Likkutei Amarim Chapter 30 · 5781

00:03 Speaker 1 Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d, King of the universe, by Whose word everything came to be. This week I didn’t—this week I didn’t get around to dealing with the recordings. I had a week... so they stayed off to the side. For a year and a half now, we’ve been developing new software for checking Torah scrolls, tefillin and mezuzos. It’s based on artificial intelligence; the software learns. This is a new technology that has entered the world over the last six, seven, eight years. And the idea actually came from me. It took me about three years to find someone willing to invest money—three or four years. For a year and a half now we’ve been working on it, more and more intensively. What? You photograph it somehow, with a camera or a scanner or whatever, and put the image into the computer. Until now, all the existing programs would simply start scanning from the top of the page. The page is relatively white, and they would keep going until they found a spot that was a little darker.

02:21 Speaker 2 Also on the...

02:23 Speaker 1 What? No. Yes, of course. I’m talking about the software. The programs until now would go along, starting from a corner, until they found something black, right? Then they’d start looking at its shape. All right, its shape is like this. They’d build a mathematical function that defines its edges, and then start comparing what it looks like and what it doesn’t look like, whether it’s good or not. For every single letter, the checking programs had to perform two or three thousand checks. And it works slowly, has a lot of problems, and so on. The software we’re developing doesn’t look at one letter at a time. It looks at the page and, in a fraction of a second, knows exactly what’s written there. It breaks it down into letters and immediately knows whether there are missing letters, extra letters, letters touching each other, problems with the letters—all kinds—in less than a fraction of a second, with almost, almost one-hundred-percent accuracy. For every thousand letters, we have one or two errors, compared with the existing programs, which have about twenty percent errors.

03:36 Speaker 2 Interesting.

03:38 Speaker 1 Yes. So why am I telling you this? Because this week we entered a new stage of the project. I’m both the one who initiated it and the one constantly pushing it forward behind the scenes—bringing people in, talking to them and moving things along. So this week we entered a new stage. We recruited three new people, and I spent the whole week training them, which took up all my time. I didn’t manage to do anything else.

04:06 Speaker 2 Time for the classes.

04:07 Speaker 1 What?

04:07 Speaker 2 Time for the classes.

04:09 Speaker 1 Oh, yes, yes. You want time for everything. All right, that was a little joke. Today we’re starting chapter 30, chapter 30. In the previous chapter, the Alter Rebbe presented a situation each of us knows from personal experience, but he put it into a clear, orderly framework. Sometimes I learn Chassidus, I contemplate and I think, but I can’t say it excites me. I don’t feel a sudden love flaring up like fire, or a sense of attachment, as though my soul were pouring itself out like water. No, that doesn’t happen. I understand it; it’s interesting. But my heart isn’t stirred by the learning, and it certainly doesn’t stay with me once I close the book. The Alter Rebbe says: The reason is that for a person—for the beinoni we’re discussing, someone who is not a tzaddik, who has not transformed his heart—the person within me, the “I,” is the sitra achra. What is this “I”? It is the animal soul. What I want, what I think about, what I live for—that is the animal soul. Since, in my case, the animal soul is in control, what interests it? Matters of this world. Tell it there’s a World to Come, and it hears you and moves on; it doesn’t really move it. And it covers over the G-dly soul, which is in the right chamber of the heart, and doesn’t let it reveal itself. So it’s clear that to reveal the G-dly soul, to allow contemplation to have an effect and penetrate that shell, you have to strike it down, subdue it, break it, crush it. Then the fire of the G-dly soul can catch in the fragments of the animal soul’s shattered wood, and the animal soul itself will also become excited with love of Hashem. How do we do that? The Alter Rebbe explained that when a person contemplates this very thing—when he reflects on the fact that his essence is actually the sitra achra,

06:39 Speaker 1 the animal soul, and considers his thoughts, his desires and his dreams—when a person reflects on what he is immersed in, that itself will break him, break the spirit of the sitra achra. And once the spirit of his sitra achra is broken, once his spirit is broken within him, the G-dly soul will naturally be revealed and his contemplation will have an effect on it. That was chapter 29. In chapter 30, the Alter Rebbe says: That isn’t enough. To break down the animal soul, it isn’t enough for a person to contemplate his inner nature, to look at himself on his own terms. A person is close to himself, and he can fool himself: “True, I really am like that, but every so often I also have dreams about holy things, and... actually, I’m trying to remember—I’ve been fine for a whole week now; I haven’t committed any sin.” A person can forgive himself very easily. So to break the animal soul, to crush it, it isn’t enough to reflect on your own lowliness. You have to reflect on how you compare with someone else, with another person. That is chapter 30. Chapter 29 is about how a person becomes lowly in his own eyes. In chapter 30, he has to reflect on how he compares with someone else. He begins the chapter, chapter 30: “Furthermore, he should take to heart...” In addition to what was said in chapter 29, he should take something else to heart: “to fulfill the teaching of our Sages.” Good evening. That whole long introduction was to say that today we’re beginning the second stage of breaking down the sitra achra. Last week was the first stage, and this week we’re giving it a thorough scrubbing. Chapter 30: “Furthermore, he should take to heart the teaching of our Sages: ‘Be lowly of spirit before every person.’” That is a teaching of our Sages in Pirkei Avos. Now, the wording of our Sages is “be.” What does “be” mean? It means you should actually be that way. And the Alter Rebbe stresses that if our Sages said to be lowly of spirit, then you have to be genuinely lowly of spirit. What does that mean? What would it mean to be lowly of spirit without genuinely being so? There’s a difference between humility and lowliness. What is the difference? With humility, I know that I’m better than the other person. A person recognizes his own worth, but it’s clear to me that there’s a reason the other person is less than I am. It isn’t because I reached where I am through my own powers. I received a better education, I have a loftier soul, I’m in a more supportive environment, right? And so on. Think of Moshe Rabbeinu. The Torah says he was “more humble than any person on the face of the earth.” What did he have to be humble about? He was Moshe Rabbeinu, the only one who received the Torah directly from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself. What did he have to be humble about? Moshe Rabbeinu reasoned that if someone else had been given his abilities, that person would have accomplished much more. So humility doesn’t mean that I consider myself lower than the other person. No. I know that I’m greater than the other person, but I don’t attribute that to myself. That is humility. Being lowly means I feel that I’m less than the other person. Right? That’s something completely different. And our Sages said, “Be lowly of spirit before every person”—each and every person has to feel lowly before every other person. So if the other person is greater than I am in one respect or another, or is my equal but has something in which he surpasses me, I understand how I could see myself as less than him. But suppose I encounter someone—how shall I put it? I’m a Chassidic girl, and she isn’t so... Yes.

09:21 Speaker 1 They said, “Be lowly of spirit,” so you need to be genuinely lowly of spirit. What does that mean? How could someone be lowly of spirit but not genuinely so? There’s a difference between humility and lowliness. What is the difference? With humility, I know I’m better than the other person. I recognize my own worth, but it’s clear to me that there’s a reason the other person is less than I am. It’s not because I got to where I am through my own strength. I received a better education, I have a loftier soul, I’m in a more supportive environment, right? And so on. Like Moshe Rabbeinu—the Torah says he was “more humble than any person on the face of the earth.” Why should you be humble? You’re Moshe Rabbeinu! You’re the only one who received the Torah directly from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself. Why should you be humble? What are you humble about? Moshe Rabbeinu reckoned that if someone else had been given his abilities, that person would have achieved far more. So humility doesn’t mean I feel lower than the other person. No. I know I’m greater than the other person, but I don’t attribute that to myself. That’s what humility means. Lowliness means I feel that I’m less than the other person. Right? That’s something entirely different. And our Sages said, “Be lowly of spirit before every person”—each and every one of us needs to feel lowly before every other person. Now, if it’s someone who is greater than I am in this or that respect, or someone on my level who has something I don’t have, then I understand why I’m less than them. But if I come across someone—how should I put it? I’m a Chassidic girl, and she’s not so... Right.

11:38 Speaker 1 Why should I feel lowly before her? I can see it in all her behavior, in everything she says, in everything... And it’s not as though excuses can be found for it. She also grew up in a Chassidic home; she also received an education. Everything was fine. So why is she less? She’s less because she’s less. How can I feel lowly before someone who is less than I am? I understand humility, but how can I feel lowly? More than that, the Alter Rebbe stresses that one must be genuinely lowly: Even with someone who... there’s no chance in the world that there’s anything in which he’s better than I am, I still have to think about him and reason that he is better than I am—and not only that he’s better than I am, but that the reasoning must be genuinely true. That is what this chapter is about. And he stresses—

12:38 Speaker 3 You have to recognize your own qualities.

12:40 Speaker 1 What? You need to recognize your own strengths, but not when you’re talking about breaking down the animal soul.

12:47 Speaker 3 When you want to break down the animal soul, you start looking—

12:51 Speaker 1 When you want to strengthen the G-dly soul, you need to reflect on your own strengths; and when you want to break down the animal soul, you need to look at your own lowliness.

12:59 Speaker 3 But doesn’t that lead to depression?

13:01 Speaker 1 So we see this at the beginning of chapter 30, right in the first line. I told you, we have two difficult weeks, and then we begin, uh... “And be truly, genuinely humble before every person, even before the lowest of the low.” In Chassidus there’s an acronym, kashbak. I’ve seen “kashbak” several times—it means “the lowest of the low.” So even before someone who’s just an ordinary kashbak, I need to be humble. How can that be? The Alter Rebbe gives us three ways of reckoning it. First: “This follows the teaching of our Sages: Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place, for his place causes him to sin, since his livelihood requires him to go about the marketplace all day and sit on street corners.” He spends all day in places where he has no business being. He has no steady livelihood, and his eyes see every temptation. And our Sages said that the eye sees and the heart desires. Besides that, it isn’t only his surroundings that contribute to it; he’s also the sort of person whose evil inclination burns like a blazing baker’s oven. There are people like that—not everyone is the same. One person’s inclination draws him toward temptations more strongly, and another’s less so. So this person didn’t get the upbringing he should have had, he has those surroundings, and his livelihood is such that all day he sees people around him speaking crudely and committing transgressions. He has no one else to talk to; that’s his social circle. And on top of it all, his inclination burns like a baker’s oven. So what do you want from him? As it says in Hoshea, “It burns like a flaming fire,” speaking there about the evil inclination, and so on. This is unlike someone who goes to the marketplace only a little. You, after all, aren’t out on the street all day. Think about it. He spends most of the day at home. And even if he does go to the marketplace all day, it may be that by nature he isn’t so inflamed. It may be that his inclination—

15:17 Speaker 1 “I’m out and about all day too.” All right, fine, you are too, but your inclination isn’t his inclination. For the evil inclination is not the same in every person. One person’s inclination is weak and another’s is... as explained elsewhere. So that’s the first thing to consider, the starting point. When a person comes to compare himself with someone else, first of all, don’t assume you’re better than he is. Who says you’re better than he is? Because of the way his behavior looks to you? Look at his surroundings; look at his inclination compared with yours. You might discover that you’re no better than he is. So that’s the first thing. But that still won’t make me feel lower than him. It just takes me down a peg so I won’t think that, because of the way other people behave, they’re such-and-such and—no. Who says? Who says that—maybe the challenges he faces are harder than mine, and that’s why he stumbles a little more. Should I blame him for that? Who says I’m better? No. On the other hand, that person on the other side—the one who really does sit on street corners—could come to the Alter Rebbe with an argument, right? “Rebbe, what do you want from me? I sit on street corners. That’s my livelihood; those are the people I spend time with.” Huh? A railing-sitter. Sitting on the railings.

16:58 Speaker 4 On the street?

16:59 Speaker 1 Yes.

17:03 Speaker 4 Something like that.

17:04 Speaker 1 Yes, sitting on some railing at the corner of the street and talking. Chatting away all day. Playing backg—there used to be people who played backgammon. Yes, or smoking a hookah, I don’t know. This is someone who does absolutely nothing with himself all day long. So someone like that will come to the Alter Rebbe and say, “Listen, I have no talents. This is how I grew up, this is how I was raised, this is my reality, and I also have a burning evil inclination.” Well, then, just as he can reason that he can’t do more than that, I can reason that I can’t do more than that either. What do you want from me? I can’t do any more. Here, in the parenthetical passage at the top of page 50, the Alter Rebbe says: “In truth, even someone whose nature is very passionate and whose livelihood keeps him sitting on street corners all day”—even such a person ultimately has no excuse for sin. “He is called an utter rasha because the fear of G-d is not before his eyes. For he should have restrained himself and ruled over the spirit of desire in his heart out of fear of Hashem, Who sees all his deeds, as explained above in chapter 12: the mind by its nature rules over the heart.” That applies to everyone. It is always true that the mind rules over the heart. So yes, you have an evil inclination. Yes, your struggle is harder. All of that is true, but you too are a Jew; you too have a G-dly soul, and you too need to use your mind to rule over your heart. But to whom do we say that? We say it to that person. As for me, I need to look—when I look at someone like that, I need to look at him in a way that keeps me from thinking I’m better than he is. For “do not bring me to a test, nor to disgrace.” Who knows whether I—

18:48 Speaker 1 would withstand the challenges he faces? So that’s only the first perspective. The first reckoning says: Who says you’re better than the other person? You’re not better than he is. The Rebbe makes another reckoning—what we’ve said so far still doesn’t make me feel lower than the other person. In this further reckoning, it turns out that not only am I no better than the other person; I’m actually on the same level as he is. “Now, in truth, breaking an evil inclination that burns like a flaming fire out of fear of Hashem is a great and immense struggle, a real test. Therefore, each person, according to his place and his present level in the service of Hashem, must weigh and examine himself: Does he serve Hashem with a comparable degree of immense struggle and testing in the realm of ‘do good,’ just as that person struggles in the realm of ‘turn away from evil’?” He has a struggle; I can see his struggle perfectly well. I understand exactly why he struggles. He faces tests, he has his social circle and his inclination. Fine, so he has a struggle. Wait, wait, wait. On the side of holiness, on the side of “do good,” am I struggling with the same intensity that he is? If I don’t struggle against my inclination in the realm of “do good” with the same intensity that he struggles in “turn away from evil,” then his service is worth more than mine. True, I don’t stumble, but if we look at it—we said in chapter 14 that Hakadosh Boruch Hu isn’t looking for the result. For results, Hakadosh Boruch Hu has plenty of angels. If Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted only holiness without tests, He wouldn’t have created us. He created us because He wants the work involved in facing tests. So He gave one person a test in “turn away from evil,” and He gave me a test in “do good.” If I don’t make as much effort in my test as he makes in his, then I’m exactly like him.

21:13 Speaker 1 Just as he doesn’t meet his test, I don’t meet mine. True, his test is in “turn away from evil,” and mine is in “do good.” They’re not the same level.

21:25 Speaker 5 It’s the other direction.

21:27 Speaker 1 Yes. But if he doesn’t meet his test and I don’t meet mine, what’s the difference? In terms of the Divine will, I’m exactly like him. And the Alter Rebbe gives examples of what a test in “do good” means. A test in “turn away from evil” needs no explanation; everyone knows what that is. What is a test in “do good”? We’re on page 50, line twelve. Thirteen. “For example, in the service of prayer. Prayer must be with concentration, pouring out one’s soul before Hashem with all one’s strength, to the very limit of one’s soul.” When I daven, do I really push everything else aside, throw myself into davening, and pour out my soul before Hashem with all my strength, to the very limit of my soul? Not always. So why? Why should I think I’m meeting my test any better than the person who isn’t meeting his? He is required to “turn away from evil”; I am required to “do good.” If I don’t do my “do good” properly, how am I better than he is? “And to fight an immense battle against his body and the animal soul within him, which obstruct concentration, breaking them down and crushing them like dust before Shacharis and Maariv”—that’s chapter 29, the previous chapter—“every single day, and also during prayer, to exert himself with effort of soul and effort of body, as will be explained at length later.” When we reach chapter 42, with Hashem’s help. That’s not so far away anymore. Once, people would say “42” and we’d go, wow!

23:30 Speaker 5 Time flies. This Shabbos it’ll be a year since you gave the class—a year flies by.

23:33 Speaker 1 Yes. So there he speaks about exertion—but that is not the main subject of chapter 42. The subject of chapter 42 is the lower level of awe, kabbolas ol. But as part of kabbolas ol and that lower level of awe, he speaks about exertion of the soul and exertion of the body. Exertion of the body means making the body work, struggling with the body so it won’t interfere with my concentration. No, it doesn’t mean a person has to afflict himself or stop eating or anything like that. It means stopping thoughts and desires during davening, as we discussed in chapters 28, 27, and 29 as well. When all sorts of things disturb me during davening, I have to stop them. Just struggle, not let the thoughts run on. And exertion of the soul is the positive side: to attach myself to the words, to their meaning, to the intent of the davening. So do I pour out my soul to the point of exhaustion, exerting my soul and my body every single day? Then why are you so dismissive of the other person, even if you don’t say it out loud? I won’t disparage him openly. That wouldn’t be moral or polite. But in my heart I feel it, and among friends we sometimes make a remark at the expense of someone who isn’t quite our style, who doesn’t meet our expectations. But why? What makes you better than him? He isn’t doing his part, and you aren’t doing yours. You’re exactly the same. “And anyone who has not reached this level of waging such an immense struggle with his body has not yet reached anything comparable to the struggle against the evil inclination, which burns like a flaming fire, to subdue and break it out of fear of Hashem.” And just as

25:46 Speaker 1 there is this struggle to do good in davening, so there must be the same struggle to do good in bentching. Not only bentching—all blessings over food and drink and all blessings over mitzvos must be said with concentration. Now it’s time to bentch. We’ve already sat for two hours; we had a proper farbrengen. Maybe we even said a little l’chaim. We’re tired, and it’s late at night. Take the siddur, look inside, word by word. Don’t give up; think about the meaning. It’s very hard. It really is very hard. And sometimes it’s just an ordinary blessing in the middle of the day. All I want is a glass of water, a cup of coffee, whatever it is, and now I have to start thinking and concentrating? What am I, a tzaddik? A blessing said with concentration, quite literally. To give myself over completely to saying a blessing with concentration. And if I don’t... That’s what’s being asked of me. I don’t face the tests of turning away from evil that he faces. My tests are about doing good: saying a blessing with concentration and davening with concentration. Those are my tests. If I don’t make an effort there, if I don’t give myself over to it, then what makes me better than him? Yes, “and needless to say, performing mitzvos with the proper intention, for their own sake.” Certainly. And not only with davening, blessings, and mitzvos, but also with Torah study: “To study far more than he desires or wants to, according to his nature and habits, through an immense struggle with his body. For one who studies only a little more than his nature inclines him to has waged a small struggle, which bears no comparison to the struggle against the evil inclination that burns like fire—a person who does not overcome that inclination is called a complete rasha.” So if that person doesn’t overcome his inclination, I call him a complete rasha; but if I don’t overcome mine, what am I—a complete tzaddik? I’m exactly like him. “To be subdued and broken

27:52 Speaker 1 out of fear of Hashem, both in turning away from evil and in doing good, all because of the command of the holy, one and only King, blessed be He.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded us to turn away from evil, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded us to do good. There’s no difference. “And likewise with the other mitzvos, particularly those involving money, such as the work of giving tzedakah and the like.” Yes, the Rebbe emphasizes the work of giving tzedakah again and again. It’s written that a person is attached to his money. There’s also a saying: “A tzaddik until it comes to his pocket.” For the great majority of people, this is a difficult test. It’s a difficult test to reach into your wallet and give. Even if someone manages that, he’d prefer to give ten shekels once a day: “There, I gave tzedakah today. That’s it, done.” But to open your wallet again and give another shekel, and another shekel, and another half-shekel, and another ten agorot—that isn’t simple. It’s hard work. So if I’m not doing my work in turning away from... in doing good, why do I take pride in the fact that the other person doesn’t meet the standards of turning away from evil? It’s the same thing. The Rebbe goes even further: a person has to take stock and realize that it isn’t only in doing good, and it isn’t only that the struggle is the same. If I think about myself a little more, I’ll discover that I’m not doing my job properly even when it comes to turning away from evil. “Even with regard to turning away from evil, any thoughtful person can...” Remember, the Alter Rebbe is speaking about a beinoni. A beinoni is someone who—in chapters 28, 29, and 30, we’re already a beinoni. We’re already not committing aveiros. So what kind of turning away from evil is he talking about here?

30:00 Speaker 1 “Any thoughtful person can find within himself that he does not turn away from evil altogether, in a situation requiring an immense struggle like the one described above, or even a lesser struggle. For example, stopping in the middle of an enjoyable conversation or a story that reflects badly on another person.” I didn’t start telling the story. We were talking about perfectly acceptable things, and everything was fine. It’s just that suddenly, without my noticing, it drifted into something else. “Listen, my friend, stop right there. I don’t want to hear any more.” It’s simply uncomfortable to correct someone, and turning your back on him and walking away is certainly uncomfortable. So let him talk, and I won’t listen. But to stop him in the middle? “Even if the criticism is very slight, and even if it is true, and even if it is to clear himself”—if he doesn’t stop in the middle, then he isn’t turning away from evil. And the Alter Rebbe gives an astonishing example: “As is known from what Rabbi Shimon said to his father, Rabbeinu HaKadosh: ‘I did not write it; Yehudah the tailor wrote it.’ He said to him, ‘Keep away from lashon hara.’” See the Gemara there, at the beginning of chapter 10 of Bava Basra. There’s a story in the Gemara. The Gemara is discussing a get, the laws of gittin, in Bava Metzi... Bava Basra. It discusses all kinds of gittin: when one is valid, when it’s invalid, whether there are witnesses, whether there’s a date, whether there’s a place, how it was written—inside, outside, above, below, between the lines. A great many details. Among other things, there’s something called a get mekushar, a tied get. There’s a Mishnah about it and a long discussion in the Gemara. What is a get mekushar? A get was written, like anything else written in those days, on parchment. Now, parchment was expensive. Today parchment is almost an industrial product, but back then it was scarce and expensive, and they used every little piece.

32:15 Speaker 1 So when the scribe came to write, he didn’t have a piece of parchment large enough for the whole get. He needed perhaps ten or twenty centimeters, and all he had left were a few tiny strips. What did he do? He wrote part of a line or two of the get on each strip, and then sewed them together, tied them together. That’s called a get mekushar, and there are laws about how to tie it and how to fold it, with all sorts of details involved. That’s a get mekushar. What happened in the story? Rabbi Shimon brought a get from the scribe to his father, Rabbeinu HaKadosh, who was a judge. A get was being arranged that day. When he handed the get to Rebbi, Rebbi asked him, “Excuse me, where’s the date? You didn’t write a date?” There was no date. Without a date, the get is invalid. So Rabbi Shimon said to him, “Listen, Father, perhaps the date is inside. Maybe if you open the folds, you’ll find it there,” because it was folded and tied. He opened it, looked, and saw that it really was written inside. So he gave his son a reproachful look—that’s what the Gemara says. A look that made him shrivel up, and Rabbi Shimon felt very uncomfortable. So he said, “Father, I didn’t write it. Yehudah the tailor wrote it.” As if to say, why are you blaming me? It wasn’t me. “Keep away from lashon hara.” What lashon hara? He did write the date. It wasn’t that he failed to write it. He was telling the truth. He was telling the truth not because

34:17 Speaker 1 That he wanted to speak badly of the other person? He told the truth because he wanted to clear his own name. So what? So where does the problem even begin here? Rabbeinu Hakadosh tells him, “Stay away from lashon hara.” Stop right there. We’re dealing with a get now, with the holiest, most important matters. Sorry, there’s lashon hara here. I don’t want to hear it; stop everything.

34:41 Speaker 6 I remember something like that. Someone once told me about a case where, say, someone put down a cup and it got spilled. Then she asked, “Who did this?” and someone immediately shouted, “Not me!” So she said, “That’s lashon hara.” I mean, yes, all you said was “Not me,” but you’ve immediately cast suspicion on everyone else in the room.

35:01 Speaker 1 Well, okay.

35:07 Speaker 6 So you recognize the source.

35:11 Speaker 1 Apparently, yes, because there’s—well, you’ve already started on the continuation of the story there. The continuation is that there’s another story there about Rabbi Shimon and Rabbeinu Hakadosh. In the second story, Reb Shimon praises Yehuda the tailor—the same Yehuda the tailor. One story after another. He praises him, and as soon as he starts, Rebbe stops him: “Stay away from lashon hara.” So the commentators there ask—Rashi and the other commentators—in the first story, there was something derogatory. In the second, he praised him. How is that lashon hara? Where do you see it? What is this “stay away”—lashon hara about what? He praised him; he said something good about him. The answer is: true, but if I say something good about one person and that causes someone else to start talking about him... I know Reuven hates Shimon. I’ve known them both for years. I know they don’t get along. So if I now come to Reuven and say, “Listen, that Shimon—what a tzaddik! Look what he does!” it will immediately make Reuven say everything he has in his heart against him. Right? So don’t do that. Why is it lashon hara? I said good things about him. So maybe that’s the source. I don’t know. But—

36:48 Speaker 7 In general.

36:50 Speaker 1 But in the plain sense, no.

36:53 Speaker 7 Okay.

36:59 Speaker 1 And similarly, there are many other ways a person can find that he is not turning away from evil. It’s not only that he doesn’t do good perfectly, that he has a lot lacking in doing good. Even in turning away from evil, he isn’t perfect, although he is already a beinoni. And similarly, there are many things that are very common, especially the matter of “sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you.” Sanctifying yourself in what is permitted to you is something you encounter day to day, perhaps many times over the course of a day, even though it is a Torah obligation. So if the Torah says that you must—yes, it’s permitted to you, but you must sanctify yourself—and you don’t sanctify yourself, and it’s a Torah obligation, then you’ve neglected a mitzvah. So you aren’t even turning away from evil. You’ve neglected a positive Torah commandment. As it says, “You shall be holy,” and also, “Sanctify yourselves and be holy.” An actual positive commandment. And even according to the opinion that “sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you” is not a positive Torah commandment, but only a commandment of the Sages, still, the words of the Sages are more stringent than the words of the Torah. So even according to the view that it isn’t a Torah obligation, you’re still committing a transgression by not sanctifying yourself in what is permitted to you. But all these and similar things are among the sins a person tramples underfoot. They’ve also come to seem permissible to him because he transgressed and repeated it. That’s what our Sages said: once a person commits a transgression and repeats it, it becomes like something permissible to him. The first time, he felt a little uncomfortable, hesitated a bit. Then he saw that the sky didn’t fall. So the second time was easier. By the third time, he’s forgotten that he ever hesitated. That’s just how one behaves, as far as he’s concerned. So we need to understand. The first line of reasoning was that when I look at the other person, I’m not better. Who says I’m better than him? His test

39:13 Speaker 1 is harder than mine. The second line of reasoning said not only am I not better than him, I’m on the same level: just as he doesn’t withstand his tests, I don’t withstand mine. And now comes the third line of reasoning, the main one. But in truth, if he has studied Torah, holds fast to Hashem’s Torah and desires closeness to G-d, his sin is too great to bear, and his guilt is many times greater than that of someone who is the lowliest of the low. Why? Because he does not struggle to overcome his yetzer with a struggle comparable to that tremendous battle described above. His guilt is many times greater than that of the lowliest of the low, those who sit on street corners and are distant from Hashem and His Torah. Their guilt is not so great when they fail to subdue their yetzer, which burns like a blazing fire, out of fear of Hashem. They haven’t studied Tanya. They don’t know that they have to subdue their yetzer. Nobody ever told them that. When they fail to subdue their yetzer, burning like a blazing fire, out of fear of Hashem, Who understands and sees all their deeds, their guilt is not as great as that of someone who has drawn close to Hashem, His Torah and His service. And the Alter Rebbe says he isn’t coming up with this himself; it’s an explicit statement of our Sages, as they said about Acher. Acher is Elisha ben Avuyah. Yes, he knew My glory, and yet he went and rebelled and led others to rebel. So, um? That is why our Sages said of the unlearned that their deliberate sins are counted as inadvertent ones. So it comes out exactly the opposite. With the unlearned, although they commit transgressions and face very difficult tests, because of their circumstances, even when one actually commits a transgression, Hakadosh Boruch Hu considers it inadvertent. By contrast, for a Jew who has studied Torah and desires closeness to Hashem, it’s exactly the opposite. What’s the wording? I think he brings it here. Yes: an error in

41:50 Speaker 1 study is counted as deliberate sin. With the unlearned, deliberate sins are like inadvertent ones. With Torah scholars, an error in study is counted as deliberate, like an actual transgression. So according to this line of reasoning, it turns out that not only am I not better than an unlearned person, and not only am I on the same level as him—he’s better than I am. Yes, so with tzaddikim, it’s by a hair’s breadth, and with us, by a thread—I don’t know, the thickness of a finger—but He is more exacting with each person according to his level. So these two chapters, 29 and 30, were—chapter 29 began by saying that sometimes the animal soul prevents the G-dly soul from revealing itself, so you have to break it down. This is like the statement of the Zohar about wood, a log that fire won’t catch. When you splinter it, it catches fire, and then a person can come to love Hashem. And in breaking down the animal soul to remove the dullness of the heart, there are two general aspects: humbling oneself because of one’s poor spiritual state, which was chapter 29, and humbling oneself by considering oneself in relation to others, which is our chapter. Now that we’ve finished, from chapter 26 through our chapter, chapter 30, the Alter Rebbe has given a series of suggestions for how a person can always be joyful. First there were three chapters about how a person must always be joyful so he can overcome the yetzer. Then he said that if he still doesn’t succeed, he needs to break himself down, and there are two chapters about that. Having finished this series of suggestions on how not to fall into sadness and how to overcome the dullness of the heart, that still isn’t enough. Why not? Because all the suggestions until now have been about how not to fall. What was the overall theme from chapter 26 until now? You’re about

44:03 Speaker 1 to fall—here, take some support. You aren’t succeeding—here, think about this. It was a series of suggestions. When I feel I’m about to fail: here, do this, do that, do—an answer for every situation. But that’s only turning away from evil; it isn’t yet doing good. It’s only about how not to fall. We’re not looking for how not to fall. We’re looking for how to rise, how to be joyful. So for that, the Alter Rebbe now brings the next three chapters—31, 32, 33, 34, four chapters—with suggestions for being joyful, separate from how not to fall or how not to be sad: what one should contemplate in order to be joyful.