Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 39 - Part 8

00:02 So the Rebbe begins explaining here that there has to be intention. There has to be love and fear, which has been the whole explanation of the chapter up to this point. It is specifically through love and fear that the Torah and mitzvah a person fulfills ascend. But if he engages in Torah and mitzvos not for their own sake—what does “not for their own sake” mean? The Alter Rebbe says it does not necessarily mean that he has some particular ulterior motive. Rather, he does it out of habit. In other words, we are speaking about someone who does not act for their own sake, but does not specifically act with an ulterior motive either. He simply serves Hashem out of the habit he developed of serving Hashem, loving Hashem, and fearing and standing in awe of Hashem. He was accustomed to this from childhood. So the Alter Rebbe said that in such a case, his Torah and mitzvos do not ascend above. Because it cannot be service for its own sake—that is, to fulfill the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu—if there is no arousal of love and fear in it. They ascend with an arousal of love and fear [unclear]. That is why there has to be avodah. So the Rebbe concludes here that love alone is not enough. There also has to be fear. Why? As he explains below, love on its own, without fear, is not called avodah. What does he mean? And why does he add this here at all? What he explains below is in chapter 41. There the Alter Rebbe explains why the beginning of avodah must specifically be fear. Even when it comes to “do good,” where we say that one must do good—which comes specifically through love, the love that leads a person to do good—even there, the Alter Rebbe says that fear must come first. Fear is the foundation of everything. So the Rebbe explains why. Because there is

02:16 a point here: the Torah says, “And you shall serve.” The Torah says, “And you shall serve Hashem your G-d,” and service is specifically a matter of fear, because avodah means servitude. It is a matter of bittul, like a servant who is subservient to his master. If his service comes only through love, he will not have a feeling of servitude. Love is a feeling in which one’s sense of self expands. He feels close; he feels good about it. So if all his service of Hashem comes only from love, the element of servitude is missing. The Torah says, “And you shall serve Hashem your G-d,” not “And you shall love.” That is, the Torah emphasizes that there has to be a feeling of bittul, a feeling of servitude, in serving Hashem. This is what the Rebbe emphasizes here: love alone is not enough. There must also be fear, because it is specifically through fear that it is called avodah. Without it, it is not called avodah. The Rebbe explains this even further. In his explanations of chapter 41, the Rebbe explains why this matters so much. All right, the Torah says it—but why, in itself, is it so important that there be fear, that there be avodah? In other words, what is wrong if he loves Hashem and serves Hashem out of love? Why does the Torah specifically emphasize servitude and bittul? So the Rebbe explains it simply: for a mitzvah to create a bond and connection between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu, since there is no comparison between a created being and the Creator, as long as he remains with love alone—and love is an expansion of his sense of self—he remains within the realm of a created being. And a created being and the Creator have no common measure. Therefore, his Torah and mitzvos cannot create a bond and connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu; he remains within the realm of a created being. It is specifically when one begins—the beginning, the essence, and the root of avodah—with an intention of

04:13 fear that he brings about an attitude of bittul within himself. Bittul makes him a vessel for G-dliness, and therefore his mitzvos can create a bond and connection. Understand? With love alone, there is still a sense of self. It cannot connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A created being and the Creator are beyond comparison. A sense of self cannot reach G-dliness. To reach G-dliness, there must be some bittul, and bittul comes specifically through fear. That is why it matters so much that the beginning of avodah be specifically fear. Why does the Alter Rebbe bring this in here? Why does he introduce fear here in relation to what he says below? Because the Alter Rebbe emphasizes here that there must specifically be love and fear, as the Zohar puts it: “Without fear and love, it does not ascend above.” There must be both love and fear, the two together. At first glance, this is not clear from the analogy of one person and another. In that analogy, the Alter Rebbe said explicitly that either love or fear is enough. He says that for a person to do something for his friend—or for... what exactly is the wording? Yes, his friend—to do something for his friend, to fulfill his wishes, and to do it only because it is what his friend wants, not out of personal interest, he must have either love or fear. So either love or fear is enough. He does not need both. But with Hashem, we say that serving Hashem specifically requires love and fear. Fear, specifically. The question is: love is enough. Why is fear also needed? Because the idea of doing something truly for its own sake—what the Alter Rebbe says about serving Hashem in order to fulfill His will, truly for His sake—is specifically connected with love, not fear. Why? Because the Alter—

06:05 the Alter Rebbe explained earlier, in chapter 4, that specifically when a person has love of Hashem, his avodah is genuine avodah. It is truly for its own sake. That is the difference between love and fear. The Alter Rebbe explained in chapter 4 of Tanya: “And one cannot truly cleave to Him except through fulfilling the Torah and mitzvos.” Torah and mitzvos are what create the true connection between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So accordingly, since the Alter Rebbe is speaking here about avodah for its own sake, truly for its own sake—that is, a person genuinely serves Hashem to fulfill His will and to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu—and since the main thing in this is love, why isn’t it enough for a person to arouse love? Wouldn’t that itself be enough for his avodah to be truly for its own sake? From the fact that he says “love and fear,” it follows that love is not enough. Fear is also needed. So the Alter Rebbe now explains why fear is needed too. As we are saying, love alone is not enough, because without fear, something is lacking in the love itself. So what, then, is the answer? Why are both love and fear needed in serving Hashem? Hmm? Why are both love and fear needed? “Torah without fear and love does not ascend above.” Both love and fear are needed in serving Hashem; one of them is not enough. Love is needed for the service to be truly for His sake—for a person to genuinely act for Hashem. That comes through arousing the feeling of love, because love means that he wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is what it means to act truly for His sake. And fear is needed for there to be bittul. If there is love alone,

07:51 bittul will be lacking, and avodah will be lacking. For the love to have this element of bittul, one must also add fear. That is why both love and fear are needed; they are, then, two distinct elements. Another point: there is an interesting detail in the Alter Rebbe’s description here of a person who was accustomed to this from childhood. The Alter Rebbe says that his father and teacher accustomed him “to fear Hashem and serve Him.” The Alter Rebbe does not mention love. He does not write that they accustomed him from childhood to love Hashem. They accustomed him from childhood to fear Hashem and serve Hashem. When it comes to love of Hashem, the Alter Rebbe does not address it or say anything about it. The same is true in the plain wording of the verse. The verse says, “[unclear].” It mentions fear, not love. That itself raises a question: why, indeed, is love not mentioned? So the Rebbe explains in the maamar [unclear], the well-known maamar [unclear], that there is a major difference between love and fear. A person can be accustomed to fear. Love is something one has to work at, something one has to toil to attain. There is a difference between fear and love. Fear can be natural. Now, friends, there can also be a natural fear of Heaven. Some people have a natural fear of Heaven. That is, they were brought up that way from a young age. The idea of Hakadosh Boruch Hu was instilled in them. The idea that “Hashem stands over him” was instilled in them—in whatever language and terms were used to teach them about Hakadosh Boruch Hu and how one must serve Him. And it became natural for them to be afraid of committing a transgression. Everyone, after all, has some measure of fear of Heaven. For one person, fear of Heaven shows itself in the fact that he is afraid to

09:58 To eat pork, to eat chametz, and to commit the sin of idol worship—serious sins. Right? If someone’s parents educated him from childhood about other matters as well, then he has that same feeling about those too. Yes. In other words, fear of Heaven can be natural. Love is not natural. Our natural love is for things of this world. Love is something we have to attain. We have to work at it. It takes a special explanation to awaken love; it cannot come naturally. The reason is that fear involves bittul. This connects with what we said earlier. Fear means bittul, holding oneself back. A person can hold himself back without changing who he is at his core. Fear does not require him to change his essential character. He might actually be in a very poor state. He might be coarse, full of desires, with a strong yetzer. Fear does not depend on what kind of person he is. Fear means recognizing that there are consequences. There is “an eye that sees and an ear that hears.” So if you accustom a child from an early age to the idea that there is an eye that sees and an ear that hears, just as you can teach a child to be afraid of the police—right?—that does not require any special depth of soul or special sensitivity. You just have to tell him from a young age: Listen, if you do certain things, there are police; they’ll take you away. Things like that influence how a person acts. It does not depend on changing who he is. He only needs to accept that this world has an Owner, that there is an eye that sees and an ear that hears. That is why the Rebbe spoke so much about the moment of silence.

11:40 The Rebbe wanted to bring the moment of silence to the entire world, including non-Jews, so that there would be education throughout the world, instilling from an early age the idea that there is an eye that sees and an ear that hears. The Rebbe maintained that this could save the entire world. That is if we can bring people to fear of Heaven. But love means a person has to become convinced. Love means I have to change something inside myself. To love something, I have to feel a connection to it. I have to feel that it relates to me, that I am connected to it. That already requires an additional, special explanation. To begin with, I have to leave behind other things that I love. So it does not come about through habit; it has to be attained. That is why the Alter Rebbe says here that a person can be G-d-fearing from childhood, whereas love does not come from habit. It must be attained through exertion of the soul and exertion of the body. One more thought before we go on. I heard this from several people, but I heard Rabbi Yoel say that Reb Shlomo Boruch would say it often when he wanted to call out the boys who did not learn but put on all sorts of displays of being chassidim, top-notch chassidim, that sort of thing. He would say that Tanya says: “Torah without fear and love does not soar upward.” And he had a saying about putting the punctuation in the right place. Not quite like that. How should we say what the Sages say? What does the Zohar say? “Torah—none.” He has no Torah. “And love—none.” He doesn’t have that either. But what does he have? “Soars upward”—he’s flying high! Yes, he has no learning; he doesn’t learn, he has no fear of Heaven. But “soars upward”—he’s flying high: “I’m a chossid,” and so on, and he knows everything. He has his approaches and his opinions. He knows how to dismiss someone else, too.

13:35 He doesn’t learn and he doesn’t daven; the main thing is that he “soars upward.” Rabbi Yoel would often call this out. He would call out the boys who thought they were top-notch chassidim and had an opinion about everything. They would run all the politics and everything else. So he would call out: “Torah—none!” They don’t learn, they don’t daven, “but he soars upward!” The main thing is that he’s somebody. What kind of thing is that? We continue in Tanya, page 53b, six lines from the bottom: “Or he studies for an ulterior motive in the full sense.” Now the Alter Rebbe is going to discuss a person who serves Hashem for an ulterior motive in the full sense. Again, the Alter Rebbe has discussed what service for its own sake should be like. He discussed several levels of this, including service motivated by fear and so on. Then he discussed service that is not for its own sake, but is also not done for an ulterior motive—it comes from habit, established from childhood. He spoke about that earlier. Yes, in that case it remains on the external level. I’m not saying it does not unite with the sefiros; he says at the end that it does. Now he begins discussing a third level: when a person studies for an ulterior motive in the full sense. What does that mean? He studies with some personal interest in mind. It is not just that he is not thinking about fulfilling the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, that he is not thinking about it at all. He is actually thinking about something else—a personal motive. Here he gives an example: “For his own honor, such as to become a Torah scholar, and the like.” For instance, someone studies Torah because he wants to become a prominent person, a Torah scholar, and through his studies perhaps become a rosh yeshivah. Okay, so he has a motive that comes from kelipas nogah, a particular personal interest.

15:37 That motive is connected with kelipas nogah, because we are not talking here about outright evil. Why is it kelipas nogah? Because he wants to become a Torah scholar. There are other motives connected with worse things. There are, but the Alter Rebbe does not address them here at all. Why? Because here the Alter Rebbe is not speaking about someone on such a low level. This is a book for beinonim. But a person might, for example, study because he wants to show off, to become arrogant about his learning. That is a matter of pride. Or worse, he might study in order to provoke. That means he wants to bring proofs from the Torah against the Torah. That is actually studying Torah in order to use it to confuse people, to interfere, to go against the Torah. There are all sorts of such levels, which already belong to the three impure kelipos. The Alter Rebbe specifically takes a narrower example here, one that belongs more to nogah: becoming a Torah scholar. Right? Although in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, in Hilchos Talmud Torah, he also reproduces this entire section. This whole passage appears there too, in slightly different wording, and there the Alter Rebbe writes that even someone who studies in order to provoke must still study, and so on—as the Alter Rebbe is about to explain here. But here the Alter Rebbe does not give such an extreme example. He speaks of someone who studies “for his own honor, such as to become a Torah scholar, and the like.” Then a personal motive arising from kelipas nogah becomes vested in his Torah study. The motive becomes vested in his Torah, and the Torah is in a state of exile within the kelipah. At that time, the Torah is in exile within the kelipah, because he has clothed the Torah in it. That is what is called... Yes, the Rebbe

17:23 The Rebbe Rashab discusses this at length in Kuntres Eitz Hachayim. Yes, the Torah scholar has dressed the Torah in sackcloth. He took the Torah, which is the wisdom and will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and clothed it in sackcloth—in kelipah, through a calculation of personal honor. So the Torah he studies is, for the time being, within kelipah, until he does teshuvah. The Alter Rebbe says this is only for the time being. In other words, G-d forbid, it does not mean that the Torah itself becomes kelipah. Torah remains Torah. This is the well-known point mentioned many times in Chassidus: Torah cannot become impure. Whatever its state, Torah is always above exile. In its essence, it always remains what it is. As the saying goes, “Are not My words like fire?” Torah cannot become impure; it remains holy. But in relation to the person, the Torah is clothed in a garment of kelipah. And the wording of the Gemara is: “It becomes an elixir of death for him.” It doesn’t say that it becomes an elixir of death; it becomes one for him. In other words, in relation to the person, the Torah is in a state of kelipah. You see, the Torah is clothed—and that is only for the time being. It is not, G-d forbid, a change in its essence. It is not like a mitzvah performed through a transgression, where the mitzvah itself is not a mitzvah, as the Alter Rebbe discussed in chapter 37. In that case, it cannot be elevated at all. Here, no: Torah remains Torah. It only becomes an elixir of death for him, clothed in a garment of nogah, and only for the time being, until he does teshuvah, which brings healing to the world. Until the person takes himself in hand and does teshuvah—and teshuvah brings healing to the world. When he returns to Hashem, his Torah returns with him. The moment a person returns to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the Torah he studied returns along with him. It is not that he now has to

19:15 start learning it all over again. What he learns anew is another matter. But the Torah he learned before—he learned it in order to be a Torah scholar. He therefore studied Torah shelo lishmah, not for its own sake, and that Torah became clothed in kelipah. Nevertheless, the Alter Rebbe says, it is not that he has to study that Torah all over again because the earlier study was worth nothing. On the contrary, Torah remains Torah, and the moment he does teshuvah and regrets having studied in order to become a Torah scholar, he elevates all the Torah he studied during that time, when he was studying with ulterior motives. All that Torah ascends. And this is why our Sages said, “A person should always engage…” Now we can understand what our Sages say: “A person should always engage…” What is their wording? Let’s read from the beginning of the passage: “A person should always engage in Torah study shelo lishmah, for from shelo lishmah he will come to lishmah.” Now, you cannot say—honestly, otherwise the Gemara is hard to understand—that this simply means a person should study Torah shelo lishmah only after the fact: if it happened, it happened. No. The Gemara says “always,” as though it is speaking from the outset. Its wording makes it sound like this is what one should do: “A person should always engage in Torah study shelo lishmah.” A person should study, as though this were the proper course from the outset. Why? Because from shelo lishmah he will come to lishmah. What is the reasoning? If you say that the very Torah you study shelo lishmah enters kelipah, how can you tell someone from the outset to add vitality to the kelipos? That is one of the questions. But according to what we have explained here, the moment he does teshuvah, all the Torah he studied ascends with him. He has something that ascends along with him. So this is what the Gemara means: “A person should always

21:03 engage.” A person should study even if, in his present state, the only thing drawing him to learn is a motive of shelo lishmah. Even then, he should always study. Why? Because in the end, that Torah too will ascend. That is why the Gemara tells him to study even in that way from the outset. We do not tell a person, “Hey, wait—until you study Torah with a genuine intention for the sake of Heaven, don’t study.” We do not say that. We tell him, “No, study, even if it is shelo lishmah.” Why? Because when he does teshuvah, he will elevate all that Torah. And who says he will do teshuvah? Ah, perhaps he won’t? The Alter Rebbe continues: “For from shelo lishmah he will certainly come to lishmah.” In the Gemara, this is not in doubt. The Gemara is certain he will come to lishmah. Why? Because he will certainly do teshuvah eventually, whether in this incarnation or another. Eventually he will certainly do teshuvah. If it does not happen in this incarnation, it will certainly happen in another. And the Rebbe explains the meaning of “another incarnation”: it does not necessarily mean that he will die and have to come down into the world again. Although, on a straightforward reading, that is the meaning: sometimes a soul must come down into the world again, and in that incarnation it can rectify the Torah it studied shelo lishmah in its previous incarnation. Of course, that is the straightforward meaning. But the Rebbe brings out something deeper: sometimes there can be “another incarnation” even within this incarnation. In other words, sometimes a person changes his conduct in the middle of his life. He makes such a profound change: he does teshuvah, he awakens, he changes from one extreme to the other. That, too, is called another incarnation within this incarnation. In other words,

22:49 it is as though he has begun a new period in his life, and that, too, is called another incarnation. That is what is meant by “in this incarnation or in another.” That is how the Rebbe explains it, drawing on the deeper meaning of the words. For “no one banished from Him will remain banished.” It is clear that no one will remain distant from G-dliness. Eventually everyone will do teshuvah, and therefore the Torah tells you: At first, even if you have not yet reached lishmah, study shelo lishmah. “A person should always engage.” Why? Because eventually he will certainly do teshuvah. No one will remain banished; he will do teshuvah. Then all the Torah he studied in that earlier “incarnation,” the Torah he studied shelo lishmah, will be elevated. That is regarding a person who studies shelo lishmah with an intention that is not lishmah. We say that, for the time being, his Torah also descends into the kelipos. But only for the time being, because the moment he does teshuvah, it ascends. And the Rebbe adds another point that he does not emphasize here: not only does teshuvah cause it to ascend, but, as is always explained regarding teshuvah, teshuvah elevates things to an even higher level. It turns them into merits. Teshuvah causes it to rise to a level higher even than it was before. So this, too, is why “a person should always engage.” When he does teshuvah and elevates his Torah, that Torah will then have the added quality of teshuvah. That is the idea of “a person should always engage.” This is regarding someone who studies shelo lishmah. Now he continues: “But when he studies simply without lishmah, yet not shelo lishmah…” What happens when a person studies? He is returning to what he said earlier. What if a person studies without any particular intention? He does not study Torah shelo lishmah for pride, to become a Torah scholar, or for personal honor. But neither does he study Torah for the sake of Hakadosh

24:33 Boruch Hu, to elevate the letters. He just studies. In that situation, it does not enter kelipah, but it is not united with holiness either. What happens then? It is simply not lishmah, but not shelo lishmah. What does that mean? “The matter does not depend on teshuvah.” Here, teshuvah is not required. Teshuvah is needed when he studied for his desires or for personal honor; then he needs teshuvah to elevate the Torah he studied earlier. But if he studied Torah without any particular intention—neither lishmah nor shelo lishmah—what must he do to elevate that Torah? He does not need teshuvah. Why? Because there was nothing opposing it. He simply studied. He did not study shelo lishmah, so teshuvah does not apply here. But what do I do if I want to elevate all the Torah I studied without any particular intention, the Torah I studied out of habit? I want to elevate that Torah and connect it to the Ein Sof. The Alter Rebbe says that the answer is not teshuvah. “The matter does not depend on teshuvah, but rather, as soon as he goes back and studies this subject lishmah…” The moment I study that same subject again, this time lishmah, “then what he studied without any particular intention is also drawn along and included in this study.” When I study that same subject—that particular maamar, or that same topic—again lishmah, I elevate not only my study now, but my earlier study as well. “What he studied without any particular intention is also drawn along and included in this study, and it soars upward.” It ascends. Why is teshuvah not needed here? Why is it enough simply to go back and study the same thing? Why is teshuvah unnecessary? “Because it has not yet become clothed in”

26:11 No kelipas nogah at all, because kelipas nogah has not yet become involved in it. So there’s something interesting here. If a person studies Torah not for its own sake—for pride, for honor, to become a Torah scholar—what must he do for all the Torah he studied for that purpose to be elevated? Teshuvah. And the moment he does teshuvah, all the Torah he learned before is elevated. But if a person simply studied Torah without any particular intention, he doesn’t need to do teshuvah, because no kelipah was involved. On the other hand, how does he rectify the Torah he studied in the past? He has to go back and study everything again. That’s even harder! So there’s something interesting here: in a certain sense, it’s harder to rectify Torah that a person studied without any particular intention, neither for its own sake nor for an ulterior motive. If you studied for an ulterior motive, you do teshuvah once, and all the Torah you previously studied is elevated. But when you simply study, teshuvah isn’t what elevates the Torah, because no kelipah was involved. What do I have to do? Go back and study everything I previously studied without any particular intention, and only then is that earlier Torah elevated. So in a certain sense, this makes it harder. Why is that? What is the explanation? Why, when a person studies Torah with an ulterior motive, do we say that teshuvah alone is enough and he doesn’t have to study it again? The Rebbe says the explanation is simple: the whole point of teshuvah is that it elevates the things that were not good and raises

27:47 all the sparks to holiness, and so on. That is what teshuvah does. So when a person does teshuvah for a particular sin, all the sparks of holiness caught up in that sin rise and return to holiness. Consequently, the Torah caught up in it rises too. By contrast, when there was no sin, teshuvah is not what’s needed. What does he have to do? He has to rectify each part individually, so it takes longer. This is precisely the power of teshuvah: in a single moment, it can transform everything that came before into holiness. And therefore, “A person should always engage…” The Alter Rebbe returns here to “A person should always engage…” What does that mean? Now he’s speaking about someone who studies Torah without any particular intention. “A person should always engage” applies to him too. Why should a person always study, even when he’s studying without any particular intention—neither for its own sake nor for an ulterior motive? Because even if right now he isn’t in the mood to study Torah for its own sake and is studying merely out of habit, he should still study. Why? Because later, when he goes back over that material, one way or another, and studies it for its own sake, he will also elevate the Torah he is now studying without any particular intention. So the Rebbe cites the same teaching of our Sages twice, but gives two explanations for two different situations. A person who studies for an ulterior motive should nevertheless engage in Torah study, because what he studied for an ulterior motive can be elevated through teshuvah. And then, “A person should always engage…”

29:23 The second time, too, it refers to elevation. In what situation? Even when he’s studying without any particular intention, he should still study. Why? Because when he later studies the same material for its own sake, he elevates everything he studied before. The same applies to prayer without proper intention. If a person prays without proper intention for a period of time, and later prays that same prayer with proper intention, he elevates the prayers he previously said without proper intention. But the Tanya doesn’t explain prayer here; it only mentions it briefly. The Alter Rebbe explains it at greater length in Kuntres Acharon, at the end of Tanya. There he explains that it is possible to elevate the prayers of an entire year: if, over the course of the year, a person has even one prayer with proper intention, it elevates all the prayers of that year. But that’s for those who need a discount. Of course, this is only after the fact. Ideally, we should try to pray with proper intention every time; but after the fact, that is how it works.