Explanation of the Contemplation Before Prayer - Part 3

00:06 Speaker 1 Let’s look at the bigger picture. Does anyone have a question about what we’ve discussed so far?

00:32 Speaker 2 At the beginning, at the beginning of the class, you said that hisbonenus is daas when you do binah many times. But then later you’re saying that it’s thinking through the process, like a maamar or something. Can you continue with the same thing?

00:53 Speaker 1 Yes, yes. I was just speaking more practically, about what to do. But it’s the same thing. In other words, thinking about one maamar many times is hisbonenus. It means doing binah many times.

01:12 Speaker 2 What, what, what you do many times—

01:14 Speaker 1 Binah is the subject of the maamar. You’re saying: you contemplate the subject of the maamar, and then you contemplate the subject of the maamar again. It’s the same thing. Why would those be two different things?

01:25 Speaker 2 Is that all at once? You contemplate it many times in one sitting?

01:31 Speaker 1 In one sitting, every day, another day, another day.

01:35 Speaker 2 So that’s the point you made about daas.

01:37 Speaker 1 That’s the way to do it. That’s what’s brought down regarding daas. Yes. There’s also the idea of thinking about the same subject several times in one day. That’s part of it too. But it’s also good to do that from time to time. If you take one maamar and think about it several times in the same day, it has a much deeper effect. You can’t do it every day, because life doesn’t allow for that. But once a month, or at times like that, when you can take one maamar and think about it several times in the same day, the experience is certainly much more inward.

02:21 Speaker 3 Is there a difference between thinking and...

02:25 Speaker 1 There is a difference. Of course there’s a difference. Thinking is thinking, and contemplating means delving deeply. Thinking can be—the Rebbe says this in Tanya: “hisbonenus through thoughts of yiras Shamayim.” What does “thoughts of yiras Shamayim” mean? The Rebbe is emphasizing that this isn’t deep contemplation. It’s hisbonenus through thoughts of yiras Shamayim. That’s the wording in Tanya. In other words, to attain yiras Shamayim you don’t need deep contemplation. Hisbonenus through thoughts of yiras Shamayim is enough. So there must also be a kind of hisbonenus that is more inward. In practice, the word hisbonenus is one of the terms used in Tanya, by the Rebbe. I think it’s in Sefer Hillel, or in other places... Chabad Chassidus. There are several places. [unclear] has a definition of the word hisbonenus: intense looking. Have you ever seen that in a maamar? Hisbonenus is a matter of intense looking. Yes, intense looking is deep contemplation. And thoughts of yiras Shamayim are what we generally engage in day to day. That’s what we need to do. That’s the difference between contemplation through thought and contemplation as intense looking. “Intense looking” means exactly what it sounds like: looking at something. In English you’d say “staring.” How do you say it? Ah, focusing. When you’re focusing—that already sounds to me like the translation. Not that, um, “enfocando”? Is that the word? Focus, meaning focus. Ah, it comes from English too, as I thought. In other words, when you look at a painting—if anyone here has an eye for painting, they’ll understand this—you look at the painting for a long time. You don’t just admire its outward appearance: “Wow, how beautiful,” and that’s it.

04:52 Speaker 1 You stop and stand there, looking at the painting. You look at it for a long time. What are you looking at? Are you looking to see which colors the painting is made of? That’s not... that’s not what looking means here. With a painting—and those of us who have an eye for painting know this—looking at it means continually discovering more of its depth. That’s looking; that’s concentration. At first you see the painting as a whole and admire its beauty. But the longer you look, the more depth you discover in it: more depth, more soul, more life, more things you didn’t see at first glance. You concentrate more and more, until your gaze becomes so intense, so inward, that you forget where you are. [unclear] There’s that kind of experience: someone looking at a painting can forget for a while where he is. So there’s a kind of hisbonenus that is intense looking. In other words, with the subject of [unclear], you contemplate the bittul of the created being, the negation of its independent existence, but you do so through intense looking. You enter into the depth of the subject. It’s not just—every maamar has its line of reasoning: the question, the answer, the explanation, the way it’s presented. That’s the more structural, technical side of the maamar. The maamar asks, answers, explains, and I understand the question, the answer, the explanation, the analogy and what it represents—everything. That’s the outward picture. But if I think about it again and again and again, each time I enter more deeply into the soul of the subject. In other words, what is it really talking about?

06:52 Speaker 1 It’s not just what the maamar says, but how this understanding changes the way I look at life, how the way I saw things until now was mistaken. This way of looking is much deeper. Suddenly I look at the world, or at my own reality, or at what I see, or at life, in a different way. That’s what’s called looking. Understand? It means you’re not just thinking through the maamar: fine, it asks, answers, asks, answers, explains, and here’s the analogy and what it represents. Rather, you take it in deeply, into the soul, into the inwardness of the matter. The Frierdiker Rebbe has a letter in Hatamim. I think it’s near the beginning of Hatamim—I don’t remember whether it’s in the first issue or the second, but it’s close to the beginning. There’s a very beautiful letter from the Frierdiker Rebbe about hisbonenus, and he gives an example. The Frierdiker Rebbe had an exceptional gift for vivid description; everyone knows that. He takes the contemplation of ayin and yesh as his example. That’s the subject. The Frierdiker Rebbe begins by illustrating how a person starts contemplating from below upward. The way he describes it is very interesting. I’m not saying this is what you have to do—I’m just telling you so you can get some sense of what “looking” means. The Frierdiker Rebbe says: a person contemplates and sees a tree. A tree has a whole structure—a trunk, branches, flowers, fruit, and all its details. When someone looks at the tree, he admires its beauty, its size, its trunk, and so on. To him it counts as a reality. Frankly, it’s a tangible reality, right? And it appears

09:11 Speaker 1 Like a solid reality, a substantial reality, a powerful reality. Then he begins to think: this reality did not come into being on its own. Nothing makes itself. The tree could not have made itself. Someone made it. And he reaches the necessary conclusion that there must be a G-dly power, a G-dly ayin, that brought this reality into being. Now, then he says: I call this reality yesh. The—stone, no, the tree, this tree—I call it yesh. The G-dly power I call ayin. That is what we call them, right? That is how we speak in everyday life: yesh and ayin. The tree is the yesh, and the G-dly power is called ayin. Why do I call it ayin? Because I do not see it, because I do not feel it. I can understand why I call the tree yesh. But why do I call the G-dly power ayin? And I call this yesh because I feel it, I can grasp it, I can even touch it. It is yesh. Then I begin to think: wait, perhaps I am making a mistake. I call this yesh because I can grasp and feel it, but is that what makes it real? And I call the ayin “ayin” because I cannot grasp or feel it. But the truth is, if the G-dly ayin is what brings the tree into being, that means the tree itself is not truly real. The tree is something that came into being; it was not here, and now it is. So it turns out that the tree is, in essence, an illusion. It is not truly real; it is something false, not a true reality. In itself, it does not exist. It exists only because a G-dly power is making it. So it is not truly real. And precisely the G-dly ayin that I called

10:57 Speaker 1 ayin is the true reality, because it made the tree. So I have made a mistake. I call the tree yesh and the G-dly power ayin, when it is the other way around. The true yesh, the true reality, is precisely the G-dly ayin. That is the yesh. And what is the ayin? Precisely the tree, because the tree has no existence of its own. Its entire existence comes from the G-dly power. And then, suddenly—and the Frierdiker Rebbe says that when you begin to think about this deeply, to enter into it, you come to the inescapable realization that you have simply been living under a mistaken impression. In other words, in my life I connect with things that are not real, things that are false, things that are an illusion. They are not what they seem. And the true reality, which is G-dliness, I call ayin, even though that is precisely what is real. Then, in the Frierdiker Rebbe’s words, at a certain point a person begins to feel distressed by how flawed his understanding is, by how distorted his perception of things has been. The Frierdiker Rebbe says that this is the beginning of entering the gates of contemplation. That is where you begin; that is the entrance, as he puts it there. Once you begin to feel distressed about the mistake you have been living with—what does that mean? That already falls within the definition of looking deeply. In other words, here it is not just—yes, you can contemplate this idea. It is written about extensively in maamarim, right? There is the lower perspective: below is yesh and Above is ayin; and the higher perspective: Above is yesh and below is ayin. That is the mistake. It is written in Tanya, it is written in maamarim, and you can think about it and say the words. But when you really look at it this way, suddenly you say: wait, then I have been living under a mistaken impression. The way I look at reality is distorted.

12:38 Speaker 1 So the way I understood things until now is not right. Then suddenly the maamar, what is written in Chassidus, becomes a living reality, something you feel in your heart. That is called looking deeply; it is a truer form of contemplation. See, this kind of looking. As for the contemplation the Alter Rebbe speaks of in chapter 41, where he says “in his thought, at least”—the Alter Rebbe is making a distinction here. He is saying that there is contemplation that takes place “in his thought, at least.” For you to have kabbolas ol of the Kingdom of Heaven, which is the beginning, foundation, and root of service, you are not being asked to reach that level of looking deeply. Even contemplation “in his thought, at least,” is enough. That is what is written in chapter 41: “Behold, Hashem stands over him,” and Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the King of kings, and He is the blessed Ein Sof, whose kingship extends over all worlds. Without delving deeply into what all that means and why—fine. What matters here is simply understanding His greatness, the full extent of His greatness, and how, despite all that greatness, He sets everything else aside [unclear]. Thinking about these things leads to the conclusion that if Hakadosh Boruch Hu sets everything else aside for me, then I, too, must devote myself to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, accept Him as my King, serve Him, and do His will in every way a servant serves. In other words, to be G-d-fearing, to have kabbolas ol of the Kingdom of Heaven, contemplation “in his thought, at least,” is sufficient. But to reach love of Hashem, to reach something much more inward—something that requires a change within the soul, a more personal connection with G-dliness—that calls for the kind of contemplation that involves looking deeply. Contemplation with more vitality, more soul, more depth. So, broadly speaking, those are the two approaches. That is my answer to the question you

14:29 Speaker 1 asked. You asked whether the point is to think or to contemplate. If that is what you meant, then you have your answer. There is such a thing as thinking Chassidus: thinking about it, contemplating it on the level of thought. The more you think about ideas in Chassidus, the more effect it has. But if you want a deeper effect on the soul, then it cannot be just contemplation as an exercise in thought. It has to be contemplation in which you enter into the depth of the subject. All right? Of course, generally, when we are speaking here with young bochurim, they do not need to jump straight to thinking on that level. This kind of contemplation, of looking deeply, is not necessarily something we are so ready for yet. But at least we should know it exists. And over time, if a bochur gets used to contemplating Chassidus and thinking about its ideas, he can also reach a more inward, deeper, more personal contemplation of the subject. Actually, the main purpose of thinking Chassidus—ultimately, we would say that this is the main purpose, or at least one of its main purposes—is what Chassidus calls oplayg. So the main purpose of contemplating Chassidus, in our terms, is primarily this matter of oplayg. In Hebrew, oplayg means that it should become settled within a person, right? Settled. Oplaygn—that it settles in. I do not know the exact word. How do you say oplaygn in English? Is there a word? Oplaygn, which becomes like “century,” you know. Like, settle in your mind, like, yeah. No, there’s no such word.

16:35 Speaker 4 Really? “Century” means to point something out.

16:39 Speaker 1 So that’s not a word. No, it should become settled within him. In Chassidus there is the idea of something becoming settled and absorbed, right? In Yiddish we say oplaygn. What does that mean? What is the idea? Chassidus speaks—all the intellectual teachings of Chassidus, everything Chassidus teaches us—are really a revolution, the opposite of what we see. All of Chassidus runs counter to apparent reality. What looks like yesh, it tells you, is ayin. What looks like ayin is yesh. What is physical is, is, is—trash. Chassidus tells you: this is lower, that is higher; higher and lower. Chassidus is constantly turning everything around for you. What you think is the opposite of the truth. Right? So our initial assumption, our first impression, our starting point—the way things are settled in our minds—is the opposite of Chassidus.

17:52 Speaker 4 Paradigm.

17:53 Speaker 1 Huh?

17:53 Speaker 4 Paradigm.

17:55 Speaker 1 Paradigm? Wow. All right, okay. Maybe. Huh? Yeah.

18:04 Speaker 4 We use that now.

18:06 Speaker 1 Okay. The basic assumption of our reality is the opposite of the basic assumption of Chassidus. In the well-known expression of the Alter Rebbe, G-dliness is taken for granted and worlds are something new. That assumption needs to be reversed, right? Chassidus wants to turn our assumption around, so that what seemed new becomes self-evident, and what seemed self-evident becomes something new. What is seen and what is heard, what is heard and what is seen—everything is turned around, in other words. It’s a settled outlook. And the way to arrive at that settled outlook, that assumption, that change, is through contemplation of Chassidus. Right? Contemplating Chassidus: thinking about what a concept means, and then thinking about it again, several times, or thinking about several maamarim. Thinking about Chassidus, contemplating Chassidus—even if you don’t reach the way of seeing things that we spoke about earlier—contemplating concepts in Chassidus, concepts of love of Hashem, concepts of G-dliness, right? That is the goal; that itself is already a settled outlook. Even if it has not yet affected your heart, has not yet brought you to love or to that surging feeling of love for Hashem, your basic outlook, your perspective, changes. The way you see things changes. A person looks at the world through the eyes of Chassidus. He begins to see things differently; his assumptions change. So we can say he has reached the goal. Again, it’s not the final goal. There are other aspects too—middos, feeling, love and awe—but contemplation has a goal. Chassidus itself is already a settled outlook. Right? Chassidus is a settled outlook. That is how it comes into being. The way of looking at things is a perspective, right? The perspective of Chassidus should become my perspective.

19:57 Speaker 4 Everything written in Likkutei Torah about— It’s not that—

20:04 Speaker 1 What is written in Likkutei Torah isn’t the point here. We need to learn Likkutei Torah to know what ought to be. When Likkutei Torah uses language of feeling, right—when you contemplate this, [unclear], the soul’s yearning to expire, “Whom have I in heaven? And besides You I desire nothing on earth,” “My flesh and my heart fail,” “fiery flashes, a flame of G-d,” and all the other expressions it brings there in Likkutei Torah—then you need to think about it in the sense of “this is what one ought to do,” as it says in Tanya, chapter 7. Right? “This is what one ought to do” in Tanya, chapter 7. So the Rebbe says: this is what one ought to do. The Rebbe cites all sorts of descriptions. The Rebbe says a person needs to contemplate all this and know that this is what ought to be. That’s what it’s supposed to be. That’s what “this is what one ought to do” means. That’s how it should be. [Unclear.] But what? We’ve already established the distinction. [Unclear.] Right? Not to fool myself into thinking I’m on that level. Right? Maybe one day it will happen, but even if it doesn’t, that isn’t my level. At the very least, though, I should know that such a thing exists. Right? Sometimes you can be moved by the Alter Rebbe’s inspiration. Understand? You can be moved by the Alter Rebbe’s inspiration, and that may be the most you can take away. Right? For the Alter Rebbe, this was real. In other words, you contemplate it. You say: Likkutei Torah says one must contemplate. I try to contemplate how, in relation to [unclear], all of sovev and everything else is only [unclear], and [unclear]. So you contemplate all that. If there’s no way for him to reach it, and nothing comes of it, then he has learned nothing from it. It remains only Likkutei Torah.

22:14 Speaker 1 It’s [unclear]. Right? You see that the Alter Rebbe reached it. Now I can learn about how [unclear] and all the worlds [unclear], and then go eat [unclear] without any problem. I don’t feel that because I learned about “I, Hashem, have not changed,” the treat now has no taste. It has a taste, and I eat it. I enjoy it in exactly the same way. I’m not at that point. So what has changed? I’m a little ashamed. In other words, at least I know what ought to be. The Alter Rebbe says that [unclear] should lead to such a state. I don’t belong there, but at least I hear that such a thing exists. So at most I can be moved by the Alter Rebbe’s inspiration. Right? That’s the idea. In fact, this is what the Rebbe says in the well-known maamar Ve’atah Tetzaveh, in Sefer Hamaamarim Melukat. What does the Rebbe say in Ve’atah Tetzaveh? He cites the Alter Rebbe’s saying and explains it at length. The Alter Rebbe’s entire avodah was: “I don’t want Your Gan Eden; I don’t want Your World to Come; I want nothing but You Yourself.” For the Alter Rebbe, that was a yearning of the soul to expire. The Alter Rebbe said those words. And the Rebbe says at the end of the maamar that although we do not belong on that level, we have desires—even desires of the animal soul. So what are you saying? Do I understand Gan Eden? Of course I don’t. I don’t want Gan Eden because I don’t understand what Gan Eden is. But tell me I don’t want to eat, that I don’t want some tasty food—I can’t say that. I have no trouble saying, “I don’t want Gan Eden; I don’t want the World to Come,” because I have no idea what they are.

23:56 Speaker 1 But tell me to give up some special dish because of this. Right? You arrive at the dining room and the piece of meat you like is gone, and you get a piece you don’t like—that touches something in your soul. You might say, then, that what it says in the maamar is in vain. It isn’t in vain; I’m just not on that level. But what does the Rebbe say? Although [unclear], it should nevertheless be in your heart. In other words, Chassidus gives us this through study. You learn Tanya, you learn Chassidus, and you know there is something higher. So you’re already a little ashamed of material things. You recognize them for what they are. You’re not quite so immersed in them. It detaches you a little. But to say that you’ll have the fervor, the fiery flashes—between us, [unclear]. Maybe there are people here who belong on that level; perhaps we’ll talk about that. But generally speaking, we need to know the truth about where each of us stands. And this is what the Alter Rebbe said. There’s the well-known question people asked the Alter Rebbe: Why does he speak about levels and values, and so on, that chassidim don’t belong to? The Alter Rebbe answered, “One must have it.” What does “one must have it” mean? [Unclear.] “One must have it”—you need to know. What does it mean? It isn’t merely intellectual knowledge. It isn’t that simple. The Alter Rebbe did not mean, “You learn the ideas and leave the feelings to me.” No, we aren’t that kind of chassidim. When the Alter Rebbe said, “One must have it,” he meant: this is what one ought to do; this is what ought to be. In other words, it needs to be settled in your mind that this is how things ought to be. And so I’m in a world where I haven’t yet reached

25:36 Speaker 1 that point, but I know that this is it. On the contrary, that then affects my thought, speech and action in practice. My conduct will accord with where I’m meant to arrive—with what ought to be.

25:48 Speaker 5 Apart from—apart from... If you contemplate a maamar at length, as you said at the beginning, then aside from its being the teaching of the author of the maamar, what does it help to think through the whole maamar from beginning to end, including the entire exposition of the verse? Why is this here, and why is that there?

26:12 Speaker 1 That’s for the sake of the explanation. It’s relevant to explaining the subject. But because we also want the benefit of studying the Rebbe’s own words, we try to keep it connected to his wording as well. The truth is, though, that you can do one without the other, and from time to time you can alternate. It’s not something you always have to be particular about.