Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 40 - Part 9

00:01 On page 110, in the last gloss, the Alter Rebbe briefly touches on Torah study. Studying Torah also draws down the Ein Sof into the various worlds, depending on what a person studies. If he studies Chumash, the Written Torah, Mikra, he draws down the Ein Sof into the ten sefiros of the world of Asiyah. Mikra is connected with Asiyah. For one thing, its content deals with events and actions. The whole Chumash is, as it were, a narrative of events: what Hakadosh Boruch Hu and Moshe said, and so on. It is written as events that took place in the world of Asiyah, and “a verse does not depart from its plain meaning.” It concerns things connected with the world of Asiyah—events that actually happened, involving Adam Harishon and Moshe Rabbeinu. So Mikra extends into the world of action. Also, by its very nature, the Written Torah is associated with action. Its main force lies in the act itself, in the defined act of reading. Therefore, according to halachah, if a person reads the Written Torah without understanding what he is reading, he still fulfills the act of reading Mikra. The main thing is the reading, the letters themselves. So studying Mikra draws the Ein Sof down into Asiyah. Studying Mishnah draws the Ein Sof down into Yetzirah, because Yetzirah is the world of middos, and Mishnah is associated with middos: definitive rulings—liable or exempt, forbidden or kosher—which are an expression of middos. Studying Talmud draws the Ein Sof down into the ten sefiros of Beriah, into the world of Beriah, the world of binah. That is the main character of Talmud: Talmud is binah. It consists of questions and resolutions, understanding and analysis. Studying Kabbalah, then, draws it down into Atzilus. In other words, through the study of Kabbalah, the light of the Ein Sof is drawn down only into Atzilus. But the Rebbe asks: How can that be? How can we say that Mikra, the Written Torah, is the lowest? Surely the Written Torah

02:22 is the loftiest. So he explains that this is not about which is higher and which is lower. It emphasizes how far the Ein Sof can extend. The source of the entire Torah is in the world of Atzilus. You surely remember that we learned this—well, we learned it in [unclear], at the end of chapter 7. Yes, it is already there in the maamar for Shavuos: the Torah, all of it, is primarily in Atzilus. The question, rather, is how far it extends. Mikra extends from Atzilus all the way to Asiyah; Mishnah extends to Yetzirah; Gemara to Beriah; and Kabbalah remains in Atzilus. So you cannot use this to raise a question about which part of Torah is higher or lower. I am talking here about something else entirely. I am talking about where, and into which worlds, all the powers within me are drawn. But what is the point of this gloss in the context of the discussion? Why does the Alter Rebbe bring it here, following what he said earlier? Earlier, throughout the chapter in Tanya, the Alter Rebbe spoke about ascent from below upward. He explained that the intention, the love and awe, elevates the mitzvah a person performs. When a person performs a mitzvah, he connects with Hashem’s Essence. But because the mitzvah involves something physical, it remains in the world of Asiyah, without revelation. When he fulfills it with a spiritual element as well, with love and awe, that spiritual element—the love and awe with which he performs the mitzvah—elevates the mitzvah to a higher world: Yetzirah, Beriah, or, in the same way, Atzilus. It depends on what kind of love and awe he has: natural love and awe, intellectually generated love and awe, or the state of a merkavah. That discussion concerns the ascent of the mitzvah: its physical aspect is elevated to a more spiritual world so that the Ein Sof can be revealed in it. In the gloss, by contrast, he is speaking about a drawing down from above

04:16 to below. In other words, he is now speaking mainly about Torah study, not so much about love and awe or the intention accompanying a mitzvah. He is saying that Torah study draws the Ein Sof down from above to below. In that context he says that studying Mikra draws it down primarily into Asiyah, Mishnah into Yetzirah, Talmud into Beriah, and Kabbalah into Atzilus. In light of this—I am not quite sure how to explain it—this explains why the Alter Rebbe also mentions the world of Asiyah here. In the main text of Tanya, the Alter Rebbe discussed drawing the Ein Sof, through love and awe, into the sefiros of Yetzirah, Beriah, and Atzilus. He never mentioned the sefiros of Asiyah. Nowhere in these chapters of Tanya—not in chapter 38, 39, or 40—when speaking about the intention accompanying a mitzvah, does the Alter Rebbe mention reaching the sefiros of Asiyah. He speaks about the sefiros of Yetzirah, Beriah, and Atzilus. Natural love and awe reach Yetzirah; intellectually generated love and awe reach Beriah; and the state of a merkavah reaches Atzilus. He never mentions what happens with the sefiros of Asiyah. There are sefiros of holiness in Asiyah too. Why does he not mention them? Simply because the Alter Rebbe is speaking here about love and awe, and love and awe do not belong to the world of Asiyah. That is not what the world of Asiyah is about. Love and awe belong to Yetzirah. Natural love and awe are in Yetzirah; intellectually generated love and awe are in Beriah. By contrast, the world of Asiyah—even its sefiros—is not associated with love and awe. It is associated with practical mitzvos, with malchus. What was it? What is the difference between—what is the difference between Yetzirah and Asiyah? In the world of Yetzirah, Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s middos shine; in the world of Asiyah, the aspect of malchus shines. Malchus

06:13 is connected with actions, not with Havayah. So it would not be fitting to speak here about the world of Asiyah. That is why, until now, the Alter Rebbe has not mentioned elevating a mitzvah to the sefiros of Asiyah at all. Here in the gloss, though, the Alter Rebbe is speaking more along the lines of drawing down, not along the lines of revelation or the intention accompanying a mitzvah, which elevates the mitzvah to a higher level. Throughout the gloss, he is speaking about drawing down the Ein Sof by studying Mikra, Mishnah, and so on. So here the Alter Rebbe mentions that there is also a drawing down into Asiyah. Through studying Mikra, since Mikra is connected with actions, we draw down the Ein Sof into the sefiros of Asiyah. That, in general, is the difference between what is written in the gloss and what is written in the main text of Tanya. All right, one more point here before we continue. In connection with what the Alter Rebbe says about Kabbalah—in connection with what the Alter Rebbe says about Kabbalah, [unclear] from Atzilus of the worlds of Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah, as it says in Pri Etz Chaim, that Kabbalah is in Atzilus. This is interesting in itself and worth knowing. Pri Etz Chaim says that on Shabbos we recite, “Ascribe to Hashem”—the psalm of David: “Ascribe to Hashem, sons of the mighty; ascribe to Hashem glory and strength; ascribe to Hashem the glory of His name.” After that it says, “Bow to Hashem in the splendor of holiness.” So “ascribe” appears three times. Then it says, “Bow to Hashem in the splendor of holiness.” Yes, that is what it says. I mean—fine—“Bow to Hashem in the splendor of holiness.” So Pri Etz Chaim writes that the three occurrences of “ascribe” correspond to Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah. On Shabbos, on Friday night, the worlds ascend. So the three occurrences of “ascribe” correspond to the three worlds of Beriah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah. “Ascribe to Hashem, sons of the mighty”—“sons of the mighty” refers to the angels in the world of Asiyah. “Strength” refers to the world of Yetzirah, and “the glory of His name” to the world of Beriah. And it says

08:20 “Havu”—“give”—is an expression of ascent, as though giving something the ability to rise. And “havu” has the numerical value of “echad,” one. So oneness somehow becomes revealed in the three worlds. That is only a numerical connection. Then it says, “Bow before Hashem in the splendor of holiness.” This refers to the ascents in the world of Atzilus. On Shabbos, the ascent reaches the world of Atzilus. Bowing means bittul, the nullification of one’s sense of self; it is the bittul of Atzilus. “Bow before Hashem in the splendor of holiness”—the words form an acronym for Kabbalah, with the letters rearranged. This is the source for Kabbalah. It is connected with the world of Atzilus. That is why he writes that on Shabbos one should study Kabbalah. They say that throughout the week the Arizal would spend two-thirds of his study time on the revealed dimension of Torah and one-third on Kabbalah. On Shabbos he would reverse it: two-thirds Kabbalah and one-third the revealed dimension. Kabbalah is especially important on Shabbos, because Shabbos is connected with the world of Atzilus. So “Bow before Hashem in the splendor of holiness” points to Kabbalah. That is what he brings from here: Kabbalah belongs to Atzilus. So when studying Kabbalah, there needs to be Atzilus. Now the question is: What exactly is Chassidus? He does not mention Chassidus here—what about Chassidus? There is the well-known sicha of the Rebbe, “On the Essence of Chassidus.” The Rebbe explains that Chassidus is the fifth level, yechidah. That is what Chassidus is: the fifth level, above Atzilus, associated with Keser—the inner dimension of Keser. This is what the Rebbe Rashab explains in the maamarim of 5672: the purpose of the teachings of Chassidus is to draw down a new light from Radla. In other words, it is a matter of Keser, the inner dimension of Keser. That is the fifth level of Torah. And so we see that Chassidus speaks about all four dimensions

10:04 of Torah. Chassidus addresses pshat, remez, drush, and sod. Chassidus brings all the explanations and interpretations together and gives them life, as the Rebbe explains at length in “On the Essence of Chassidus.” All right, let’s continue inside. At the bottom of page 110, five lines from the bottom: “Now, although love and fear are also among the 613 mitzvos…” The Alter Rebbe asks: What have we just explained? That love and fear are only wings. They are not the main thing; the mitzvah is the main thing. Love and fear are the wings that lift the mitzvah upward, to a higher spiritual level. But the Alter Rebbe asks: Love and fear are themselves mitzvos. So why do you make them into wings? We said that the 613 mitzvos are the body of the bird. Yet love of Hashem and fear of Hashem are also among those 613 mitzvos. How does that fit together? “Now, although love and fear are also among the 613 mitzvos, they are nevertheless called wings.” In relation to the other mitzvos, love and fear are called wings, even though, considered individually, they too are part of the body. But there is no contradiction. Why? Because the purpose of love is avodah. That is what the Alter Rebbe wants to teach us. Love is indeed one of the 248 positive mitzvos. But when is love a mitzvah? When it leads to avodah. In other words, love is a mitzvah when it leads to action. Love alone, without avodah, is not enough. What the Torah wants to teach us here about the definition of the mitzvah of love is that it must be the kind of love that leads a person to act, to actually do something. Because

12:29 ultimately, the purpose of love is avodah. That is why he calls love “wings.” As we said earlier, wings are not an end in themselves; they are there to lift the bird. The same is true here. The definition of the mitzvah of love—every mitzvah has its own defining requirements. Take the mitzvah of putting on tefillin: there are all the prescribed details of how tefillin must be put on. Every mitzvah has particular requirements. Some mitzvos are defined entirely by a physical act. Others involve both an act and intention. The mitzvah of davening, for example, has two parts. There is the spoken part of davening, which is why it is sometimes included among the mitzvos performed through speech. And there is the feeling of the heart in davening, which is also part of the mitzvah. After all, davening is avodah of the heart. Each mitzvah, then, has its own definition and requirements. So here we are being taught why love and fear are called wings, even though they are also among the 613 mitzvos. It teaches us that love is defined by leading to avodah. When does a person fulfill the mitzvah of loving Hashem? Suppose a person feels love and says, “I love Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” You often meet a Jew who tells you, “I’m a Jew in my heart. I’m a Jew in my heart. I have Yiddishkeit and Hakadosh Boruch Hu in my heart.” So he loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu, loves the Torah, loves the mitzvos—but does not observe them. Love without avodah is not love. In other words, love, by its very definition, requires that avodah also come

14:08 from it. That is a requirement of love itself. The point is not merely that it is a requirement of avodah. There are two ways you could put it. You could say that this is a requirement of avodah, while love is a separate matter. Why would it be a requirement of serving Hashem? Because if you want your service of Hashem to be complete, it needs love and fear. A person can perform mitzvos in a dry way, and we tell him: No. A mitzvah without intention is like a body without a soul. The mitzvah needs to be accompanied by a feeling of love and fear. That would make love and fear a requirement of the mitzvah. Here the Rebbe adds a new point about love itself: love must be such that it leads to avodah. When is love called love of Hashem? When it leads the person to avodah. Where is this alluded to? In the fact that love and fear are called wings, even though they are among the 613 mitzvos. Because love is defined by its leading to avodah—and if it does not lead to avodah, it is not love—that is why it is called “wings.” This is a major insight into the whole subject of love. In Likkutei Sichos, the Rebbe discusses it in depth. There are several approaches to the question: What defines the mitzvah of love? Here, though, the Rebbe explains plainly that love is defined by its leading to avodah. There are a number of places in Likkutei Sichos that make a similar point. One of them is well known. The Rebbe discusses several things there, but one of them is this idea of a defining requirement. The Rebbe brings an interesting halachah that the Rambam writes in the laws of Chanukah. The Rambam writes that if a person has enough money to buy either a Chanukah candle or a Shabbos candle, but not both, he must buy the Shabbos candle. Why? The Rambam says that the Shabbos candle is for peace in the home, so it takes precedence over the Chanukah candle. Great is peace, for the entire Torah was given to bring peace to the world. And the Rambam writes this in the laws of Chanukah. So the Rebbe asks: Seemingly, the Rambam should have written it in the laws of Shabbos, not in the laws of Chanukah. After all, the point being stressed here is that the Shabbos candle is more important than the Chanukah candle. All the more reason to write it in the laws of Shabbos! Why write it in the laws of Chanukah? The Rebbe explains that this is not a requirement arising from Shabbos; it is a requirement arising from Chanukah. The Rambam wants to tell us that the ruling to buy a Shabbos candle instead of a Chanukah candle is not a law about Shabbos. It follows from the laws of Chanukah themselves. Chanukah tells you that if you have money for only one candle, you should buy a Shabbos candle. Since the entire Torah was given to bring peace to the world—and that is how the Rambam continues—the laws of Chanukah were also given to bring peace to the world. So the laws of Chanukah themselves tell you to buy a Shabbos candle when you cannot afford both. That is the Rebbe’s insight, yes? And you see the same thing here: it is a requirement of love itself that it bring a person to avodah.

16:07 The purpose is avodah, whereas love without avodah is love of delights. When a person experiences love alone, without avodah, that is called love of delights. [unclear] Love of delights means that he delights in Hakadosh Boruch Hu,

18:02 But he doesn’t need anything. You see, that is the definition of delight. The books explain that there are generally two kinds of love, right? There is love like flames of fire, called love in the form of thirst, and there is love in the form of delight. What is the difference between them? Love in the form of thirst means that a person lacks G-dliness; he is thirsty. In other words, he is in a state of being distant from G-dliness and is searching for it. So he thirsts for it. That means he is still outside G-dliness and wants to connect with it. Love in the form of delight, by contrast, means that he is already there. He is no longer searching for anything. He and G-dliness have already become one. Delight means that a person reaches a state in which he lacks nothing. Why? Because he is within G-dliness. He is within... So when a person experiences love in the form of delight, that love is no longer a matter of avodah. He is not in a state of being outside G-dliness and needing to search for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He already—he already—he is already one with G-dliness. In that state, the love is not a love that leads to avodah. Why? The love itself is the goal. But that is not the love that leads to—this is not the mitzvah of love. The mitzvah of love is a command given to a person who is not yet experiencing love. Love in the form of delight cannot be commanded; it is no longer in the category of a command. He has already united with G-dliness; he has become one with it. A command means that there is someone being commanded to love.

19:45 So when we speak of the mitzvah of love, we mean a love that leads to avodah. It must lead to Torah and mitzvos, because only then can a person satisfy his thirst for G-dliness. That is love in the form of thirst. Love in the form of delight, by contrast, is not a mitzvah. It is no longer in the category of a mitzvah, because there is no longer a commander and someone commanded. There is no lover and beloved, no two separate things. He and G-dliness have become one. And so, “tomorrow, to receive their reward.” That love belongs to the category of reward, not to the category of a mitzvah or avodah. “Today, to do them.” Here he says, “Today, to do.” The point is what is demanded of a Jew: the avodah of the beinoni. What we have been discussing all along is not receiving a reward. [unclear] when he writes about the mitzvah of love. So what kind of love is commanded? A love connected with doing—not a love that takes the form of reward or delight, but a love connected with doing, one that leads to action. “Today, to do them, and tomorrow, to receive their reward”: reward belongs to tomorrow. That is not what we are dealing with here. Here in Tanya we are speaking about a love connected with this world. The Alter Rebbe is continuing the point he began in chapter 35: “For the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” What the Torah demands of a person, of the beinoni, of each and every Jew, is the “in your heart” that is connected with “to do it.” Because that is the task: “Today, to do them.” And when we speak of “today, to do them,” what defines this love? It is not love

21:34 for its own sake. What defines it is that it serves as a means to avodah, that it awakens a person to the matter of “in your mouth.” The Rebbe also explains this point here: love and fear are not ends in themselves. Here they are a means to avodah, to carrying out the avodah. Accordingly, we can understand something the Rebbe discusses in Likkutei Sichos: why love and fear are called “the ways of Hashem.” It is a well-known sicha. The Rebbe explains why Torah and mitzvos are called “the ways of Hashem”—sorry, love and fear. What is the point of calling them “the ways of Hashem”? The Rebbe focuses on the wording the Rambam uses in his book. Why call love and fear “the ways of Hashem”? Because a way is not the destination; it is a means. A road is not the destination. It is a means of reaching somewhere else. There is the performance of mitzvos, and there are love and fear. Through performing mitzvos, the Infinite Himself is drawn down. That is what we discussed in the preceding chapters: drawing down Hakadosh Boruch Hu. How is a dwelling place in the lower realms brought about? Primarily through actual performance. But “the ways of Hashem”—the way is the means through which revelation is drawn down. That way is love and fear. They make the mitzvah something alive, something uplifting, on a higher plane. This is the whole point the Rebbe has explained until now. So this is what the Alter Rebbe is saying here: the practical point is to serve out of love. Love and fear themselves are not the goal; they are only “the ways of Hashem.” They are the way to awaken a person to fulfill the mitzvah, and to fulfill it with life. Then it will not only draw down the Infinite; the Infinite will also be revealed, as we explained in Igeres Hakodesh. And similarly,

23:57 the Rebbe explains why love and fear are called silver and gold. We find them called silver and gold many times. Love is associated with silver, kesef, from the expression “I have yearned deeply.” And gold is associated with fear. Why is gold associated with fear? Because of the verse, “From the north comes gold.” Gold comes from the north, and north is the left side of the four directions. South is the right side; north is the left. That is where gold belongs. In other words, the left side, which is fear, is associated with gold. So silver and gold appear many times. When Moshiach comes, it says, “their silver and their gold with them.” Rabbi Dovid would add: their silver and gold means love and fear. [unclear] But “their silver and gold” also means, in a spiritual sense, love and fear. The Rebbe explains why silver and gold represent love and fear. It is the same point: silver and gold are not the goal; they are a means. There is no purpose in silver and gold for their own sake. Some people devote all their efforts to having more money in the bank. That is how they measure themselves. But the truth is that silver and gold are not ends in themselves. They are a means to another end. A person can buy and sell, do business with them, make a profit. The profit is what he gains from them—not the silver and gold themselves. Likewise, love and fear are a means. The goal is not love and fear for their own sake. There was once a letter the Rebbe wrote to someone who complained: Why do we give children Chanukah gelt? Some people have a problem with raising children using money. Yes, you even hear that today. Some people maintain, on principle, that children should not be given money as gifts, because it could spoil them. They might come to think money is everything—all sorts of arguments. So some make a point of giving children gifts instead of money. But someone asked the Rebbe: Why, on Chanukah, do we specifically emphasize giving money—Chanukah gelt—rather than gifts? The Rebbe gave him a very interesting explanation.

25:52 The Rebbe explained that there is a reason we specifically give a child money for Chanukah: Chanukah is a festival of education. The word Chanukah is related to chinuch, education. We educate the child and explain that some things are goals and other things are means. Money, for instance, is nothing on its own. A person cannot live on money. He could be at home surrounded by a great deal of money, but if he has no food, he will starve to death—like what happened to Rothschild. There is a well-known story about one of the Rothschilds who died inside his vault. Or perhaps it was another wealthy man. He was locked inside the vault, and no one knew where he was. Two weeks later they found him there. He had written on the wall that money... I don’t remember the wording, but that you cannot live on money alone. He died there despite having silver and gold around him, because they could not help him. So we explain to a person that money is not the goal; it is a means. That much is clear. In the same way, we tell a child that the whole point of youth, the years of

27:50 A child, a young man in his youthful years, has a lot of energy. He has strength, he has energy, he has life. So he needs to know that the strengths he has are not the goal; they are a means. They are a means he can use to study Torah and perform mitzvos, but he shouldn’t think they are what matters most. It’s just very interesting to hear. So this is how you educate a child: you give him money so you can explain to him that money is not an end in itself; it’s a means to another end. The same is true of all kinds of things Hashem gives a person. He’s a small child, and Hashem gives him all kinds of strengths. They are all a means for him to use, so that later he can put them to use for holiness.