Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 39 - Part 7

00:00 Page 2. The discussion at the beginning of chapter 39, after the period. “That is.” What is the Alter Rebbe talking about here? The Alter Rebbe explained at length earlier in this chapter that there are three levels in serving Hashem. There is natural love and fear: when a person awakens them, his soul rises to the world of Yetzirah. There is intellectual love and fear: then his soul rises to the world of Beriah. And there is the level of a chariot: then he is in Atzilus. When he fulfills a mitzvah with natural love and fear, that mitzvah connects him with the Infinite Light as it is invested in the ten sefiros of Yetzirah. The Torah he studies and the mitzvos he fulfills with intellectual love and fear connect him with the Infinite Light revealed in the ten sefiros of Beriah. And when he fulfills Torah and mitzvos as a chariot, they connect him with the Infinite Light revealed in the ten sefiros of Atzilus. This is the Gan Eden that we say the soul receives after it ascends above: the radiance of its Torah and its avodah. What is the radiance of its Torah and avodah? It is the light of the Infinite Light drawn down through the person’s mitzvah. This is the meaning of “the reward of a mitzvah is a mitzvah”: the reward is the drawing down of the Infinite Light through that mitzvah. If it was done with natural love and fear, that is in Yetzirah, in the Infinite Light as it is revealed in the sefiros of Yetzirah; intellectual love and fear are in Beriah; and love and fear on the level of a chariot are revealed in Atzilus, in the Infinite Light revealed in the sefiros of Atzilus. The Alter Rebbe added that “the reward of a mitzvah is a mitzvah” means that from its reward we can know its nature. This means that even now, when he fulfills Torah and mitzvos with natural love and fear, his avodah is in the world of Yetzirah. Gan Eden is only the revelation of what he is doing now. But the essential thing happens now: when I fulfill Torah and mitzvos with natural love and fear, my Torah and mitzvos

02:47 are in the world of Yetzirah. When a person fulfills Torah and mitzvos with intellectual love and fear, he is in the world of Beriah; and similarly, when he does so on the level of a chariot, he is in Atzilus. This also explains what the Alter Rebbe says in Likkutei Amarim about Moshe Rabbeinu standing before Pharaoh. Atzilus was there in that very same physical place. Moshe Rabbeinu stood there, his soul being in Atzilus, while Pharaoh was in the domain of those who draw sustenance from the kelipos. Within the same four cubits, Atzilus stood opposite that kelipah. They appeared to be two people standing in the same place, but in terms of their souls they stood in two different places. Moshe’s soul was in the world of Atzilus, while Pharaoh’s was among those who draw sustenance from the kelipos. In other words, the state to which a person is connected is also where he is right now. That is what it means that from the reward we can know the nature of the mitzvah: the nature of his Torah and mitzvos depends on the intention he has, on the level he is at. But when a person has no awakening of love and fear at all—he does not awaken any kind of love and fear, not even natural love and fear—he fulfills Torah and mitzvos without any awakening of love and fear. He does so only because of the love and fear that every Jew has in the essence of his soul, but he does not awaken them. Every Jew has love and fear in the nature of his soul, but because he did not awaken them, his Torah and mitzvos are not, in practice, performed with an awakening of love and fear. So the Alter Rebbe says that about this, Tikkunei Zohar states: “Torah without fear and love does not soar upward.” What does “does not soar upward” mean? It does not connect with the Infinite Light in the ten sefiros as they are revealed in the four worlds. It remains in the realm of separation. What does “separation” mean? It could be in any world—

04:34 the world of Beriah, the world of Yetzirah, or the world of Asiyah—but not in the ten sefiros of that world, because the awakening of love and fear was missing from his intention in performing the mitzvah. That is what the Alter Rebbe has explained until now. Let’s continue. Now the Alter Rebbe is going to explain several details about avodah that is not for its own sake. The Alter Rebbe began by explaining that when love and fear are lacking, one’s Torah and mitzvos remain in the realm of separation. They do not rise to the ten sefiros; they remain in the realm of separation, the outer dimensions of the worlds, and do not join the union of Hakadosh Boruch Hu with the ten sefiros. So from here until the end of the chapter, the Alter Rebbe explains several details concerning avodah that is not for its own sake. Until now, in other words, he was speaking mainly about avodah for its own sake. Now he discusses different levels of avodah that is not for its own sake. That is, as the Alter Rebbe just said, when Torah and mitzvos are performed without an awakening of love and fear, they remain below, in the realm of separation, and do not unite with the Infinite Light. This is what Tikkunei Zohar means by “does not soar upward”: it does not come before Hakadosh Boruch Hu; it “does not ascend before Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” The Alter Rebbe explains: “That is, even if he does not study for an ulterior motive in the literal sense.” When we say here that a person’s Torah and mitzvos do not connect with the Infinite Light, with the ten sefiros, but remain in the realm of separation, we are not talking about someone who studies Torah with an actual ulterior motive. What does that mean? He studies for some other interest, for another reason or goal. He studies Torah to become important, to gain prestige, to become a Torah scholar, because his yetzer hara drives him to it. That is called Torah study with an ulterior motive. That is not what we are talking about here. What are we talking about? Someone who simply studies. The Alter Rebbe explains: What is his reason for studying? What motivates him? As the verse says, “Their fear of Me has become a commandment of men learned by rote.” The prophet laments that all their fear of Heaven comes from habit. They became accustomed, through their upbringing, to the practices of fearing Heaven: “a commandment of men learned by rote.” From childhood, he was taught to fear Heaven, to observe the Shulchan Aruch, and to study Torah. So he continues on the path on which he was raised as he grows older. The Alter Rebbe says that in such a case, his Torah does not rise upward. This is what the Alter Rebbe said earlier: when he studies Torah without love and fear, it “does not soar upward.” This is the level he means. He does not mean that, G-d forbid, the person studies with bad intentions, with an ulterior motive. Rather, he studies out of habit. He was raised that way and continues that way. What does “a commandment of men learned by rote” mean? The Alter Rebbe explains: “Because of the habit to which he was accustomed from his childhood.” He has been accustomed to it since he was a small child. “Even though his father and teacher trained him and taught him”—his father or his rebbe, his teacher. In other words, they accustomed him to it from childhood. “Trained him” plainly refers to practice, to forming habits; “taught him” relates more to Torah study. “His father and teacher trained him and taught him to fear Hashem and to serve Him”—to have fear of Heaven and serve Hashem through Torah and mitzvos. So that is the level under discussion here: his Torah has not risen upward, and his study is not truly for its own sake. He is not serving Hashem truly for His sake. But on the other hand, you cannot call it studying with an ulterior motive. Why would it be called that? He has no bad intention at all. It is a matter of

06:32 The motivation—what drives him to learn? Rather, it is as the verse says: “Their fear of Me has become a commandment of men learned by rote.” The prophet is complaining that all their fear of Heaven comes from habit. They grew accustomed to matters of fear of Heaven through their upbringing: a commandment of men learned by rote. From early childhood, he was trained to fear Heaven, to observe the Shulchan Aruch, and to learn Torah. So he continues along the path on which he was raised, and that is how he goes on and advances. The Alter Rebbe says that when it is done this way, his Torah is said not to ascend on high. This is what the Alter Rebbe said earlier: when he learned Torah, he did so without love and fear, so it did not soar aloft. That is the level we mean. We do not mean that, G-d forbid, he learns with bad intentions, not for its own sake. Rather, he learns out of habit. He was raised this way and continues this way. What does “a commandment of men learned by rote” mean? The Alter Rebbe explains: because of a habit he acquired from childhood. He had been accustomed to it since he was a small child, because his father and teacher trained and taught him. His father or his rebbe—his teacher—did so. In other words, they accustomed him to it from early childhood. “Trained him,” in its simple meaning, relates to action and forming habits; training is more connected with action. “Taught him” is more connected with Torah study. His father and teacher trained and taught him to fear Hashem and serve Him—to have fear of Heaven and to serve Hashem through Torah and mitzvos. So this is the level we are discussing: his Torah does not ascend on high, and his engagement is not truly for its own sake. He does not serve Hashem truly for His sake. But you cannot call it “not for its own sake,” either. Why would it be “not for its own sake”? He has no bad intention. It is a matter of

08:39 Habit. On the other hand, you can’t call it “for its own sake” either, because he has no feeling of love or fear at all. In this connection, the Rebbe notes here that it was from childhood: he became accustomed to it as a small child. Why specify “from childhood”? What if a person became accustomed to it as an adult? Suppose someone becomes a baal teshuvah at thirty or forty, and then accustoms himself to matters of yiras Shamayim until they, too, become routine for him. That can happen. Some people decide at a certain age—even boys of eighteen, seventeen, or sixteen—that they’re going to start learning. Until then, they had wasted their time, and one day they became baalei teshuvah. Not necessarily baalei teshuvah in the formal sense; anyone can be a baal teshuvah. He decides to learn and daven, to start serving Hashem, and afterward he gets used to it until it becomes a habit. So that, too, is habit. Why does the Alter Rebbe emphasize here that it was “from childhood”? The Rebbe offers two explanations. One explanation could be that the Alter Rebbe uses the language of becoming accustomed because, generally, according to the Torah, the time to accustom a child to Torah and mitzvos is in childhood. That’s the Torah’s way; it isn’t a shortcoming. That’s how it should be according to the Torah: “You shall teach them diligently to your children.” There is the matter of chinuch at age six, five, four, three—different things at different ages. When exactly does the time begin to educate a child in Torah and mitzvos? According to the Torah, a father and teacher must accustom a child to matters of Torah and mitzvos. As it says in the letter of [unclear], from age three they give him long peyos and put tzitzis on him, and teach him

10:23 verses, blessings, and things like that. So according to the Torah, that’s the order: you accustom the child to them. That’s why the Alter Rebbe speaks of childhood. But in truth, this applies to adults too. That’s one possible explanation, the simpler one. On a deeper level, the Rebbe says it may be deliberate that the Alter Rebbe specifies “from childhood.” Because if a person began when he was already an adult, then, plainly, it isn’t the same. When someone begins as an adult, he isn’t starting because it’s his nature. Quite the opposite: for many years he was immersed in something else. So an adult who begins serving Hashem certainly had some feeling of love or fear. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have begun. He’s grown up; he isn’t a little child who does what he’s told. He acts because he feels something—love, fear, or both. And since he began his service of Hashem with a motivation that was for its own sake, with love and fear, perhaps it doesn’t count as mere habit. Even if it later became routine for him, since his service began with love and fear, all the service he does afterward is also considered to have love and fear. It’s like what the Alter Rebbe says later: if a person davens one prayer with kavanah during the year, it elevates all the prayers of that year. In other words, there is such a thing in avodah: one act done for its own sake elevates all the other acts. As we’ll see, there are several details to this. Along those lines, we could say the same here: since this person began as an adult, when he had

12:00 a feeling of love and fear—that’s why he began—it elevates all the Torah he learns afterward. Even so, this remains a question requiring further study: is that true? Is it correct to say this? Can we read it that way, and not [unclear]? In any case, it’s an interesting nuance that the Rebbe points out, even in these matters. Let’s return to our subject. The Alter Rebbe says here that we’re speaking about a person who does not learn “not for its own sake.” He isn’t learning for some other purpose; he has no ulterior motive at all in his learning. But it isn’t “for its own sake” either, because he has no foundation of love for Hashem. So why does he learn? Because he accustomed himself to it, or his father and mother or his teacher accustomed him to it in childhood, and he carried on doing it. That isn’t called “not for its own sake.” Why not? After all, it says here that they accustomed him to fear Hashem. That’s interesting. It doesn’t say they accustomed him to wear tzitzis or wash negel vasser. The verse emphasizes, “Their fear of Me became a commandment learned by rote.” He has fear, too. That’s a remarkable point. Usually, when people explain “a commandment learned by rote,” they mean that when you were a little child, your father got you used to wearing a yarmulke and tzitzis, and to sleeping in tzitzis. You became so used to it that, for you, it involves no service of Hashem at all. It’s like brushing your teeth every morning. Yes, your parents got you used to it; they argued with you about it when you were little, until it became a habit: you have to brush your teeth. Similarly, you have to wash and change clothes, put on pajamas—all sorts of things that become part of your rhythm, part of everyday

13:36 life. So wearing tzitzis and washing negel vasser also became habitual. It’s part of the rhythm—the routine. That’s what people usually mean. But here the emphasis is different. Here it says, “Their fear of Me.” He even has yiras Shamayim. Nevertheless, the Alter Rebbe says that this isn’t called “for its own sake”—not truly “for its own sake.” Why? Because even his yiras Shamayim has become a habit. In other words, it isn’t that he actually feels fear of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, some elevated feeling. Rather, he has fear by habit. Think of children raised in a home where the parents constantly educate them to be careful, to listen to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. They instill yiras Shamayim in them so deeply that it’s in their blood. But over time, that yiras Shamayim becomes habitual. Even though he has fear, it doesn’t necessarily mean that there’s a feeling of G-dliness in it. He’s afraid to commit a sin, afraid that something might fall off the roof if he sins, afraid of—who knows what. That isn’t necessarily yiras Shamayim either; it’s fear that has become habitual. It’s like a person’s fear of a police officer. It doesn’t mean he feels fear of the officer inwardly; it’s a habit, too. Even as a little child, he knew you don’t mess with police officers. It became a given for him that you have to obey the laws of the country. So he has a natural fear that is no longer connected to any particular feeling, any particular reasoning, or any inner response. It’s the same here. That’s what the Alter Rebbe is talking about: even though there is

15:24 fear, it comes from the habit his father and teacher instilled in him, teaching him to be afraid. It isn’t considered “for its own sake.” Why not? What does “for its own sake” require? The Alter Rebbe explains: for service of Hashem to be truly “for its own sake”—meaning, for the sake of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, for the sake of Heaven—“it is impossible without at least an awakening of the natural love and fear.” You can’t serve for its own sake without some feeling of love and fear. Love and fear, but with a feeling in them—not dry love and fear. There has to be some feeling, arising from some understanding. They must be brought “from their concealment in the heart into revelation in the mind and the hidden recesses of the heart, at least.” There has to be some thought, some awakening. Every Jew has natural love and fear in the soul, as we said earlier—love and fear—but without an awakening, there is no feeling in them. Then his yiras Shamayim can become something learned by rote. That isn’t the love and fear being discussed here; it isn’t considered “for its own sake.” When is it considered “for its own sake”? When there is an awakening. The minimum is at least an awakening in the mind, as we said before. There is love and fear revealed in the heart, and that is best. But there can at least be love and fear in the mind. In other words, as we said in chapter 16, in his mind he thinks that this is what he should do: awaken love and fear. That, too, is enough for it to be considered “for its own sake.” At least in his mind, he contemplates Hashem’s greatness and awakens love and fear within himself. True, this is natural love; it isn’t intellectually generated love and fear. But he has to awaken that natural love. Then it is considered “for its own sake.” But when it comes from the love and fear he has inherently

17:19 The soul—and without awakening it, this is considered “a mitzvah performed by rote”; it is not considered lishmah, for its own sake. Because what does lishmah require? It is impossible without love and fear, at least hidden in the recesses of the heart. It is not enough for them to be concealed in the heart; they must be revealed in the mind and, at least, in the recesses of one’s heart. Why? Why aren’t the love and fear a person inherently has enough? Because a person does not do something for a friend in order to fulfill his wishes unless he loves him or fears him. We see this with people: when someone does something for a friend to fulfill that friend’s wishes. If I do something for my friend to fulfill his wishes, I want to do what the other person wants. My friend asks me for something, and I do it to fulfill his wishes. There can be no such thing—working to fulfill another person’s wishes—if you have no love or fear for that person. Of course, sometimes a person acts under compulsion, like a worker, or perhaps out of pity. That’s not what we’re talking about here. Here we’re talking about fulfilling his wishes. I take a particular action because I want to fulfill the other person’s wishes. Why would I want to fulfill my own—his—wishes? There are two reasons: either I love him or I fear him. In other words, there is a feeling of love. You love your friend, and therefore you want to do something good for him. You want to fulfill his wishes. Or you have a sense of awe toward him. That could mean reverence, yes? A sense of respect, awe of his greatness—reverence, respect. Out of that awe, you do something because you want to fulfill his wishes. But there has to be some movement of

19:14 feeling—a feeling of love or a feeling of awe. Without love and awe, you won’t act to fulfill his wishes. That is what the Alter Rebbe is saying here. Observing Torah and mitzvos without any feeling of love or awe is not called doing it for His sake. It may be something else, but it is not for His sake. “For His sake” means I do it for Him, to fulfill His wishes. To act in order to fulfill someone’s wishes, there has to be a feeling of love or awe. And chassidim add that the Alter Rebbe is also alluding here to a chossid’s hiskashrus with the Rebbe. Chassidim would always quote the wording of the analogy the Alter Rebbe gives here. Divine Providence: these words of Tanya appear in the daily Tanya lesson for—who knows? Do you have a Tanya with the schedule printed in it? Hmm? 11 Nissan. In the regular-year cycle, this Tanya lesson is said on 11 Nissan. In a leap year, they say chapter 41. In a regular year, they say this passage of Tanya. What does the Alter Rebbe say here in Tanya? That a person’s service must... When you want to fulfill your friend’s wishes, you do it either because you love him or because you stand in awe of him. In other words, you cannot act for someone else to fulfill his wishes without some feeling of love or awe. This is one of the points chassidim emphasized so much: there needs to be a feeling of love for the Rebbe. A feeling of love, a feeling of awe. In relation to the Rebbe, there also needs to be this element—they speak about a feeling of love. We see in the letters that the Rebbe discusses the love that exists among chassidim. It is the thread connecting chassidim with the Rebbe and the Rebbe with chassidim. It is not limited by time or

21:07 place. There is a feeling of love that a chossid feels toward the Rebbe, and likewise, the Rebbe toward chassidim. There is also the element of awe. A chossid needs to have reverence and bittul toward the Rebbe, because feelings of love and awe are essential to the service itself. They are essential to the service itself. In other words, it is not enough to do mivtzoim, to study Chitas and Rambam, and to do all sorts of other things. If you do them only out of habit, because you have trained yourself to do them, that is not enough. Rather, your actions need to be accompanied by feelings of love and awe. A person does not do something for a friend to fulfill his wishes unless he has some feeling toward him—a feeling of love or awe. The same applies in relation to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. For Torah and mitzvos to be for His sake—that is, for the sake of Hakadosh Boruch Hu—means fulfilling His will. That is what “for His sake” means: I do it to fulfill His will. For it truly to be an act of fulfilling His will, there has to be a feeling of love and a feeling of awe. Otherwise, one cannot truly act for His sake. What does it mean to act truly for His sake? The Alter Rebbe immediately explains: “to fulfill His will alone.” What does it mean to act truly for His sake? It means I have no interest in anything else—no honor, no sense of self, no ulterior motive, no material reward or spiritual reward. I do it solely because that is the Divine will. That is what “for His sake” means: to observe the Torah and mitzvos of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. One cannot be stirred to serve Him for His sake without at least bringing to mind thoughts of

22:58 love and awe. Sometimes a person cannot actually awaken a feeling of love or awe while studying. Ideally, we would feel love and awe, but at the very least, he should think thoughts connected with love. He should think about things that awaken love and things that awaken awe. At any rate, love and awe should be present in his mind. Then he will understand that since Hakadosh Boruch Hu is good, one should love Him, and likewise, one should have awe of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Consequently, one should fulfill everything He wants. That is the minimum needed for service that is lishmah. But when even that is missing, the service cannot be lishmah. It is interesting that in the analogy the Alter Rebbe says “unless he loves him or fears him”—one or the other, love or awe. But in the application, the Alter Rebbe says love and awe. Yes, both are necessary, both love and awe. Both are needed. In other words, to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu in a way that is lishmah, you need both love and awe. Why isn’t love alone enough? The Alter Rebbe adds support for this here, saying: “And love alone is not called service without at least the lower level of awe that is hidden in the heart of every Jew, as will be explained below.” If love alone cannot bring about lishmah, there must be some element of awe—at least the lower level of awe hidden in the heart of every Jew—as will be explained below. The Alter Rebbe is referring here to chapter 41. There he explains that with love alone, one cannot serve Hashem in a way that is lishmah; awe is necessary too. On the other hand, the Alter Rebbe does not explain here: perhaps awe alone is enough? Could there be awe without love? The Alter Rebbe

25:20 does not say. The Alter Rebbe only explains why love alone is not enough. Awe is also needed, but he does not explain why awe alone, without love, would not be enough.