Likkutei Amarim Chapter 47 · 5781

00:03 Speaker 1 Good evening. We’re on chapter 47. As everyone knows, it’s the shortest chapter in Tanya. But it’s short not because it has little content—quite the opposite.

00:17 Speaker 2 It just—it’s misleading.

00:19 Speaker 1 It isn’t misleading. It’s the...

00:21 Speaker 2 It looks like—you get to the end, and then...

00:23 Speaker 1 That’s the result. When you work through a math problem, the calculation takes all this space, but in the end the answer is one line. That’s the bottom line. After all the explanations and all the preparation, we’ve reached the end. Like in davening: preparation, preparation, preparation. In the end, Shemoneh Esrei is...

00:39 Speaker 3 That’s 150 from me.

00:41 Speaker 1 150.

00:42 Speaker 3 Yes.

00:43 Speaker 1 Yes.

00:43 Speaker 3 And if he wants to join, we’ll let him know tomorrow. We’ll let Yigal know.

00:47 Speaker 1 Later. So, in the previous chapter the Alter Rebbe began speaking about the love of “as water reflects a face.” We discussed how, unlike—even in contrast to... Hm? No, no, I’m not. All right. There are all the kinds of love and awe and service of Hashem discussed earlier. The Alter Rebbe said that even someone who cannot attain them, and even someone on a still lower level, can attain this love. The love of “as water reflects a face,” which begins in chapter 46, the previous chapter, works in exactly the opposite way. The farther a person is, the less he feels G-dliness in his soul, the easier it is for him to awaken love. And what kind of love? Specifically, love of Hashem in its loftiest and strongest form is accessible to the person who is farthest away. That is the content of these chapters. In the chapter we learned last week, the Alter Rebbe began explaining this. How can it be that the farther a person is from G-dliness, the stronger his love of Hashem can be? How does that make sense? The analogy he brings is “as water reflects a face.” A person reflects on how Hakadosh Boruch Hu... We were sunk in Egypt, “the nakedness of the land,” and were slaves physically, enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt with backbreaking, hard physical labor. As the Rebbe explains in Likkutei Sichos and as is explained in several other places, that backbreaking labor was also spiritual. Then, suddenly, Hakadosh Boruch Hu came, without our having done anything or made any effort for Him, and took us out of Egypt, “the nakedness of the land.” He embraced us through Torah and mitzvos, with an embrace and a kiss of love—all the expressions quoted in the previous chapter. So when every Jew says, “Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d,” the words “our G-d” are like “the G-d of Avraham,” as he said. Just as Avraham

03:30 Speaker 1 Avinu—just as Avraham Avinu merited that Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s name be associated with him, so too Hakadosh Boruch Hu associates His name with each and every one of us. When a person reflects on this—what were we? We were nothing, utterly insignificant. We were far away, in exile, in impurity. We had made no effort and had not thought of Him at all. And suddenly He came, without any preparation on our part, from above downward: “I am Hashem”—I and not an angel, I and not a seraph, I and not a messenger, I and no other. He took us out, redeemed us and embraced us. He gave us Torah and mitzvos; He gave us His very Essence. When anyone thinks about this, his soul will naturally pour itself out in love of Hashem as he reflects on the good Hakadosh Boruch Hu did for us. That was the previous chapter. In our chapter, the Alter Rebbe adds another point, and it is really the main point. Because, after all, when a person thinks about the good Hakadosh Boruch Hu did for us by taking us out of Egypt some 3,300 years ago—well, that was a long time ago. It’s true that we still have the gift of Torah and mitzvos. But Hakadosh Boruch Hu actually taking us out of Egypt, doing that immense kindness for us—that happened thousands of years ago. What does it have to do with me today? Why should I feel love today because Hakadosh Boruch Hu took my ancestors out of Egypt thousands of years ago? Our chapter comes to answer that question. The central point of the answer is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu did not take only our ancestors out. He took us out too—and not only in the past tense, but in the present: Hakadosh Boruch Hu takes each and every one of us out of Egypt every day.

05:28 Speaker 1 That’s the point. So each of us should love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Let’s look inside. Chapter 47: “And behold, in every generation, and on each and every day, a person is obligated to see himself as though he had left Egypt today.” The Alter Rebbe does something interesting here. He takes two teachings of our Sages, two Mishnayos—one in Pesachim and one in Berachos—and joins them into a single statement. In Pesachim it says, “In every generation, a person is obligated to see himself as though he had left Egypt.” But it doesn’t say this must be done every day. In Berachos it says that a person must—there is a mitzvah, one of those listed at the end of the siddur among the six remembrances said at the end of Shacharis. There are six mitzvos; there are several opinions. According to the Beis Yosef, these are six mitzvos whose obligation is constant. The source for this is a Mishnah in Berachos, which says that every single day a person must remember the Exodus from Egypt. So Berachos says a person must remember the Exodus every day. Well, what am I supposed to do—how do I remember the Exodus? What exactly am I meant to remember? It doesn’t say there. The Alter Rebbe says these two statements, in Berachos and Pesachim, are one and the same. Berachos says a person must remember the Exodus from Egypt every day. How should he remember the Exodus? Pesachim spells it out: he must see himself as though he had left Egypt. The Alter Rebbe simply joins the two together. “And this is”—what does that mean? How can I see myself as though I had left Egypt? I can remember that my ancestors left Egypt; it’s written in the Torah. But what does it mean that I must see myself as though I am leaving Egypt?

07:29 Speaker 1 “And this is the departure of the G-dly soul from the imprisonment of the body, the skin of the serpent.” We learned in chapter 36 that this world in general is kelipas nogah, and our body in particular is from kelipas nogah, called the skin of the serpent. It belongs to the kelipos, to impurity, and our G-dly soul is imprisoned in the body. We spoke there about how it’s like putting someone in a sack—a sack with no openings for his arms and legs. You dress him in it, and he feels terribly uncomfortable. He can’t function as a person; he can’t see or do anything. The soul is inside the body like a person dressed in a sack. It doesn’t see G-dliness or feel G-dliness. It experiences this as exile, as a very difficult state. It feels imprisoned. And every single day, our G-dly soul, imprisoned in the body—the skin of the serpent—can leave and become included in the unity of the light of the blessed Ein Sof through engaging in Torah and mitzvos generally, and especially through accepting the sovereignty of Heaven when reciting Shema. When a Jew performs a mitzvah or studies Torah—or, in a particular and special way, as we’ll soon see, accepts the yoke of Heaven—at that moment his soul leaves the prison of the body. Until now, what interested him, what occupied his thoughts, desires and cravings, were matters of this world, and the soul was in exile. Suddenly a window opens for it. He hears Kaddish; he says Amen during Kedushah in his daily routine. Amen is a window, a window of light. The soul sees G-dliness. Suddenly something glimmers there. A person performs a mitzvah, and the soul suddenly—ah!—gets a little air to breathe. It’s like lifting its head out of the water for a breath. So every act of Torah study, every mitzvah and every prayer takes the soul out of the prison of the body right now.

09:55 Speaker 1 That is Torah and mitzvos generally. And especially, there is accepting the sovereignty of Heaven when reciting Shema, when a person says Shema. What is Shema about? He explicitly accepts and draws upon himself His blessed unity. When a person simply performs a mitzvah—a woman lights Shabbos candles, a Jew gives tzedakah—he isn’t necessarily thinking at that moment, “Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One,” and accepting the sovereignty of Heaven. No, he knows he has to do a mitzvah, so he does it. He isn’t necessarily feeling or thinking about Hakadosh Boruch Hu in that way at the time. But when a person says Shema, what does he say? “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.”

10:45 Speaker 4 Start warming it up.

10:47 Speaker 1 He has to think at least about the meaning of the words, right? But the content, the plain meaning of the words of Shema, is that a person thinks about Hakadosh Boruch Hu and accepts the yoke of Heaven upon himself. So with the other mitzvos, it isn’t so apparent to the soul that it is connecting to G-dliness right now. But with Shema, that is the subject. That is what we’re talking about. That is what we’re doing right now: right now I am connecting with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Right now I am leaving the prison of the body. It is completely apparent. “For through it he accepts and draws upon himself His blessed oneness explicitly, when he says, ‘Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.’” As explained above, in the previous chapter. “For He is our G-d”—we say, “Hashem is our G-d.” What does “our G-d” mean? It is like “the G-d of Avraham,” and so on. When we say that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is our G-d, the plain meaning is that right now Hakadosh Boruch Hu is my G-d, just as He is the G-d of Avraham. Right now I am at the level of Avraham Avinu. Right now Hakadosh Boruch Hu reveals Himself to me, as it says, “Hashem appeared to him.” “Hashem is our G-d”—right now He is my G-d. He is with me as He was with Avraham Avinu. The same thing. “Because Avraham was nullified and included in the oneness of the light of the blessed Ein Sof,” Hakadosh Boruch Hu therefore associates His name with him: “the G-d of Avraham.” So Avraham was nullified and included in the light of Hashem, and that is why one can say “the G-d of Avraham.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself testifies: I am the G-d of Avraham. How am I included in the light of Hashem? How can I say “Avraham”? I can say “our G-d.” How can I say “our G-d”? The Torah makes it possible, because when a person accepts the yoke of Heaven upon himself during Shema, he is nullified and included in G-dliness, and his soul leaves the prison of the body, like Avraham Avinu. What, then, is the difference? After all, I don’t feel that I am Avraham Avinu. The Rebbe explains: “Except that Avraham merited this

13:12 Speaker 1 through his deeds.” He earned it. For us, it is a kindness. Avraham Avinu merited having Hakadosh Boruch Hu reveal Himself to him and associate His name with him because he worked hard for it. We receive it as a gift.

13:33 Speaker 5 That’s what parents are for, isn’t it?

13:34 Speaker 1 Hmm?

13:34 Speaker 5 That’s what parents are for, isn’t it?

13:36 Speaker 1 That’s what parents are for. So which level is higher?

13:40 Speaker 5 You receive it from your parents, and then you make it your own.

13:42 Speaker 1 So the simple answer, seemingly—the one that naturally comes to everyone’s mind—is that he earned it. And we say, “Thank You very much for giving it to us,” but we don’t really deserve it. Yes? The Rebbe says that it is exactly the opposite. Avraham Avinu drew close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu with his own abilities. What are a human being’s abilities? True, they were Avraham Avinu’s abilities. But Avraham Avinu was also a human being, with intellect and emotion—limited intellect and limited emotion. Not intellect or emotion like ours, but still limited. A human being. All of Avraham Avinu’s closeness to Hakadosh Boruch Hu was achieved with the limited abilities of a mortal. But when Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives us the Torah and associates His name with us, not because of us but from His side, it is not limited. When a person draws close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu through his own avodah, that is truly very important and very beautiful. But how close can he get? How much can be revealed to him? As much as his own abilities allow. But when Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives Himself in the Torah, He gives Himself. That is incomparably higher than—our “G-d” is incomparably higher than Avraham Avinu’s “G-d.” And when does this happen? During Shema. So that is what he says here in the text: “Except that Avraham merited this through his deeds and his holy journey from level to level, as it is written, ‘And Avram journeyed, continuing to travel,’” and so on. Avraham Avinu left Charan. There is a whole story in the plain meaning—not for now, but, yes, Avraham came from the north, from Aram Naharayim in the north. He traveled from north to south. In short, his journeys took him from north to south. South symbolizes warmth. North symbolizes cold. True, on the other side of the globe it is the opposite, but Eretz Yisroel is the center of the world. So how did Avraham travel? On his journeys he went

16:02 Speaker 1 “continuing to travel southward.” The Torah tells us this. Chassidus explains that as Avraham went, he grew warmer in his love of Hashem. Avraham was a man of chesed. Chesed is the basis, the reason for love. Why does a person love? Because he is a person of chesed; that is why he loves.

16:22 Speaker 5 Why does it say, “From the north, evil will break forth”?

16:24 Speaker 1 What?

16:25 Speaker 5 Why does it say—

16:27 Speaker 1 It’s a cold, dark place. There are dangerous animals there.

16:33 Speaker 5 And that’s where he came from, to Eretz Yisroel.

16:39 Speaker 1 Ah!

16:40 Speaker 5 From the north.

16:41 Speaker 1 Ah, good question. I don’t know right now. But when a person goes—Avraham’s “continuing to travel” means that he went on growing warmer. He kept building up a blazing fire. His love of Hashem kept growing more and more and more. Through what merit? He went, he traveled, and he took his entire household along with him. So he achieved it through his own abilities. “But for us it is an inheritance and a gift.” What is the difference between an inheritance and a gift? A person receives an inheritance from his parents. A gift, a person receives—not necessarily—one receives gifts from parents too, but...

17:29 Speaker 5 A gift can also be given during someone’s lifetime; an inheritance comes after death. When are we free?

17:42 Speaker 1 Neither of those depends on the recipient’s work. A child receives from his parents what they have to give, what they gathered during their lives. With a gift, a person gives his friend something not in return for work he did; he gives him a gift.

18:03 Speaker 5 It says about the kohanim, “I give you your kehunah as a service of gift.” But after, as it were, the Kohen Gadol is given that gift, it then becomes an inheritance for his children.

18:12 Speaker 1 That’s true, and there are several other aspects to inheritance and gifts. But in general, an inheritance and a gift are things one receives without working for them. The difference is that you receive an inheritance from your parents and a gift from a friend. “It is an inheritance and a gift to us, for He gave us His Torah and clothed within it His blessed will and wisdom, which are utterly united with His blessed being and essence. Thus, it is as though He gave us Himself, as it were.” So Avraham Avinu, as he journeyed from level to level—how far did he get? He reached a very lofty level, but one limited by his own abilities. But when Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us Himself, He clothed Himself in the Torah and gave it to us not through work, not because we earned it, not as a reward, but as a gift. That is not limited. An inheritance is something limited. How much can parents leave their child?

19:33 Speaker 5 Everything they acquired.

19:34 Speaker 1 As much as they acquired. A gift is not limited. You can give everything. And what does it mean that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us Himself both as an inheritance and as a gift? It does not come as a reward for work; it comes as a gift. So let’s start the other way around. Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave it to us as an inheritance. That means each and every person receives it. A gift isn’t given to just anyone. Who do you give a gift to?

20:09 Speaker 5 Someone you love.

20:10 Speaker 1 Someone you love. You don’t give a gift to someone you don’t love. Right, it isn’t a reward, but you give it only—you don’t give a gift to just anyone. So the Torah and mitzvos are our inheritance. That means, on the one hand, everyone receives it; on the other hand, what kind of inheritance is it? Not limited like an ordinary inheritance, but a gift of Himself. As the holy Zohar says about the verse, “And they shall take for Me a contribution.” Now, in the straightforward meaning of the verse, what does “And they shall take for Me a contribution” mean? Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks the Jewish people: You have a contribution, terumos and maasros. Fine, take the contribution and bring it to Me. Right? That’s the straightforward meaning of the verse. Yes? Yes or no?

20:54 Speaker 5 Yes.

20:54 Speaker 1 “Take a contribution for Me”—take a contribution and bring it to Me. The Zohar explains: “‘For Me’ means ‘Me,’ and it should have said ‘and a contribution.’” A contribution—terumah—the Zohar says there, has the same letters as “Torah” and the letter mem. Terumah contains the letters of “Torah” and mem.

21:25 Speaker 5 What is that mem?

21:28 Speaker 1 The Torah that was given over forty days.

21:32 Speaker 5 Ah.

21:32 Speaker 1 So what does “And they shall take for Me a contribution” mean according to the Zohar? “Take Me”—take Me. How do you take Me? Through the contribution. Yes? Because if that is the Zohar’s explanation, if “they shall take for Me” means “take Me,” and also take a contribution, take the Torah, it should have said, “Take Me and also take the contribution.” Take both Me and My Torah. But it doesn’t say, “Take Me, and take Me”; it says, “Take Me through Torah.” What does that mean? Take Me through Torah. That is how the Zohar explains it, in the Alter Rebbe’s words: “‘For Me’ means ‘Me,’ and it should have said ‘and a contribution.’” If “Me” and “a contribution” were two different things, it should have said “and a contribution.” Rather, because they are all one, there is nothing additional there. What does that mean? That Torah and “Me” are the same thing. What does it mean to take Me through Torah? If the Torah is not Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then when I take—

22:51 Speaker 5 He asks.

22:52 Speaker 1 I don’t take Him through the Torah? But the Torah is Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So if the Torah is Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself—His wisdom, His will, He Himself—then when I study Torah, I take hold of Him. But I’m not Avraham. How can I take His essence and being and have Him be my G-d? True, you’re not Avraham. You received it as an inheritance and a gift, and therefore, the moment you study Torah—

23:26 Speaker 5 But that was already true of Yaakov too.

23:32 Speaker 1 Why does he say it in connection with “the G-d of Avraham”? That same verse goes on to say “the G-d of Yaakov” too. I don’t know; I hadn’t thought about it.

23:37 Speaker 5 Yaakov’s connection to G-d also came from Avraham. What Yitzchak did afterward, having received it from Avraham, and everything Yitzchak did—

23:42 Speaker 1 I don’t know why he emphasizes Avraham specifically. Seemingly, the verse refers to all three of the Avos. Maybe that’s why he alludes to it here with “the G-d of Avraham,” and so on.

23:53 Speaker 5 No, I mean that it was present with Avraham, but Yaakov, in practice, received it from—from Avraham, from Yitzchak, and from G-d Himself.

24:00 Speaker 1 Maybe—I’m thinking about it now—yes, with Avraham the emphasis is that it came through his own effort: “And he journeyed on, toward the south.” He wants to say that with us, it isn’t through our own effort. Maybe that’s why he emphasizes Avraham specifically. But the point applies to all the Avos. And this is what it means when we say, “And You gave us, Hashem our G-d, with love,” and so on; “For in the light of Your countenance You gave us, Hashem our G-d”—ah—“the Torah of life.” This makes it understandable. Next. That’s it, that’s where it ends, yes.

24:43 Speaker 6 No, then [unclear] “the Torah of life.” What? What? No. “You gave us,” and so on. “And for this”—and...

24:50 Speaker 1 This makes it understandable: having learned and understood that the Torah is “Me”—the Torah is He Himself—it says, “For in the light of Your countenance You gave us, Hashem our G-d, the Torah of life.” You gave us Yourself, “Hashem our G-d.” How? Through “the Torah of life.” And for this reason, nothing prevents our soul from cleaving to His oneness and His light, may He be blessed, except our own will. So when a Jew says Shema, at that moment he leaves the prison of the body, just as our ancestors left Egypt. And then, the moment I say Shema—or fulfill another mitzvah, though he’s speaking particularly about Shema, where this is manifest—I am in precisely this situation: Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who is all-powerful, King of all the worlds and beyond all the worlds, descends all the way down to me, the lowliest of people, gives me Himself as a gift and an inheritance, and embraces and kisses me. So how could I not love Him? This isn’t something that happened once. It’s happening now. And nothing prevents our soul from cleaving to His oneness and His light, may He be blessed, except our own will. Why? Why can our will prevent it? Because if a person does not want at all, G-d forbid, to cleave to Him, and so on—it’s just like an inheritance or a gift. When someone is given an inheritance and says, “Sorry, I’m not interested; I don’t want the inheritance,” he doesn’t have to accept it. If you don’t want it, it can be given to someone else. The same is true of a gift. If someone is given one—well, this is established in halachah. When Reuven gives Shimon a gift, as long as Shimon hasn’t taken it, picked it up, and acquired it—as long as he hasn’t lifted it in his hand—he can say, “I don’t want it.” Once he accepts the gift, neither of them can retract. It’s like a sale in every respect. But if he doesn’t want to accept the gift, then

27:19 Speaker 1 you don’t force a person to accept something he doesn’t want. And therefore, nothing prevents our soul from cleaving to His oneness and His light, may He be blessed, except our own will: if a person does not want at all, G-d forbid, to cleave to Him, and so on. But a person who does want to—the moment he wants to, he receives and draws down G-dliness upon himself, and says, “Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” When he says this in Shema, he means: Right now I am leaving Egypt and I want to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. At that moment, “spirit brings forth spirit and draws forth spirit.” Spirit brings spirit and draws spirit down, and at that moment, for him, this is an exodus from Egypt. He is leaving Egypt now. It isn’t something that happened thousands of years ago. It’s happening now. So when a person reflects on this, it will bring him to love Hashem: Hakadosh Boruch Hu left all the worlds and all the angels, unites His Name with me, and gives me Torah and mitzvos—and now, now, now I connect with Him. That is why they instituted the passage about the Exodus from Egypt specifically at the time of Shema. Because seemingly, what’s the connection? It’s a mitzvah in its own right. True, as we mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, there’s a mitzvah to remember the Exodus from Egypt every day, and because there is such a mitzvah, our Sages instituted saying the passage about the Exodus every day. Where is the passage about the Exodus?

29:09 Speaker 7 On the seventh day.

29:11 Speaker 1 During the day—in Shema. So we say it every day, and by doing so we fulfill a mitzvah in the Torah. There’s another mitzvah: to accept the yoke of Heaven and to love Hashem. Well, that’s the mitzvah expressed in the verses of Shema. Why do they have to be placed together? What’s the connection? One is a mitzvah to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and the other is a mitzvah to remember the Exodus from Egypt. Why put them together? They’re two separate mitzvos. You might as well join together, I don’t know, Pesach and Rosh Hashanah. What’s the connection? What does one have to do with the other? He says: No. Yes, “although it is a mitzvah in its own right and not one of the mitzvos of Shema, as stated in the Gemara and the halachic authorities, nevertheless, it is because they are truly one and the same.” What did we just learn? That the substance of Shema is that right now, at this moment, I am leaving Egypt. So when is the most fitting time to remember and fulfill the mitzvah of the Exodus from Egypt? Now, when I’m leaving Egypt right here. First I leave Egypt, and immediately afterward I say the verses of that mitzvah and remember it. And at the end of the passage about the Exodus, it also concludes, “I am Hashem your G-d.” This too is as explained above. How does it end there? “I am Hashem your G-d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt. I am Hashem your G-d.” What? Why repeat “Hashem your G-d”? You’ve already finished saying it. Why say “I am Hashem your G-d” again? Because the whole substance of the Exodus from Egypt is the theme of Shema: “I am Hashem your G-d”—that I should be your G-d. So that’s why, when we say Shema, we place the Exodus from Egypt alongside it. When we speak about the Exodus from Egypt, we’re speaking about the theme of Shema. They really are two separate mitzvos, but one idea. So when a person—when a person

31:12 Speaker 1 reflects on the chap... So this really is a short and easy chapter, that’s true, but its point is very relevant and very simple. The more distant I feel, instead of giving up over it, I should say: On the contrary, look how distant I am, how repulsive and loathsome, and so on and so forth. Yet despite all that, Hakadosh Boruch Hu doesn’t take it into account. He approaches me, gives me Torah and mitzvos, frees my soul from the prison of the body, and even obligates me to connect with Him every day, twice a day. He gives me Torah, embraces me, and kisses me. How could I not love Him? It’s as simple as that. This doesn’t require any special contemplation or any... You don’t need to study Chassidus in depth for this; you don’t need anything. Just think: Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the King of kings, loves you and leaves all the worlds. For whom? For me. So these two chapters, 46 and 47, showed us how not only any Jew, but specifically the simplest of the simple, even the most unworthy, can love Hakadosh Boruch Hu with tremendous love, without any special contemplation. The Alter Rebbe devotes four chapters to this subject of love “as water reflects a face.” So far we’ve learned only two. What more is there to add in another two chapters? And those two chapters aren’t short or easy. What’s missing here? Yes? Is the question clear? The point is very simple. Until now, the Rebbe—the Alter Rebbe—has only spoken about what this love is, what Hakadosh Boruch Hu did for us. Yes? But he hasn’t spoken about how He did it. The next two chapters will discuss how Hakadosh Boruch Hu did it, what Hakadosh Boruch Hu sacrificed, so to speak, for our love. The central point

33:36 Speaker 1 It’s in chapter 49. Chapter 49—once you grasp its central point, it simply floors you. It’s unbelievable. I know very few people who... It’s just astounding. But to understand what chapter 49 says, we first need to study chapter 48. So we’ll go in order, with Hashem’s help. Next week we’ll begin chapter 48. At first we won’t understand: chapter 48 seems to veer completely off topic and explain memale kol almin and sovev kol almin—how Hashem fills all worlds and encompasses all worlds. You might ask, why are you suddenly giving me a lesson about G-dliness? We’re in the middle of Tanya, talking about serving Hashem—the most basic kind of service, for the simplest person—and suddenly you’re talking to me about memale and sovev. But understanding memale and sovev will give us the foundation for understanding chapter 49: what Hakadosh Boruch Hu sacrificed out of His love for us. Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d, King of the universe, through Whose word everything came into being.