Likkutei Amarim Chapter 26 · 5781

00:01 Speaker 1 Good. Good. All right, today we’re learning chapter 26. Chapter 26 begins the third section of the first part. If you remember, we spoke several times at the beginning about the structure of Tanya. We said that Tanya is built in two parts. The first part is about working with the heart, and the second is about how to bring enthusiasm and feeling into action, so that the mitzvos shine and aren’t dry mitzvos. The first part is about using the heart to arrive at mitzvos in practice. The second is about making the mitzvos shine rather than leaving them dry. So the first part is about using the heart—with feeling, with love and awe—to arrive at mitzvos in practice. The Alter Rebbe divides that into three sections, three parts. The first is chapters 1 through 12—sorry, actually 1 through 16. There the Alter Rebbe explains that we have a soul, that a soul consists of ten faculties, and that there is an animal soul, and they struggle with each other. And to succeed in serving Hashem, you need hope, confidence, and faith. All the foundations of serving Hashem—what this is all about—are at the beginning, in the first section. Then comes the service of Hashem itself: the long path and the short path. And the third part, which we’re starting to learn today, runs from chapter 26 through chapter 34. It explains the reasons someone might try and still not succeed. So I want to look at the first diagram, and I’d like you to look along with me. Up there on its left side, yes? “The service of the beinoni.” It’s divided into the foundations of the service, the long path, and the short path. We talked about that, right? The long path—you see that underneath it there are just two boxes, just two chapters—sets out the broad principles of serving Hashem, and shows that everyone needs to know it is within everyone’s reach. It’s the work of the mind ruling the heart, through contemplation, to arouse

02:47 Speaker 1 love and awe. And when a person loves Hashem and stands in awe of Hashem, he’ll observe all the mitzvos. It’s called the long path because it takes a lot of contemplation, a lot of thought. It’s difficult. Then there’s the short path. He gives that eight chapters, which are divided into three sections. First he explains what the hidden love is, in two chapters. Then, so that we can bring the hidden love to light, bring it out and reveal it within ourselves, we need to see the connection between every positive and negative mitzvah and the oneness of Hashem and idol worship. So he explains what the oneness of Hashem and idol worship mean. Then, in the last three chapters, which we learned over the past few weeks, he explains how, in practice, it’s enough for me to remember every day—throughout the day. I only need to remind myself that if I were put to the test over idol worship, I would give up my life. And the transgression I want to commit right now separates me from Hakadosh Boruch Hu in exactly the same way as idol worship. So I’ll give up my life rather than violate even the smallest mitzvah. And this applies both to positive mitzvos and to negative mitzvos. With that, we finished the explanation of serving Hashem through the short path and the long path. A Jew comes to the Alter Rebbe and says, “Listen, I contemplated, I thought, I tried, I wanted to, I made an effort, I studied, I examined it, I did everything according to the recipe. It isn’t working. I’m not succeeding.” The Alter Rebbe says in the chapters we’re now starting to learn that, broadly speaking, only two things can interfere with serving Hashem. There are just two things that can stop a person from serving Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so that even if he tries very hard and makes a tremendous effort, he won’t succeed. What are those two things? First of all, sadness. A person who is in a state of despair

05:26 Speaker 1 constantly has thoughts like: “I’m not worth anything. What is a beinoni? That’s an exalted level. I’m just a rasha. I can’t reach those things. There, you see? I tried and didn’t succeed.” As long as a person is caught up in sadness and despair, bitter about himself and thinking he’s worthless, he has no confidence, no strength. He’s tired. He can’t defeat the yetzer. And because the yetzer knows this very well, the yetzer hara comes to us, to every one of us, and puts all kinds of despairing thoughts into our heads, all kinds of thoughts that make us sad and have nothing to do with serving Hashem. Because the yetzer hara knows that if my spirits are low, I certainly won’t succeed in defeating it. So it does everything it can to bring us down. If we learn the yetzer’s tactics and look, one by one, at the kinds of sadness it tries to bring upon us, we’ll know how to recognize them and how not to fall into them. We’ll never be sad; we’ll always be joyful, and then we’ll be able to keep defeating it. Again, this isn’t easy work. But when we do fall into sadness, we’ll know where it came from and why. We’ll realize there really is no reason to be sad, and then we’ll be able to defeat it. That’s one thing. The advice for dealing with sadness is in chapters 26 through 28. Then the second thing that interferes with serving Hashem is timtum halev, a dulling of the heart. It can happen that a person is happy and optimistic. He’s happy, he contemplates, he makes an effort, he has a good mind, and he understands—yet love of Hashem still doesn’t awaken in him. Nothing happens. He knows that he even defeats the yetzer. He has

07:44 Speaker 1 no problem fighting the yetzer. He’s all about winning, going out on mivtzoim. He’s tremendously happy, and he learns Chassidus with enthusiasm. But he can’t stop himself from committing transgressions. He falls again and again. The Alter Rebbe says: Besides sadness, there is something else that can prevent a person from feeling love of Hashem. What is it? A spiritual illness. Just as there are physical illnesses, there are spiritual illnesses. This illness is called timtum halev. That’s its name. What does it do to a person? It prevents what he understands in his mind from being absorbed by his heart. The heart is sick. The heart, the emotions, can’t... It’s an emotional illness; he can’t feel love of Hashem. There’s some kind of illness there that prevents his understanding of Hashem’s greatness from entering his heart. What do we do? He explains over several chapters what to do about it. So that’s the second part we’re now beginning to learn: advice for dealing with sadness and advice for dealing with timtum halev. Let’s begin. Chapter 26. Chapter 26 gives the first two pieces of advice. “However, in a case like this, it is necessary to make known”—everyone needs to be told—“a great principle: Just as, in a physical contest, such as two people wrestling with each other to throw each other down, if one of them is sluggish and heavy, he will be easily defeated and fall, even if he is stronger than his opponent.” One is strong, a big bruiser; the other is light on his feet, a little shrimp. But the little one will win because he’s light on his feet. “So too, in the struggle with the yetzer, it is impossible to defeat it through the sluggishness and heaviness that come from sadness and a heart as unfeeling as stone, but only”—how can you defeat the yetzer? Only—“through the energy that comes from joy, and from an open and pure heart.” A heart purified “of every trace of worry and sadness in the world.” Only that way can we defeat the yetzer. We already know the Alter Rebbe: whenever a question comes up, he immediately answers it. He stops

10:16 Speaker 1 And he answers it right away. So here too, we have a question that the Alter Rebbe answers immediately: “And what of the verse, ‘In all sorrow there is profit’?” There is a verse in the Book of Proverbs: “In all sorrow there is profit.” What does the verse mean? What is King Solomon saying? That sorrow also has a positive side, not just a drawback; there is some benefit in it. What benefit could there be in sorrow? What did King Solomon mean? “This means that some benefit and advantage will come from it. On the contrary,” first of all, “this wording implies that sorrow in itself has no advantage, only that some other benefit will come from it afterward.” After all, what does it say? It doesn’t say sorrow is a good thing, that sorrow is an advantage, that sorrow is a benefit. It says “in all sorrow”—within the sorrow there is something beneficial, not the sorrow itself. Sorrow leads to a benefit. Sorrow itself is not the benefit. That is what Solomon is saying. What does it mean? What benefit? What advantage does sorrow lead to? “Namely, true joy in Hashem his G-d.” True joy in Hashem his G-d, which comes after genuine sorrow. There is sorrow that is not genuine. Truth—truth is only “the truth of Hashem endures forever.” Nothing else can be called truth. What is genuine sorrow? Sorrow connected to truth. Sorrow that is not connected to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, not connected to holiness, is not truth. It’s just—I don’t know what to call it. It isn’t truth; it’s falsehood. Genuine sorrow leads to genuine joy. “True joy in Hashem his G-d, which comes after genuine sorrow, at certain times, over his sins, in the bitterness of his soul.” When a person—why is he sad? He is sad because of sins he committed. He is sad because of transgressions he committed, and that causes his soul to feel bitter and his heart to be broken. “Through this, the spirit of impurity and the sitra achra are broken, as is the iron partition

13:28 Speaker 1 that separates him from his Father in Heaven.” This whole subject, which the Alter Rebbe presents briefly here, is explained at great length in the third part of Tanya, in Igeres Hateshuvah. He explains there that the soul of every Jew is literally a part of G-d Above. But how does the soul enter the body? It says that Hakadosh Boruch Hu “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu breathed the soul into man. Why does it say “breathed”? He gave it, placed it there, put it in, drew it down. What does “breathed” mean? Why use that word? The Alter Rebbe explains there that our Sages did not compare the soul’s entry into the body to blowing—like blowing air from your mouth—for no reason. Why? What is blowing? There are several points to this analogy. One of the things the Rebbe explains there in Igeres Hateshuvah—he explains several things there—is that when a person blows, even the slightest barrier stops the breath from reaching its destination. It doesn’t get through. The transgressions a person commits are an iron partition separating G-dliness from the person, from the person’s body. That is really what we learned earlier, in chapter 24: through every transgression, a person becomes separated from G-dliness. Now it is a little clearer what it means to be separated from G-dliness. The soul enters the body through a breath. When a transgression builds a partition, an iron partition, the soul cannot enter the body. It isn’t here; it simply does not penetrate the body. It remains above the body, surrounding it. It cannot reveal itself inside. So how do you bring the soul back into the body? You have to break that partition. How do you break it? What is the partition made of? It is made of the animal soul, which is the one committing the transgressions. That is the partition. It is called an iron partition. It isn’t iron; there is no iron there. It is compared to an iron partition. What

15:51 Speaker 1 or who is that partition? It is the animal soul and the body, which get in the way. Now the animal soul has gained the upper hand, and once it does, the soul cannot get inside. So what is the solution? To break it. How do you break that partition? With a broken heart. Through this, the spirit of impurity and the sitra achra are broken, as is the iron partition separating him from his Father in Heaven. When a person feels bitter over his sins—it pains him, it hurts him—he breaks himself down, he takes himself to task. Why am I like this and this and this? How could I have done such a thing? He breaks his animal soul, breaks the sitra achra, and then the soul can return and reveal itself within him. As the Zohar says about the verse, “A broken spirit, a broken heart.” How do you break the spirit of the sitra achra? The Zohar says: with a broken heart. A person breaks his heart. What is his heart? His heart is the sitra achra, the animal soul. He breaks his heart; he breaks the sitra achra. And then, as soon as he breaks that partition, the earlier part of the verse will be fulfilled in him. The verses earlier in that same psalm of Tehillim say: “Let me hear gladness and joy”; “Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and sustain me with a willing spirit,” and so on. So the moment a person breaks his animal soul, the sitra achra, and feels bitter over his sins, the spirit of impurity and the sitra achra are broken. And then he need do nothing more. The G-dly soul enters and reveals itself, and he becomes happy. And this is the simple reason for the practice instituted by the Arizal of reciting this psalm of Tehillim after Tikkun Chatzos, before learning. In our recent generations we do not follow this practice, but for many generations people did—even ordinary Jews would say Tikkun Chatzos. Today it seems very strange to us: going to sleep and then getting up at midnight. That is only when we go to sleep. By

18:34 Speaker 1 their reckoning, though, when there was no electricity, as soon as the sun set it was dark. Even if a person wanted to learn then—I don’t know if you have ever tried learning by candlelight. It is worth trying, just so that when we speak of the greatness of those who learned by candlelight all night, you will have experienced it once. Take a book and turn off the light. Try to learn by candlelight. And remember, their books were not nicely printed books like these. They were handwritten on—I don’t know what, parchment or something else. Learning at night by candlelight is an act of self-sacrifice. It is no simple thing. People simply prayed Minchah and Maariv when the sun set, ate, and went to sleep. And if someone went to sleep at six in the evening, then by twel—by midnight he had already slept six hours. He could get up. He didn’t need anyone to wake him; he had slept enough. If G-dliness mattered to him, he got up for Tikkun Chatzos. He had already had his night’s sleep. He couldn’t go to work yet; the sun would not rise until five or six in the morning. So what would he do from midnight until morning? First of all, he would say Tikkun Chatzos. Then he would sit down to learn, then go to daven, and then go to work. That was the routine of Jews throughout the generations until electricity was invented. All those sayings of our Sages, such as “A person acquires most of his wisdom only at night,” refer to that reality. During the day people worked; at night they learned. What did the Arizal introduce? The Arizal introduced the practice of also reciting this psalm of Tehillim when saying Tikkun Chatzos: “Let me hear gladness and joy”; “Sustain me with a willing spirit”; “A broken and crushed heart, O G-d, You will not despise.” The Arizal introduced the practice of reciting this psalm as well. Why? All those years they would say

20:45 Speaker 1 Tikkun Chatzos. For years, people would learn afterward. Yes, but since the whole point of Tikkun Chatzos is to break your heart over the general exile of the Shechinah, now break your heart over the personal exile of the Shechinah within you—over your sins, over your own situation. And after you break the sitra achra, your own animal soul, the light of the soul will shine within you, and now you can learn joyfully all night. That is the order. The aim is to learn with true joy in Hashem, the joy that comes after sadness. So if the sadness is genuine, it naturally leads to genuine joy. This joy has an advantage, like the advantage of light that comes specifically out of darkness. He brings a proof for this, as it says in the Zohar on the verse, “I saw that wisdom has an advantage over folly, like the advantage of light over darkness,” and so on. Look there; that is enough for one who understands. Do we really need proof for this? If the Alter Rebbe hadn’t brought proof, we wouldn’t have known that joy is better than sadness? We wouldn’t have imagined that wisdom is better than folly? What is this? What are you bringing me proof for? Listen, that’s how it is, and it’s written in the Zohar, and even King Shlomo said it. What wisdom is there here? What is hidden in this? Right? Why do I need proof that light is better than darkness? That wisdom is better than folly? The simple explanation is that when a person is in the light all the time, he doesn’t appreciate it. After he tries to learn one day by candlelight in the dark, suddenly he appreciates electricity. It takes on a different color; it looks different. The feeling is completely, completely different. The same is true here. King Shlomo says that just as the advantage, the quality of light, is felt only by someone who has been in darkness, so the quality of

23:13 Speaker 1 wisdom is felt only by someone who has been in folly. When the Divine soul shines within a person, it shines; it’s a pleasure. How does the saying in Chassidus go? “A constant pleasure is no pleasure.” How long can you enjoy the same thing? You get used to it; you can even get a little tired of it after a while. But a person who has been in darkness... When I was in yeshivah—and, well, I wasn’t in yeshivah; I didn’t study in yeshivah, but I would go into a yeshivah now and then during the period when I was becoming observant. So at one of the farbrengens there, the students... I’ll give you another example. Another example, also from the yeshivah. I came to the yeshivah. Here’s how it was: I was in the army at Ramat David, and where they would give us—the army today isn’t the army it was then. Back then they gave us a Shabbos off once every four weeks, and that was provided you fulfilled your duties. If not, you stayed on base for Shabbos, and then the next time was another four weeks away; you didn’t go out the following Shabbos. And once every two weeks, if you were a good, outstanding soldier, they might also give you an evening pass to go home after work at four in the afternoon and report back for roll call at seven in the morning. When could you daven? How long were you home? [unclear] getting back, buses, hitchhiking—it’s quite a story. In short, the situation was lousy. Now, while I was there in the army at Ramat David, there weren’t any religious guys around. I’m not even talking about food: for three years I lived on cans of sardines and bread that I saved from Shabbos for the whole week. I’m not even talking about the food. I couldn’t bear to be anywhere. I’d go in where the guys worked—what we did there doesn’t matter right now—and there was foul language all the time. You couldn’t listen to it. You go back to your room: girls and boys together, completely freely. More than once they asked me to lock up—to make a phone call from the room.

25:53 Speaker 1 The language, the way they talked, the coarseness—it was terrible. For someone who observes mitzvos, especially a newly observant baal teshuvah with no support around him, the emotional pressure is dreadful. It’s really hard to describe. When they finally give you a whole Shabbos off once a month, or you get out once every two weeks, and you can sit in a yeshivah for two hours with normal people and learn Torah—that is the advantage of light over darkness. That is the advantage of wisdom over folly. You don’t waste a second. And I remember coming to the yeshivah on Shabbos—this happened several Shabbosos. The students would get up late, you know, go to the mikveh, dawdle here, dawdle there. They’d sit together, supposedly learning with a chavrusa, with the Gemaras open, and chat in [unclear]. “Learning.” It drove me crazy. How? What? You’re in yeshivah! You have this opportunity; you can make use of the time. How can you act like this? Don’t you see? Don’t you feel where you are? It drove me crazy, really drove me crazy. How? How? They didn’t feel a thing. They didn’t understand me. They couldn’t understand. That is called the advantage of light over darkness. The Arizal says that each of us, when saying Tikkun Chatzos, or doing teshuvah, or saying Krias Shema before bed, should now feel bitter over his sins. He should think about the harm his sins have caused. That isn’t explained here; it’s explained in Igeres Hateshuvah, and the second part there goes into it at much greater length and detail, as it should. Chapter 29 as well—we’ll come to that shortly. After he has felt bitter in his soul, now he opens a Tehillim. Now he comes to daven. Now he comes to learn. Now he comes to do one mitzvah or another. He feels

28:33 Speaker 1 it. And Scripture states explicitly: “Because you did not serve Hashem your G-d with joy,” and so on. Everyone knows the Arizal’s interpretation of this verse: all the punishments written in our weekly parsha, the ninety-eight of them, the opposite of blessings—what are they all because of? Because “you did not serve Hashem your G-d with joy.” Is there a mitzvah to serve with joy? For that, all those punishments? There’s no shortage of them there—the parsha really lays it on thick. What happened? What did he do? Commit a forbidden sexual act? Kill someone? Steal? What? No: “Because you did not serve Hashem your G-d with joy.” That is the Arizal’s interpretation. Why? Because when a Jew is in a state of joy, he doesn’t sin. He overcomes the yetzer hara. So that is the general point. The first rule for succeeding in serving Hashem is to be joyful. But how can I be joyful? There are all sorts of things... I want to be joyful, but it’s a little hard. So the Alter Rebbe begins a series of suggestions. This is where it starts. In our chapter there are two initial suggestions for two initial situations, and then he continues. We’ll see that across these three chapters, the Alter Rebbe covers everything that can cause a person sadness. He covers every possible situation and shows and proves that there is no real reason to be sad. There is no such thing. We’ll see it inside. “Now, the suggested counsel for cleansing one’s heart of all sadness and any trace of worry” about what? “Worldly matters.” That’s the first thing. The first thing that makes people sad is that they lack something. They have no money, no health, no livelihood, no children—worldly matters. Things in the world trouble them; it hurts that they want more. He emphasizes “worldly matters.” The Alter Rebbe says that this includes even children, health, and sustenance. Not just a livelihood, but children and health too.

31:09 Speaker 1 He has no children, he has no health. These are worldly matters, things that belong to this world. He’s sad, things are hard for him, he’s ill, someone in the family is ill, a child has a condition that needs treatment. There’s no shortage of examples—we don’t need to go on with examples here, right? It’s hard. How can a person be happy in such a situation? As is known from the saying of our Sages, just as one blesses Hashem for the good, and so on, one blesses Him for the bad. Sorry. What does that mean? Does “just as one blesses for the bad, so one blesses for the good” mean that whenever something bad happens to him, he should say, “Blessed are You... Who has granted us life”? What does that mean? Clearly that’s not the intention. It doesn’t mean you say the same blessing. Rather, what? The Gemara explains: to accept it with joy. To accept the bad with joy. That he should receive the bad with the same joy as something visibly and obviously good. What does that mean? I have such suffering, such problems. Not only with livelihood, but with children and health. How? What? How can I? What does it mean to accept it with joy? Why should I be happy about it? What kind of joy can I find in such a thing? The Alter Rebbe explains: because this too is for the good. What does “for the good” mean? It’s just that this good is not revealed and visible to eyes of flesh, because it comes from alma d’iskasya, the hidden world, which is above alma d’isgalya, the revealed world. What are alma d’iskasya and alma d’isgalya? Alma d’isgalya corresponds to the vav and hei, the last two letters of Hashem’s name, and alma d’iskasya corresponds to the yud and hei. It says that Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world through four letters: yud, hei, vav, and hei. With the letters yud and hei He created the hidden worlds, the concealed worlds, the higher worlds; and with the letters vav and hei He created the lower worlds. This is explained at length in Shaar Hayichud Vehaemunah. We’re only mentioning the idea now. What does a hidden world mean? A hidden world

33:59 Speaker 1 is a spiritual world, a higher world, a world where G-dliness is revealed. Because our world is a world of concealment, a world of kelipos and sitra achra that prevent G-dliness from being revealed, that lofty revelation of G-dliness in the higher worlds cannot be revealed in this world, in the lower worlds. That’s why it’s called alma d’iskasya, the hidden world. But what is actually there? There’s a revelation of G-dliness so lofty that there’s no comparison at all with our world. And when the influence from that world, the hidden world, descends to me here, how will it be revealed? It’s such a lofty influence that it cannot be revealed within the garments of this world. So when it descends, what does it look like? To me it looks like suffering. To me it looks like something bad. To me it looks like a lack of children, health, or livelihood. But the truth is, why does a person have a lack of children, health, or livelihood? It’s an exceedingly lofty Divine influence from the higher worlds, from alma d’iskasya—

35:24 Speaker 2 Is it right for us to ask for a lack of those things? I mean, why does a person—why don’t we ask for that? There’s the matter of asking for mercy. We do ask that our children be healthy, that we have a good livelihood. So why do we nevertheless ask for our physical needs if you’re saying that a lack in physical matters is—

35:45 Speaker 1 You don’t have to ask for it, but if it’s given, you have to say thank you.

35:50 Speaker 2 You don’t have to ask for physical needs?

35:52 Speaker 1 No, asking for suffering—that really is a level for tzaddikim.

35:56 Speaker 2 They ask for suffering?

35:57 Speaker 1 Yes. There are quite a few verses like that in Tehillim. “Fortunate is the man whom You chastise, Y-ah.” There are others too, but that really is the level of tzaddikim. A person like us can’t genuinely ask for that, so it isn’t demanded of anyone. But when a person does have something like that, he can work on himself to rejoice in it—to rejoice, to be happy. Really! To feel joy. Not to say, “Well, what can I do? I understand that this suffering comes into the world for some purpose, so... all right, I’ll get through it quietly.” No, one needs to rejoice in it. There’s a story about Reb Zusha of Anipoli and the Maggid of Mezritch. You surely know it, or some of you—some of you certainly know the story. A Jew came to the Maggid... Reb Zusha of Anipoli was one of the Maggid’s students. He was a friend of the Alter Rebbe. The Maggid’s students had several groups, and he was among the Alter Rebbe’s friends. He was one of those who gave an approbation to Tanya, and he suffered a great deal; he was very ill. He was very ill and endured suffering. Once, a Jew came to the Maggid and asked him how it was possible to accept suffering with joy. So the Maggid told him, “Go stay with Reb Zusha, and there he’ll explain it to you.” He went to Reb Zusha and asked if he could stay in his home. “Yes, of course.” Reb Zusha didn’t have anything to give him to eat, but a Jew wanted to stay with him, so he welcomed him gladly. He welcomed him gladly. The visitor was there a day, two days, three, and he saw Reb Zusha full of joy and happiness. Yet you could see that he was ill and afflicted from head to toe, suffering all over. Finally, he asked him, “Do you know why I came to stay with you? The Maggid sent me

38:12 Speaker 1 to you so I could learn from you how to deal with suffering, how to be happy in the midst of suffering.” And he wanted to ask, “I can see that you really are suffering, and you really are joyful. How do you do it?” But he couldn’t finish the sentence. As soon as he began, Reb Zusha jumped in: “He sent you to me? To learn from me how to accept suffering? But I’ve never had any suffering.” He didn’t feel it as suffering. He truly didn’t feel it. Now, Reb Zusha really was a tzaddik. But yes, the Alter Rebbe demands of everyone that when there is suffering, a person must know how to rejoice in it. “A person must accept it with joy. And this is what is meant by the verse, ‘Fortunate is the man whom You chastise, Y-ah,’” and so on. And therefore our Sages said that of those who rejoice in suffering, the verse says, “And those who love Him are like the sun emerging in its strength.” Why? What’s the connection? After all, the way Hakadosh Boruch Hu conducts the world is measure for measure. You know that, right? Everyone knows. So what are they telling you? If you rejoice in suffering, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will reveal Himself to you like the sun emerging in its strength. What’s the connection between suffering and the sun emerging? He explains why this is measure for measure. The joy—joy in suffering—comes from loving closeness to Hashem more than all the life of this world. What does a person who rejoices in suffering show? He shows that this world isn’t what matters to him. “I know now that I’m close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu! Whether this is suffering or not, I’m close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu now!” So he’s happy. What is he happy about? He’s happy about closeness to Hashem, more than all the life of this world. As it is written, “For Your kindness is better than life.” I would rather receive Your kindness, that abundant kindness, even though it can be revealed to me only in the form of suffering. That is better for me than all

40:35 Speaker 1 of life. And closeness to Hashem is infinitely greater in alma d’iskasya, for there His strength is concealed, and He “dwells in the shelter of the Most High.” Therefore, because he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu—why is he happy amid suffering? Because he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu more than the life of this world—he merits “the sun emerging in its strength” in the future. The sun is a metaphor for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Just as the sun is now covered by a sheath and will be revealed in the future, so too Hakadosh Boruch Hu is now concealed and hidden in the higher world, and in the future He will be revealed. And for the person for whom, even now, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu is hidden and concealed, what matters most is G-dliness, closeness to Hashem—when that is revealed, then it will be... what’s the wording? “And those who love Him are like the sun emerging in its strength.” He will receive the Divine revelation, which is like the sun emerging from the sheath that conceals it in this world; in the future it will be revealed from its covering. That is, in the future alma d’iskasya will be revealed and will shine with a great and powerful light. For whom? For all those who take refuge in Him in this world. So someone who shows in this world that what matters most to him is G-dliness, that G-dliness be revealed—that light will shine for him. “And they shelter in its shade, the shade of chochmah, which is a form of shade and not visible light and good; and this is sufficient for the wise.” It’s a wonderful analogy. What is the shade of chochmah? Chochmah is light. Is chochmah shade? Chochmah is always light, right? What is the shade of chochmah? When there’s light, something blocks it and casts a shadow, right? What causes a shadow? Light causes a shadow. There’s a shadow because of the light. Yes? G-dliness is... it’s alma d’iskasya, the higher world. Why don’t I feel it now? Because I have a body, I have an animal soul that casts a shadow. But the fact that I have suffering, that I have a shadow—what does it come from? It comes from

42:58 Speaker 1 From the revelation—it comes from the light. So someone who is now in the shade of chochmah is happy with suffering. When the covering moves away and the sun is revealed in its full strength, he’ll receive it. So this is all very simple advice, and fairly well known too, I think: be happy. How can you be happy with suffering? The first thing that makes a person sad is suffering, physical suffering. How do you overcome that? What’s the way to overcome it? A person needs to contemplate it, train himself, think about it constantly, until it becomes fixed in his soul that suffering comes from Divine goodness, from closeness to G-d. So that’s the first thing that makes a person sad. The second: sadness over spiritual matters. Why is a person sad? He committed transgressions. He knows he’s not doing what he should. Here you can’t tell him, “Listen, be happy.” What do you mean, be happy? Should he be happy about the transgressions he committed? That advice doesn’t work here. Right? Yes? So we need different advice. When sadness comes from spiritual matters, a person needs to find ways within himself to get rid of it. That’s not quite as simple as sadness over worldly matters. So, first of all, it goes without saying that during avodah—when a person is serving Hashem, when he’s praying or learning Torah—he needs to serve Hashem with joy and a glad heart. That’s not the time. You want to be sad? You’ve committed transgressions? Fine, be sad, but not in the middle of davening. Davening is a time for joy, a time for Divine... Even someone who doesn’t spend his whole day engaged in Torah and prayer, but is involved in business and worldly affairs and spends his day out in the world—if sadness and worry over spiritual matters, over transgressions, fall upon him while he’s occupied with his business, it is known that this is a ploy of the yetzer hara to cause him to fall into desires afterward, G-d forbid. It doesn’t work that a person is busy now,

45:32 Speaker 1 he’s in the middle of his business, and suddenly some distress falls upon him about a transgression he remembers committing. Where did that come from? That doesn’t happen. A person is completely occupied right now; he lives in the world, feels very much part of it, and his livelihood matters to him. Suddenly he has thoughts—thoughts of teshuvah about transgressions. Where did that come from? What is that? What’s it doing here right now?

46:05 Speaker 3 But that’s good for some sort of spiritual insight too, isn’t it?

46:09 Speaker 1 But that’s exactly it. During avodas Hashem, prayer and Torah study, certainly not. He says that even when a person is engaged in business and worldly affairs, that isn’t the time.

46:20 Speaker 3 But you are talking here about people who aren’t religious, or people whose work all day really is manual labor or other work—it isn’t avodas Hashem.

46:30 Speaker 1 Yes, yes.

46:31 Speaker 3 Do you tell them to think about it from time to time?

46:32 Speaker 1 We’ll see—we’ll see in a moment when they should. If worry and sadness over spiritual matters fall upon someone while he’s occupied with his business, it is known that this is a ploy of the yetzer hara to cause him to fall into desires afterward. The yetzer hara sees that this person is doing too well at overcoming him. He understands that he won’t manage to make him fall during prayer or Torah study, so he comes to him in the middle of the day and suddenly reminds him of some transgression he committed—just to make him sad. If he’s sad, his spirits will be low, and it will be possible to draw him into some desire. Then he’ll be pulled further along. After that, we’ll see what to do with him.

47:24 Speaker 3 When he was—

47:26 Speaker 1 A person to whom this happens needs to know this. Simply know it. If, in the middle of the day, some thought of teshuvah suddenly comes to me out of nowhere, it comes from the yetzer hara. There’s nowhere else it could come from. As is known: otherwise, where would genuine sadness come from? Genuine sadness can come only from love of Hashem or awe of Him. When a person contemplates love of Hashem, contemplates Hashem’s greatness, contemplates awe of Hashem, then he suddenly realizes that he’s not where he should be—he’s distant, he’s separate, he’s committed transgressions—and he begins to feel sad. But someone who hasn’t contemplated this, whose G-dly soul isn’t illuminating him right now, who is immersed in the world—the G-dly soul won’t suddenly put thoughts of teshuvah into him. The G-dly soul’s concern is joy.

48:19 Speaker 3 Why couldn’t it come from the makif?

48:40 Speaker 1 I think—I’m not sure—I think that from the makif, only a passing thought can come. Just a thought that suddenly falls into his mind, but not sustained thinking.

48:52 Speaker 3 That’s only the fifty minutes.

48:54 Speaker 1 Yes, but to start thinking about it and dwelling on it—that can’t come from the makif.

49:02 Speaker 3 No, but we said that... How do we know it doesn’t come from the yetzer tov? Because he needs to be reminded of that inner point that he can reach. The beginning of it could only come from within me, surely only from Heaven. And when a person thinks about something, reflects on it, he’s thinking about it too.

49:20 Speaker 1 I don’t have a clear answer right now, so we need to think about it or see what’s written. What the Alter Rebbe says here is very clear. He states it as a fact, and perhaps we need to understand it and think about why it is so, but the Alter Rebbe says it quite plainly: in the middle of the day, that doesn’t happen. Genuine sadness can come only as a result of contemplation. “Now, whether sadness fell upon him during avodah, while studying Torah or praying, or whether it fell upon him when he was not engaged in avodah”—the two situations we discussed—“he should take to heart that now is not the time for genuine sadness, even for worry over serious transgressions, G-d forbid.” This isn’t the time. “Rather, for this”—do you genuinely want to do teshuvah? On the contrary, one should do teshuvah, but “one must set aside fixed times and a suitable opportunity, with a settled mind, to contemplate the greatness of Hashem against Whom he sinned, so that through this his heart will truly be broken, with genuine bitterness.” I think this also answers what you asked. A person may have a thought of teshuvah fall into his mind in the middle of the day. But if he starts dwelling on it, thinking about it, and doing teshuvah right now—sorry, this isn’t the time. For it to be genuine, for it to have an effect on me, I need a settled mind. I need to contemplate the greatness of Hashem against Whom I sinned, and right now I can’t contemplate Hashem’s greatness because I’m in the middle of work. So the thought can fall into his mind. But to start contemplating it, thinking about it and dwelling on it—that’s a suggestion from the yetzer hara. And this, seemingly, also answers your first question, about whether it could come from the makif. I’m thinking aloud here... If such a thought in the middle of business isn’t appropriate, because the right time to contemplate it is only when he has time and the presence of mind, then where does it come from?

51:41 Speaker 1 The G-dly soul wouldn’t put a thought into him that would cause him to fall.

51:49 Speaker 3 It’s from the makif; it isn’t internal.

51:52 Speaker 1 The makif doesn’t want to cause the person to fall either.

51:54 Speaker 3 But it’s less attuned to the terms of this world. No, it comes to him from a place where... I don’t know exactly what time. Just—

52:04 Speaker 1 No, I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s—I don’t think that’s right. The soul within the body is called the foot of the soul. A person’s foot isn’t separate from his head; it belongs to his body. The head feels what happens in the foot, and the foot does what the head tells it to do. True, one is on the level of a foot and the other on the level of a head, but it’s his foot. The soul in the body isn’t... There aren’t two souls, one outside and one inside. It’s the same essential soul. Just as the intellect in the head can’t enter the foot—you can’t think with your knees—so too the makif of the soul can’t be revealed within the body. But it isn’t another soul; it’s the same soul. It won’t put something into a person or do something that would cause him to fall prey to the yetzer hara. They don’t operate separately. It’s the same one. “Rather, for this one must set aside fixed times and a suitable opportunity, with a settled mind, to contemplate the greatness of Hashem against Whom he sinned, so that through this his heart will truly be broken”—so that the bitterness will be genuine. Not just, “Oh no, what a sin I committed. Baruch Hashem, now I’ll move on.” “As this time is explained elsewhere”—that discussion is about Tikkun Chatzos and the bedtime Shema. It’s also in Igeres Hateshuvah in Tanya, and we’ll see it again in chapter 29. “It is also explained there that immediately after his heart has been broken at those fixed times, he should remove the sadness from his heart entirely and have complete faith that Hashem has removed his sin and is abundant in forgiveness.” What’s the difference between—why is Hakadosh Boruch Hu called “abundant in forgiveness”? Because He forgives even great transgressions. Well, I too have had people do all kinds of things to me, make my life miserable, and I forgave them too. So I’m also abundant in—

54:23 Speaker 1 To forgive. But that’s not how it works. Why is only Hakadosh Boruch Hu called “abundant in forgiveness”? “Abundant” here doesn’t mean great; it means many, many times. If someone wrongs his friend once: “I’m sorry.” Fine, I forgive you. We’re friends; all is well. A second time? Come on, enough. A third, fourth, fifth time—I’m not forgiving you anymore. But Hakadosh Boruch Hu is abundant in forgiveness. To Him, there’s no difference between the first time and the thousandth. Three times a day we ask, “Forgive us for our sins.” A Jew asks three times a day—truly—for seventy years, or, “with strength, eighty years,” and “may his days be 120 years,” and up to the 180 years of Yitzchak our father, as the Rebbe once put it, and on to eternal life. Three times a day a Jew asks, “Forgive us,” and means it. We’re talking about a Jew who truly means it. Hakadosh Boruch Hu forgives. “But I asked two hours ago.” That makes no difference. Abundant in forgiveness—without limit. A Jew has to believe that if he truly asks... We don’t have some green light that switches on. Right? That would be wonderful. I’d know: I’m truly, truly, truly doing teshuvah—and suddenly I get some sign. Something lights up on me... Like in the Beis Hamikdash, there was the scarlet thread they would tie, the scarlet thread they would tie to—

55:51 Speaker 3 On Yom Kippur?

55:52 Speaker 1 Yes, on Yom Kippur. Between the horns there was... They would send the goat into the wilderness, and the thread that remained in the Beis Hamikdash would suddenly turn from red to white, right before their eyes. That was something. It could be wonderful if we had a sign like that, but we don’t. So how can I know? A person starts thinking, “Did I really ask forgiveness? And if I really did, did Hakadosh Boruch Hu accept it? Maybe I committed such a terrible sin that... Just give me a little sign so that...” Right? We always want to know. No. I have to believe that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is abundant in forgiveness. What does that mean? You asked; it was accepted. Hakadosh Boruch Hu promised in the Torah that if I ask forgiveness, I receive it. No qualifications. You asked; you received it. That has to be a strong belief, because I can feel that I committed a sin. It hurts me. I can’t feel that Hakadosh Boruch Hu forgave me. It has to be a strong belief. But this is what is asked of every Jew: immediately after his heart has been broken at those set times, “he should remove the sadness from his heart entirely and believe with perfect faith that Hashem has removed his sin and is abundant in forgiveness.” Even if this is the eightieth time I’ve asked forgiveness for the same sin. “And this is the true joy in Hashem that comes after sadness, as explained above.” So in chapter 26, first of all, he presented us with—

57:35 Speaker 4 But Rabbi, excuse me.

57:36 Speaker 1 Yes.

57:37 Speaker 4 Maybe you could put it this way—sorry—maybe this could sort of bring it together in terms of the challenge. If I’m not mistaken, Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev says that if they put the... the... yes, the...

57:54 Speaker 1 The whole world before your eyes? This world, as described in the books. Yes.

57:58 Speaker 4 Then it would be much easier, because...

58:01 Speaker 1 Right.

58:02 Speaker 4 When it’s right before your eyes, there’s no way you wouldn’t... And we’re human beings, not angels. So there’s no way we wouldn’t learn a lesson for next time.

58:14 Speaker 5 I mean, it’s all well and good, and it’s true, and I believe it and everything, but it’s impossible. It’s hard to demand something like that of us.

58:22 Speaker 4 I mean, that’s what’s being demanded of us.

58:24 Speaker 5 It’s impossible. How can you ask a Jew to say, “Okay, your physical situation is terrible, you’re having a hard time, you’re suffering, you’re in pain, but everything’s fine. Be happy, because Above it comes from a very, very high source.” You don’t feel what’s happening Above. You only feel what’s happening to you here. That’s what we—

58:40 Speaker 1 Right, right. That’s why we mustn’t—

58:42 Speaker 5 It means working on that side of things—working on your thinking all the time.

58:44 Speaker 1 Is that... Is that also what you were asking?

58:47 Speaker 4 Right.

58:47 Speaker 5 More or less.

58:48 Speaker 4 No, I was coming at it more from an inspired perspective.

58:52 Speaker 5 No, I was saying: okay, Hakadosh Boruch Hu can forgive us many times because He does it, even though it’s not something we can see, but...

58:59 Speaker 4 He made it so... He made it so... presumably...

59:02 Speaker 1 He can forgive us regardless. He doesn’t need help to forgive us.

59:07 Speaker 4 So He also makes things better for you.

59:09 Speaker 1 As for your question—your question is a good one. Really, that’s exactly why we mustn’t advise another Jew, “Be happy about your suffering.”

59:25 Speaker 4 So why does he say it?

59:27 Speaker 5 Yes, so why does he—

59:28 Speaker 1 He doesn’t say it to someone else. He says it to himself.

59:34 Speaker 4 Right.

59:34 Speaker 1 Only a person can say it to himself. Only.

59:41 Speaker 4 I think the Rabbi’s approach is that we should demand that things be good, and... you know.

59:46 Speaker 1 Certainly.

59:47 Speaker 4 That we should tell Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “I don’t accept the situation I’m in.”

59:50 Speaker 1 Certainly. Certainly. We don’t want to suffer. We want good that is visible and revealed.

1:00:00 Speaker 4 It’s impossible. I’ll be happy about ice cream because I want it. How can I be happy about suffering if I don’t want it? If I work on myself and truly contemplate it, then of course I’ll want suffering.

1:00:12 Speaker 1 A person needs to think, to contemplate. Tanya is a collection of guidance that the Alter Rebbe gave chassidim over decades. He arranged it and built it into a path of serving Hashem. Not every piece of guidance applies to everyone. Someone who is suffering needs to contemplate this so that he won’t be sad. The issue the Alter Rebbe is addressing here is not how to overcome suffering. That’s not the point. Our aim in these chapters is how to be joyful. Something is causing me the opposite of joy; that is what I need to think about. Another person isn’t suffering, but he’s sad over spiritual matters. He isn’t suffering, but sins he has committed are troubling him. Another person isn’t troubled by either of those things—not by sins, and, boruch Hashem, he has enough to live on, so that isn’t troubling him either. But as we’ll see in the coming chapters, other things can cause sadness. Right? The question here isn’t how to deal with suffering in general. I’m saying: if someone has it, how can he be joyful? How can he overcome it? He needs to know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is putting him to a test. What is the test of suffering? To see whether he’ll fall into sadness. Suffering is brought upon him to see whether he’ll fall into sadness. And if he does, he has been defeated. How does he fight it? By contemplating that it is meant for good.

1:01:59 Speaker 4 He wins in that moment.

1:02:03 Speaker 1 It’s a battle. A battle. The yetzer hara doesn’t give up easily. All right, so that was chapter 26: the first pieces of guidance, the simpler and more common ones. Later we’ll see the other chapters, with the more complicated and weightier matters. That’s how Tanya is structured.

1:02:25 Speaker 4 That wasn’t heavy for us? Okay. If that was... heavier? What about Likkutei Moharan—the guidance there? Yes. There are chapters of Tanya...

1:02:36 Speaker 1 Huh?

1:02:37 Speaker 4 You said there are really complicated chapters of...

1:02:40 Speaker 1 There are chapters that are hard to study, chapters that are hard to understand, and chapters that are hard to put into practice.

1:02:45 Speaker 4 There’s a chapter, I think chapter six, of... of...

1:02:49 Speaker 1 Blessed are You, Hashem, our G-d, King of the universe, through Whose word everything came into being.

1:02:52 Speaker 4 Yes, [unclear]. Shaar Hayichud Vehaemunah. There’s a whole chapter where Tanya asks you questions and brings in the light of the sun and the sun itself and all sorts of things. And then at the end, once you have all those questions, all those doubts, you say, “Great, there’s no answer.”

1:03:09 Speaker 1 No.

1:03:10 Speaker 4 Something like that. Wow, it was awful.

1:03:13 Speaker 1 You have to understand what it means there when it says there’s no answer.

1:03:15 Speaker 4 Yes, because then you know that we won’t know. So it’s... Rabbi Friedman—Rabbi Eli Friedman—always tells us, either he taught us this or he told us: there are places where it’s good to remain with a question. Tanya left us with a question because it’s good for us to remain with a question.

1:03:35 Speaker 1 No, no. No, I don’t accept that.

1:03:39 Speaker 4 That’s what the Rabbi said. You’re laughing, but you don’t know what you’re laughing about. You... you told us. What, do you know that once we were at a meeting six hundred times, I think?

1:03:52 Speaker 1 It could be... If I’m not mistaken, that analogy appears in two places in Shaar Hayichud Vehaemunah, chapter 3 and chapter 10. If I’m not mistaken, what you’re talking about is in chapter 10. It’s also discussed at length in Rabbi Yoel Kahn’s commentary, in the books that came out recently. It’s called Hamaor ShebaTorah. He explains the point, and when Rabbi Yoel Kahn explains something, you understand it.

1:04:34 Speaker 6 Right.

1:04:34 Speaker 1 It really is... unbelievable. And if you want a recorded class, Rabbi Yechezkel Sofer has a class on that chapter.

1:04:46 Speaker 6 Sorry, I didn’t catch the name. Or Torah?

1:04:48 Speaker 7 Maor HaTorah.

1:04:49 Speaker 1 The—the light of the Torah, published by Meir Takhar[?]. The book isn’t available right now. It’s sold out, out of print. I couldn’t get a copy either. It’s available on Otzar HaChochma. If you send me a WhatsApp message, I’ll send you the relevant pages.

1:05:13 Speaker 6 Thank you.