Podcast Transcripts · Chabad עבריתChabadpedia

Chassidus Shiurim – Rabbi Doron · Lesson 75 · 1:04:18

Likkutei Amarim Chapter 41 (Part 3) · 5785

Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.

00:00 Speaker 1 It said thirty-six.

00:02 Speaker 2 Before we begin, are you familiar with this book? Some of you probably are.

00:06 Speaker 4 What is Sefer HaArachim?

00:07 Speaker 2 Yes.

00:08 Speaker 1 This is a new edition, isn’t it?

00:09 Speaker 2 Huh?

00:10 Speaker 1 A new edition, isn’t it?

00:10 Speaker 4 A nice edition.

00:11 Speaker 2 No, it isn’t a new edition. This edition is about thirty years old.

00:14 Speaker 1 Is this what you did in Chabad?

00:17 Speaker 2 No, no, this edition is about thirty years old. It isn’t a new book.

00:22 Speaker 4 Is it one book or several?

00:23 Speaker 2 This is the book—this is the first volume in a series of ten. Sefer HaArachim is a book that the Rebbe named. The Rebbe also initiated its publication and pushed for it.

00:38 Speaker 4 What, its publication?

00:39 Speaker 2 The book’s. The Rebbe, the Rebbe initiated—

00:42 Speaker 1 Before it was published—that was thirty years ago. The Rebbe pushed for it?

00:47 Speaker 2 The Rebbe asked—he approached Rabbi Yoel Kahn and asked him to write an encyclopedia of Chassidus.

00:54 Speaker 1 Look, a mare has arrived.

00:58 Speaker 4 And what are all these books about? What’s in them?

01:08 Speaker 2 I don’t remember what year it was. The Rebbe approached Rabbi Yoel Kahn and asked him to write an encyclopedia of Chassidus. But since it’s a Jewish book, and “encyclopedia” isn’t a Jewish word, the Rebbe said to call it Sefer HaArachim—the entries of Chassidus. Like a dictionary, but an encyclopedia.

01:30 Speaker 4 So, all the entries.

01:31 Speaker 2 Each entry.

01:32 Speaker 4 Ten books.

01:32 Speaker 2 Each entry is treated at great length. Rabbi Yoel Kahn worked on this encyclopedia his whole life, from the time the Rebbe told him to. I don’t know—he worked on it for decades. It goes alphabetically: alef, alef-alef, alef-beis, right? And so on. By the end of his life, he had managed to get as far as alef-ches. In other words, he was still very far from finishing the letter alef. The material he completed through alef-ches fills ten volumes.

02:05 Speaker 4 And what?

02:06 Speaker 1 And how much do those ten cost?

02:08 Speaker 2 How much? Each book is sixty shekels.

02:11 Speaker 1 No, but it’s hard to read. To understand.

02:13 Speaker 4 It’s beyond my level.

02:15 Speaker 2 This is the Chassidus book for anyone who wants to understand concepts in Chassidus—what is love, what is awe, what is—

02:26 Speaker 1 Oh, everything we’ve learned.

02:28 Speaker 2 It’s the most authoritative, most comprehensive, most precise book, and there’s nothing else like it. I—

02:37 Speaker 1 Can you buy just one book?

02:38 Speaker 2 You can buy just one.

02:39 Speaker 1 Just one.

02:42 Speaker 2 I’m only bringing it up because a new volume just came out for his yahrzeit. His yahrzeit was a week or two ago, so they published another volume. He had managed to write a great deal that—

02:55 Speaker 1 Who was this rabbi again?

02:56 Speaker 2 Rabbi Yoel Kahn. Much of what he wrote remained on his computer, and after his passing, the people who had worked with him took what he had written and published another—apparently they’ll publish another volume or two later on. So I just wanted to show you the book, so you know it exists. I want to read just a few lines.

03:20 Speaker 1 Yes.

03:22 Speaker 2 Our chapter deals a little with love and awe. It mentioned natural love, so I want to read a few lines about natural love.

03:34 Speaker 1 Here, where it says “after love of Hashem and longing.”

03:36 Speaker 2 Yes, this whole book is about love of Hashem, and so is the second book. Every three or four lines introduce a new topic. It doesn’t repeat itself.

03:48 Speaker 1 To prepare the class. That’s why you use the book too.

03:51 Speaker 2 I use it to learn. Anyone who really wants to learn Chassidus should keep this book close at hand. Um...

04:06 Speaker 1 This is a little smaller than the smallest one.

04:10 Speaker 2 Yes.

04:15 Speaker 1 Before they publish the book, do they tell you, and all that?

04:18 Speaker 2 No.

04:18 Speaker 1 No, of course not. Who would tell him? What does that have to do with it? Eleven, so there are people who—apparently it’s his hobby, so they suggest—he organizes the material, the introductions and so on, and then...

04:29 Speaker 2 All right. Love of Hashem, hidden love. At the beginning he has these sections, the eight main sections. He presents the eight general topics within hidden love. Then he begins like this. An introduction to the subject: “Hidden in the heart of every Jew is a natural love for Hashem, and it has two general levels: a natural love that transcends conscious reason and intellect, and a natural love that has no reason at all.” Is that clear? A love that transcends conscious intellect, and a love that transcends intellect altogether.

05:15 Speaker 1 Explain sometime what love for the sake of Hashem means.

05:18 Speaker 2 “The love that transcends intellect altogether also has two levels: a positive impulse and a negative impulse. The positive impulse is that every Jew naturally wants to cleave to Hashem, and the negative impulse is that every Jew naturally does not want, and cannot bear, to be separated from Hashem.” That’s the introduction to hidden love. Then it begins. There are something like fifty or sixty pages where he goes into detail. It’s like a tree: he branches out into more and more detail, down to the smallest particulars. For anyone who wants to understand, this is the book.

05:58 Speaker 1 But is it written in understandable language? I mean, maybe—

06:00 Speaker 2 You saw it.

06:01 Speaker 1 I saw that you translated it, but I didn’t understand. It isn’t all that clear.

06:04 Speaker 2 No, but when you have the words in front of you, it isn’t... Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d, King of the universe, by Whose word everything came to be.

06:14 Speaker 1 Amen.

06:17 Speaker 2 And full disclosure: I’m only advertising it. I have no—um—I don’t get a percentage or anything...

06:22 Speaker 1 I have no problem with this Moshiach, fine, I have no problem.

06:28 Speaker 2 All right. Back to our subject: we’re up to chapter 41. We’ve said several times that here the Alter Rebbe begins to discuss serving Hashem: how a Jew awakens love and awe within himself and instills them so that his Torah study and his observance—his observance of mitzvos—are permeated with love and awe. He began the chapter and the explanation by saying that the beginning of the service, its essence and its root, is awe.

06:55 Speaker 1 It’s on page 58.

06:57 Speaker 2 We’re on page 58; I’m just going back over it a little. He said by way of introduction that the beginning of the service, its essence and its root, is awe. Now, when we say “service,” serving Hashem, what does that mean? We discussed this in the earlier chapters. Serving Hashem means love: a Jew awakens it within himself, contemplates matters that arouse love, and brings love into being. In other words, although serving Hashem itself is love of Hashem—awakening love and serving Hashem out of love—the beginning of the service, its essence and its root, is awe. And when we say that awe is the beginning, essence and root of the service, we don’t just mean that before there can be love, there first has to be awe. Rather, awe itself is the root of love. What does it mean that awe is the root of love? Just as a tree draws its life from its roots, love draws its vitality from awe.

08:12 Speaker 1 But without awe, there can’t—

08:16 Speaker 2 There can be love without awe, but love without awe is dead love, love without vitality. We won’t go over the whole explanation of why and how right now. That’s just the point. What he did begin to explain is how a person awakens awe within himself. What does the beginning of awe mean? There is lower awe and there is higher awe. What is required of everyone is only lower awe. What is lower awe? Generally speaking, it means bringing yourself to feel that you are standing before the King. A person feels all the time that he is standing before the King. Simply bringing yourself to that feeling. That’s the ABC of it, and he said that this itself has several levels. First, a person needs to contemplate that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the King, and that all the worlds live from His kingship. Just knowing that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives life to all the worlds already brings about awe. Beyond that, what does “king” mean? A king is a king, but he doesn’t reign over everything. In the king’s country, besides people, there are also animals, trees, stones and all sorts of rivers. I don’t know what—all sorts of things. The king doesn’t reign over everything in the country. The king reigns over the people. Now, Hakadosh Boruch Hu created a great many things in this world and in the higher worlds too. Over whom does Hakadosh Boruch Hu reign? Over the Jewish people. The Jewish people matter to Him. That already brings a person to much greater awe. It isn’t only that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives life to all the worlds, all those great and wondrous worlds and the angels. And when a person begins to picture what a world is, what it contains—that’s nothing at all. Just as a king relates to trees and stones, so Hakadosh Boruch Hu relates to all the worlds. Who are the people in the King’s country?

10:27 Speaker 2 Only Jews. That’s already something entirely different. Then he says that the King singles out His kingship not only over the Jewish people as a whole, but over him in particular. What does “over him in particular” mean? A person might say to himself, “All right, I’m Jewish, so the King, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, reigns over the Jews—and that includes me. He reigns over me too.” No. Hakadosh Boruch Hu doesn’t reign over all the Jews. He reigns only over you—over him in particular, only over you. When we speak about a whole and its individual parts, there are two ways to look at it. One way is to say: the whole contains only what is in its parts. What is the whole made of? One individual, and another, and another. Together they make a whole. Right? The whole contains only what is in its parts. But the Alter Rebbe says that’s not how we should look at it. It isn’t that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is King and singles out His kingship over the Jewish people, while you are one of the individuals who make up that whole. He singles out His kingship only over you. How can that be? There’s a second person, and a third, and a fourth. He singles out His kingship only over me, and only over him, and only over him, and only... So it isn’t “only.” Right? The Alter Rebbe says: leave that problem to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He singles out His kingship only over—only over... Every Jew matters to Him individually, not as part of the whole. Then a person has to contemplate something even more: Hakadosh Boruch Hu created all the worlds, and even all the Jews in the world, for my sake.

12:20 Speaker 1 The world was created.

12:22 Speaker 2 That’s already... Then there’s something even beyond that. There’s also a kind of awe in which a person doesn’t look only at why Hakadosh Boruch Hu created everything, but at the fact that I accept His kingship. That’s from my side. Then he says something further still. A person can accept the King’s sovereignty: whatever the King says, he does. He accepts His kingship willingly and joyfully, and does everything—but there’s a big difference between being in the King’s country, two hundred kilometers away from Him, and being in the King’s palace right now. Hakadosh Boruch Hu doesn’t just single out His kingship over a person. A person must see it as though Hashem is standing over him right now, examining his heart and innermost thoughts to see whether he serves Him properly. What does “properly” mean? Whether what you’re doing right now is worth the creation of all the worlds and the entire Jewish people throughout all the generations. That already brings a person to even greater awe. Then he says something further still. Hakadosh Boruch Hu didn’t just create you in a general sense; He created you to keep mitzvos. Let’s see how you perform this mitzvah. Not what’s going through your head in your spare time. You’re doing a mitzvah—are you thinking about Me right now, or about all sorts of other things? That’s another level of awe. And so the Alter Rebbe continues: a person must contemplate Hashem’s kingship deeply, attentively, and in detail—how directly it concerns him as an individual—until awe comes over him. This is called yirah tata’ah, lower awe. What is higher awe? He’ll explain that later. Then he says that this is called awe, and without it there is no service of Hashem. He says it’s like an ox: if you don’t train it properly while

14:34 Speaker 2 it’s still young, if you don’t put some kind of yoke on it—

14:39 Speaker 1 afterward.

14:40 Speaker 2 If you don’t put a yoke on it when it’s young—that wooden frame—then later, when the ox is grown, try putting that yoke on it. It’ll shake it right off, right? Fine, there’s another place for this in the Mishnah; leave that aside for now. After he says all this, someone says, “All right, I contemplated it at length, and... no awe arose in me. What should I do? I tried, but I have a mind—I don’t know—a heart of stone, and no awe arose.” The Alter Rebbe says: that’s all right. Even if a person contemplates and no awe arises in him, he has nevertheless served Hashem. And not only has he served Him; he has exerted himself, exerted himself in pursuit of awe. Awe in the heart and the exertion of serving Hashem are two separate mitzvos. So he doesn’t have the part of awe, the feeling in his heart. What can he do? That isn’t up to him. But the part that is up to him—the work—he has done. Besides, at least while a person is contemplating, he won’t commit a transgression. Right now he’s thinking about Hakadosh Boruch Hu and how He reigns over him. Right? Right now he’s holding awe in his mind; right now he won’t commit a transgression. All of that was at the beginning of the chapter. After all that, he says: although awe is the beginning, the essence, and the root of serving Hashem, and if a person serves Hashem only out of love, he isn’t serving Hashem at all. Remember how we explained that? If a person has only love of Hashem, he isn’t serving Hakadosh Boruch Hu at all. Right?

16:33 Speaker 5 We said that.

16:34 Speaker 2 Huh?

16:35 Speaker 5 We said that.

16:36 Speaker 2 We learned that. Behind every love, the motive is what I feel—whether it feels good. If I feel good, then the foundation is me. And if it’s me, I’m subtly serving myself, not Him. Nevertheless, although awe is the foundation of serving Hashem, the service of Hashem itself is love. If a person has only awe of Hashem, how will he sanctify the world? How will he make the world a dwelling place for Hashem in the lower realms? How will he do the work of birurim that we discussed? Clearly, the main service is love, but the love itself must be permeated with awe. What sort of love of Hashem is required? Love of Hashem should be like a son who strives for his father and mother more than... Sorry. Love of Hashem means that a person fulfills the mitzvos because he wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is connected to lishmah. We spoke about it in the previous chapters. What does lishmah mean? A person is performing a mitzvah now lishmah—for its own sake. For the sake of what? What does lishmah mean? What does he want to attain? Every love has something it seeks—every love has an object. What does he love? Right? What does it mean to love? What is he drawn toward? What does he want to attain? Every love has something it seeks. So when a Jew loves Hashem lishmah, what does lishmah mean? What does that love seek? What does he want to attain?

18:34 Speaker 5 To get close to Hashem, no?

18:37 Speaker 2 To cleave to Hashem. Yes. Love in the plain sense. Love of Hashem in the plain sense: that’s what he wants. Now he’s performing a mitzvah. Why? To get close to Hashem. That’s what it means to perform a mitzvah lishmah. If a person performs a mitzvah for all sorts of other reasons—even the loftiest reasons imaginable. What examples did we give? So that he’ll have merits, so that he’ll have children, so that he’ll have Gan Eden, so that he’ll have light, so that he’ll have—I don’t know what—health, a livelihood for his friends or his children. If a person performs a mitzvah for something other than getting close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, it isn’t lishmah. He’s performing the mitzvah for some purpose, for something personal to him.

19:21 Speaker 5 To gain something.

19:22 Speaker 2 To gain something. It isn’t for Him. Although, generally speaking, true love of Hashem, love lishmah, means that a person wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the Alter Rebbe says there is a higher level of love. What is that higher level? The level of Moshe Rabbeinu, peace be upon him. Moshe Rabbeinu, peace be upon him, loved Hakadosh Boruch Hu so much that he served Him not in order to cleave to Him, but in order that Hashem’s will be fulfilled. He loved Hakadosh Boruch Hu so much that what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted mattered more to him than what he himself wanted. “I don’t want anything; I only want what You want to happen.” Right? Well, that sort of love is something extraordinary. Not everyone merits it, only tzaddikim. The Alter Rebbe says: although it is something very extraordinary and belongs only to tzaddikim, a measure of it does belong to everyone—to you, too. How? Why? Where does it come from? Do you hear the question? Well, where does it come from?

20:37 Speaker 6 Because we have a part of G-d above.

20:38 Speaker 2 Because everyone has an actual part of G-d above within their soul. Yes, that part of G-d—that is what it wants. So for me it isn’t so revealed, but because I have it, when I think about it, something of it is genuinely there. So we have to make an effort with that too. After that there was another long passage where the Alter Rebbe said that... there’s something even higher: that a Jew should keep the mitzvos not only so that Hashem’s will be fulfilled, but in order to—unite Hakadosh Boruch Hu and His Shechinah, so that Hashem’s light will dwell in the higher worlds. In other words, even that—even something of that—is relevant to everyone. Why? For the same reason. You have a soul; your soul senses Hashem’s will, and it truly wants to do it. So something of that is relevant to you too. Yes. And now we come to our passage. Let’s start two lines up. Ah, “But the union of his soul”—after the period, do you see it in the middle of the line? After all the higher levels of love we discussed, we come back to the level we spoke about at the beginning, the simple level: “The union of his soul,” his own soul, “and its being absorbed into the light of Hashem, to become one with it—this is what every Jew truly and completely desires, with all his heart and all his soul, out of the natural love hidden in the heart of every Jew: to cleave to Hashem, and not to be separated and cut off, G-d forbid, from His unity and oneness in any way.” So... loving Hashem in a way—not in the way of a son trying to do his father’s will, but in a way that... We’re speaking simply; we’re speaking to ourselves. What does “to ourselves” mean? That every single Jew can keep the mitzvos and learn Torah with the genuine intention that his true, inner desire is: I’m keeping this mitzvah now in order to cleave

22:52 Speaker 2 to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That’s relevant to everyone. “Hey, I don’t feel that, and I don’t feel—I don’t even feel that it applies to me.” You have a hidden love, and you can reveal that hidden love. It may not become revealed in your heart, but it’s very easy to think about it. Maybe I should make the distinction clearer. To think that I’m keeping this mitzvah now so that the middos of Atzilus will unite with Malchus—well, I can say it, repeat the words, but it doesn’t stick. Right? But to intend, “I want to keep this mitzvah in order to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu”—that does stick. Right? It’s simple. It’s relevant to everyone. And to what extent? “Even to the point of actual self-sacrifice.” If you remember, in chapter 19... the Alter Rebbe said that every Jew has—that’s where he began discussing natural love, hidden love, great love. What does this love do? If a Jew is tested in his faith, he is prepared to die to sanctify Hashem’s name. Yes, that’s mesirus nefesh. Why? After all, if you just bow your head for one moment now, afterward you’ll be able to go on keeping mitzvos for many good years. What are you—what’s this foolish stubbornness? It’s that he can’t do otherwise. He can’t. It isn’t a matter of intellect. He himself doesn’t understand why he’s doing it. It isn’t intellect; it’s beyond reason and understanding. He is bound to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and he cannot be separated. Yes. The essence of the hidden love is, as we just saw in the text, that he cannot be separated. As long as it isn’t revealed in him, he can become separated. But when it is revealed, he can’t. Usually, when does that happen naturally? Normally,

25:09 Speaker 2 a person doesn’t feel this love—that he cannot be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu under any circumstances. A person doesn’t live with that feeling. Normally, it really awakens only when he is put to the test. G-d forbid, and may no one face such a test. Right? But there the Alter Rebbe explains that a person doesn’t need to face a test to reveal it. That’s the Alter Rebbe’s innovation. What does it mean that you don’t need to face a test? Do you remember what he explains there? It’s eight long chapters, from chapter 18 through chapter 25. It’s a lengthy explanation. The central point he explains throughout those eight chapters is very short—very short, and very simple to understand too. If I know I have mesirus nefesh, that I have a G-dly soul, right? Now something sinful comes my way. We’re having a pleasant conversation, and in that pleasant conversation various accusations and a bit of lashon hara start creeping in. And I know it’s lashon hara. Right? We’re talking about someone who does know it’s forbidden to speak that way. Right? And I start to feel torn. On the one hand, I’m terribly drawn to listen, even to give my own side of... On the other hand, I know it’s forbidden. Right? So if I start that battle—yes, no, yes, no—I might end up falling. Right? Maybe I’ll manage to overcome it, but maybe I won’t. Right? The Alter Rebbe says something simple: If, at that moment of indecision, I remind myself that I have a G-dly soul, and that if I were put up against the wall right now, I’d be prepared to die for it—well, would I commit a sin over a thing like this? Just remembering that I have such a capacity is enough to keep me from all

27:20 Speaker 2 transgressions. That’s the point. Simple. And everyone understands that it’s true. Right? So the essence of the hidden love is that a Jew is ready and able—not just ready, but able—and actually gives up his own will for every detail of Torah and mitzvos throughout the day, quite literally, without feeling that he has love for Hashem. It’s enough that he knows he has it. That’s enough. Yes, this is called... So it’s true that the hidden love doesn’t become revealed in his heart, but it is revealed in his mind, and that’s enough. Yes. In his mind, you might say? No, there are several levels to this. So the essence of the hidden love is mesirus nefesh. What did he say at the beginning? To cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu—that’s relevant to everyone. We agreed on that, right? What does that cleaving mean? It’s mesirus nefesh. We said that earlier, right? How do we put that into practice now? Engaging in Torah, mitzvos and davening is also a matter of actual mesirus nefesh. When a person learns Torah now, why is he learning Torah? Does it give him something, some livelihood, or...

28:49 Speaker 7 He connects to holiness.

28:50 Speaker 2 Huh?

28:50 Speaker 7 He connects to holiness.

28:53 Speaker 2 In this world it gives him nothing besides a connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Besides doing Hashem’s will, it gives him nothing. A person keeps a mitzvah now. What does it give him in this world? Nothing. It gives him a connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Right? So in general, what is Torah and mitzvos all about? It’s all about a person giving up his nefesh. What is nefesh? How do you say nefesh in Hebrew?

29:29 Speaker 7 Life, sort of.

29:30 Speaker 2 Nefesh does also give life to the body. But the nefesh that gives life to the body—that’s more in relation to the physical body.

29:38 Speaker 7 Soul.

29:39 Speaker 2 Uh-huh.

29:40 Speaker 7 Soul.

29:41 Speaker 2 Nefesh means soul; that’s another name for it. Nefesh means will. Will. What do I want? Who is this nefesh? Who am I? What is my nefesh? Who am I? What do I want? That’s me. Right? If I want something, I’ll do this; if I want something else, I’ll go study something else. A person’s essence, his nefesh, is his will. Right? What does it mean to give up your nefesh? To surrender your will. Not to do what I want, but to do what He wants.

30:17 Speaker 7 Is there a definition of nefesh?

30:18 Speaker 2 What?

30:19 Speaker 7 In the entries.

30:20 Speaker 2 It’ll be a while before you get to the letter nun.

30:22 Speaker 7 How did we do alef? What, alef is just one entry, sort of? Or what?

30:28 Speaker 2 No, the entries under alef. All the entries here go up to alef-ches. Alef-ches comes at the end, I think. But there’s material inside too; you can find quite a lot about nefesh in there.

30:40 Speaker 7 Not a definition. I don’t know how to put it.

30:43 Speaker 2 But what’s there also includes many things that should supposedly appear under entries much farther on. What would he have written there? I’m sure he would have found more to write, but... Nefesh means will; mesirus nefesh means surrendering one’s will. A person doesn’t do—so what does it mean when a person learns Torah and keeps mitzvos? He doesn’t do what he wants; he does what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants. So the whole matter of Torah and mitzvos is mesirus nefesh. He isn’t going off to die now. Right? But he surrenders his nefesh, his will, to Hashem. Right?

31:16 Speaker 7 Although with various—there are various mitzvos that have various benefits. Say I learn Torah, then I become wiser; it helps me understand life.

31:24 Speaker 2 Indeed. That’s exactly what we’re talking about. If a person keeps the mitzvos in order to enjoy them, then it isn’t lishmah.

31:31 Speaker 7 Yes. No, but I—but I’m surrendering my will in doing it, and in the end I also benefit.

31:36 Speaker 2 You can observe the entire Torah and all the mitzvos even when it’s not for their own sake, but that’s not what we’re talking about. You can even use the Torah as a tool to make a living. There are people who support themselves by going to study in kollel. That exists. So if someone goes to study in kollel because his whole aim is to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, fine. But if he goes simply because it’s an easier profession than going to, I don’t know, do something else, then in that respect he’s no different from someone in any other profession. Or he is different, because ultimately the soul has taken hold of the body even without his intending it. But as far as the person himself is concerned—what he gives himself over to, what he gives up his own will for—what happens after 120 years? After 120 years, where is the soul? What does the soul do in Gan Eden? It studies Torah. Yes. So what’s the difference between giving himself over now and studying only Torah, and studying only Torah after 120 years? It’s the same Torah. And if he does it for its own sake, he cleaves to Hashem just the same. So what’s the difference? Here’s what he says: “This too is actual mesiras nefesh, just as when the soul leaves the body at the completion of seventy years. It does not think about the body’s needs; rather, its thought is united with and clothed in the letters of Torah and prayer, which are the word and thought of Hashem, and they become truly one. This is the entire occupation of souls in Gan Eden, as stated in the Gemara and the Zohar.” So when a person studies Torah in this world, he cleaves to Hakadosh Boruch Hu exactly as he does in Gan Eden. What, then, is the difference? There they delight in their perception of, and inclusion within, the light of Hashem, while here they don’t experience that delight. There they feel it, and here they don’t. But when a Jew gives himself over and studies Torah, he cleaves to G-dliness as he does in Gan Eden. In actual fact. “And this is why our Sages instituted—

33:54 Speaker 2 “They instituted, at the beginning of the morning blessings before prayer, ‘My G-d, the soul... which You have given me, You created it, You breathed it into me,’ yes, and so on, ‘and You will one day take it from me.’” What does “You will one day take it from me” have to do with anything there? It’s morning; he’s just gotten up, and he says to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “You’re going to take my soul from me someday.” What does that have to do with now? Yes. “That is to say: Since You breathed it into me and You will one day take it from me, I now give it over and return it to You, to unite it with Your oneness, as it is written, ‘To You, Hashem, I lift up my soul.’ This is through connecting my thought to Your thought, my speech to Your speech, in the letters of Torah and prayer, and especially by addressing Hashem directly, as in ‘Blessed are You,’ and the like. And behold...” We’ll continue, look at this and go into detail. So we already know that the core of serving Hashem is the service of awe. Everything rests on that. And the service of love must be permeated with awe, because love without awe is not service, and awe without love does not sanctify the world. They have to be together; love itself has to be permeated with awe. And what does love mean? To love Hashem, to observe the mitzvos for their own sake solely in order to cleave to Him. That is something everyone can do. There is no difference in a Jew’s cleaving to Hakadosh Boruch Hu whether he is in this world or in Gan Eden; it is the same cleaving. The only difference is that there they feel it, and here they don’t. When should you contemplate this? Think about these things? Here: “With this preparation of giving over his soul to Hashem”—meaning that I must give over my soul to Hakadosh Boruch Hu through Torah and mitzvos—“with this preparation he should begin the morning blessings, ‘Blessed are You,’ and so on.” Every morning, before saying the morning blessings, stop and think: Hakadosh Boruch Hu, King of the world, extends His kingship over the whole world, over the Jewish people, over me

36:07 Speaker 2 in particular. I accept His kingship. He is standing over me now, looking at me and examining my heart and innermost thoughts to see whether I serve Him properly. What does “properly” mean? Whether I’m doing it for Him and not for someone else.

36:17 Speaker 8 Say all of that?

36:18 Speaker 2 What?

36:19 Speaker 8 After the morning blessings?

36:20 Speaker 2 No. It’s preparation before the morning blessings.

36:22 Speaker 8 Before?

36:23 Speaker 2 Not to say it aloud. Not now. Once it’s firmly in your mind, it’s just a thought. It doesn’t have to take time. At first, until you get used to it, you really do need to contemplate it. But afterward, you just bring the idea to mind. And it’s not enough to do this only in the morning before the morning blessings and have it carry through the day in a general way. That’s not enough. Rather, “with this preparation he should begin studying a regular lesson immediately after prayer.” He should think about it again and study a regular lesson. And likewise, in the middle of the day, before he begins to study, he must at least make this preparation. Every time a person sits down to study Torah, he needs to stop for a moment and think: Right now I’m not doing what I want. I’m doing what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, and through that I cleave to Him. He needs to do this before studying—at least before studying. As is known, for beinonim, the essential preparation for studying for its own sake, without which it is lacking, is at the beginning of the study. A tzaddik can study and, while studying, keep in mind that he’s doing it for its own sake. An ordinary person, someone like us, would study nothing if he tried to think all these thoughts while studying. It would distract him; he can’t do it. But the preparation has to come beforehand, and its impression remains during the study. He gives an example from a get and a Torah scroll. What sets a get and a Torah scroll apart from other mitzvos is that intent for their own sake is indispensable. If someone wrote a Torah scroll in accordance with all the laws but did not intend to do it for the sake of the mitzvah, the scroll is invalid.

38:20 Speaker 8 He writes it, not...

38:21 Speaker 9 He has to say beforehand that it’s for the sake of its sanctity.

38:23 Speaker 8 Ah.

38:24 Speaker 2 If someone writes a scroll—you know what? Let’s take this example: They print a Torah scroll by machine, on a press. Is it kosher?

38:34 Speaker 8 Yes.

38:34 Speaker 2 No.

38:34 Speaker 9 No. A Torah scroll has to be on parchment.

38:37 Speaker 2 A Torah scroll, the kind from which we read the Torah, yes. It’s invalid. Why is it invalid? Because a machine doesn’t know how to intend to do something for the sake of Hashem. Invalid. What can you do? It could even be—what do they call it? Silk-screen printing on parchment. Take kosher parchment and kosher ink and print it, and it’ll be more beautiful than... You’ll have such a beautifully made scroll. Invalid. Why? A machine doesn’t know how to act for its own sake. That’s it. There’s no way around it. More than that: Let a non-Jew come. A non-Jew. He can think, he can have an intention, and he’ll write a Torah scroll intending it for the sake of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Invalid. Why? Because a non-Jew cannot have the required intention for its own sake. More than that: Let a Jew come. A Jew. A heretic who writes a Torah scroll according to every law and requirement, with complete accuracy. Yes? What does halachah say? A Torah scroll written by a heretic is burned, including the Divine Name in it. More than that: Let a Jewish chossid come, someone who fears Heaven and is learned, and he writes the entire Torah scroll for its own sake. One letter, half a letter, he writes without intent—the scroll is invalid. You may not read from it. If you do, the blessing is in vain.

40:16 Speaker 9 And a siddur? A siddur is printed.

40:18 Speaker 2 What does a siddur have to do with it? A Torah scroll is a Torah scroll.

40:22 Speaker 9 It applies to holy books. Just Torah scrolls.

40:26 Speaker 2 So halachah says, halachah says, halachah says that an ordinary person, a beinoni, cannot keep that up. An ordinary person can’t write a Torah scroll—it takes a whole year, or several months. A person can’t do it. What can you do? We’re only human. So what’s required? Is it enough to do it at the beginning of the writing? At the beginning, say and intend: “I am writing this entire Torah scroll for the sake of Hashem.” If later, in the middle, your thoughts drift a little—yes, but at the beginning I intended the whole thing to be for the sake of Hashem, for the sake of its sanctity.

41:05 Speaker 9 That makes more sense. That makes more sense.

41:08 Speaker 2 That’s what he’s saying. So there’s a halachah. How is it relevant to us here? There’s a halachah that a Torah scroll must be written for its own sake. It’s true of all Torah study, but you can’t maintain that intent throughout, so the Torah says: At least state your intention in advance, before you begin. The same applies to a get, a divorce document. A husband and wife are getting divorced, and it has to be written specifically for him and for her. If the scribe writes the get just like that—say a man prepares a get for himself, you know, just in case. He writes a get with his name and his wife’s name, and a few years later he wants to use it. He can’t. Why? When it was written, the intent wasn’t there. Or a man has two wives with the same name. A man married two women with the same name, and the scribe wrote the get with the correct names, but he intended it for this wife. He cannot use it to divorce the other wife. Yes. That means: When must the scribe have the intention? Before beginning to write. So the Rebbe says that, as we see in halachah, when doing something for its own sake is essential, intention at the beginning is enough. The same applies to you: You must observe all the mitzvos for their own sake. You can’t keep thinking about it at every moment while doing them. Before you begin, intend to do it for its own sake, and intend that this should carry through the whole thing. Why? What?

42:42 Speaker 9 That’s an important point. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.

42:47 Speaker 2 Why does he give two examples, a get and a Torah scroll? Isn’t one example enough? That’s another question. You could bring more. I could bring ten examples.

42:57 Speaker 9 Excellent.

42:58 Speaker 2 Yes, there are another hundred things like that. Why these two specifically? The Rebbe has a wonderful explanation of this. It was only revealed in recent years, I think. A Torah scroll is something positive, while a get is about separation. So whether you’re talking about love, about mitzvos connected with attachment to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, or about prohibitions against becoming separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, intention at the beginning is enough. “And when one studies for many consecutive hours, one should reflect on the above preparation at least once every hour.” First, at the start of the day. Then, after davening. If you study again later in the day, you need to reflect on it again beforehand. If a person studies for two hours straight, every hour he should pause and reflect on it again. Why? I reflected on it before I started studying. Why stop every hour and think about it again? Remember what we’re supposed to think about? Yes? Do you remember or not?

44:06 Speaker 9 One moment.

44:07 Speaker 2 That Hakadosh Boruch Hu stands before me, that He is King of the whole world, and that I do the mitzvos in order to become attached to Him. That’s the main point. You can go back over the chapter and see the details. Why every hour? Because each hour brings a different flow from the higher worlds to give life to the lower worlds, and the flow of Divine life that sustained the world during the preceding hour returns to its source, in the manner of “running and returning” described in Sefer Yetzirah. Like... Why is one of the names for the soul “neshamah”? Why is it called neshamah? It’s like nesh—like breathing, neshimah. How does a person live? By breathing. How does breathing keep a person alive? In and out, in and out. Why not just breathe in continuously? Why do we have to keep breathing out? Why, after every time a person inhales, must he exhale? Why did Hakadosh Boruch Hu make it that way? Huh?

45:07 Speaker 9 Not breathe out, no.

45:10 Speaker 2 It could go in here and come out there. It could just pass through freely. No, some arrangement could be made. It’s not that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is short of solutions. So why is it like this? It says, “And the living beings ran and returned.” The way life works is through change. It’s constantly changing. Life goes and comes back, goes and comes back, goes and comes back. From top to bottom, in all the worlds, in every way. And from bottom to top. Just as the neshamah gives life to the body through “running and returning,” through breathing in, so too Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives life to the worlds, to their physical existence, at every moment through “running and returning.” This isn’t the place to explain it right now, but that’s how it works. What does “running and returning” mean? Every hour Hakadosh Boruch Hu brings in life—breathing in and breathing out, breathing in and breathing out. The life that sustains the world is like the air entering the body: it’s constantly being replaced. Every hour, the life-force changes.

46:22 Speaker 9 Is an hour measured by the clock?

46:23 Speaker 2 By a seasonal hour. The Rebbe explains it here. There are sixty minutes and so on. In the manner of “running and returning” described in Sefer Yetzirah, each hour the life-force returns to its source, together with all the Torah study and good deeds of those below. So everything he has just studied in Torah during this hour, with his good intention, all goes back up. Now there’s a new life-force, so reflect on it again.

46:54 Speaker 9 How often?

46:55 Speaker 2 Huh?

46:56 Speaker 9 An hour.

46:57 Speaker 2 Every seasonal hour. You can divide it differently too; that’s fine.

47:02 Speaker 9 But what does “seasonal” mean? Does it mean nine, ten? What?

47:04 Speaker 2 No. A seasonal hour is when you divide the day into twelve hours and the night into twelve hours, from sunrise to sunset. That changes every day according to the times of sunrise and sunset. It also changes by location. In some places the day is longer, and in others the night is longer, so it’s all calculated accordingly.

47:27 Speaker 9 Is there somewhere online to check that?

47:28 Speaker 2 What?

47:29 Speaker 9 I mean, can you check it? Can you find out what the hour is?

47:31 Speaker 2 A seasonal hour? Broadly speaking.

47:33 Speaker 9 Ah.

47:33 Speaker 2 Lots of places, plenty.

47:37 Speaker 9 What?

47:38 Speaker 2 All the calculations for when Shabbos begins and so on are based on seasonal hours. Nowadays they calculate it according to the angle of the sun. Of course there are calculations. It’s an interesting subject, but... All right. Tractate Pesachim, tractate Rosh Hashanah—several tractates of the Gemara discuss it at length. So what does it mean that a different life-force sustains the world each hour? Because each hour is governed by one of the twelve permutations of the name Havayah during the twelve hours of the day, and by permutations of the name Adnai at night, as is known. How many arrangements can you make from four letters—alef, dalet, nun, yud? Those are four letters, right? How many ways can you arrange them?

48:37 Speaker 10 How many letters?

48:38 Speaker 2 If you have one letter, how many ways can you arrange it?

48:44 Speaker 10 One.

48:44 Speaker 2 Just one. If you have two letters?

48:47 Speaker 10 Two.

48:47 Speaker 2 Two. This way and that way, right? If you have three?

48:52 Speaker 10 This way and that way and that way.

48:54 Speaker 2 The two letters you had before can go this way and that way, right, when the third letter comes first? Now switch one, and if we put it here, we have another two arrangements, this way and that way, right?

49:03 Speaker 10 Six.

49:04 Speaker 2 Take this one and put it here, and again you have this way and that way. So that makes six, right?

49:08 Speaker 10 Right.

49:09 Speaker 2 Good. So what do we get? The calculation goes like this: one times two times three times four. Every time another letter is added, it multiplies the number of previous arrangements. Yes? So what’s one times two times three times four?

49:26 Speaker 10 Twelve. Twelve, no?

49:30 Speaker 2 Are you sure?

49:31 Speaker 10 Because you said with three there were six, times two.

49:34 Speaker 2 What?

49:35 Speaker 10 Twenty-four.

49:36 Speaker 2 Twenty-four.

49:38 Speaker 10 Six times four.

49:40 Speaker 2 One times two is two. Two times three—

49:42 Speaker 10 Ah, times the next number.

49:43 Speaker 2 Is six.

49:45 Speaker 10 What, times two?

49:46 Speaker 2 Twenty-four?

49:47 Speaker 10 Yes.

49:48 Speaker 2 So we’ve reached twenty-four. Good. In Kabbalah, in books of Kabbalah, in countless places—really, more places than you could count—there are references to the twenty-four permutations of Adnai. The name alef, dalet, nun, yud has twenty-four permutations. How many permutations are there in the name yud, hei, vav, hei?

50:10 Speaker 10 There are two heis.

50:12 Speaker 2 There are two identical heis, right? But on the other hand, the first hei and the second hei are not the same hei. One is Binah and one is Malchus. So there are twelve; there are twenty-four. It gets a little more complicated here, yes? Why does the Rebbe speak here of twelve permutations of Adnai? Why twelve? There are twenty-four. When we speak about twelve—

50:40 Speaker 10 During the day and at night.

50:41 Speaker 2 No, that’s—Pardes speaks about the day and the night. That’s not what the Alter Rebbe writes. So there is an explanation, and in the early years the Rebbe wrote at great length about it. It’s one of the early letters in Igros Kodesh, volume one. A very, very long letter from the Rebbe that explains this whole subject so clearly, as sweet as honey—all the intricate analysis the Rebbe develops there. In the end, the bottom line is simple, the Rebbe says: not every permutation is relevant in every context. When we’re discussing the life-force through which Hakadosh Boruch Hu creates the world, the permutations that indicate a life-force above the worlds are not relevant. Every permutation has its own meaning. Some permutations aren’t relevant to our subject, to sustaining the world and sustaining time. In practice, twelve permutations of the name Havayah are relevant to sustaining the hours of the day, and twelve such permutations sustain the hours of the night. This is, more or less, a novel point made by the Alter Rebbe. It isn’t stated explicitly elsewhere; it isn’t written anywhere earlier. Even in the Alter Rebbe’s words it’s fairly allusive. It has some basis in the Maggid’s teachings and in another place. What’s written here—this line—is the source: twelve permutations of Havayah by day and twelve permutations of Adnai by night. This line in Tanya is the source, and from here it was copied in countless places, until the Rebbe explained it. Yes. In any case, for our purposes, since each hour has a different life-force, every hour one needs to reflect again. “And behold, his entire intention in surrendering his soul to Hashem through Torah study and prayer is to elevate the spark of G-dliness within it to its source.” That is what it means to do it for its own sake. Yes? He does it in order to become attached to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Not for himself, so that I will become attached to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, but solely to bring pleasure

52:46 Speaker 2 Before Him, may He be blessed. Like the joy of a king when his only son comes to him after leaving captivity and prison, as mentioned above. We said earlier that when my intention is not for my own sake, but for what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, that’s something very... It doesn’t seem to apply to everyone, that I should want what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants. But this intention is completely genuine, in the truest sense, in every Jewish soul, at every time and every hour: to cleave to Him, to want the unification of Hakadosh Boruch Hu and His Shechinah. To serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu like a son who strives for the sake of his father and mother, as described in chapter 10 in the service of tzaddikim. That really doesn’t seem to apply to everyone. To serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu in order to cleave to Him—and more than that, why do I want to cleave to Him? Because I know that’s what He wants. Yet it is completely genuine, in the truest sense, in every Jewish soul, at every time and every hour, because this belongs to the natural love, and everyone has that natural love. Why does everyone have it? Because it is an inheritance from our forefathers. So you have to remember where that is written.

54:11 Speaker 11 Megillah?

54:12 Speaker 2 Where does it say that the natural love is an inheritance from our forefathers?

54:20 Speaker 11 No.

54:21 Speaker 2 Try to remember.

54:27 Speaker 11 That’s what Moshe said, isn’t it?

54:29 Speaker 2 Huh?

54:29 Speaker 11 Isn’t it connected to Moshe? He told the Jewish people to know Hashem.

54:33 Speaker 2 The explanation, the lengthy explanation, is in chapter 18 of Tanya. But the Alter Rebbe does speak about it already in chapter 2: “The second soul in a Jew is truly a part of G-d above.” Throughout that chapter, he demonstrates at length that the soul of every Jew is a part of G-d above. Then, in chapter 18, he also explains how it is an inheritance for us, what “inheritance” means. But even though this is completely genuine in everyone, one still needs, at times, to contemplate the greatness of Hashem in order to attain intellectual fear and love, and so on, as mentioned above. So although the beginning, essence, and foundation of the service is fear of Hashem, and this love of Hashem that applies to everyone and is completely genuine—the hidden love—it is, after all, a natural love. It isn’t an intellectual love. We’ve spoken several times already about how intellectual love is something higher: a person contemplates until his animal soul, his body, begins to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Natural love is only a matter of awakening the love of the G-dly soul. The G-dly soul already loves Hashem. You don’t need to persuade it to love Hashem; it loves Him. You need to reveal it. Reveal it—remember, it becomes revealed. But persuading the animal soul, the body, to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu—that is already... how did he put it there in chapter 9? To awaken the... to give birth to love in the right chamber of the heart until it spills over into the left chamber, so that the left chamber, too, begins to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is already... how did he describe it in...

56:30 Speaker 3 Is that for tzaddikim?

56:31 Speaker 2 Huh? It isn’t just for tzaddikim; it’s also for beinonim. But it already requires a person to have a higher soul, a higher soul-root. He needs a bit more intellectual ability, a bit more daas, and a somewhat more refined heart. It takes certain qualities that not everyone has—certainly not in our generation—to give birth to love...

56:57 Speaker 3 So that’s tzaddikim.

56:59 Speaker 2 No. Love is—

57:01 Speaker 3 Not tzaddikim—I meant the tzaddikim of the generation.

57:03 Speaker 2 No, no, no. I’ll finish with this point. I’ll clarify it. How are we doing for time?

57:14 Speaker 3 Excellent.

57:17 Speaker 2 When we speak about the animal soul beginning to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu, there are two general ways that can happen: the way it happens for a beinoni and the way it happens for a tzaddik. They are two different things. In both cases, we’re talking about the person’s physical heart being moved now: he’s excited, he loves and longs for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and that’s what he wants. But there are two fundamentally different ways this happens. One way: Why does he love Hakadosh Boruch Hu? Because he has just contemplated it, he has just thought about it, he understands it now, and right now he isn’t hungry or thirsty. He’s immersed in the subject, so he’s excited by it. Yes. The second way is that it has become natural to him. He loves Hashem not because of something else; it is his nature to love Hashem. There’s a big difference. I’ve given this example from the opposite direction several times already—sorry. Think about how much a person loathes something, hates something. One person hates a particular thing because it’s bad, so he doesn’t like it. But then there’s disliking something without having a reason. What’s the difference between moldy bread and a cockroach? He won’t eat either of them. Is it the same thing?

59:04 Speaker 3 No.

59:04 Speaker 2 It isn’t the same thing, right?

59:06 Speaker 3 Of course there’s a process.

59:13 Speaker 2 It isn’t the same thing! Now, wait a moment. We haven’t finished.

59:18 Speaker 3 He commits a transgression.

59:19 Speaker 2 We haven’t finished. Some people do eat cockroaches, and they even find them tasty.

59:27 Speaker 3 They even make sweets out of them.

59:28 Speaker 2 Are there people like that? Why is it so obvious to us that it’s...

59:37 Speaker 3 Repulsive.

59:38 Speaker 2 We can’t even imagine it. Why? Are we made of different stuff? Are we different kinds of people? Aren’t they human beings? What’s the difference?

59:49 Speaker 3 Well, they aren’t Jewish.

59:50 Speaker 2 There could be Jews like that too. I could give you the name of a Chabad chossid like that.

59:55 Speaker 3 What, who likes cockroaches?

59:57 Speaker 2 Yes.

59:59 Speaker 3 Well.

59:59 Speaker 2 He doesn’t eat them; it’s forbidden.

1:00:02 Speaker 3 Oh, he ate one once.

1:00:05 Speaker 2 [unclear]. Without going into that distressing matter, what’s the difference? Why? What does one have to do with the other?

1:00:19 Speaker 3 A person’s soul.

1:00:20 Speaker 2 From childhood, it was impressed upon us. We thought about it and contemplated it until our hearts changed. With a tzaddik, his heart has changed not only regarding that. Every transgression feels to a tzaddik the way a cockroach feels to me: he cannot go near it. Why will a tzaddik never stumble into a transgression? He hates it; it’s repulsive to him. He can’t do it. A person can stumble into a transgression when, deep down, he is attracted to it. He knows it’s forbidden, but he can still do it by mistake. A person can’t accidentally jump into a fire. That won’t happen by mistake. There are things a person can do by mistake and things he can’t. Why one and not the other? Because he hasn’t contemplated one deeply enough, while he has contemplated the other. A tzaddik is like that with regard to loving Hashem. His animal soul loves Him. But why does it love Him? A beinoni also loves Hashem. He has brought a love into being, and that love is present now because there is an understanding sustaining it. There’s a kind of fire there that lights it. The intellect is like a fire heating something until it boils. Why is it boiling? Because something is heating it. Move the fire away and it will cool down. The tzaddik himself is fire; he himself is burning. That’s the difference in this respect. So giving birth to an intellectual love in the heart does apply to us too, but it really requires contemplation and daas—firmly fixing one’s mind on it. And not all of us, even if we’ve studied and know enough to have something to contemplate, have that strength of daas to cleave to the subject so deeply that it ignites something inside us. But in principle, even in our generation,

1:02:48 Speaker 2 and certainly in earlier generations, there were many Jews—and there still are many Jews—for whom this does happen. Even though a person is a beinoni, at least during davening, and not necessarily only during davening, contemplating the greatness of Hashem brings about love in him. Genuine love, without his being a tzaddik. All right, chapter 41 spoke about the beginning, essence, and foundation of the service. Chapter 42, the next chapter, will continue discussing that same lower level of fear. It will explain several levels within it and the contemplation that leads to those levels. Once we finish summarizing chapters 41 and 42—two chapters on the beginning and essence of the service, on what the lower level of fear is—we’ll start, in chapter 43, discussing love of Hashem and the contemplations and everything there that pertains to our service: how to bring it into Torah and mitzvos, which contemplation applies to us, and then what applies to us even more, and even more, until we reach the peak.

1:03:54 Speaker 3 Why specifically chapter 41 before davening? In the chapter before... from?

1:03:58 Speaker 2 “The beginning, essence, and foundation of the service”: to contemplate it at every hour, and before he begins to daven.

1:04:10 Speaker 3 But if there’s more detail, then there’s still the detailed explanation of it.

1:04:13 Speaker 2 Yes, that’s fine too. Start there. That’s the point. The point is—