Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 30 - Part 1

00:01 Since it’s been a long time since we studied Tanya, and we had already begun chapter 30, we’ll start the first part again so we can follow the flow of what comes next. We won’t repeat the explanations we already discussed, but we’ll at least take the main point. So the Alter Rebbe begins chapter 30 and says: “Furthermore, he should take to heart the teaching of our Sages: ‘Be humble of spirit before every person.’” This is another point a person needs to contemplate in order to develop a lowly opinion of himself, to have a broken heart, and through that to remove the dullness of heart he has. He does this by contemplating the words of our Sages, “Be humble of spirit before every person.” And he must be so in absolute truth. Being humble of spirit is not merely an outward manner of conduct, showing himself as though he were humble. Rather, as the Alter Rebbe explains here, he must be so in absolute truth: he must genuinely feel it and be truly convinced that he is humble of spirit before every person. And what does “every person” mean? Not just a certain kind of person, but everyone, even the lowest of the low. How can a person do that, especially since we’re speaking here about a beinoni? We’re not speaking about just anyone, a rasha; we’re speaking about someone who has already reached the level of a beinoni in his avodah. Nevertheless, he is told—required—to be humble of spirit in absolute truth before every person, even before the lowest of the low. How can that be? Wouldn’t that, G-d forbid, be untrue? So this is based on the teaching of our Sages. The Alter Rebbe explains it here in light of what our Sages say: “Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place.” When a person

01:58 comes to judge—what does “judge” mean? In the context of what we’re discussing, it means weighing himself against another person, seeing who is greater, himself or the other person, and who should be humble before whom. So there is a judgment to be made. He needs to judge where he stands in comparison with the other person. And about this our Sages say, “Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place.” Don’t judge the other person until you’ve reached his place. What does “place” mean? The Alter Rebbe gives two meanings here: a place in the literal sense, and a place in terms of spiritual level. He explains: “For his place causes him to sin.” If I see that so-and-so is among the lowest of the low, it isn’t simply his own problem. His place causes him to sin. His livelihood requires him... In other words, when I come to judge another Jew and see where he stands, I can’t look only at what he does. I also have to take into account the circumstances, the things around him, the place and the factors that brought him there. This person’s livelihood requires him to go about the marketplace all day and to sit on street corners. His eyes see all sorts of temptations, and “the eye sees and the heart desires.” His yetzer hara burns like a baker’s blazing oven, as it says in Hoshea: “It burns like a flaming fire,” and so on. So this person has two things working against him. In terms of his physical place, he is somewhere with many temptations. He is in the marketplace, a place where it is much harder for a

03:55 person to overcome himself. And besides that, he also has a powerful yetzer hara, an inclination that burns like fire. That too is part of his “place,” meaning his spiritual level. He is at a level where he has a particular yetzer hara that burns like fire. So it is because of both these things—his place physically and his place spiritually—that he sins. That is how we approach the other person. By contrast, consider yourself: the beinoni who goes to the marketplace only a little and spends most of the day at home. By Divine Providence, he doesn’t need to be out in the street to earn a living. He goes to the marketplace only a little and spends most of the day at home. That is the beinoni’s physical place. And even if he does go to the marketplace all day—even if he is a businessman, since there can certainly be a beinoni who is a businessman, who also spends time out in the street—it may be that by nature he is not so easily aroused. His physical place may be the same as the other person’s: he too is a businessman who goes around the marketplace. But spiritually, in terms of his own level and his own yetzer hara, he may not have a yetzer hara as fiery as the other person’s. He doesn’t have that blazing fire. He isn’t so ardent by nature, for the yetzer hara is not the same in every person. Not everyone has the same kind of inclination. For one person, the yetzer hara works through heat; for another, it works through coldness. As the rabbi said earlier, a person may be cold by nature. So when it comes to things connected with desire, with “the eye sees

05:42 and the heart desires,” he doesn’t have that problem, because he may be cold by nature. “The yetzer hara is not the same in every person; there is one whose inclination is...” as explained elsewhere. A person has his own yetzer hara, as we discussed in lesson ten. What do our Sages say? “Who is strong? One who conquers his inclination.” The Baal Shem Tov explains that this means a person must conquer his own inclination. Everyone needs to know what his particular weaknesses are, as we say—which things are hardest for him—and overcome those. That is what it means to be strong: to know how to conquer your own inclination. And that applies here too. One person’s nature is characterized by heat, and another’s by coldness. It’s like the rabbi explains in the well-known sicha in Likkutei Sichos. There the Rebbe explains the matter of a snake and a scorpion. The Gemara says that if a snake is coiled around one’s heel, he should not interrupt, but if a scorpion is coiled around his heel, he should interrupt. What is the difference between a snake and a scorpion? A snake, it says, has a hot nature. In other words, when it injects venom into a person, the venom is hot and burns the body. A scorpion, by contrast, is the opposite: its venom cools the body and sends a chill through it until the body dies from the cold, which is also a form of suffering. And what does the Mishnah say is worse? The scorpion is worse. Coldness is worse than heat. A person with a fiery yetzer hara has the quality of heat. True, it is something bad, because warmth directed toward worldly matters is not good—warmth in the pursuit of desires. But heat also has a great advantage: if you take that heat and bring it into holiness,

07:32 it becomes warmth and enthusiasm, bringing enthusiasm into holiness. So heat itself is a good thing. What do you need to do? Redirect it. That is why he should not interrupt. He doesn’t need to stop; he just needs to take that heat and bring it into holiness. But a person whose nature is cold—coldness is worse. On the contrary, he must interrupt because of that coldness. You can’t do anything with it in holiness. Holiness needs enthusiasm. A person who is cold—even if he is cold toward worldly matters, that isn’t enough when it comes to holiness. He also needs warmth and energy in matters of holiness. So the Rebbe explains the difference between them there at length. That is what the Alter Rebbe alludes to here in those few words about different kinds of inclinations. Every person has a particular yetzer hara. So the beinoni is told: you need to examine your own situation until you’ve reached the other person’s place. You might say, “I’m also a businessman, so I also go to the marketplace.” But it may be that this person is fiery by nature, and therefore the marketplace and everything he sees there cause him far greater torment from his yetzer hara, whereas you are cold by nature and are not affected. That tells us nothing about the true state of things. In the struggle itself, it may be that you don’t face anything like the battle he faces. “Now, in truth, even one whose nature is ardent...” Since the Alter Rebbe has been discussing the reckoning a person must make when judging himself against the lowest of the low, he now pauses to introduce a reckoning for the lowest of the low as well.

09:21 One might think there is a difference when a person is hot-blooded by nature: perhaps he is more likely to sin, and less is expected of him. So the Alter Rebbe immediately explains that this is not the intention. In truth, even someone who is hot-blooded by nature—even someone whose nature is passionate and who earns his living among those who sit on street corners—has no excuse. What does it mean that he “sits on street corners”? Even if he is hot-blooded and earns his living in that sort of environment, it does not give him more of an excuse because he is in a dangerous place. He has no excuse at all, “and he is called a complete rasha because the fear of G-d is not before his eyes.” This person, too, is called a complete rasha. Why? Because the fear of G-d is not before his eyes. For he should have restrained himself and ruled over the spirit of desire in his heart. Even if you are in a marketplace, and even if your yetzer hara burns like fire, you have no excuse. A person must have such strong fear of Heaven that he can overcome all his desires, restraining himself and ruling over the spirit of desire in his heart out of fear of Hashem, Who sees all his deeds—out of fear of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who is watching him and sees what he does, as explained above. As explained above, the mind naturally rules over the heart. So even if a person has a yetzer hara that burns like fire, since the mind rules over the heart, he can use his mind and contemplate that Hakadosh Boruch Hu

11:24 stands before us, and he will therefore be afraid to commit a sin. There is a question here. The connection the Rebbe makes here is very, very interesting. At first, the Alter Rebbe uses the wording of a verse. He says, “And he is called a complete rasha because the fear of G-d is not before his eyes.” “The fear of G-d is not before his eyes” is the wording of a verse in Tehillim, chapter 36. But a line later, the Alter Rebbe says, “He should have restrained himself and ruled over the spirit of desire in his heart out of fear of Hashem.” So the Rebbe’s father, Reb Levi, asks: Why does the Alter Rebbe begin with the words “the fear of G-d is not before his eyes,” and then speak of “fear of Hashem”? The question concerns precisely which Divine Names are used: here he says Elokim, and there he says Hashem. He asks another question: Why the double expression, “restrained himself and ruled”? What is the difference between restraining oneself and ruling? The Alter Rebbe says that because a person fears Heaven, because he feels that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is right before his eyes, he should restrain himself and rule. What is the difference between the two? The Rebbe’s father gives a very interesting explanation. The Gemara says there are two things that lead a person to sin: the eye sees, and the heart desires. This is what is meant by “the eye and the heart are the two agents of sin.” The eye and the heart are the two agents, the two attendants, the two sources that bring a sin about. The eye sees: a person looks where he should not. Then the heart desires, and that leads to sin. What is the difference between the eye and the heart? The eye is an external organ. It is connected with external things, with things outside oneself, with things one sees in the world. The heart is an internal organ. In other words, the eye looks and sees things. Then the heart takes what the eye saw, feels it, responds to it and desires it, and from that comes the yetzer hara. That is the difference between the eye and the heart: the eye is external, while the heart is internal.

13:55 What is the difference between the Name Havayah and the Name Elokim? Havayah represents inwardness; Elokim represents the external dimension. After all, the verse says, “For Havayah Elokim is a sun and a shield,” and so on, as is well known. What is the difference between these Names? Elokim is the Name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu as He is present in the world, in nature. Elokim has the same numerical value as “nature.” Elokim denotes power and judgment; it is the Name that is enclothed in creation, in the world’s external dimension. Havayah, by contrast, is the inner dimension, because Elokim cannot operate on its own. For Elokim to operate, Havayah must be enclothed within it. So what is present within the world? Not only Elokim, but Havayah as well. The Alter Rebbe makes a remarkable point. He says that for a person to have control over his faculties—to restrain himself and keep his eyes from looking where they should not—fear of Elokim is enough. If a person knows that G-dliness is enclothed in nature, that nature itself is sustained by G-dliness, that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in everything and gives it life and existence—that awareness is enough. Even at the level of Elokim, without contemplating anything deeper, he recognizes that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in the world and gives creation life and existence. So through the Name Elokim itself, the fear of Elokim is before his eyes. Because he recognizes that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in the world through the Name Elokim, the fear of Elokim is constantly before his eyes.

16:04 That will keep him from looking where he should not. This is why the verse specifically says, “the fear of Elokim is before his eyes.” It concerns the eyes. To guard his eyes and not look where he should not, it is enough to contemplate the Name Elokim, because the eyes are external; contemplation of the external dimension, of G-dliness as it is enclothed in nature, is sufficient. The heart, however, is different. Suppose a person has already stumbled and looked where he should not. To keep his heart from desiring what he saw, he needs a stronger power, so that he can control his heart as well. Sometimes, may Hashem have mercy, a person stumbles and looks where he should not. He must now work to ensure that, G-d forbid, it has no effect on his heart—that his heart does not desire it. This requires deeper, more inward contemplation, because the heart is an internal organ. Here we are dealing with feeling. It is not enough to contemplate Elokim before his eyes. He needs to contemplate more deeply, so that Havayah, too, is before his eyes. That is a higher level, and it keeps his heart from wanting or desiring it. So at the beginning, when the Alter Rebbe is speaking about the eyes, his wording is “the fear of Elokim is not before his eyes”: he uses the Name Elokim. But afterward, when he speaks about the heart, about “the spirit of desire in his heart,” he says “fear of Hashem.” That is what keeps the desire from entering his heart. It enables him to control his heart so that, even if he looked, G-d forbid, his heart will not desire what he saw. That requires contemplation of the Name Havayah, a more inward matter. So according to this,

17:49 what does “restrain himself and rule” mean? “Restrain himself” means not looking where he should not. And “rule” means that even if he stumbles and looks, he can still rule. Ruling is something more inward: ruling over the heart so that it does not come to desire what it saw. Those are the two expressions, “restrain himself” and “rule.” In later years, the Rebbe once discussed this in a sicha. There are two expressions we find in Chassidus, both based on verses. Sometimes it says, “The fear of Elokim is not before his eyes,” and sometimes, “Elokim is not before his eyes.” At first glance, they mean the same thing. But they do not. “The fear of Elokim is not before his eyes” means that he has no fear of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is not that he does not know Hakadosh Boruch Hu is there; he knows, but he is not afraid. “Elokim is not before his eyes” means that he does not think about Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the first place. He lives without restraint, [unclear]. He simply does not care. The whole matter never crosses his mind. “Elokim is not before his eyes”: he lives like an animal. He pays no attention and does not think about Hakadosh Boruch Hu at all. There is another person who knows that “Elokim is before his eyes,” but is not afraid. The Rebbe said: At first glance, which is worse? “Elokim is not before his eyes.” A person for whom Hakadosh Boruch Hu has no place at all in his life—that seems the worst. By contrast, the other person at least has Elokim before his eyes; he merely lacks fear. But the Rebbe said,

20:06 But in truth, it’s the opposite: “There is no fear of G-d before his eyes” is worse. Why? Because if you know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present, and yet you don’t fear Him—if you know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is right here, and yet it makes no difference to you—then your lack of fear of Heaven is worse. It’s like “one who knows his Master and deliberately rebels against Him.” Look, there’s someone who doesn’t know. But you know, and you rebel anyway, so that’s worse. The Rebbe told a story about Reb Itche der Masmid. He’s well known, Itche der Masmid. Once, at a farbrengen with Karlin chassidim, he had some mashke and began to speak. He said that, as he saw it, a Chabad chossid is “one who knows his Master and deliberately rebels against Him.” Now, imagine saying that phrase about Chabad chassidim. A Karlin chossid said, “What do you mean? Why?” So he answered, “Unlike me—I don’t know my Master; I don’t know anything at all. But a chossid who learns Chassidus knows the truth. He knows his Master. After all, Chassidus teaches us that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present and brings everything into being at every moment, and that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in every detail. He knows the truth, and yet he has no fear of Heaven. So he really is ‘one who knows his Master and deliberately rebels against Him.’” The Rebbe said that the Karlin chossid didn’t like this. He didn’t like that description; he said one shouldn’t speak that way. Nevertheless, the Rebbe said, there is something to it. The Rebbe did accept the point and said that there can be such an intermediate state, where a person learns Chassidus and yet

22:01 it has no effect on him. That is called “one who knows his Master and deliberately rebels against Him.” So that’s the meaning of what it says here: “There is no fear of G-d before his eyes.” It’s not that G-d is not before his eyes. You learn Chassidus, so G-d is before your eyes. When we learn Chassidus, we know that there is nothing besides Him, and that the entire existence of creation is G-dliness—the word of Hashem that brings it into being and gives it life at every moment. We know all these things. But when there is no fear of G-d before his eyes, that is a very serious thing. It’s like “one who knows his Master and deliberately rebels against Him.” So what is the Alter Rebbe telling us here? This is what the Rabbi is saying: a person needs to know that even if his yetzer hara is burning like fire with desire, and even if he is in a place full of all kinds of temptations, like a marketplace and so on, he has no excuse. Fear of Heaven—the fear of G-d before his eyes—must move a person not to do it: to restrain himself, control the animal spirit in his heart, and control himself. Not, not, not to commit a transgression.