Explanations of the Prayer - Halleluyah, Halleli - Part 2

00:03 Speaker 1 And regarding this chapter, the Frierdiker Rebbe writes—I don’t remember whether it was before or after his father, the Rebbe Rashab, began studying Chassidus with him, or began studying explanations of prayer with him. I don’t remember the details; that isn’t the point right now. In any case, he began with this chapter, with the Alter Rebbe’s explanation of it in the Siddur. The Rebbe Rashab taught the Frierdiker Rebbe this chapter according to Chassidus, using the explanation in the Siddur, and told him in the name of the Rebbe Maharash, who said in the name of the Tzemach Tzedek, that this was among the first maamarim the Alter Rebbe delivered when he returned from Petersburg: an explanation of this chapter, more or less. It is a foundation of Chassidus. There are more details that I don’t remember right now. But let’s finish what the Frierdiker Rebbe said and discuss a few aspects of it. When you look at the explanations, you can see why this isn’t just a homiletic interpretation. If you study the Tzemach Tzedek’s explanations, you can understand why explaining this chapter according to Chassidus is truly one of the fundamental ideas in Chassidus, not only in matters of the inner dimension of Torah. We’re leaving the second verse for a moment, yes. We said that, broadly speaking, the chapter itself is about trust—trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A person must trust only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu and in nothing else. Chassidus goes deeper, explaining through this chapter the whole difference between the flow of sustenance that comes from holiness and the flow that comes from this world. That is all part of trusting only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu and in nothing else. But sustenance can be received in several ways. This is a long discussion in Kuntres U’Maayan. In fact, the whole Kuntres U’Maayan

02:38 Speaker 1 explains this subject, based on the Alter Rebbe’s maamar cited there. That is the foundation. The maamar explains the whole point briefly, while Kuntres U’Maayan explains it at length: the difference between the sustenance that comes from this world—where one can receive an abundance of sustenance, even more abundant sustenance, and it doesn’t even require rebellion; more and more vitality is given freely, and Jews are even given a greater share—and the sustenance that comes from holiness. Nevertheless, a Jew chooses specifically the sustenance that comes from holiness. As the Rebbe also explains in the well-known maamar about “daas kanisa”: “We want the King.” He doesn’t want any sustenance from this world, even though this world can offer greater abundance, more vitality, and so on. He wants sustenance from holiness. All of this is explained in this chapter when you study it according to the inner dimension of Torah. But we won’t go into it at length before following the chapter in order. Now we move to the second verse: “I will praise Hashem with my life; I will sing to my G-d as long as I exist.” Here he begins speaking about his praise. We understood in the previous class that praise means revelation—the revelation of G-dliness. Where does that revelation of G-dliness come from? It is revealed in my soul, through my soul. The soul becomes attached to Hashem, and he praises Him, revealing G-dliness in his soul and, through that, in the world at large, as we discussed, [unclear], and so on. Here he states it in detail. In other words, the second verse spells out the first. The first verse says, “Praise Hashem, my soul.” In the second verse he specifies: “I will praise Hashem with my life.” I praise Hakadosh Boruch Hu with my life. On the plain level, the basic meaning is that I praise Hakadosh Boruch Hu at all times—with my soul, with my life, with everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives me, including the fact that He gave me life.

04:38 Speaker 1 Vitality. “I will sing to my G-d as long as I exist.” I sing to Hakadosh Boruch Hu as long as I exist. On the plain level, “as long as I exist” means just that: for as long as I exist, I sing to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is simply a repetition of the same idea, as we find in Tanach. It says of King David... So here, too, the repeated wording says the same thing: I praise Hakadosh Boruch Hu while I live, for my life, and I sing to Hakadosh Boruch Hu for as long as I exist. “As long as I exist”—that is the same point. Of course, the explanation in the Siddur does not accept that. Two things are written here, so there must be two distinct ideas. Briefly, the Alter Rebbe explains this in Shaar Hayichud Vehaemunah. The Alter Rebbe explains the verse—and everyone knows how to say it—and here the Alter Rebbe writes it briefly. In the Siddur it is a little longer. There are three differences between the first half of the verse and the second. The first says “I will praise,” and the second, “I will sing.” The first says Hashem’s name Havayah, and the second says “my G-d.” The first says “with my life,” and the second, “as long as I exist.” So there are three differences, okay? Three distinct differences. The Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya that the difference between the two halves of the verse is that one refers to the life of the soul and the other to the life of the body. In the course of that explanation, the Alter Rebbe explains the concept of “other,” in connection with “Hashem is G-d; there is none else besides Him.” He explains what “other” means. What does “there is none else besides Him” mean? “Other” can mean something secondary. “There is none else besides Him” means that there isn’t even something secondary. I might have thought that the world could be considered secondary—not an independent, separate existence, but secondary nonetheless. Like what? The Alter Rebbe says: like the body, which is secondary to the soul. As he says regarding body and soul, the body is secondary to the soul, but it is still an existence in its own right. A body on its own is dead; it needs the soul, so it is secondary to the soul. Still, it does have that secondary status. It has no purpose or significance on its own; its entire value is only while the soul is within it. But it is at least secondary. The world, by contrast, is not even secondary. It does not have even that status. So the Alter Rebbe writes there in parentheses that this is what the verse means: “I will praise Hashem with my life; I will sing to my G-d as long as I exist”—“as long as I exist” refers to the body. According to this interpretation of the verse, then, “my life” is the soul, and “as long as I exist” is the body. Why is the body called “my other”? For this reason: it is secondary to the soul. “Other,” as in the Talmudic phrase, “Judea in addition to the verse.” When you say “in addition,” you mean something secondary. The Gemara in Kiddushin says, “Judea in addition to the verse?” The Gemara is discussing a particular form of betrothal and says that if he used a certain expression, “charufasi,” she is betrothed. Why? Because a verse says, “and she is a betrothed maidservant.” From this we learn that “charufasi” is a term of betrothal; and in Judea, a betrothed woman is called a “charufah.” So the Gemara asks, “Judea in addition to the verse?” That is where we learn that “in addition” denotes something secondary. You already have a verse—why do you need Judea? What significance does the practice in Judea have? It is an external, secondary consideration when there is a verse that says it. So from there we learn that “other” means secondary, and that is why the body is called “my other”: it is secondary to the soul. Beyond that, what else does the verse mean?

06:42 Speaker 1 It is a reality in its own right—not separate, but at any rate, secondary. What example does the Alter Rebbe give? The body, which is secondary to the soul. As he says regarding the body and soul: the body is secondary to the soul, yet it is also a reality in its own right. A body on its own is dead. It needs the soul, so it is secondary to the soul. It has no significance or purpose in its own right; its entire value is only while the soul is in it. But at any rate, it is still secondary. The world, by contrast, is not even secondary—not even completely secondary. So the Alter Rebbe writes there, in parentheses, that this is the meaning of the verse, “I will praise Hashem with my life; I will sing to my G-d while I yet exist.” “While I yet exist” refers to the body. According to this interpretation of the verse, then, “my life” is the soul and “while I yet exist” is the body. Why is the body referred to with the word “yet”? For this very reason: because it is secondary to the soul. “Yet” is like the expression, “Yehudah—and Scripture besides?” When you say “besides,” it is as if you are saying “secondary.” In Kiddushin, the Gemara says, “Yehudah—and Scripture besides?” The Gemara asks about a certain form of betrothal and says that if a man uses the particular expression “my charufah,” she is betrothed. Why? Because the verse says, “And she is a betrothed maidservant.” From this we learn that “my charufah” is an expression of betrothal, and in Yehudah they call a betrothed woman a charufah. So the Gemara asks, “Yehudah—and Scripture besides?” That is where we learn that “besides” means something secondary. You have a novel point, and you need Yehudah as well? What weight does Yehudah carry here? It is an external matter, something secondary, when there is already a verse that says it. So from there we learn that “besides” denotes something secondary. That is why the body is referred to as “while I yet exist”: it is secondary to the soul. And besides that, what else does the verse mean?

08:41 Speaker 1 There are two ideas here. There is “with my life.” “My life” is the soul, and the soul is a part of G-d Above. So what does the soul sense? Hashem’s name Havayah, the soul’s source. “For Hashem’s portion is His people”—the soul comes from the name Havayah. So whom does the soul praise? Where does its connection lie? What level of G-dliness does the soul praise, connect to and cleave to? The level of Havayah. That is also why it says “I will praise”: praise implies revelation. The soul is more closely connected with revelation, and therefore it says, “I will praise Hashem with my life.” Yes, “with my life” means the soul. The soul, being closer to G-dliness, a part of G-d Above, sings to the name Havayah. There is the name Havayah, and there is language of revelation. And where does the body come in? “As long as I exist.” The body is called “my other,” not “my life.” “Other” means secondary, since the body receives its vitality. “My life” is the soul. The body’s vitality does not come from the name Havayah; it comes from the name Elokim. All this is called memalei kol almin. That is the difference between... the first is through... The body involves concealment, and that is the difference between the name Havayah and the name Elokim. Therefore, “as long as I exist,” which refers to the body—to whom does it sing? It sings to the name Elokim: “to my G-d.” It also uses the word “sing,” because there is a difference between praise and song. In general, the difference between praise and song is that praise is expressed with the mouth, while song is played with an instrument. We’ve said this several times before when studying something else—or maybe it was last year. I don’t remember what I told you, but it is well known. It is explained.

10:36 Speaker 2 Even with a musical instrument.

10:38 Speaker 1 Right, this is in Pesukei Dezimra, where there is a difference between praise and song. Sometimes there is a distinction between song and instrumental music, and so on, but it is the same idea: the Gemara says that praise is with the mouth, while music is with an instrument. In other words, when a person sings with his mouth, that is called praise. When a person makes music with an instrument, that is called instrumental music. Yes, that distinction applies here too. Since we are talking here about the body in relation to the soul, “in my life” refers to the soul and to this whole idea of praise with the mouth. It is, as it were, the soul’s melody. When it passes through the body—that is, when he considers the body as an entity in its own right—it is expressed through an instrument. It expresses the reality of having to contend with the instrument. Music, a violin, like music played on a violin. What is the difference between a person singing with his mouth and playing an instrument? When he sings with his mouth, the song comes from the soul. The song comes out of... the song comes out of him. Singing is something natural. I hear and feel the song, and I sing. But when you play an instrument, the instrument has no song of its own. You take a violin and make all kinds of movements. It is not that the violin has the song within it; the actions you perform with the violin bring out a song. It is a violin, and when you try to play it, there is a song. That is exactly, exactly like David and [unclear]. This is the analogy for the difference between the soul’s expression and the body’s expression. The soul’s expression of “in my life” is like singing with the mouth. That is why it says, “I will praise.” But the expression of “while I yet exist” is like expression through an instrument. It is something external, not a truly inward expression. That is why it says, “I will sing.” And the word for song is also connected with “cutting down the mighty”: things need to be cut away, because the animal body has aspects that conceal the spark, and therefore

12:24 Speaker 1 there needs to be a “cutting down of the mighty”—cutting away all the thorns and everything that interferes with and conceals the soul, preventing a connection with the spark. So, according to this, that is the meaning of the verse. These are two different things. “I will praise Hashem in my life” is the soul’s song. It is what the soul contemplates. The soul contemplates the name Havayah, and that gives rise to praise, song, and expression. The body, “while I yet exist,” contemplates the name Elokim, with this whole matter of music played on an instrument, which involves enclothing. So there are two ideas in this verse. There is another point, a vort, that is not from Chabad Chassidus but from another school of Chassidus. But I do not want to leave it out. I will say it—I mentioned it this morning too. Yes, yes, it is a vort said in the name of Breslov. Rabbi Nachman of Breslov says a very, very... I have not studied Rabbi Nachman’s approach, but this is widely known. These are beautiful ideas too, so I will mention it. He says that the plain meaning of “while I yet exist,” “I will sing to my G-d while I yet exist”—what is the way to understand “in my life” and “while I yet exist”? He says there are times when a person feels close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Yes, there are times—at certain hours, and in life generally. There are periods when a person feels close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He learns, he davens, he goes about his life, and things go as they should. And there are periods when a person feels darkness. He has nothing, nothing, nothing. There is despair. We speak a lot about despair, about not giving up. The Rebbe writes in a letter that the Rebbe of Breslov already emphasized not giving up. That is the whole point of that tzaddik; he speaks about it a great deal. There are times when a person falls and feels darkness. He has nothing, nothing at all, and then he falls into despair. So the verse tells us—and we need to start with the beginning of the verse—

14:21 Speaker 1 when you have life, when you have vitality, then you offer praise. But it is also speaking about something else. Sometimes a person feels darkness and has nothing at all. Then he needs to look for even small things. Rabbi Nachman says a person should look even for things that seem unimportant. Small things—focus on the small things: some action, some words, a mitzvah, some point of light. Look for one particular point he still has to hold on to, take it and rejoice in it. That will give him something. It will lift him up, bring him out of despair, and give him the strength to overcome all the negative things. But in Chabad Chassidus, I would say, the emphasis is a little different. Chabad Chassidus says—and the Rebbe says this too, as does the Tanya—that when a person is in a state of darkness, despair, and decline, he needs to contemplate the fact that he is a Jew. He contemplates that he has “a part of G-d above,” that he has a soul, and so on. This awakens that point within him, his innermost point, and brings him joy. That is also what it says there in Tanya: a person should awaken joy within himself through this point. As the rabbi says, within him there is a part... what there is in the mitzvos, and what is enclothed in him and calls to him—that is the order, that is with the text throughout his life. We spoke about this matter. You have heard this already, Rabbi Ofek[?]. It is a different kind of emphasis, a different point. But let us return. So, after all this explanation, he says the following: there are times when there is no revelation and there is darkness. Then “while I yet exist”—the word odi can mean “something more.” Rabbi Baruch[?] says this too, though he explains it differently. Odi means “something more,” even a small thing. Small things, small actions.

16:15 Speaker 1 Those are what you need to take and draw strength from, genuinely letting them give you strength. Through them, a person can overcome all the bad things and come out of that state. He continues: rely on the small things you still have. “Do not trust in princes, in a human being who cannot bring salvation.” The verse goes on and says... a person should not place his trust there. “Do not trust in princes.” What does it say? “Do not trust in princes, in a human being who cannot bring salvation.” These verses bring the whole matter to a close. On the plain level, “Do not trust in princes” means, as we said, that here we trust only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. I do not put my trust in anything else. “Do not trust in princes”—the plain meaning includes all sorts of benefactors, people from whom one might receive help. “Do not trust in princes.” Do not put your trust in anyone who says he is prepared to help you, whether benefactors or anyone else. “In a human being who cannot bring salvation”: a person must not rely on other people. That is one of the principles of bitachon: a person must rely only on Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Not on... As they say, there are many verses, but one of the well-known ones is, “Blessed is the man who trusts in Hashem, and Hashem will be his trust.” A person must trust only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and then things will be good for him. “Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, and whose heart turns away from Hashem.” I think that is the verse for Lag BaOmer, if I am not mistaken—the verse for this week. I am not sure. Yes, those verses are written there. “Blessed is the man who trusts in Hashem.” That is what the verse means when it says, “Do not trust in princes.” A person should not rely on them. Yes, sometimes a person is in poverty; someone in need comes along, and so on—poverty.

18:11 Speaker 1 So he relies on someone, on benefactors who will help him. He should not put his trust in them. “In a human being who cannot bring salvation.” That is an explanation, as it were. Why? Because he is a human being, and therefore he cannot bring salvation. He cannot truly help. Sometimes he can give you what you need, but you cannot really rely on him. One day he helps you, and tomorrow he decides not to help. He himself comes to an end. There are all sorts of possibilities. The verse goes on to explain: “His spirit departs, he returns to his earth.” Yes, this benefactor may be here today, with plenty of money, and he may genuinely be helping you. But one day, suddenly, “his spirit departs”—perhaps he simply dies. Or who knows what else might happen? He might lose his money. “He returns to his earth.” The plain meaning of the verse is that his life is limited, and one day he will die. “He returns to his earth; on that day his plans perish.” On the day this person stops helping you, you will lose your mind. You will lose your composure. If you rely only on benefactors and other people, then as soon as that person is no longer there, you will lose all, all, all your composure. So it is not wise to lean on other people. That is a simple, rational explanation. “Fortunate is he whose help is the G-d of Yaakov, whose hope is in Hashem his G-d.” That is us: a Jew who relies only on Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “Whose help is the G-d of Yaakov”—all his help, at all times, comes from Hashem. He trusts only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “Whose hope”—that means hope. Where does he place his hope? Only “in Hashem his G-d.” In whom does he hope and place his expectations? Only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So why can he be confident? Because

19:49 Speaker 1 Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the One Who makes heaven and earth. That is the answer to “From where will my help come?” Hakadosh Boruch Hu makes everything, and He is always there. So you can be sure that help will come from Him. There is no bankruptcy there—no, what do you call it? No bankruptcy. That doesn’t happen there. There, it’s for real. He helps; He can always help. That is the simple meaning of the verse. Now look at the explanation in the maamar. This idea is also explained in Chassidus. The Rebbe brings it briefly in the maamar, and brings that verse there as well; then the Rebbe continues to explain it. Chassidus cites the Zohar on this. What, says the Zohar, is the difference between the spirit of impurity and the spirit of holiness? The Zohar says that the spirit of impurity is always available in empty places and for free. In other words, the influence that comes from the sitra achra, from kelipah, does not demand work, effort, bittul, or refinement. It gives and gives for free. You just have to ask it. Yes? It comes free, quickly, easily. What belongs to the spirit of holiness requires refinement, effort, and bittul, and what is given is commensurate with one’s refinement and work. Those are the two distinctions the Rebbe explains briefly in the maamar. In holiness, what is given comes through work, and even then it is given in measure, only according to the degree of one’s bittul. What belongs to kelipah is given without work, and in abundance. So a person says, “Why do I need to go through all that refinement and bittul? I can have a good life, enjoy life, and… live like the non-Jews, like an animal, and receive influence from the opposite side.”

21:49 Speaker 1 “There I can receive an abundance of influence, be someone important, with lots of money in my pocket and lots of money in my bank account. Why live any other way?” That is the reasoning. In response, the verse says, “Do not put your trust in princes.” “Princes” refers to the kelipos. Why are they called “princes,” or generous benefactors? As we said, they give abundantly, without any action on your part. Yes? They bestow an abundance of influence. So the verse says, “Do not put your trust in princes.” Do not trust or rely on those benefactors, on influence from the opposite side. This is not only about the completely impure kelipos; it applies even to kelipas nogah and so on. You cannot rely on that either. Even if that influence seems worthwhile, a person should not seek it from them. The verse continues, “Nor in a human being, who cannot bring salvation.” The influence that comes from the opposite side cannot bring salvation. It is not proper influence; it is not a true gift. The salvation that comes from them is not salvation. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu grants salvation, it is real salvation. When kelipah grants “salvation,” it is not real. For a moment, you might think everything is fine. Sometimes a person thinks only about the present: “It’s all right for now. I’m living well in the meantime—what do I care?” But that is not real salvation. What they give only looks good on the outside, like an apple that looks beautiful on the outside but is rotten within. They give you influence, but in the end they set a trap for you. As it says in Tanya, the influence from the opposite side looks tasty and sweet. They give to you and smile at you, making you feel as though you are their friend

23:37 Speaker 1 and everything is fine. But afterward, what do you get? It is all bad, as is also written in the prayer. [unclear] “Nor in a human being, who cannot bring salvation.” Influence from the opposite side looks like salvation, but it is not real salvation. The verse continues: “His spirit departs; he returns to his earth.” This is a deeper explanation. The opposite side has no life of its own. All the life it has comes from the holy sparks it receives; it has no vitality of its own. Where does its vitality come from? From the spirit of holiness: it steals a spark and receives influence from it. But that influence does not last forever. A time comes when the sparks are refined through teshuvah and through other forms of refinement. The spark does not remain there forever, and once “his spirit departs,” the opposite side has no more power. “On that day, his plans perish.” It is left without life, and its influence comes to nothing. On that day it loses all its power. Why? Because it was relying on a holy spark. Once that holy spark is no longer there, nothing remains, and the person is left with no good at all. By contrast, “Fortunate is he whose help is the G-d of Yaakov.” Yaakov represents Tikkun, the opposite of the Tohu of Esav. This is influence from Tikkun, influence from the side of holiness. Although it requires toil, work, and effort, it is nevertheless real influence, real salvation, and it is eternal. On the contrary, as the verse says, “Who keeps truth forever”: influence from holiness endures. All right, that’s enough for today.