Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 4 - Part 3

00:00 Speaker 1 Okay, we’re discussing yirah here—the fear of Hashem. The Alter Rebbe is speaking about the middos, the emotions. He explains that thought, speech, and action in the Torah’s 613 mitzvos are the garments of the G-dly soul, and the soul is clothed in them. The intellect is clothed in Torah study, and the emotions are clothed in fulfilling mitzvos through action and speech. He goes on to explain that love is clothed in fulfilling mitzvos, especially in “do good,” the 248 positive mitzvos. When a person loves Hashem, he wants to cleave to Hashem. He does that by fulfilling mitzvos, and his love motivates him to fulfill them. And not just to fulfill them, but, as we explained, to fulfill them in earnest—with vitality, with beauty, and in the finest way. That is what he explained about love. Now the Alter Rebbe continues: “And fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions.” He comes to fear, and says that fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions, “for he is afraid to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” Fear is—fear relates more to the 365 prohibitions. Why does fear relate more to prohibitions? Because he is afraid to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A prohibition means refraining from an action: not doing something against Hashem’s will. That is connected with fear. Fear means that he is afraid—afraid to rebel against Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He does not want to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Since he does not want to rebel, he will not do anything against Hashem’s will, and that is the source of observing the 365 prohibitions. But we could ask a simple question: If a person fears Hakadosh Boruch Hu and does not want to rebel against His kingship, then fear is not only the root of the 365 prohibitions. Fear is also

02:31 Speaker 1 a root of the 248 positive mitzvos. If I’m afraid, I don’t want to rebel against His kingship. Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the King of kings, and I don’t want to rebel against His kingship. So does that mean I’ll only avoid transgressions? Won’t it also lead a person to perform the other mitzvos? A person can observe the entire Shulchan Aruch—both “turn away from evil” and “do good,” everything—out of fear. If I fail to recite Shema on time, or I don’t daven, or put on tefillin, or give tzedakah, am I not rebelling against the Kingdom of Heaven? Isn’t that also rebellion? It is. So what does it mean that fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions? It is the root of everything, including the 248 positive mitzvos. In one place in Tanya, and similarly in maamarim in several places, the wording is a little different. In several places it says that love is the root of “do good” and fear is the root of “turn away from evil.” It does not say that love is the root of the 248 positive mitzvos and fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions. That different wording changes the whole meaning. Love is the root of “do good,” and fear is the root of “turn away from evil.” In other words, “turn away from evil” does not mean specifically the 365 prohibitions. It means not doing wrong, and that includes positive mitzvos too. Failing to put on tefillin is also wrong. It includes everything, all 613 mitzvos. “Turn away from evil” means that the reason I observe the entire Shulchan Aruch, all 613 mitzvos, is simply that I don’t want to do wrong and rebel against Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That makes sense. So fear is the root of “turn away from evil.” Fear leads

04:42 Speaker 1 a person to do everything he does because he does not want to do wrong and rebel against Hashem. Love, by contrast, is the root of “do good.” “Do good” does not mean specifically the positive mitzvos. It means doing them in the finest way, as we explained last week—with beauty and vitality. That is what “do good” means: going beyond what is written in the Shulchan Aruch, doing it with extra care and attention to detail. This is explained explicitly in several places in Chassidus. The Alter Rebbe also brings it in Likkutei Torah, in Parshas—I don’t remember now—in Parshas Balak, I don’t remember. This explanation is brought in Chassidus. But here in Tanya the wording is explicitly different. Here in Tanya it says that love is the root of the 248 mitzvos and fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions, emphasizing that fear is connected especially, primarily, with the 365 prohibitions. Why specifically the 365 prohibitions and not the 248 positive mitzvos? One explanation given is that yirah—being a person who fears Heaven, who fears Hakadosh Boruch Hu—helps a person not rebel against His kingship. This applies primarily to prohibitions: not taking an action against Hashem’s will. What does that mean in simple terms? Taking an action against Hashem’s will is rebellion. A person goes and does something against Hashem’s will; that is an act of rebellion. He is actively rebelling against His kingship. With a positive mitzvah, he has the opportunity to fulfill it and does not. Failing to do it does not look quite as much like rebellion. He simply does not act. Granted, that is serious, but where is rebellion against His kingship more apparent? When a person goes out of his way and acts against His will. He takes an action that is

06:58 Speaker 1 against His will—the opposite of His will. That applies specifically to a prohibition. Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells you not to eat a certain food, and you deliberately eat it. Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells you not to desecrate Shabbos, and you deliberately desecrate it. Taking an action against His will—that is rebellion. By contrast, if I have an opportunity to fulfill a mitzvah and do not fulfill it, that may be connected more with laziness. We do not see quite the same act of rebellion in it. That is why the Alter Rebbe says that fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions: being afraid to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, relates more to prohibitions. That is where the act of rebellion is more apparent. Now, today is the Rebbe Rashab’s birthday. We’re already in the month of Cheshvan. So that brings to mind a story about the Rebbe Rashab—an interesting story that is somewhat connected to this point. They tell about the Rebbe Rashab that once—according to one version of the story—he met the Chofetz Chaim. They spoke about various matters. Among other things, the Chofetz Chaim—as everyone knows, his great concern was lashon hara, guarding one’s speech. He worked very hard on the matter of guarding one’s speech. So the Chofetz Chaim told the Rebbe Rashab that there was something he did not understand about chassidim. He said that chassidim are careful to the point of mesirus nefesh about shaving: not touching their beards. When it comes to a beard, they will go to the point of mesirus nefesh. For chassidim, touching one’s beard is utterly unthinkable. The Chofetz Chaim said he did not understand, because touching one’s beard is not considered quite so severe.

09:14 Speaker 1 There is a dispute among the halachic authorities. Some say it is only a rabbinic prohibition, while others say it is a Torah prohibition. No, it is also a Torah prohibition. Some say it is only a stringency. There are various opinions about it. And precisely over this, you go to the point of mesirus nefesh and move heaven and earth. But lashon hara is extremely serious. Whenever a person speaks lashon hara, he transgresses. The Chofetz Chaim famously calculated that each time someone speaks lashon hara, he transgresses thirty-something prohibitions. Lashon hara involves thirty-six prohibitions, I think. There is a whole list of prohibitions connected with speech—it is an extremely serious matter. So why don’t we see such a great commotion about that, while we do about beards? The Rebbe Rashab told him that the difference was this: He was right that, in terms of prohibitions and so on, lashon hara is much more serious. But the difference lies in how a person comes to commit the transgression—how he approaches it. How does a person start speaking lashon hara? Usually, someone does not say to his friend, “Let’s speak lashon hara.” Nobody goes up to someone else and says, “Now we’re going to speak lashon hara.” If you start that way, you lose all interest in it. Usually, people start out learning together. Afterward, they don’t quite feel like stopping, so they begin talking about things that are more important, then less important, until they eventually stumble into lashon hara. That’s how it happens. In other words, the person does not sit down intending to... But to cut off one’s beard—to shave it—he goes to the barber, sits down, and tells him, “Cut...”

11:12 Speaker 1 “From here to there, I’ll get such-and-such,” a certain amount. He goes deliberately and sits down to do it. So he says that is much worse. A person deliberately goes to act against G-d’s will. Nothing could be worse. In terms of a Torah prohibition and the negative commandments and so on, it might not be so severe. But the point is that he goes out of his way to do it deliberately. That is the issue. Now, to get back to our subject, this is explained quite simply, including in Tanya. Why does the Alter Rebbe say here that fear is more connected with the 365 negative commandments? Because rebellion is more pronounced when it comes to a negative commandment. Rebellion against the King is more apparent when a person transgresses a prohibition—when he goes and does something against His will. Now, we could ask the same question from the other direction. Why couldn’t love alone be enough? It’s the same question we asked about fear: why isn’t fear enough for the positive commandments too? We answered that it’s because a person needs to observe them with genuine attachment, vitality, and care, and for that he needs love. But now the question is the other way around: why couldn’t a person have only love of Hashem, without fear, and have that love also help him “turn away from evil”? On the contrary: if I love Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I’ll observe all the mitzvos with care, vitality, and precision. Surely, then, I also won’t commit transgressions. So if I have love of Hashem, why do I also need fear of Hashem? Why doesn’t the Alter Rebbe say that love relates to all 613 mitzvos?

13:10 Speaker 1 Why only to the 248 positive commandments? Chassidus explains that loving Hashem does not necessarily help a person all that much with turning away from evil. Someone who loves Hashem may be meticulous in doing good, but that love won’t necessarily help him as much in turning away from evil. There are several aspects to this. First, a person who is in a state of love loves Hashem and feels close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “Closeness to G-d is good for me.” Along with that feeling can come another thought: Hakadosh Boruch Hu is good, so if I stumble, surely He will forgive, pardon, show mercy, and atone. Precisely because of that feeling of love, a person might stumble in turning away from evil—perhaps transgressing a rabbinic prohibition or doing something else he shouldn’t. Why? Because Hakadosh Boruch Hu loves him. He loves Hashem, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu loves him; they have a good relationship. So what will happen if he slips? Hakadosh Boruch Hu will forgive him. That is why love alone is not enough. It may help him do good: he’ll perform the mitzvos with care and vitality because he loves Hashem. But precisely because of it, he may stumble in some aspect of turning away from evil. For that, one specifically needs fear, not love. We see this plainly, for example, with a child and his father. When the child knows that he loves his father and his father loves him, when they have a loving relationship,

15:13 Speaker 1 sometimes that very thing leads him to be brazen when his father tells him to do something. He feels he can say, “I don’t want to.” Why? Because he knows they have a good relationship. Saying no won’t cost him that relationship; his father will still love him. That is why Chassidus discusses the verse “Out of Egypt I called My son.” Sometimes, when a father sees that his son feels too secure in their closeness and has become rebellious, no longer doing what his father wants, the father distances himself. He gives the son the feeling that he is no longer there for him, as though he has withdrawn. That makes the son afraid and causes him to plead: he wants his father back. This is also explained as it applies to the higher realms. Sometimes, because of the revealed love between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the Jew may stumble in a prohibition. He is then distanced, and that awakens him to what his relationship with Hashem requires. In any case, this is why the Alter Rebbe says that love relates specifically to the 248 positive commandments: love motivates doing good. When love is revealed, it does not necessarily keep a person away from a prohibition. That is one explanation.

16:24 Speaker 2 How does that work?

16:26 Speaker 1 It relates to doing good and to the 248 positive commandments. Because he feels close, he wants to act; the love he has makes him want to do the mitzvah. But when it comes to a prohibition, that love does not necessarily help him. You see, these are two different responses. There is another explanation, another reason why love does not help with turning away from evil. Sometimes, precisely because a Jew’s love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu is revealed, he can stumble in a prohibition. He has such great love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu and such eagerness to fulfill the Divine will that he may not notice that something forbidden is involved. There can be forbidden things along the way, even subtle ones. You can sometimes see this: a person has tremendous enthusiasm and love for a particular mitzvah, and while doing it he commits a transgression because he doesn’t notice—because he lacks fear of Heaven. A striking example is brought regarding Rosh Hashanah when it falls on Shabbos: we are told not to blow the shofar. Why? Out of concern that someone might carry the shofar in the street, carrying it four cubits in the public domain. The well-known question in Chassidus is: What does that mean? Because someone might be foolish and not know better, the entire Jewish people are prevented from blowing the shofar on Shabbos? One explanation is just the opposite: a person could be so stirred by the blowing of the shofar, so absorbed in his enthusiasm for the mitzvah, that he might forget it is

18:42 Speaker 1 Shabbos and go out into the street. In other words, precisely because his love and desire to fulfill the Divine will are revealed, he may stumble in a prohibition. In all his enthusiasm, he forgets. There is actually a story like this about one of the chassidim of the Mitteler Rebbe, Reb Wolf of Zhitomir. They tell of an occasion when Reb Wolf of Zhitomir—he was the brother of... No, not Reb Wolf; what am I saying? Reb Wolf Vilenker. Reb Wolf Vilenker was the brother of Reb Moshe Vilenker. He was a fiery chossid, Reb Wolf Vilenker. They tell that once he traveled to the Tzemach Tzedek for Rosh Hashanah. It was Erev Rosh Hashanah, already afternoon, and he had not yet reached the Rebbe. He was still on the road. Traveling with him was another chossid of the Tzemach Tzedek, Reb Dovid Luria, the rabbi of Bykhov. That was Reb Dovid Luria. You can find his Chiddushei HaRadl printed at the back of editions of the Gemara; anyone who has noticed it will have seen it in several places. He wrote a number of seforim. In any case, he was a chossid of the Tzemach Tzedek and a great rabbi. In short, the two were traveling together in the same wagon. It was Erev Rosh Hashanah, they were on the road, they needed to arrive, and it was getting late. So Reb Wolf Vilenker went over to the wagon driver and quietly said, “Listen, I’ll give you some extra money, but you must drive fast, fast, fast. Don’t stop. Even if the other rabbi tells you to stop, don’t listen to him—keep going.” They needed to reach a Jewish town before Shabbos, before Rosh Hashanah, before Yom Tov. But it was already very late, almost...

20:48 Speaker 1 Sunset was approaching. It had gotten late, and sunset was almost here. Rabbi Dovid Luria began saying, “Nu, we have to stop. We have to stop.” He started shouting at the non-Jewish driver, but the driver didn’t listen. [unclear] In short, they arrived just then, at the last moment, and he was upset. So he shouted at him, “Why did you do such a thing?” Reb [unclear] told him, “Listen, I heard the elder Reb Mendel [unclear] explain the meaning of blowing the shofar. The rabbi explained what blowing the shofar means. I’m not giving up hearing the shofar. We would have stayed back there and missed the shofar, sitting there with a non-Jewish driver. I’m not giving up the shofar. I don’t care about anything else.” That’s just an example of this point. On the one hand, he had tremendous enthusiasm for the shofar and wanted to be there for it. But how could he travel on Shabbos, on Yom Tov? On the other hand, he could forget about the prohibition. So that’s the point: although love arouses a person to do good, at the same time it can sometimes come at the expense of restraint. That’s why we need both. We need love to arouse us to do good, and at the same time we need fear to bring about turning away from evil. Now, since today is the Rebbe Rashab’s birthday, I’ll tell another story about the Rebbe Rashab connected with what we’re learning now. It’s a well-known story, a story connected with fear and with the Rebbe Rashab—with exactly what we’re discussing here

22:43 Speaker 1 in Tanya: the matter of fear. This happened in Rostov, where the Rebbe Rashab lived in his later years. He lived on the second floor of a building, and a non-Jew lived on the first floor. Before Pesach, they needed to kasher the entire kitchen and everything in it. So the Rebbe Rashab stood there kashering the utensils. The Rebbe Rashab was known for being extraordinarily meticulous with mitzvos, and he didn’t rely on anyone else. He stood there himself. In the kitchen were two large barrels of boiling water, which he poured [unclear] over the kitchen and the utensils to kasher them. Everyone was terribly worried, because the houses weren’t built all that well. With so much water being poured, it might seep down to the neighbor and start dripping into his home. They were very afraid the non-Jew would come and complain, shouting about the water. They didn’t know what to do. There was a commotion, but no one had the nerve to approach the Rebbe Rashab and tell him they were afraid of the non-Jew. Finally, the Rebbe Rashab’s daughter-in-law, the wife of the chossid [unclear], approached him. She gathered the courage and said, “Father-in-law, we’re afraid of the one downstairs—that he’ll come and make trouble.” We’re afraid the man downstairs will come and complain. The Rebbe Rashab stopped in the middle of kashering, looked at her, and said, “You’re not afraid of the One Above? You’re afraid of the one

25:03 Speaker 1 below?” It doesn’t work as well in English, but in any case: you’re afraid of the one downstairs, and you’re not afraid of the One Above. This story expresses the point of fear of Heaven. Don’t fear the one below; fear the One Above. Don’t be afraid of external things, things down below. Rather, one’s fear should be, as the author of Tanya says, like someone standing before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Our avodah needs both of these qualities for a Jew to keep Torah and mitzvos as he should, with vitality, and to reach a higher level in both turning away from evil and doing good. We need both dispositions: love, which gives him commitment and vitality in doing good, and fear, which gives him the care and caution needed to turn away from evil.

25:58 Speaker 3 …