Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 37 - Part 4

00:00 The Alter Rebbe explains here that this whole matter of making a dwelling place in the lower realms—the revelation of the light of Ein Sof, blessed be He, that will take place in the future—depends on our actions and our avodah here and now, during the time of galus. He explained that when a person actually performs a mitzvah, through a physical act, this brings about the refinement of the physical world. There is the object used for the mitzvah. He explained earlier that a person takes a physical object belonging to kelipas nogah and uses it for a mitzvah, thereby connecting it to the light of Ein Sof. Then he went on to discuss the person as well: the person performing the mitzvah draws on the power of the vital soul in his body, a power that in itself belongs to kelipas nogah. When he takes those powers—the energy and strength of the body and the animal soul—and invests them in performing the mitzvah, he thereby elevates the kelipas nogah within himself to holiness and connects it to the light of Ein Sof. This applies even to mitzvos that do not depend on physical action. Prayer and the recitation of Shema are mitzvos of the heart, but even there, they are mitzvos involving speech. The Alter Rebbe cites what our Sages say: “Thought is not equivalent to speech.” So one must actually articulate the words aloud. Why this emphasis on speech? As we explained in the previous class, it is not that speech is merely incidental, intermediate, or secondary, as it may be in other contexts. Here, speech is central, because the purpose of the mitzvah is to affect the physical, nogah, and kelipah—to transform them and make them a dwelling place for Ein Sof. That is why speech becomes part of the mitzvah. Even with mitzvos involving speech, such as Shema and prayer, it matters specifically that they be spoken, so that they are invested with the power of physical action. So—

02:14 The Alter Rebbe now continues, in the next line: “That is, the more forcefully one speaks, the more powers of the vital soul one invests and enclothes in these words.” The Alter Rebbe is saying that it is not only the act of speaking itself. Since what matters here is the action—the animal soul and its power—the more forcefully a person speaks, the more of his animal soul’s powers he draws out and uses for holiness. So, so, so, so, so through this he accomplishes more refinement. In other words, the point is not merely to speak, but to speak the words aloud. Specifically by reciting them aloud, he invests more of the animal soul’s powers in them, and consequently there is a greater shift from kelipah to holiness. This is what the verse means when it says, “All my bones shall declare,” and so on. It is about this that the verse says, “All my bones shall declare.” In other words, it says that “all my bones shall declare,” and from there we learn, as is well known, how one should pray. And in Torah study, too, it must be with the entire body: “All my bones shall declare.” It is not enough for a person to say the words in his thoughts, or silently, or in a whisper. When a person prays and learns, it must be “all my bones shall declare”: his entire being, all his limbs, his whole body, must take part in the prayer and the learning. This relates to what we said earlier about investing the powers of the vital soul in one’s learning. In other words, if a person only—only speaks. There are two ways of speaking. A person can speak in a whisper. When a person speaks only in a whisper, right? That means he is not—he—

04:20 is not, he is not speaking aloud, but whispering. Even then, his lips are moving. So on the one hand, he has moved his lips and performed an action with his mouth. Any action a person does—the movement of his lips counts as an action. There is thus an action involving a faculty of the vital soul, and so there is a refinement of kelipas nogah and its elevation to holiness. But the Alter Rebbe also emphasizes that moving one’s lips is not enough. We see another requirement in the words of our Sages, in the verses and in the Midrashim: one must also invest one’s strength. Not just move one’s lips, but bring in the strength of the whole body. That is the precise meaning of “All my bones shall declare.” In other words, it is not just the movement of the lips; one must also engage the powers of the entire body. The sefarim explain that this is the significance of using one’s voice. A person can speak and move his lips, but when he also speaks aloud, that moves not only the mouth but also the internal organs and other parts of the body. In other words, various parts of the body that are not connected with the mouth are involved too. The voice comes from the area of the heart, from various internal organs. So several organs participate when a person pronounces the letters aloud. That is why the Alter Rebbe emphasizes here that when it comes to speaking, the emphasis is not only on the movement of the lips. He stresses that it must be in a manner of “all my bones”—that it should involve every limb, drawing on the powers of the rest of the body as well. And he cites what the Zohar says: “If it is arranged in all 248 limbs, it is retained; and if not, it is not retained.” So our Sages say—

06:02 as well that Torah study must be conducted in a way that all 248 limbs participate. And the Gemara says, “If it is arranged in all 248 limbs, it is retained.” In other words, if a person invests all 248 limbs in his learning, that helps him remember the Torah. “And if not”—if he learns in a whisper—“it is not retained.” There too, in that Gemara, we see the precise point that simply moving one’s lips is not enough. One’s limbs must all participate in the speaking. What is the Gemara discussing there? It tells of Rabbi Meir’s wife, Bruriah, right? She is a well-known woman quoted many times in the Gemara. Once she saw one of the students, and it says that he was learning in a whisper. Now, “learning in a whisper” does not necessarily mean he was learning only in thought. His lips may also have been moving, yet it is still called learning in a whisper. In other words, he was not learning aloud. What was missing was learning with force. He was learning, and his lips may even have been moving, but his voice was missing. So it says in the Gemara that she gave him a kick, right, and told him, “That’s not how you learn.” If you learn that way, you will forget. And it quotes that expression there: “If it is arranged in all 248 limbs, it is retained; and if not, it is not retained.” When one learns in a whisper—what’s “be’itah” in English? Huh? Is that English? “Kick,” yes. So... so, “If it is arranged...” Wait, the Gemara says there—that is what she told him—that if you learn Torah in a whisper, you forget it. To remember the Torah, you need to learn it with all 248 limbs. So from there we see that learning aloud has an advantage. What is the advantage of learning aloud? That is when a person

08:03 He also invests the strength of the limbs, of all the other limbs of the body, and this is called “set out in all 248 limbs.” So what do we see here? Torah study must involve a person putting in the strength of... We see the emphasis in Torah study: a person must put in the strength of the vital soul, the strength of kelipah, of the animal soul, and bring it into holiness. The Alter Rebbe asks here: What is the connection between these ideas? Why does the Gemara say... Why does the Gemara emphasize that the learning is “retained”? “Retained” means remembering it. Why, seemingly, does the Gemara focus on remembering and forgetting? The Gemara says that the advantage of studying Torah aloud is that, through this, a person remembers what he learns. By contrast, if one studies quietly, one forgets. The Gemara there even tells another story about someone who once studied the entire Torah, and after some time he forgot it all. And the Gemara asks why: because he studied quietly. In other words, the Gemara emphasizes that studying Torah aloud is connected with remembering the Torah and not forgetting it. But the question arises: the Alter Rebbe has just explained that the point of studying Torah aloud is to refine kelipah—to refine kelipah by studying aloud, investing the strength of the animal soul and transforming it into holiness. So why doesn’t the Gemara speak about the main point? What does the Gemara say instead—that it has to do with remembering and forgetting? Isn’t the main point of studying Torah aloud to refine the animal soul? So why does the Gemara say it is about forgetting? The Alter Rebbe now comes

09:55 and offers a remarkable insight: they are actually the same thing. Let’s look inside. The Alter Rebbe explains the connection between forgetting and remembering and what we discussed earlier: “For forgetfulness comes from the kelipah of the body and the vital, animal soul.” Why does a person forget? Why does someone study and then forget? We are not talking about a person with some illness that causes memory loss. Sometimes, G-d forbid, a person has an illness and forgets everything. He even forgets whether he ate; he forgets simple things. That is an illness, and it needs treatment. But we are talking about someone who does not forget things that interest him. Yet when it comes to Torah and mitzvos—when he studies Torah—he studies and forgets. Where does this forgetting, specifically in matters of holiness, come from? It comes from kelipah. As the Alter Rebbe says: “For forgetfulness comes from the kelipah of the body and the vital, animal soul, which comes from kelipas nogah.” Forgetfulness stems from the kelipah of the body and the animal soul. They are what cause it. Why? Because they come from kelipas nogah, and that is where forgetfulness comes from. What does that mean? The Alter Rebbe does not explain it here, but it is explained elsewhere. He even explains it in Shulchan Aruch, in the laws of Torah study, where he discusses it at somewhat greater length. The Alter Rebbe explains that forgetfulness belongs to kelipah. Forgetfulness is kelipah. It is not something... Forgetfulness has no place in holiness. Why? As it is written, “There is no forgetting before Your throne of glory.” That is, “before Your throne of glory” refers to matters of the tzaddik and matters of holiness. In holiness, there is no forgetting. Forgetfulness

11:41 comes from the presence of kelipah, which causes a person to forget. Chassidus offers several explanations of the connection between forgetfulness and kelipah, and between remembering and holiness. One straightforward explanation is that holiness is eternal, while forgetting is the absence of permanence. That is the basic idea. Forgetting means that something comes to an end: it exists for a time and then stops. Since holiness is eternal, everything in holiness is lasting; it cannot cease or come to an end, and therefore forgetting has no place there. Kelipah, by contrast, is connected with forgetting. Another point explained in connection with holiness and remembering, and kelipah and forgetting, is that this has to do with inwardness and externality. We see plainly that when a person is inwardly invested in something, he does not forget it. In other words, when it is something he lives with, when he has an inner vitality in it and is connected to it—when his inner self is engaged in it—he will not forget it so easily. What does a person forget? Something he does without vitality. When he does something externally, without enthusiasm, he can forget it. So, simply put, the difference between remembering and forgetting is the difference between inwardness and externality. Something done with inwardness is remembered. Something done externally—why is it forgotten? Because inwardness is connected with the infinite. We return to the same point: inwardness is connected with the infinite,

13:24 and therefore forgetting has no place there. Externality involves limitation, so forgetting is possible there. This is also connected with holiness and kelipah. Holiness contains the innermost vitality—the very inner life, the inward aspect of the life of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Holiness receives its vitality from inwardness, and therefore forgetting has no place there. Kelipah, by contrast, receives its vitality from externality, and therefore it is subject to limitation and cessation, to forgetting. In any case, what do we see? The animal soul is associated with forgetfulness. By contrast, before His throne of glory—on a level above the kelipos, in a place of holiness—forgetting has no place. So when a person studies using the strength of his body, he takes the strength of the body and the animal soul, which belong to kelipah, and brings it into holiness. This is what the Alter Rebbe concludes here: “It is sometimes incorporated into holiness, namely, when one weakens their strength and brings all their strength into holiness.” When a person studies aloud, with his mouth and his voice, he does two things. First, he weakens their strength: he breaks and diminishes the power of kelipah. Second, he takes the strength of kelipah and brings it into holiness, thereby nullifying the entire presence of kelipah and the sitra achra. Once he nullifies kelipah and the sitra achra, there is remembrance, and he does not forget. In other words, kelipah is the cause of forgetting. Studying aloud breaks kelipah and, more than that, brings its strength into holiness. The whole presence of kelipah is thereby nullified. And therefore, on

15:10 Studying Torah aloud makes it “set in all 248 limbs and retained”: a person remembers what he learns and does not forget it. So this answers the question as follows. The Gemara says that Torah must be studied aloud, with the mouth, because that helps a person remember what he learns. That is not a side point. We asked: Seemingly, the main point is missing. After all, the main reason to study Torah aloud is that the mitzvah is performed with the mouth. The whole point is to refine the body. Yet the Gemara speaks about forgetting and remembering. According to the Alter Rebbe’s explanation, this is not a side point. The fact that, when Torah is “set in all 248 limbs,” it is retained is connected to the refinement of the animal soul. In other words, the sign that he has refined the animal soul is that he does not forget what he learns. If that refinement had not taken place, he would forget, because of the kelipah. Once he has refined the animal soul, he therefore does not forget. So when the Gemara says that studying Torah aloud should bring about remembrance, it is speaking about the same thing the Alter Rebbe explained earlier: studying Torah with the mouth is connected to refining the kelipah, the animal soul. It is interesting, though, that elsewhere—in commentaries on the Gemara, and even in Chassidus itself—we find other explanations. Why does a person need to study aloud, through speech? Chassidus offers a number of other explanations. For example, in the first maamar of 5659, which some of the bochurim have studied, the Rebbe Rashab discusses the advantages of studying specifically through speech. Speaking adds greater depth to the subject, as well as breadth and scope. There are all kinds of advantages

17:05 to studying specifically through speech. In other words, elsewhere we see additional advantages that Torah study gains when it is spoken aloud. Yes. That explanation is also connected to what we discussed in the previous class. It depends on how you look at speech. If you speak of it in terms of the various advantages and added completeness it brings, then speech is not the main thing. The main thing is the Torah study itself—the analysis and understanding. But speech helps that analysis. What is its advantage? By saying the words aloud, you gain more appreciation, greater depth and greater breadth. And there, too, the point about [unclear] and the voice seems to present speech as a means to something else. By contrast, the Alter Rebbe’s whole point here—what is new in his explanation—is that the goal is speech itself, not speech as a means to something else. Why? Because speech refines the animal soul. Accordingly, when the Gemara says that speaking helps a person not forget what he learns, that, too, is connected to refining the animal soul. That is the result of refining it. The practical lesson from what the Alter Rebbe says here is how important it is for Torah study, the recitation of Shema and davening to be done specifically aloud, through speech. This is not just a matter of making a sound; it has practical significance. Sometimes you see people who are not careful about this. In study, for instance, they let their study partner do the reading

18:50 while they themselves just sit and listen to what their study partner is learning. For all the advantages of that, they miss out on the great advantage of studying Torah aloud, with their own mouths. Conversely, you sometimes see a bochur studying on his own who studies in a whisper. He should study aloud. The same applies to davening. There are people who, while davening, do not even notice that they have forgotten to move their lips. That is already a case of [unclear]. But there are also people who move their lips without saying the words aloud. One must “let his ears hear what his mouth says.” When a person davens, he should at least be able to hear what he himself is saying. Speaking aloud matters greatly. As the Alter Rebbe explains here, there is a reason davening and Torah study must specifically be aloud. There is a story about the Rebbe, for example. A bochur once wrote to the Rebbe that he did not have a study partner. The Rebbe told him to study on his own for as long as he had no study partner—but to study aloud, and even to translate what he was learning into Yiddish. The Rebbe told him to picture a study partner sitting before him and imagine that he was explaining what he was learning to him. That would help him, so that when studying on his own he would not miss out on the advantage of a study partner. I know who the person in that story was, the one to whom the Rebbe said this. In any case, some people here may even know him, because the way he studies aloud is well known. In any case, that is what the Rebbe told him:

20:49 to study aloud. It should also be stressed that when the Alter Rebbe says here that one should study aloud, and speaks about the value of using a strong voice, some people think that means one has to shout. They reason that if speaking in a loud voice accomplishes more, one should shout. But one must also understand that the intention here is not to shout and make a great deal of noise. The main point is that a person’s own voice should awaken him, so that he studies with all the faculties of his body engaged. It does not mean shouting in a way that disturbs others. There is also a story about this involving the Rebbe and the grandfather of the shliach, the tamim Wolf. Reb Ephraim Wolf was a very chassidic Jew and one of the Rebbe’s important people in Eretz Yisroel. Reb Ephraim Wolf, as the story goes, came from a non-Chabad family, grew close to Chassidus and came to study at Tomchei Temimim. When he davened, he did so loudly. You could hear him throughout the area; he davened in a very loud voice. The Rebbe brought him close, and the first time he entered yechidus, the Rebbe told him: “One should daven aloud, but only the person davening needs to hear it. Others do not need to hear. One should daven aloud, but in a way that no one else hears.” In other words, there is a need to study Torah and daven aloud, but the voice should be loud enough for the person himself to hear, not for others to hear. Certainly, though, davening and studying must be done aloud, because, as the Alter Rebbe explains here, that is specifically what brings about the refinement of the body and the animal soul.

22:50 [unclear]. The Alter Rebbe continues and says: This is another fundamental point. What are we starting now? What is this other fundamental point that the Alter Rebbe is coming to explain? After all, he has already explained everything up to this point. He has explained the whole advantage of mitzvos: through them, we refine the physical object, and also the person, by investing the energy of the animal soul. That is the whole point of performing a mitzvah: to invest energy from the body and the animal soul and elevate it to holiness. So you have already discussed all of that. What is missing? The third point we explained in one of the classes. First, the Alter Rebbe explained the matter of the object used for a mitzvah: a person takes an object from the world and uses it for a mitzvah. It goes from kelipah to holiness. Second, there is the person who performs the mitzvah, whose animal soul is involved while he performs it. Similarly, when he speaks words of Torah and prayer, he takes something from kelipah and transforms it into holiness. The question is: What happens to the rest of the world? There is a vast world full of things that are never used for a mitzvah. What happens to that vast world outside the mitzvah? How is it elevated, and is it elevated at all? How do we make a dwelling place in the lower realms? After all, we have to bring about a dwelling place in the lower realms throughout the world. That is what the Alter Rebbe begins to explain now, in this passage. In other words, when he says, “This is another fundamental point,” he means that besides what we have discussed until now, there is something more. Besides the effect a person has on his own animal soul, elevating it from kelipah to holiness, there is another wonderful advantage here: the energy of the vital soul invested in the letters of speech in Torah study and prayer and the like, or in practical mitzvos—the energy of

24:39 the animal soul that participates in all these mitzvos, whether mitzvos performed through speech or through action—derives all its growth and vitality from the blood, which comes from kelipas nogah itself. The entire existence of the animal soul, all its growth and vitality—where does that come from? From the blood. That is how it works: a person eats, the food becomes blood, and the blood gives him the energy and vitality to do his work, to pray. So all the growth and vitality of the animal soul comes from the blood, which is from kelipas nogah itself. The blood is literally kelipas nogah. Why? Because it comes from all the food and drink he consumed, which became blood. The blood is formed from the food and drink a person consumed. In other words, there is the very body and animal soul of a Jew, which the Alter Rebbe said earlier in Tanya also come from kelipas nogah. But since a Jew’s body is a holy body, its very constitution places it in the higher levels of nogah, not so much in its lower levels. That is another point the Alter Rebbe adds. But the growth of the body and animal soul comes from the blood, and that blood is kelipas nogah itself, because it comes from eating and drinking—from physical things outside the person, from food and drink that exist outside him, which he eats and drinks and which become blood. They had been under its dominion: the food and drink the person consumed had been under the dominion of kelipas nogah before he consumed them, and they drew their vitality from it. Now that vitality is transformed from evil to good. “It” refers to the vitality. The blood is transformed from evil to good and incorporated into holiness through the energy of the vital soul that grows from it. Now, when a person performs a mitzvah, this blood—

26:44 and this blood comes from the food and drink the person consumed—its entire reality is transformed from evil to good and incorporated into holiness, as it is invested in these letters or in this action, which are the innermost expression of His blessed will, without any concealment. It follows that when a person performs a mitzvah, not only is the animal soul of his body elevated to holiness, but the blood that comes from food and drink belonging to kelipas nogah is elevated as well. So now the idea of a dwelling place in the lower realms extends further. It is not only the person, and not only the physical object used for the mitzvah—such as this particular money given to tzedakah—and not only the person’s body and animal soul. Now all the food and drink and other things he took in earlier, which became blood and part of him, are also elevated and transformed into holiness. Afterward, the Alter Rebbe will continue and explain how this includes not only these things but everything else as well. In a moment we will see [unclear]: “which are the innermost expression of His blessed will”; and their vitality is also incorporated in His blessed will, and it is His blessed will, and their vitality is incorporated in it, as is the energy of the vital soul. That is as far as we will go. So in this third point, the Alter Rebbe explains how all the food and drink a person consumes throughout the day is also elevated through the mitzvah he performs. Let us tell one short story and end with that. It is a story told about the Rashbatz. It is well known, and it is an interesting story connected to our subject. The Rashbatz was a great chossid of the Tzemach Tzedek, and so on. They say that once he was sitting with chassidim at a farbrengen, and in the middle of the night they ran out of farbeysen—food to accompany the farbrengen. They had nothing more to eat as they continued the farbrengen. What did the Rashbatz do? He took the—the goat he had outside. There was

28:34 some sort of goat there; I do not know exactly. They had an animal that was their livelihood. They got milk from it, which they sold, and that was how they earned a living. But they needed farbeysen for the farbrengen. They took the goat, put it on the table, and slaughtered it properly, according to halachah. One of the chassidim there knew how to slaughter. They slaughtered it and made asado. In short, they had farbeysen until morning. Morning came, and his wife got up and wanted to milk the goat so they would have something to drink. She found it was gone. Gone from the house—the goat had disappeared. She came inside and, in short, saw the bones. She understood what had happened. She began shouting in front of all the chassidim, “What have you done? What did you do? You killed my goat, you killed my goat!” He said, “No, the goat isn’t dead. It’s alive.” Of course, by then he was tipsy after a lot of mashke. She was shouting at him, and he kept telling her, “The goat isn’t dead. It’s alive.” “What do you mean, it’s alive? Look what happened here! It’s gone, and here are all the bones. You certainly...” But he went on insisting that the goat was not dead; it was alive. What had happened? He told her that before, last night, the goat had been alive and had cried, “Meh, meh, meh!” Now the goat was still alive, but instead it was crying, “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” What did he mean? Quite simply, it had become part of our flesh—the flesh of the chassidim. Now, with the strength we get from the meat we ate, we will pray and say Shema Yisroel, and the goat will cry Shema Yisroel together with us. That is the point of the story: he took a goat that belonged to kelipah and cried, “Meh, meh, meh,” and transformed it into holiness. Now it cries Shema Yisroel.