Likkutei Amarim Chapter 16 (Part 2) · 5785

00:01 Speaker 1 We’ll continue chapter 16, which we started last week. Actually, it’s not a long or difficult chapter, but last week we spent a lot of time explaining what hidden love is, so we got a little stuck in the middle. In this chapter, chapter 16, we’ve finally reached the main point of Tanya: the Alter Rebbe explains what serving Hashem means. The Alter Rebbe called Tanya “the Book of Beinonim.” In other words, he comes to guide each and every one of us—ordinary people, beinonim. He guides us in how we can serve Hashem, how we should serve Hashem, and what is expected of us. All the earlier chapters, up to chapter 15, are a kind of preparation. First he explains at great length that a person has two souls, what each soul is, what powers each one has, how the souls fight each other, what kind of battle it is, and what happens when one wins or the other wins. He also explains what a person needs to internalize before beginning to serve Hashem: “Consider yourself as though you were wicked.” Never think of yourself as a tzaddik, or you’ll immediately fall. Know that this is hard work. Don’t expect it to be easy. And although it is hard, the work itself is part of the point. In other words, Hakadosh Boruch Hu doesn’t want only our success; He wants the work itself. And there are several other introductory points like that. In our chapter, chapter 16, after all those definitions, the Alter Rebbe gets to: Okay, so what now? How do we serve Hashem? He begins chapter 16: “This is a great principle in the service of Hashem for beinonim.” So there’s a great principle. What is it?

02:15 Speaker 1 To contemplate the greatness of Hashem until that contemplation takes hold of your heart. And with us, everything—I don’t know. I don’t know how familiar you are with this. So I’ll say it briefly, even though it’s something we keep coming back to. Otherwise it’ll be a little boring for the others, but...

02:46 Speaker 2 You can—

02:47 Speaker 1 Well, let’s say it. No, it’s important. We’ll say it briefly; it’s fine.

02:50 Speaker 2 We’re not unequivocal in our service of Hashem. We’re not unequivocal in our service of Hashem.

02:52 Speaker 1 No, no, of course.

02:54 Speaker 2 Anyway.

02:55 Speaker 1 The Alter Rebbe explains—and Chassidus explains in general—how a person can reach a state in which he will never stumble into a sin. Ever. At every moment he encounters all kinds of things that pull at him. The Alter Rebbe says it’s very simple: if you love Hakadosh Boruch Hu, you won’t commit sins. Love of Hashem is the opposite of love for this world. If you manage to awaken love of Hashem within yourself, you’ll automatically stop loving this world. This world won’t attract you; mitzvos will. You won’t commit sins. That’s the great principle. What’s behind it? How do we awaken love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu? It works like any other feeling. How does a feeling arise in a person’s heart? When a person knows nothing about something, doesn’t know what it’s about, he isn’t interested. It can pass right under his nose and he won’t feel a thing. But when he starts thinking about a particular person—how much good that person has done for me, what a great person he is, how important he is, and how much I should appreciate him, and so on—a feeling of love and appreciation for him begins to awaken in me. Contemplating something arouses the feeling. So the Alter Rebbe says: What is the great principle in the service of Hashem for beinonim? Contemplate the greatness of Hashem, and that will awaken the feeling in you. That’s how the chapter began. Once the feeling of love for Hashem awakens in you, you’ll want only to do mitzvos and won’t want to commit sins, and there won’t be any problem. Then, later in the chapter, he says, “Furthermore, one must know...” Where’s the wording? “Furthermore, one must know a great principle in the service of Hashem for beinonim.” In other words, there’s a first great principle, and then, furthermore, there’s another great principle.

04:55 Speaker 1 What’s the second great principle? He states it on the page—here it’s on line nine. What does it say? We learned this last week too. Someone contemplates the greatness of Hashem. He contemplates and contemplates, works hard at it—and nothing happens. Nothing is awakened. It simply doesn’t work. So the Alter Rebbe says there’s a principle in serving Hashem that goes further, that is greater than the first principle. What is it? Even if contemplation doesn’t enable him to awaken love for Hashem, he can awaken the hidden love within him. That is already considered complete service. It is as though he loves Hashem, and it will lead him to fulfill mitzvos and refrain from sin. It has exactly the same virtue. Why does he say “furthermore”? Because most people don’t manage to awaken a genuine love of Hashem. So for most people, the second principle is more relevant. You should know that even if you can’t awaken an openly felt love in your heart, you can awaken the hidden love. What is that hidden love? We spent the whole class on it last week. We won’t go into all the details here. Every Jew has a soul. A Jew is born with a soul, unlike a non-Jew, an animal, or a plant. A Jew has a G-dly soul, truly a part of G-d above. And this soul has... What does it mean that I have a soul? What does that tell me? I have a soul, but so what? What does it mean? A soul is—how can I put it in my own words, not the language of Chassidus—a kind of being that loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu. In other words, what’s a dog? A dog is a kind of creature with four legs, whose head is at the same height as its back, and that can bark, let’s say. Right? That’s the definition of a dog. What’s the definition of a soul? It’s a kind of reality, an entity, an essence. What is its defining quality? Love of Hashem. That’s what it is. There are explanations of how and why, of its essential bond, and so on. But what is a soul? A soul is a bonfire of love for Hashem. That’s what it knows how to do. That’s what it feels. It cannot think about anything else. A soul has intellect, it has feelings, and so on, but it cannot think about anything that isn’t Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Nothing else can stir it. Show it the most wonderful things in the world, and it isn’t interested at all. No, it’s not interested—it finds them repulsive. Anything that isn’t Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself—it wants nothing to do with it. It throws it down the stairs. That’s a soul. This love of the soul is called hidden love. Why is it called hidden? Because it is hidden. We don’t feel it. Later we’ll see—in the earlier chapters, uh, in the coming chapters, sorry—when it does reveal itself, in what circumstances it can be revealed, and how we can make use of it. But why isn’t it revealed naturally, in the ordinary course of things? The reason is simple. The soul—its love is immense, and it cannot be revealed within the body. The body isn’t a vessel for it. In simple terms, by way of an analogy, it’s like trying to put an enormous treasure into a small container. This holds, I don’t know, two hundred milliliters, and that’s it. That’s all that fits. You can’t take something enormous that can’t be divided up and put it in—it won’t fit. The soul

07:24 Speaker 1 It has four legs, its head is at the same height as its back, and it knows how to bark, let’s say, right? That’s the definition of a dog. What’s the definition of a soul? It’s a kind of reality, a being, an essence. What’s its defining quality? Its defining quality is love of Hashem. That’s what it is. There are explanations of how and what and why—about its essential bond, and so on and so forth. But what is a soul? A soul is a blazing fire of love for Hashem. That’s what it knows how to do. That’s what it feels. It can’t think about anything else. A soul has an intellect, it has emotions, and so on. It can’t think about anything that isn’t Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Nothing else can move it. Show it the most wonderful things in the world—it’s not interested in them at all. No, it’s not interested; they disgust it. Anything that isn’t Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself—it’s “leave me alone.” It throws it out, sends it tumbling down the stairs. That’s a soul. This love of the soul is called ahavah mesuteres, hidden love. Why is it called hidden? Because it’s hidden. We don’t feel it. Later we’ll see—in the previous chapters, uh, in the coming chapters, sorry—when it does reveal itself, in what situations it does reveal itself, and how it’s possible to reveal it and make use of it. But naturally, under ordinary circumstances, why doesn’t it reveal itself? The reason is simple. The soul—its love is immense. It can’t reveal itself in—the body isn’t a vessel for it. In simple terms, by way of analogy, it’s like trying to put some enormous treasure into a small container. I don’t know—this holds maybe two hundred milliliters, and that’s it. That’s all that fits. You can’t take something enormous that can’t be divided up and put it into—it won’t fit. The soul

09:16 Speaker 1 Spiritually, its love is so immense that the body, the mind and the emotions cannot contain it, so it does not become revealed. Still, even though it cannot actually become revealed—well, “cannot” is too strong. Sometimes it can. But in our ordinary daily lives, we do not feel it; we cannot feel it. Yet it does have some effect. What effect? He calls it here “a hidden love in his mind and the recesses of his heart.” Let’s put it briefly, in a word, because otherwise what follows will not make sense. When a person contemplates the greatness of Hashem, someone with a refined heart and mind, who understands a great deal and whose heart is sensitive—when he contemplates it, something really begins to burn within him. It is like a person who... The Alter Rebbe gives an analogy in one of the maamarim: a person who is hungry. Not someone who has not eaten for a few hours, but someone who has not eaten for a day or two and is starving. He cannot think about anything else. He wants food; he cannot help it. It fills his entire reality. That is how it is for a tzaddik. A tzaddik’s love of Hashem is like hunger. He cannot help it; it fills his whole being. He burns with love of Hashem. Then there is someone like us. We contemplate, but our minds do not understand enough and our hearts do not feel enough, so that does not happen. But what does happen? I do understand that I should love Hashem. I’m not a fool. I understand Hashem’s greatness. I understand its importance. I understand why. It is clear to me; I see that this is the truth, that this is how it should be. Right?

11:36 Speaker 1 I want to feel it. That is already a matter of emotion. It is not just that I understand that this is how it should be. I do not only understand; I also want to. Right? But I want to want it. I do not really want it. Right? The Alter Rebbe calls this “a hidden love in his mind and the recesses of his heart—that this is fitting for him.” A person’s heart understands that it is fitting for him to desire Hakadosh Boruch Hu, fitting for him to love. He longs to love. In practice, he does not love, but it is not that he... The Alter Rebbe also gives an analogy for this. He says there is a difference when a person does something because he understands. There can be two ways this happens—not like the earlier distinction between understanding and feeling. Here he does not feel it. There are two ways a person can understand without feeling. One person understands and acts. Why? Because he has to. Why does he pay a fine? Not because he wants to; he understands that he must. He has no choice. Right. Another person goes to work. He is lazy. He does not like working. The truth is, he is lazy and does not like working, but he understands that if he does not work, he will have no livelihood, no money, nothing to eat. So he goes to work. While he is working, does he relate to the work the way someone relates to paying a fine? Certainly not. Right? Why does the first person pay the fine? Only because he understands intellectually. It does not enter his heart at all. The second person goes to work. True, he does not work with enthusiasm and joy. He is not a tzaddik. But he does feel something. His heart

13:35 Speaker 1 agrees. His heart understands that this is how it should be. He wants it to be this way. In practice, he does not feel it so strongly. This is called a love of “this is fitting for him.” He understands that he should serve Hashem. He wants to love, but he does not quite succeed. The Alter Rebbe says: Why is even this enough? Why is this, too, enough? Because once a person wants to serve Hashem—and not just because he was forced to, because he was born into a religious home and his parents are religious and taught him that he has to keep mitzvos, so every morning he has to get up and put on tefillin and it drives him crazy. No, no. He understands, and he does want to. Right? So if he understands and has some feeling in his heart, that is enough for him to keep the mitzvos and not commit transgressions. That kind of contemplation is enough. This is called “a hidden love in his mind and the recesses of his heart—that this is fitting for him.” That is what he calls it. So after explaining this at length, the Alter Rebbe concludes at the end of the page we just turned from: Since he understands that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is infinite, that “all is as nothing before Him,” that everything is considered nothing compared to Him, therefore “it is fitting for him.” It is fitting that the soul of every living being should yearn for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to cleave to Him and be absorbed in His light. And not only the soul of every living being in general—my soul, too; I am also a living being. Right? “And his own nefesh and ruach within him—it is fitting for them, too.” What about his neshamah? Where did his neshamah disappear to here? What does it say? It is fitting not only for the soul of every living being; it is fitting for my own nefesh and ruach, too, to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Why does he not speak here about the neshamah?

15:36 Speaker 3 It is cleaving to Him anyway.

15:37 Speaker 1 Huh?

15:38 Speaker 3 Because it is cleaving to Him anyway.

15:39 Speaker 1 No.

15:39 Speaker 3 Maybe because this is intellectual, so it is not a cleaving born of fervor.

15:43 Speaker 1 Exactly. Yes, that is the point. We discussed in the earlier chapters—already after chapters 2 and 3—that a person’s soul comprises several levels: nefesh, ruach and neshamah. Neshamah is more connected with the mind, with intellect. Ruach is more connected with the heart, with emotional arousal. And nefesh, the lower level, is more connected with the power of action. So what kind of love has now awakened in this person? It is not an intellectually generated love that shines in the heart. He has some agreement in his heart, something somewhat connected with ruach, somewhat with the heart, and mainly with practical action: he will not commit transgressions. In other words, this love includes the aspect of action: he does not commit transgressions; he performs mitzvos. So it is more connected with nefesh. And there is also a little ruach in it, the heart’s agreement. That is why he says “his nefesh and ruach.” This is not the kind of love in which his neshamah also participates, but his nefesh and ruach do. “And so it is fitting for his nefesh and ruach to yearn for Him with longing and desire, to leave their sheath, the body, and cleave to Him. But against their will, his nefesh and ruach live within the body and are bound to it like living widows.” That is an analogy from a verse, which the Gemara also brings. What is a “living widow”? It is a woman whose husband has gone away. On the one hand, she very much wants to marry again, but she cannot. She is still bound to a husband she does not want. She wants to separate from him and go marry someone else, but she is bound to him. That is called a living widow. The soul—the nefesh and ruach, his heart and his power of action—understands and wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It wants to leave its sheath. It wants to get out

18:03 Speaker 1 of its confines, for love to burn within it, but it is bound inside the body. It cannot; it does not succeed. “And their thought cannot grasp Him at all.” The thought of the nefesh and ruach, a person’s thought, cannot grasp Hakadosh Boruch Hu at all. It cannot leave the body and grasp Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu is infinite, while the nefesh and ruach are limited, confined within the body. So he cannot grasp Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He understands that he wants to. He very much wants to want to, but he cannot leave the body and cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu; he is bound within the body. There is one exception: “Except when it grasps and clothes itself in the Torah and its mitzvos.” When his nefesh and ruach, his soul—the person—keeps Torah and mitzvos. We already learned in chapters 4 and 5 that there are three garments: thought, speech and action. Right? I have three faculties of the soul: the power of speech, the power of thought and the power to act. Three faculties through which I operate in the world. Hakadosh Boruch Hu also gave us mitzvos in three general categories. There are mitzvos that depend on thought, duties of the heart. There are mitzvos that depend on speech, such as the mitzvah of Torah study—and there are a few others, including prayer. And there are mitzvos fulfilled through action. So the Torah and mitzvos are the garments of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. I have thought, speech and action, which are my garments. When I grasp the garments of Hakadosh Boruch Hu with my garments, I grasp Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He gives an analogy there: embracing the king. When a person embraces the king, the king may be wearing many layers of clothing, and I may be wearing many layers, too. But when I embrace him, I am embracing the king. So what if he is clothed in garments?

20:19 Speaker 1 So, that’s the analogy. What does it mean for us? My soul cannot truly grasp G-dliness, feel it, or understand it. I’m limited by a body. But since Hakadosh Boruch Hu clothed Himself in Torah and mitzvos and gave me the ability to embrace Him by observing them, when I observe Torah and mitzvos, I embrace Him and connect with Him. True, I don’t feel it, but it happens. With every mitzvah I do, I’m grasping Hakadosh Boruch Hu, embracing Him, becoming one with Him. As in the analogy—line six: “Like one who embraces the king mentioned above.” And therefore, since that is how it is—I can’t grasp Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself, but through Torah and mitzvos I can—“therefore it is fitting for them.” Who is “them”? His nefesh and ruach. That is, a person’s capacity for action and emotion, his thought, speech, and action. “To embrace Him”—to embrace Hakadosh Boruch Hu—“with all his heart, soul, and might.” How? “That is, by fulfilling the 613 mitzvos in action, speech, or thought—the latter being the comprehension and knowledge of Torah, as explained above.” So what’s so great about this principle? Here he finishes explaining the point. What was he trying—what has he been saying from the beginning of the chapter until now? There is a great principle in serving Hashem for the beinoni. The principle is that you should contemplate G-dliness until you grasp it, awaken, become moved and inspired, and turn into a different person. You can’t? That’s all right. When you observe Torah and mitzvos, you still grasp Him. What... That sounds like a consolation prize, doesn’t it? True, you can’t do that, but at least you have something. That’s how it sounds, doesn’t it? Yes or no?

22:20 Speaker 4 It does.

22:21 Speaker 1 Huh?

22:22 Speaker 4 It does.

22:22 Speaker 1 It doesn’t sound so good. So why does the Alter Rebbe say, “Furthermore, one must know a great principle: even if you still can’t do that, this is a complete form of service”? What does “complete” mean? It means whole. The Alter Rebbe wants to tell us that this service—merely awakening the hidden love, merely understanding what I need to do, and sometimes—this service is just as complete as that of someone who does experience an awakened love of Hashem. Where do we see that? We haven’t seen the explanation. We haven’t seen how it works, right? So it needs explaining. How does he explain it there? “Behold”—I’ve said this many times. In Chassidus generally, in the writings of all our righteous Rebbes, when they say “behold,” it’s a new stage. Something needs explaining; a new subject is beginning. What’s the explanation? How is this—why is it a complete form of service? “Behold, when one delves deeply into this matter, into the greatness of Hashem, within the hidden recesses...” By the way, how does one delve into the greatness of Hashem? Huh? There are many maamarim—one really does need to learn them, so there’s something to contemplate, something to delve into. There are very, very many maamarim of Chassidus explaining what the greatness of Hashem is. So many. Endless details. And when you learn them, you have something to contemplate. But here he gives only the general principle, not the details. “Behold, when one delves deeply into this matter within the hidden recesses of his heart and mind”—it’s only within those hidden recesses. It isn’t actually revealed, but he delves into it to the extent he can. “And his mouth and heart are in accord.” What does it mean for his mouth and heart to be in accord with the hidden recesses of his heart and mind? That with his mouth and in action, he carries out what he understood and felt. Yes, his mouth and heart are in accord. His mouth matches his heart. “For with his mouth he carries out what was resolved in his heart and mind.” In other words, he actually studies Torah: “His desire is in the Torah of Hashem, and he meditates on it by day

24:51 Speaker 1 and night,” with his mouth. And not only with his mouth. Not only does his mouth match his heart, but with his hands and his other limbs he also performs the mitzvos relevant to them, in keeping with what was resolved in his heart and mind. So what happens? “For this understanding becomes clothed in the action, speech, and thought of Torah and its mitzvos.” That’s already remarkable. Really remarkable. What does “becomes clothed” mean? What does the concept of being clothed in something mean? The soul is clothed in the body. What’s the difference between a soul clothed in a body and electricity making a motor move? Are they the same or not? They’re not the same, right? The same? Not the same. What’s the difference?

25:58 Speaker 5 The electricity doesn’t unite with the machines.

26:02 Speaker 1 Electricity makes the machine move, but the machine doesn’t become alive; the electricity doesn’t unite with it. It gives it a command, makes it move, but it doesn’t become one with it. When the soul gives life to the body, the body becomes alive. It’s not that there’s some dead thing here and the soul inside operates it like a marionette, a puppet, pulling its strings. The soul unites with the body, so that the body becomes alive. That’s what “being clothed in” means. What is the Alter Rebbe saying here? When a person understands something intellectually and then carries out in speech and action what he understood and decided he should do, his intellectual decision becomes clothed in the action. That’s what the words say, right? Yes? That’s what’s written. Let’s read it again. “When one delves deeply into this matter within the hidden recesses of his heart and mind”—he thinks about it—“and his mouth and heart are in accord.” His mouth matches his heart, his thoughts. What does that mean? “For with his mouth he carries out what was resolved in his heart.” With his mouth and through his actions, he does what he understood. And then what? This understanding becomes clothed in the action, speech, and thought of Torah. So his intellect becomes clothed in what he does. Why doesn’t that fit? What’s the problem? Can intellect unite with action? I’ll give an example. One person talks, just talks. Another talks with feeling, with enthusiasm. Is there a difference? A big difference. One person does all kinds of things. Another does them with enthusiasm. Is there a difference? A big difference, right? Why? What’s the difference?

28:17 Speaker 5 He does it better.

28:20 Speaker 1 Yes, but why?

28:22 Speaker 5 It has an effect.

28:23 Speaker 1 Emotion can unite with speech and action. Intellect cannot. Intellect can direct speech and action. It can tell them, “Do this; speak this way.” But intellect cannot unite with them. Why? Intellect is too high. It’s something elevated, too high to unite with the lower faculties of the body. The heart, because it’s lower, is more physical, more material. Like the other limbs, it’s also an organ of the body. It isn’t something spiritual. It’s a more refined, more delicate organ, but it’s closer to the other limbs, so emotion can unite with action. When a person is enthusiastic about something and acts with that enthusiasm, the enthusiasm unites with the action—the action is alive. But when a person acts only out of understanding, you don’t see the intellect in what he does. It doesn’t unite with the action. Right? What is the Alter Rebbe saying here? A person contemplates the greatness of Hashem, but he has no feeling. He has only intellect, only understanding in the hidden recesses of his heart. He doesn’t feel anything. So what does it mean that his contemplation becomes clothed in the action? What happened here? Something here needs explaining. “This understanding becomes clothed in the action, speech, and thought of Torah and its mitzvos, serving as their intellect and vitality and as wings with which to soar upward, as though he had engaged in them with actual fear and love revealed in his heart.” What are “fear and love”? Awe and love revealed in his heart. In parentheses he says, “His desire, yearning, and longing felt in his heart.” We won’t explain all those levels now. “And his soul thirsting for Hashem because of the flames of love in his heart, as explained above.” So since that understanding, that contemplation, becomes clothed in the action just like a revealed emotion does, then just as a revealed emotion can elevate the action, his understanding, his contemplation, can also

30:42 Speaker 1 elevate the action to a spiritual level. These matters are explained at great length in chapters 37 and 38 of Tanya. Here he says it in one line; there it takes two whole chapters. Why? How does it help? “And this understanding in his mind and the hidden recesses of his heart is what leads him to engage in them. Had he not contemplated this understanding, he would not have engaged in Torah and mitzvos at all. He would have occupied himself solely with his bodily needs.” But wait—we learned in the previous chapter that there are two kinds of beinoni. Remember “one who serves Him” and “one who does not serve Him”? Do you remember the difference between—

31:37 Speaker 6 What, isn’t there anyone here who was at the last class?

31:41 Speaker 1 You and Chani, what—

31:42 Speaker 6 All right.

31:43 Speaker 1 And Yael, and—Yael was there—

31:46 Speaker 6 All right, but no.

31:55 Speaker 1 Okay. In short—and I’m saying this imprecisely; you can’t really put it this way—a beinoni is a person who does not commit aveiros. Not only does he not commit aveiros in practice; he has never committed an aveirah, and he never will. A person who committed an aveirah even once in his life is no longer a beinoni; he is a rasha. He committed an aveirah. How can you call him a beinoni? Even if he committed an aveirah only once in his life, in speech—he slipped into gossip or lashon hara—that’s it. He is no longer a beinoni; he is a rasha. He committed an aveirah. Even if he only thought something, if the faintest such thought passed through his mind—that’s it, he is already a rasha. If he does teshuvah, that’s different. As long as he hasn’t done teshuvah, he is a rasha. A beinoni is a very high level. On the other hand, the Alter Rebbe says that every one of us is a beinoni. He says both things. He doesn’t say that everyone can become a beinoni; he says that everyone actually is a beinoni. Not necessarily right now. If a beinoni is someone who does not commit aveiros, what does it mean that the Gemara speaks of one beinoni who serves Hashem and another who does not serve Hashem? Even the beinoni who does not serve Hashem does not commit aveiros. And if he does not commit aveiros, that means he does not neglect Torah study for even one second throughout his life. Imagine a person who only fulfills mitzvos all the time. An aveirah? Never in his life. You can’t talk to him about anything except Torah and holiness. Every free second—there is no

33:41 Speaker 1 free second. He is learning all the time, davening all the time, his whole life. You will never see him doing anything else. And the Alter Rebbe says: that isn’t called serving Hashem. He doesn’t serve Hashem. How can that be? You try to think who in our generation is on that level, and he is called someone who doesn’t serve Hashem? Then what does it mean to serve Hashem? So the Alter Rebbe explains there that there are two kinds of people. Some people have a yetzer hara that pulls them toward the pleasures of the world. It keeps pulling them; they feel drawn. Every worldly pleasure they see attracts them: food, other things, I don’t know, trips, a swimming pool—anything excites them. They have to keep fighting themselves. It’s hard for them. That is called serving Hashem. Then there’s someone to whom the world doesn’t speak so much. Why? He’s an introvert. He’s happy at home. Why does he learn Torah? He likes learning. He’s religious, and he likes learning. That’s what people learn, so he learns it. He doesn’t learn Torah because love of Hashem burns within him; he learns because he likes learning. Why doesn’t he commit aveiros? He isn’t drawn to them. This world doesn’t attract him that much. So in practice he commits no aveiros and only fulfills mitzvos, and he never slips up in anything. But is that because he serves Hashem? No. That’s just his nature; he doesn’t have to struggle. So the Alter Rebbe says—what is he saying here? If a person did not contemplate the greatness of Hashem and arouse at least the hidden love in the depths of his heart and mind, he could not be a beinoni. He

35:46 Speaker 1 could not be in a state where he commits no aveiros at all. Why? Because even if a person is naturally diligent in his learning, by nature he nevertheless loves his body even more. If a person does not contemplate or think about the greatness of Hashem and just follows his nature—he likes learning—eventually he will turn to other things as well. Why? Because he lives in this world, and there are other things in this world. So even if he is not as strongly drawn to them, eventually even such a person, a beinoni who does not serve Hashem—what does “does not serve Hashem” mean? That he does not struggle. But we must say that he does contemplate the greatness of Hashem, at least enough to arouse the hidden love within himself. Otherwise he could not be a beinoni. But all this still doesn’t answer the question we started with: How can thought become invested in action and speech the way a feeling of the heart does? Okay? We’re back at the beginning. And our Sages alluded to the answer when they said, “A good thought, Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins to action.” What is the allusion here? What is the plain meaning of this statement? If a person wants to do a mitzvah—he has a good thought—but in practice circumstances beyond his control prevent him and he doesn’t manage to do it, that’s all right. Hakadosh Boruch Hu considers it as though he did it. Right? That’s how you understand the plain meaning. So the Alter Rebbe asks: “It should have said that Scripture considers it as though he did it.” Why did our Sages say, “A good thought, Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins to action”? They should have said that Hakadosh Boruch Hu considers his good thought as though he had carried it out. What does it mean that He joins it to action? The person didn’t do anything. What action is there to join

38:09 Speaker 1 it to? Is the question clear? The Alter Rebbe says that our Sages wanted to allude to something beyond the plain meaning. What is the allusion? “Fear and love that are revealed in his heart”—in someone who does succeed in arousing love in his heart—“are what become invested in the performance of the mitzvos and give them life.” We spoke about this earlier. He contemplates the greatness of Hashem, a burning love is born within him, and now he fulfills every mitzvah with enthusiasm, vitality, and love. So clearly his mitzvos are already... Let me bring out another point here. I can’t do it like this; I’m skipping too much. What does it mean—sorry, let me open a parenthesis—what does it mean when a person fulfills a mitzvah and the mitzvah flies upward? Where exactly did it go? A person fulfills a mitzvah, and his mitzvos ascend to heaven. Which mitzvah? I lit a candle; the candle stayed here. It didn’t go anywhere. Right? I sat in a sukkah. What does it mean that the mitzvos ascend? What goes up? Here’s the point: our actions, like all actions in the world, are material. Something material cannot connect with something spiritual. The life-force that animates the material thing is already spiritual, and it can ascend. It can cleave to and connect with the G-dliness in the higher worlds. But if the life-force is bound to the material action, then it is bound to it: the action is down here, and the life-force will stay down here too. For the life-force that animates the material things in the world to connect with G-dliness, it has to be given life.

40:24 Speaker 7 Hashem agrees there.

40:26 Speaker 1 How do we give it life? When a person does something with enthusiasm, he puts his feelings, his own vitality, into the action, and then the action can connect with the person himself. Why does he have enthusiasm in his heart? Because he contemplated the greatness of Hashem. What is the greatness of Hashem? He connected with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and now he connects with the action. So it ascends. But if he fulfills mitzvos merely out of habit, mechanically... Let’s tell the story of the holy Baal Shem Tov again. We’ve told it many times, but it always needs telling again. It illustrates the point very vividly. It is told that once the Baal Shem Tov came with his holy circle to a town. They reached a beis midrash, and the Baal Shem Tov did not want to go in. They asked him why he wasn’t going in—his students, or whoever it was, asked him. He said he couldn’t go in: the place was full of Torah and davening, and there was no room for him. So the students said, “Is that a reason not to go in? The place is full of Torah and davening!” They were surprised. Later—not right then, but after some time—the Baal Shem Tov explained, whether in connection with this incident or another, that everyone learning Torah there was learning for honor, out of ego. It was Torah studied not for its own sake. Since it was not for its own sake, it was without feeling. So all the Torah they learned and all their davening stayed inside the shul; it did not ascend. That was why there was no room for him to enter. He did not want to enter such a place. So we need to make sure our mitzvos do not stay down here. How do we do that

42:07 Speaker 1 How do we do that? By putting life and feeling into it. How do we put life and feeling into it? By awakening the feeling. How do I awaken the feeling? I contemplate the greatness of Hashem. But if I don’t succeed, what good does it do that I understand why I’m doing it, if my understanding doesn’t connect with the action? How can it give life to the action, raise it up, connect it to G-dliness, if I’m not there emotionally? There’s something here—we need to get past something. What’s happening here? The author of the Tanya says: This is exactly what our Sages meant when they said, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins a good thought to the action.” Do you have a good thought? Your thought is a good thought. You contemplated the greatness of Hashem. You wanted G-dliness to awaken within you. Your thought is a good thought, yes. Did you perform the action? Why did you perform it? Because of that good thought. Hakadosh Boruch Hu makes the connection. On their own, they really cannot connect. Since you had a good thought, and that thought brought you to perform the action, Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins it to the action. So I’ll say it here in a few words: The point is that fear and love revealed in the heart become clothed in the performance of the mitzvos, giving them life so they can soar upward. For the heart, too, is physical, like the other limbs that perform the actions; but the heart is their inner life-force, and so it can become clothed in them and serve as wings for them. We spoke about this earlier. It can raise them up. But the fear and love that are in the understanding of the mind and hidden in the heart, as discussed above, are far, far above the level of action. They cannot become clothed in the performance of the mitzvos to serve as their intellect and life-force and raise them to soar upward—unless Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins and connects them to the action. And they are

44:01 Speaker 1 called a “good thought”: the fear and love hidden in the understanding of the heart and mind. Why are they called a good thought? Because this isn’t really a feeling. The heart agrees, but there’s no feeling here. They are not actual fear and love revealed in the heart; the person feels no emotion. What are they, then? They exist only in the understanding of the mind and hidden recesses of the heart, as explained above. There’s an interesting note here. Let’s read it inside, because it introduces a novel point. What the Alter Rebbe said here—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins the thought to the action—is a novel idea. It’s a very nice explanation, but who says that’s what happens? When the Alter Rebbe says something like this, which seemingly has no source and doesn’t follow logically, he’s saying, “Listen, I know this is what Hakadosh Boruch Hu does.” Prove it. How do you know? Where do you get that from? So the Alter Rebbe inserts a note here explaining it and bringing a source from Kabbalah. We’ll read it briefly and explain it quickly. As it says in the Zohar and Eitz Chaim, books of Kabbalah, the letters of tevunah, understanding, spell ben and bas, son and daughter. Now, what is tevunah? When you say a person is contemplating something, what are you saying he’s doing—feeling or thinking? He’s contemplating right now. So what’s he doing? Thinking. Is tevunah, contemplation, connected to emotion? It will awaken emotion afterward. But tevunah itself has nothing to do with emotion. It means understanding, comprehension. Right? No, that’s not right. The Zohar and Eitz Chaim say that the letters of tevunah spell ben and bas. What is a son?

46:05 Speaker 8 It’s, uh, a father.

46:07 Speaker 1 What?

46:07 Speaker 8 A son is a father? A father.

46:10 Speaker 1 Yes. We said in chapter 3, at the beginning of Tanya, that Chochmah and Binah are the father and mother who give birth to the children—the middos. Who are the sons and daughters? Chessed is the son and Gevurah is the daughter. That’s what it says there in chapter 3. So what do the Zohar and Eitz Chaim say? That the letters of tevunah spell ben and bas. Tevunah—what are ben and bas? Chessed and Gevurah. What does tevunah have to do with Chessed and Gevurah? Tevunah is thought. Chessed and Gevurah are in the heart. What does it mean that the letters of tevunah spell ben and bas? It has to do with fear and love. Why? Because sometimes tevunah descends to become the intellect of Nukva of Zeir Anpin. Among the ten sefiros there are the intellectual faculties—Chochmah, Binah, Daas. There is Zeir Anpin, the middos—Chessed, Gevurah, Tiferes, and so on. And there is Nukva, Malchus, the final sefirah. Usually, what is the normal order? A person contemplates, and that illuminates his feelings. So where is tevunah usually clothed? In emotion. Emotion becomes clothed in speech and action. Right? The intellect becomes clothed in emotion. That’s usually the order: intellect becomes clothed in emotion and illuminates it, and emotion becomes clothed in action and illuminates it. But Eitz Chaim says that sometimes, in special cases, tevunah descends directly into Nukva, directly into action, and connects with it. The Alter Rebbe says: This is what it says in the Zohar and Eitz Chaim. It’s exactly what we explained here. When does this happen? When does tevunah connect directly with speech and action? When a person acts for the sake of Heaven: he contemplates and makes an effort; he wants to have love for Hashem. Then Hakadosh Boruch Hu connects the understanding with the action, even though that isn’t the usual order. All right, what is the action? The letters of Torah and mitzvos. But Hakadosh Boruch Hu makes this connection in order to raise the performance of mitzvos and the study of Torah done with the good thought mentioned above

48:46 Speaker 1 up to the World of Beriah, where Torah and mitzvos performed with intellectual fear and love actually revealed in the heart ascend. We’re drifting back into the lengthy discussion in chapter 39. I’ll explain it briefly. In the spiritual realms, there are, broadly speaking, three worlds: Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah. The World of Asiyah is the spiritual level revealed in the Holy of Holies in the Beis Hamikdash. That’s called the World of Asiyah. It’s not the world of action in the sense of our actions. It’s how G-dliness is revealed on the level of action. Our actions belong to this world, which is full of evil and wicked people, where the wicked prevail. The World of Asiyah means the spiritual World of Asiyah: the revelation of G-dliness in the Holy of Holies inside the Beis Hamikdash. So that is G-dliness descending to the level of action. What is that like? How is it revealed there? The Gemara says about the Holy of Holies—and everyone knows this—that “the place of the Ark did not take up space.” We spoke about this once. I don’t remember whether we did or not.

50:19 Speaker 9 We didn’t cover that here, did we?

50:21 Speaker 1 Yes. Inside the Holy of Holies was the Ark. The Holy of Holies had dimensions. Never mind those for now; I’ll only confuse you with numbers. Say it was ten meters across, and in the middle was an Ark two and a half meters wide. Never mind. If they measured from the Ark to one side and then to the other, there were five meters on each side—as though the total distance from wall to wall was ten meters. So where are the two and a half meters the Ark itself takes up? Yet you can measure the Ark. It does exist. So is it there or isn’t it? The point is that within the Holy of Holies there was a revelation of G-dliness beyond time and space, where time and space don’t take up space, so to speak. That is G-dliness on the level of action. Above it is the World of Yetzirah, G-dliness connected to emotion and arousal, not to action. Higher still is the World of Beriah, where G-dliness is revealed in a way connected to the soul and the intellectual faculties; and higher still is the higher Gan Eden. So, broadly speaking, we said earlier that when a person fulfills Torah and mitzvos with life and enthusiasm, his Torah and mitzvos connect with G-dliness in the higher worlds. Where? In which world? It depends on the kind of life and enthusiasm with which he performed the mitzvah. If he performed it with great enthusiasm and strong emotion, where will it be revealed? In the World of Yetzirah, the world of emotion. And if his emotion was awakened through intellectual contemplation, it will ascend to the World of Beriah, to the higher world, to the higher Gan Eden.

52:12 Speaker 9 And tznius?

52:13 Speaker 1 Tznius isn’t a world.

52:15 Speaker 9 Wait, so I said Yetzirah.

52:18 Speaker 1 Huh?

52:18 Speaker 9 But where is Asiyah?

52:21 Speaker 1 He isn’t talking here about action. Action is a matter of fulfilling mitzvos and kabbolas ol. Here we’re talking about feeling. That also ascends. In a moment—one second. The Alter Rebbe says: What does it mean that Hakadosh Boruch Hu “joins a good thought to the deed”? When a person contemplates until he has a hidden love, where would it naturally ascend? After all, that love is a natural love; no openly felt emotion has awakened in him. It would ascend only as far as the world of Yetzirah. What does it mean that Hakadosh Boruch Hu joins it to the deed? He joins the thought to the deed so that it ascends not only to the world of Yetzirah, but to the world of Beriah. It rises higher and higher. That’s what he’s saying here. Now, even without this special contemplation, it wouldn’t ascend to Beriah, but it would ascend to the world of Yetzirah through the natural, hidden love and awe in the heart of every Jew, as explained at length later, in chapters 38 and 39. So what did chapter 17, which we studied, say?

53:49 Speaker 9 Even if we don’t feel it, we need to contemplate the fact that it’s what we should do, and then Hakadosh Boruch Hu will consider it as though we did it—as though we felt it?

53:56 Speaker 1 That’s the point. The great principle in serving Hashem for beinonim is: Don’t try to be a tzaddik. Don’t try to be—you’re not one. Know that if you contemplate Hashem’s greatness and make an effort, and you want to have love of Hashem, that’s enough. That is complete, wholehearted service, and it accomplishes no less than the service of beinonim. And as we’ll see later in chapter 27, it accomplishes more than the service of tzaddikim. Having now studied the whole book of Tanya—it’s a book for beinonim, about how to serve Hashem—we’ve learned the two great principles.

54:41 Speaker 9 So that’s what Hashem—

54:43 Speaker 1 So we’ve learned the two great principles of serving Hashem. What remains, really, is just to close the circle. The circle began on the title page. On the title page of Tanya, he writes—he begins—“A book…”

55:02 Speaker 9 Are those explanations available? Just so I can get to know them.

55:05 Speaker 1 Yes, everything is available. On the title page he writes, “Sefer Shel Beinonim, founded on the verse, ‘For the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it,’ to explain thoroughly how it is very close.” There are two explanations of what “in your mouth and in your heart, to do it” means. The main explanation is that it is very close to everyone—in your heart, to love Hashem, to fulfill the mitzvos out of love. Now that we’ve seen how to awaken that love, and that even if I don’t succeed in actually awakening love, I can have a hidden love—“it is fitting for Him”—I understand that I should love Hashem. I also know how to awaken that. So what remains in chapter 17 is really to sum up and show how the entire service of Hashem of the beinoni explains the goal stated on the title page. And that, in a sense, is the end of Tanya. There’s more afterward, of course, but the first circle of Tanya is chapters 1 through 17. It explains the essential service of Hashem—the service of a beinoni at its highest level. Then, from chapter 18 onward, he begins to explain: Fine, there are people who can’t manage even that—and that’s most people. For someone whose capacity to understand Hashem is limited, he goes on from chapter 18 to explain how that person, too, can serve Hashem—and, on the contrary…

56:45 Speaker 10 Before Tanya—that’s what we started with.

56:47 Speaker 1 Wait, one second, let me finish. And what do I mean by “on the contrary”? The Alter Rebbe begins there in chapter 18: There’s a lower level, and on the contrary; then an even lower level, and on the contrary; and lower still. Until, at the very end of Tanya, in chapters 46 through 49, the final chapters, he says that the very, very lowest level is, on the contrary, the greatest of all. That is the purpose of everything.

57:10 Speaker 10 Thank you very much. We really enjoyed it.