinion will not become the ruling in practice, because there is another judge who disagrees with him, and someone must decide between them. The law follows the one who decides. That is the analogy, and so it is with what the analogy describes. The evil inclination states its opinion in the left chamber of the heart. We said that the animal soul dwells in the heart and the G-dly soul dwells in the mind. Do you remember where we said that? At the beginning of chapter 9, right? Exactly. The evil inclination states its opinion in the left chamber of the heart, and from the heart it rises to the mind to be thought about. Immediately the second judge disagrees with it: the G-dly soul, which is in the mind and extends into the right chamber of the heart, where the good inclination dwells. It’s rather pictorial language, but if we stop and think about it for a moment, that is exactly how it works. When I have a desire for something, it’s not that I reflect on it and decide that it’s good and desirable. I see something, or hear it, or smell it, and then I desire it, and then I start thinking about it. Right? That’s the order. Yes. In other words, the desire really begins in the heart, and because I want it, it rises to the mind, and then the mind begins to dwell on it and think about it. But if the person is a beinoni, once the thought reaches the mind—yes, it can reach the mind, because the evil inclination in the heart is working; it’s active. But once the thought reaches the mind, the G-dly soul is there, and it does not let the mind dwell on it. “And the law follows the one who decides”—that is Hakadosh Boruch Hu, who helps the good inclination. As our Sages said, “Were it not for Hakadosh Boruch Hu helping him, he could not overcome it.” How does Hakadosh Boruch Hu help the beinoni overcome his thoughts? What is that help? The help is the radiance with which the light of Hashem illuminates the G-dly soul, giving it the advantage and the power to prevail over the foolishness of the fool and the evil inclination, just as light has the advantage over darkness, as explained above. If you remember, last time we learned Shlomo’s analogy: “I saw that wisdom has an advantage over folly, just as light has an advantage

15:47 Speaker 1 over darkness.” We asked: What is the great insight of the wisest of all men? That wisdom is better than folly, just as light—what kind of analogy is that? What is there to explain? What isn’t obvious here? So the Maggid explained that King Shlomo did not mean that wisdom is better than folly just as light is better than darkness. That’s not the point. The point is that just as light automatically drives away darkness, so wisdom automatically drives away the foolishness of the evil inclination. And that is precisely the help. Hakadosh Boruch Hu made things such that when a person—I have some desire, and now I’m beginning to dwell on it, but the moment I remember that it’s a desire, at that moment it goes away. It disappears. Why does it disappear? The heart still wants it. And everyone knows that once they make the decision, it—it—it disappears. Where does that power come from? Hakadosh Boruch Hu implanted the nature of light in the G-dly soul. So the moment the G-dly soul shines, the animal soul—the darkness—disappears. It stops. That is the help and support Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives the G-dly soul. Now I have a question. Everything we’ve learned from the beginning of the chapter until here—we’ve already said it before, right? There’s nothing new here. So if he’s continuing to give us more explanations of what the beinoni is, why did he put this in chapter 13? If this whole passage, all this length, is needed at all, it should have been in chapter 12, not chapter 13. Where you explain what a beinoni is, you add a few more words. Why all this length here? The explanation is in the next line: “And therefore he is called like a rasha.” The whole introduction about “both this one and that one judge him”

17:52 Speaker 1 and about the folly comes to answer the central question in chapter 1: What does “regard yourself as a rasha” mean? Once we understand what “regard yourself as a rasha” means, we’ll be able to move on to the idea of the chapter. What was the question? “Regard yourself as a rasha”—do you remember? Yes, it seems to contradict two verses that contradict each other. So what is the answer, really? Is there an answer or not?

18:23 Speaker 2 Now the teacher—

18:24 Speaker 1 Huh?

18:25 Speaker 2 Now the teacher—

18:26 Speaker 1 Yes, I thought maybe you knew. Okay, so let’s look inside.

18:28 Speaker 2 There are always questions.

18:30 Speaker 1 Yes, no, but that’s the question I’m starting with. It’s a famous question, and the answer is famous too. All right, let’s look inside. “Even if the whole world tells you that you are a tzaddik, regard yourself as though you were wicked”—not actually wicked, but one should consider oneself a beinoni. So when it says a person should be a tzaddik, he should be a tzaddik. But when it says, “Regard yourself as though you were wicked,” it doesn’t say, “Be wicked in your own eyes.” What does it say? “Do not be wicked in your own eyes.” A person must not see himself as wicked. He must not be wicked, and he must not consider himself wicked—but he should regard himself as though he were wicked. Don’t think you’re a tzaddik. So there’s no contradiction. Each statement is talking about something different. “Do not be wicked in your own eyes” means a person must not consider himself wicked. If he does, he really will walk around with his head down all the time. You can’t serve Hashem that way. Don’t consider yourself wicked; do consider yourself a beinoni. “Do not be wicked in your own eyes,” but do regard yourself as though you were wicked. All right? “Rather, he should consider himself a beinoni and not believe the world when they tell him that the evil within him has been nullified before the good, which is the level of a tzaddik.” Because this is very, very common. Very common. A person who isn’t observant sees an observant person and immediately sees a tzaddik. And that feels good. Yes. He even feels, “I’m better than him,” right? Or an observant Jew sees a rabbi who has even studied an entire tractate of Gemara. Wow, what a tzaddik! He knows the whole Torah by heart! And the rabbi feels like a tzaddik. Yes, and that’s how it goes, level by

20:50 Speaker 1 level, for every single person. So what does “regard yourself as though you were wicked” mean? Don’t believe the world when they tell you that you’re already a tzaddik. You need to know what a tzaddik really is, and you need to know that you’re not actually one. Rather, he should regard himself as though the essence of the evil is still in full force and strength in the left chamber of his heart, just as it was from birth, and not a bit of it has gone away. In other words, we’re talking even about a Jew who really is a beinoni in practice, who never stumbles—not in action, not in speech, and not in thought. All day long, his whole life. Even someone who has reached that level must still consider himself a beinoni. Why? Because the fact that he always manages to overcome the yetzer hara doesn’t mean he has no yetzer hara. The yetzer hara brings him thoughts and desires, and he overcomes them. On the contrary, the Alter Rebbe says in line thirteen, it grows stronger over time through our frequent use of it in eating, drinking, and other worldly matters. We know that whenever a person practices something, that ability grows stronger. Right? He wants to be a dancer, so the more lessons he takes, the more flexible he becomes. He wants to run a hundred meters, so the more he runs and practices, the stronger he gets. It’s the same with intellectual things. Someone studying arithmetic—the more he applies himself and studies and studies and studies, the easier it becomes for him to solve problems. His mathematical sense gets sharper. And so it is with all a person’s abilities and faculties. The more a person uses a particular faculty or talent, the stronger it becomes. That’s how the world works. The Alter Rebbe says the yetzer hara works the same way. All the yetzer hara is interested in is eating, drinking, and enjoying the world. That’s what it understands. That’s

23:13 Speaker 1 what it knows. You eat every day, you drink every day, and it grows stronger. Every day you eat, every day you live, the yetzer hara grows stronger. It gets practice; it keeps growing. So what if you always manage to overcome it? You don’t stumble. That doesn’t mean you’re a tzaddik. It wants to turn a person away from the path of truth, and its arguments are foolish arguments. What arguments does it make? It draws a person toward things that bring him death, that kill him, that take him off the path of life, that deprive him of this world and the World to Come, that push him toward the mouth of Gehinnom. What arguments does it bring a person? All its arguments are false and foolish. So why is it called an old and wise king? In Yiddish they call it der kluginker, the clever one. It is clever, yes—but clever and foolish. Our Sages said about Achashverosh: Was he a wise king or a foolish king? Yes, there are also those who are wise at doing evil. That exists too. So all of that was about an ordinary beinoni. That we can understand. A person who has reached the level of a beinoni should not consider himself a tzaddik. All right, why? Because he has a yetzer hara. Here the Alter Rebbe begins to say: Wait, there’s a beinoni on a higher level. Not only does he never actually commit a sin. There is a Jew who has no desires, no desires, no yetzer hara; no distracting thoughts occur to him; he is constantly attached to Hakadosh Boruch Hu—and even he is still not a tzaddik. Let’s look inside, at line fourteen. “And even one whose desire is in the Torah of Hashem.” He loves studying Torah “and meditates on it day and night.” Because he loves Torah, he studies it day and night. He doesn’t stop. He loves it; it’s

25:23 Speaker 1 pleasant for him, it’s good for him. That’s his pleasure in life. Imagine a Jew like that. His pleasure is studying Torah, so he doesn’t stop for a moment. And not only that—he studies Torah lishmah. He isn’t just studying Torah; he studies Torah for its own sake. Genuine Torah study. Even for a Jew on this level, whose pleasure is studying Torah and who therefore actually studies it all day, and who never actually has distracting thoughts or desires, “this is no proof at all that the evil has been displaced from its place.” No. What does that mean? If he had a yetzer hara, shouldn’t distracting thoughts occur to him from time to time? Why don’t they? Why doesn’t he have desires? Because it could be that the essence of the evil remains in full force and strength in its place, in the left chamber of the heart. Nothing has changed; it’s all still there. The yetzer hara is alive and well, active and functioning, even kicking. So why don’t I feel it? It’s just that its garments—the thought, speech, and action of the animal soul—do not find expression in the brain, mouth, hands, and other limbs of the body. Why don’t they? After all, he has a great, strong, powerful yetzer hara. Because Hashem gave the mind control and dominion over the heart. This Jew loves studying Torah and enjoys it, every moment of it. So he studies Torah all the time. While he is studying Torah, the G-dly soul is speaking, right? The G-dly soul is now present and active. It is performing a mitzvah right now. Since the G-dly soul is now revealed, the animal soul cannot speak. Does that mean he has no animal soul? Let him stop studying Torah now, and you’ll see exactly what happens. So the first level was about a Jew whose G-dly soul is active—when? During davening. After he finishes davening, throughout the day the G-dly soul is no longer so revealed. So the animal soul can bring about all kinds of

27:38 Speaker 1 Desires, stray thoughts, and then there’s a battle. There’s a Jew on a higher level who studies Torah after davening. For how long? Day and night; he enjoys it. He studies, he has a livelihood, thank G-d, and he loves studying Torah, so he studies all the time. So the stray thoughts don’t come—or rather, they don’t have a moment, an opportunity to come to him. Is that proof that he’s a tzaddik? No. He continues to eat and drink, and his yetzer hara continues to grow. Everything is fine with his yetzer hara; it hasn’t been pushed out of its place at all. On the contrary, it has grown stronger over time. So what is it? It isn’t given a chance to raise its head. That’s why. Right, but that isn’t the subject of this chapter. It says, “A tzaddik eats to satisfy his soul.” An ordinary person eats to satisfy his soul. The G-dly soul doesn’t need to eat to be satisfied. A person eats because he’s hungry, or because it tastes good, or because he understands that if he eats, the sparks will be refined, let’s say. Yes, but he isn’t eating to satisfy his soul. It isn’t the G-dly soul that’s eating in him. A tzaddik eats because Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded him to eat. He’s fulfilling a mitzvah. For a tzaddik, there’s no difference between keeping Shabbos, putting on tefillin, lighting a candle, or eating. It’s the same mitzvah: Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded both. That’s entirely different. This is explained at length in… there’s a Chassidus Mevueres on Likkutei Torah. One of the maamarim there is about eating, eating on Shabbos. It’s one of the things the Alter Rebbe discusses at great length. It’s mentioned in Tanya and later very briefly. Tanya says that when Hillel the Elder would go to eat, he would say of himself that he was going to do kindness for the poor and needy one. Someone has to take care of him. All right, so now we’re talking about the level

29:37 Speaker 1 second level of the beinoni. The second level is a Jew whose delight is in the Torah of Hashem, and therefore his yetzer hara does not reveal itself in him, because Hashem gave the mind control and dominion over the heart. So the G-dly soul in the mind rules over the left chamber of the heart and over all the limbs of the body, so that they become garments and a vehicle for the G-dly soul’s three garments—thought, speech, and action in the 613 mitzvos of the Torah. So all of this concerns the garments. The garments of the G-dly soul are expressed, while the garments of the animal soul are not. But the essence of the G-dly soul has no control or dominion over the essence of the animal soul in a beinoni, except for one exception: when love of Hashem is revealed in his heart. And we said that the G-dly soul dwells in the mind, while the animal soul dwells in the heart. What does that mean? Emotionally, a person tends toward desires. Intellectually, a person is more inclined toward G-dliness, toward spiritual thoughts. A person’s heart generally pulls him downward, and his mind pulls him upward. The G-dly soul is in the mind and the animal soul is in the heart. When is there an exception? When can it happen that a person’s heart draws him toward G-dliness, like the G-dly soul does, so that the animal soul is truly nullified? The animal soul dwells in the heart. What is it doing there? Drawing the person toward the desires of this world. When can the heart, instead of drawing a person toward this world, suddenly draw him—when can a person be drawn with love toward Hakadosh Boruch Hu? How can such a thing happen? The G-dly soul dwells in the mind, not in the heart. During davening, as we said in chapter 12. During davening he contemplates the greatness of Hashem. He contemplates everything discussed in davening—the angels, the way Hakadosh Boruch Hu governs the worlds—until that contemplation penetrates him and gives rise in his heart to a feeling of love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And the moment he has love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu in his heart, the animal

32:02 Speaker 1 soul has nowhere left to be. Where could it be? Its place has been taken; it’s been driven out. At this point, when a person has love in his heart, he’s no longer just driving away the garments of the animal soul. It’s not only thought, speech, and action. Here he controls the essence of the animal soul. As long as we’re talking about thought, speech, and action, it’s a matter of control: I want to do something, I understand that it’s forbidden, and I stop myself. Right? In terms of desire, in my heart, I would want to. I am drawn to it, but I have a mind and I understand it’s forbidden, so I don’t do it. That’s a beinoni. His heart draws him there. He has a mind, he has a G-dly soul, and he catches himself. He doesn’t do what’s forbidden. That’s a beinoni. When is it different? When does that change? During davening. During davening, when a Jew contemplates the greatness of Hashem, something changes in his heart. His heart stops wanting this world and starts wanting Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Is that clear so far? Yes? Now, once his heart wants Hakadosh Boruch Hu, he no longer has to order his thought, speech, and action to stop in the face of the animal soul. No. His heart wants Hakadosh Boruch Hu. If my heart wants Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then I’ll think about that, talk about that, and do it. Right? This means that the G-dly soul has taken control not only of the garments of the animal soul; it has taken control of the animal soul’s essence, its very core. It simply grabbed it out of the heart and threw it outside. When does this happen? It happens during davening, if he davens as he should.

33:46 Speaker 3 Davens as he should.

33:47 Speaker 1 Huh?

33:48 Speaker 3 How do you daven as you should?

33:50 Speaker 1 We’ll see that later, in the coming chapters. How do you serve Hashem? We’ll see that later. How do you serve Hashem? Here we’re only talking about what serving Hashem is, not yet how to do it. The “how” will come. We’ll see a long path and a short path, and if there are difficulties, how to resolve them. There are problems, and later some very important points will become clear. But first we’re talking about what the goal is, what needs to be done, and what the difference is. So there’s a beinoni… Let me repeat it, because this point is a little hard to understand, but it’s very important. The first level of the beinoni is a beinoni who, during davening—a beinoni is someone who loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu during davening. What happens for the rest of the day? He can control his thought, speech, and action, but he has no control over his heart. There’s a beinoni on a higher level who controls his heart all day, as he does during davening. Why? Because he studies Torah. So that’s the difference between a beinoni who studies Torah all day and a beinoni who doesn’t study Torah all day. For both of them, the key point is the same. What has an effect on him? What makes him a beinoni? He contemplated the greatness of Hashem during davening, and that caused his heart to stop being drawn toward desires and start being drawn toward Hakadosh Boruch Hu. I’ll go back to line eleven: “But in a beinoni, it is like a person who is asleep and can wake from his sleep. So too, the evil in a beinoni is like one asleep in the left chamber of the heart during Shema and davening, when his heart burns with love of Hashem; afterward, it can awaken again.” So even a beinoni whose delight is in the Torah of Hashem and who studies His Torah day and night, who studies Torah for its own sake and truly loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu in his heart all day and all night—all right, yes, because now the G-dly

35:38 Speaker 1 soul is speaking; now he’s studying Torah.

35:40 Speaker 3 So why do you remember it too?

35:41 Speaker 1 The main heading of chapter 13 is “Three levels of the beinoni.”

35:46 Speaker 3 How many, how many divisions?

35:48 Speaker 1 Because, generally speaking, they’re all called beinonim. Now, among beinonim themselves, there are three levels. Some people give chapter 13 the heading “Three Levels of the Beinoni.” That’s also true, but it isn’t the deeper point the Alter Rebbe wants to make. The Alter Rebbe says something even more than that. There can be a Jew for whom it’s not just that his animal soul doesn’t speak throughout the day. It isn’t because he’s learning Torah; it goes much further. Throughout the day, too, his heart burns with love of Hashem just as it does during davening. Exactly like a tzaddik. What is a tzaddik? We said a tzaddik is someone who has transformed his yetzer hara into a yetzer tov. Right? We discussed that in chapter 10. What does it mean to transform the yetzer hara into a yetzer tov? He has no yetzer hara. None. The very heart that, in our case, is drawn to love and desire the things of this world—in a tzaddik, that heart is drawn to G-dliness, holiness, Torah and mitzvos, and to cleaving to the oneness of Hashem. That’s what’s in his heart. And when you offer a tzaddik something worldly, some indulgence, or just food, I don’t know. Some matter of money, or honor, whatever it might be—it repels him. It’s unthinkable to him. He doesn’t—what do they want from him? That’s a tzaddik. There’s also a beinoni like that. There’s also a beinoni like that. In what way? All day long, not only during davening, he is in a state of love of Hashem. A fire burning for G-dliness, exactly like a tzaddik, with no difference at all. So why do you call him a beinoni? All right, is the question clear? Let’s look inside. “And therefore Rabbah considered himself a beinoni, even though his mouth never ceased from study, and his desire was in the Torah of Hashem day and night.” And his desire for Torah and mitzvos—he didn’t merely learn Torah all day,

38:19 Speaker 1 but did so “with longing, yearning, desire, and a soul thirsting for Hashem with great love, as during the recitation of Shema and davening.” There are about five or six levels of love of Hashem here, each of whose significance is explained at length elsewhere. Rabbah was the tzaddik of his generation. That was agreed upon, just as in our generation there is no dispute that the Rebbe is the tzaddik of the generation. In Rabbah’s generation, no one disputed it. The name Rabbah is connected with greatness. He was the tzaddik of the generation. And when he told his students, “Someone like me is a beinoni,” Abaye got upset. If you, the tzaddik of the generation, are a beinoni, what are we? We’re all resha’im, and “the wicked, even in their lifetimes, are called dead.” How can you leave anyone any life? That was the question raised in chapter 1. So how did Rabbah consider himself a beinoni? Didn’t Rabbah know what a beinoni and a tzaddik are? Didn’t he know he had no bad thoughts? Didn’t he know he had no bad desires? He knew himself. He wasn’t a liar. You can call him humble, but humble isn’t the same as a liar. How could he say such a thing about himself? Now we understand why. Because there is a beinoni who is like a tzaddik not only outwardly, but inwardly too. “And he appeared to himself like a beinoni who davens all day.” That’s the secret. There can be a Jew who really is a beinoni, who has a yetzer hara, but has reached such a high level that all day long he remains in a state of davening. Not that he actually davens all day. When he’s davening, he davens. Later, when he goes to learn halachah, or whatever it is, and learns a little Torah after davening, he learns with that same feeling he had during davening, with love of Hashem. Later, when he goes to eat, he’s still in that same state of davening. He hasn’t finished davening yet.

40:23 Speaker 1 Then he goes to work. He works, he has a business, he sells eggs, I don’t know what he does, he lifts blocks. Whatever he does, he’s still davening, like “a beinoni who davens all day.” There is such a thing as a Jew who has reached so high a level that he can continue to hold himself there, to fix his mind on the greatness of Hashem and simply not stop thinking about Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Now, for him this isn’t natural. For a tzaddik it’s natural; it’s his nature. For a beinoni it isn’t natural. He fixes his mind there forcefully and persistently, with effort—by sheer force. He makes himself think about the greatness of Hashem all the time. So it isn’t natural. If he stops thinking about the greatness of Hashem for even a moment, he’ll be exactly like everyone else, because his yetzer hara is still there. If so, how can a person who really is in that state know whether he’s a beinoni or a tzaddik? He knows that he fixes his mind on the greatness of Hashem. He knows that, right? He knows he has love of Hashem. He knows he hates all the desires of this world. He feels it.

41:43 Speaker 4 Well, how can he know that it’s—

41:44 Speaker 1 But how can I know whether it’s because I’m doing something to bring it about, or because it’s my nature? What can I do to check?

41:56 Speaker 4 How do I know it’s real?

42:00 Speaker 1 How can you know it’s real?

42:02 Speaker 4 That my love of Hashem really is because—like, it doesn’t seem to him like—everyone imagines himself to be, uh, someone like that...

42:11 Speaker 1 We’re not talking about someone who imagines things about himself. We have to seek the truth. There’s a sicha of the Rebbe in Likkutei Sichos, volume 22, that explains what lashon hara is. Lashon hara—does anyone need an explanation of what lashon hara is? Does someone need to be told? Lashon hara is when I say such and such about another person. That’s lashon hara. It’s forbidden, right? The Rebbe quotes the holy Alshich—perhaps you’ve heard of him—who writes: “Why are there no tzaraas lesions today?” There aren’t any lesions. People speak lashon hara. Why aren’t there lesions? Right? You might tell him that lesions aren’t relevant nowadays. What do you mean, they aren’t relevant nowadays? The Rambam writes that the laws of lesions do apply nowadays. More than that, our Shulchan Aruch—the ordinary Shulchan Aruch sitting on the shelf that we open from time to time—sets out several laws concerning lesions. If a baby has a baheres lesion where the bris milah needs to be performed, you may not perform the bris milah, because he has a baheres and you may not cut away a tzaraas lesion. That’s a Shulchan Aruch that applies during exile. So why, in practice, is this so uncommon? We don’t see these lesions in everyday life. The Alshich says: “Lesions come when only the outside of a person is blemished. If a person has evil inside, and outwardly, too, he speaks evil, then ‘one thing of the same kind does not form a barrier.’ He is impure through and through, from the inside out.” There’s no difference between the inside and the outside. Why would he need some kind of outward sign of it? He’s impure through and through. That’s what the holy Alshich writes. The Rebbe explains: “There are two kinds of lashon hara. There’s a kind where, why does he speak lashon hara? Because he hates his friend.” He doesn’t hate anyone—“I don’t hate my friend. Well, not really. No, it can’t be that he’s over there and I’m here, and everything’s fine. I don’t hate him. Let’s just not talk, not meet, not see each other.” Yes, the moment someone mentions his friend, he has something to say. So he says it. Why does he say it? Because he has something to say. His speech merely brings out what’s in his heart. Right, that’s one kind. But when the Rambam or the Gemara’s Sages discuss lashon hara, they don’t present a case like that. What is their example of lashon hara? What Miriam said about her brother Moshe Rabbeinu. Now, Miriam the prophetess was a prophetess and a tzaddekes. She didn’t speak about Moshe because she hated him. That’s clear. She put herself on the line so that he would come into the world, so that he would be born at all. Afterward she risked herself to save him from the river, and she raised him. She didn’t hate him. Why did she speak? She spoke for his benefit. She was concerned. What was happening there? She wanted to look out for his welfare. Right, but what did she do? She said something. The words weren’t good. They came from a pure heart, from good, thoughtful intentions, from holiness and righteousness. But the words weren’t good. Someone hearing them from the outside could interpret them in one way or another. That is what brings lesions. So where does that leave our lashon hara? We’re not on those levels. When a person stops for a moment and thinks about himself—where are my thoughts? Where are my desires? What do I want out of life?—he can’t deceive himself. He can’t think he’s a tzaddik. We aren’t. None of us is there. But the Alter Rebbe says something far beyond that: that a Jew

44:20 Speaker 1 Not really. No, it can’t be that he’ll be there and I’ll be here, and that’s fine. I don’t hate him. Let’s just not talk, not meet, not see each other. Yes, the moment someone mentions his friend, he has something to say. That’s why he speaks. Why does he speak? Because he has something to say. His speech merely brings out what’s in his heart. True, that’s one kind. But when the Rambam or the Gemara—the Sages of the Gemara—speak about lashon hara, they don’t give a case like that. What is lashon hara? It’s what Miriam said about her brother, Moshe Rabbeinu. Now, Miriam the prophetess was a prophetess; she was righteous. She didn’t speak about Moshe because she hated him. That’s clear. She risked her life so that he would be born in the first place, and afterward she risked her life to save him from the river, and she raised him. She didn’t hate him. Why did she speak? She spoke for his benefit. She was concerned. What was going on there? She wanted to look out for him. Right? But what did she say? She said something. The words were not good. They came from a pure heart, from good, thoughtful intentions, from holiness and righteousness. But the words were not good. Someone hearing them from the outside could have interpreted them in different ways. That is what brings afflictions. So where does our lashon hara stand? We’re nowhere near those levels. When a person thinks about himself for a moment—where are my thoughts? Where are my desires? What do I want out of life?—he can’t fool himself. He can’t think of himself as righteous. We aren’t. None of us is there. But the Alter Rebbe says much more than that: that a Jew

46:23 Speaker 1 Someone like that, who knows about himself that he never has desires. He remembers that over the past year, not a single desire came up. It just didn’t happen. There is such a thing. So why shouldn’t he think of himself as a tzaddik? He has no desires, no cravings. He hates everything connected with this world. Why shouldn’t he think of himself as a tzaddik? The Alter Rebbe says: No. The reason you have no thoughts, cravings, or desires isn’t that you’re a tzaddik. It’s that you pray all day without stopping. All right. So that is the level of... of a beinoni, and that is why Rabbah considered himself a beinoni, even though “his mouth never ceased from study,” and so on. He saw himself as a beinoni who prays all day long. As our Sages said, “If only a person would pray all day long.” So up to this point, he has explained the three levels of a beinoni, and on that basis he has explained the teaching of our Sages, “Be in your own eyes like a wicked person.” No matter what level a person reaches, no matter how successful he is in maintaining it—even if he keeps rising higher and higher in his service of Hashem, has learned Torah, can already pray at length, and who knows what else—he should never consider himself a tzaddik. At most, a beinoni. But now comes the opposite question: If I’m only a beinoni, what does that mean? A beinoni is someone who hasn’t defeated the yetzer hara. So what is all my work worth? What is all this worth? I work and work, I make an effort, I toil, I keep at it—and I’m told from the outset that I’ll never succeed. That’s a little discouraging, isn’t it? Right, it doesn’t sound so great. It doesn’t sound good. So let’s look inside. From here to the end of the chapter, the Alter Rebbe answers this point

48:28 Speaker 1 : “Now, this love described in the case of beinonim during prayer, through the ascendancy of the G-dly soul, and so on—in comparison with the level of tzaddikim, who serve Hashem in the truest sense, this kind of love is not called true service at all.” Right. Compared with a tzaddik’s love, mine really is nothing. “Since it fades and passes after prayer, and it is written, ‘The lip of truth shall be established forever.’” Do you know what “the lip of truth” means?

48:58 Speaker 5 A lie.

49:00 Speaker 1 What is it? What is it? Lipstick. Lipstick is something you put on your lips, right? What is the shore of the sea?

49:10 Speaker 5 The edge.

49:11 Speaker 1 The edge that... It’s not the edge that... It’s what’s on the outside, what marks the boundary. Right? The “lip” of truth is the outer boundary of truth. So for tzaddikim, even the lip of truth, even what lies at the edge of their truth—even that is lasting for them. “Shall be established forever.” But for us, “a lying tongue is only for a moment”: during prayer it’s one way, and after prayer it’s another. So how... So for us, it isn’t truth at all, not even the lip of truth. “This kind of love is not called true service at all, since it passes after prayer, and it is written, ‘The lip of truth shall be established forever, but a lying tongue is only for a moment.’ Nevertheless,” despite that, “in relation to the level of beinonim, for us it is called their truly genuine service, each person according to his level among the beinonim.” It doesn’t matter whether you’re a beinoni on Rabbah’s level, a beinoni who studies Torah all day, or just an ordinary beinoni who has distracting thoughts during the day too. At each person’s level, his truth is real. What does that mean? How can you call it genuine truth if it isn’t lasting? “For the love they experience during prayer is also called ‘the lip of truth shall be established forever.’” Why? “Because their G-dly soul has the power to reawaken this love at any time.” In the Beis Hamikdash there was a lamp called the... the western lamp, the perpetual lamp. Why was it called the perpetual lamp? Because it was lit anew every day. It didn’t burn without interruption. The daily offering was a perpetual offering. What does that mean? It was brought once in the morning and once toward evening. Yes, but it was brought anew every day. A beinoni, too, is a Jew at a level where, if he wants to awaken his love of Hashem, he can. So at one moment he has

51:11 Speaker 1 truth in practice, and at another he has truth in potential, but he has truth all the time. So at his level, it is genuine truth. “When the G-dly soul gains the upper hand during prayer each day, through the proper preparation for each person according to his capacity and level.” Yes, clearly one person needs a lot of preparation and another needs less, but everyone can do it. “For the attribute of truth is the attribute of Yaakov, who is called the middle bar that runs from end to end, from the highest levels and degrees down to the lowest of all levels. At every level and degree it passes through its central point, which is its point and aspect of truth. And the attribute of truth is an inheritance without bounds. There is no limit to it above, up to the loftiest levels, while all the levels and degrees below are as nothing compared with those above them. As is known to those versed in the mystical teachings, the head and intellect of lower levels are beneath even the heels and feet of the levels above them, as the Zohar says, ‘The feet of the living creatures correspond to all of them.’” All right, we read that quickly because I can see you’re all getting a little tired. The main point we’ll explain here at the end of the chapter is very simple and very clear. True, my truth isn’t a tzaddik’s truth, but it is genuine truth. Why? The Torah, truth, is infinite. Infinite means it is not limited. What does infinite mean? It has no limits. Just as it is not limited above, it is not limited below. What does it mean that it is not limited above? It has no end. What does it mean that it is not limited below? Wherever I am, my truth is connected to that same truth. It isn’t a different truth. There it is in practice and here it is in potential. Fine, but it is there; it exists. It exists within me, and I can awaken it every day. So we have both sides here. On the one hand, I must not consider

52:56 Speaker 1 myself a tzaddik. I have to see myself properly, as only a beinoni. I need to know that in practice I still haven’t driven out the animal soul, and I won’t be able to drive it out completely. On the other hand, I need to know that the service I’m doing is true service. It is no less important and no less genuine than the service of tzaddikim. They serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu with the strength they were given, and I serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu with the strength I was given.