Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 40 - Part 10

00:03 The Alter Rebbe speaks here at the end about wings. The Tanya explains why love and fear are called wings, and that teaches us two things. On the one hand, it explains the nature of love and fear: they are wings. In other words, love and fear elevate all the Torah and mitzvos a person does, as the Alter Rebbe explained at length in the previous chapter. On the other hand, it explains that love and fear are only a means. Their purpose is not love and fear in themselves, but to bring a person to avodah. Just as a bird’s wings are not the main thing—they serve its body—so love and fear serve Torah and mitzvos. The purpose of love is avodah. And if a person has love without avodah, the Alter Rebbe says that this is “love of delights.” Love without avodah is love of delights. Well, everyone. Now, this will get us ready for what’s coming shortly. Look, he’s arrived here too, with all these extra touches. If only people listened to Tanya classes with the same care! And so, the point is like this. There are two kinds of love. There is ordinary love, which is what the Tanya discusses here throughout Likkutei Amarim. Until now, the Tanya has spoken about love as it relates to serving Hashem, as the verse says: “For the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” “In your heart” refers to love and fear. What does that mean? This is what is asked of a beinoni, and of this we say, “It is very close to you”: everyone is capable of it, and everyone needs to attain it. What kind of love and fear are we talking about? Love and fear that lead to action. This is the love and fear everyone must have: love and fear as a means

02:28 of bringing a person to serve Hashem. When a person is at this level, love and fear have no purpose in themselves. Love and fear on their own are not the point; they need to be a means of bringing a person to avodah. That is what we just explained: wings. But there is another kind of love, called love of delights. A person can reach a very high level in serving Hashem at which love becomes an end in itself—not love that brings him to avodah, but a state of love with nothing sought after, no further purpose or goal. The love itself is the goal. The Alter Rebbe says: understand that this is already a matter of receiving reward. It is not avodah. It is called receiving reward, and it is a taste of the World to Come. There are Jews who, while still in this world, have reached a level that is a taste of the World to Come. They have merited, even while living in a body in this world, to be in a state of love without seeking anything at all: love of delights. But that is not avodah; it is something entirely different. That is what the Tanya says here: love of delights is a taste of the World to Come, a matter of receiving reward. It is not what we are discussing here in Tanya. Here we are speaking of “today to do them, and tomorrow to receive their reward.” Avodah is for today. Here, the essential kind of love is love that leads to avodah. What exactly does “love of delights” mean? I mean, I don’t know how to—yes, what exactly is love of delights? You have to be there to know what it is. It is not a level that— But at least we can understand it conceptually. What is love of delights? To understand love of delights, what is the definition of the faculty of delight? Delight is

04:23 when a person is in a state of mind in which he needs nothing. That is the true definition of the faculty of delight. A person is not searching for anything because he lacks nothing. That is the difference Chassidus describes between desire and delight. Both are encompassing faculties, but with desire, a person is lacking something. He is running, searching for something to fill that lack. He wants something; he is not satisfied. In other words, there is something outside him that he seeks in order to fulfill his desire. Delight is in the essence of the soul, and it says, “There is nothing higher than delight.” Delight is when a person has reached a state in his soul where he needs nothing, searches for nothing—he is there. In other words, delight involves becoming one with something, as though there are not two separate things at all. As long as he is outside it, he runs toward it. Desire expresses the fact that he and the thing he desires are separate, and so he runs toward it. Once he is within it, he is no longer running. He is in a state of—how do you put it?—quiet, at ease. Why? Because he is there. We can understand this from its opposite as well. Of course it exists in holiness, but it is a little hard for us to understand it there. From its opposite, though, we can understand it very well. What do we see on the other side? The Rebbe Rashab says in Kuntres HaAvodah that sometimes a young man is very careful not to look where he shouldn’t. If, G-d forbid, he slips—he walks down the street and sees something immodest, or something else he is forbidden to look at—it has an effect on him. It

06:27 unsettles him. He wants to get it out of his mind; it bothers him and causes him all kinds of turmoil. He has to make a special effort. It stirs something in his soul. Sometimes people claim, “It doesn’t affect me. I can look, and it does nothing to me. I stay cool. I don’t get excited or stirred up. It doesn’t bother me.” The Rebbe [unclear] says that this is a mistake. Why? Just the opposite: his condition has become so bad that he thinks he is unaffected because it means nothing to him. But the truth is that this impurity has become part of who he is, and that is why it does not stir him. It has become his nature; he takes pleasure in it. Yes? That is what delight means. It has become part of him. When something is part of a person himself, it no longer stirs him. So pay attention. People used to give a parable about this. When you go to a wedding, you see the wedding guests: the distinguished people, dressed beautifully, the wealthy people. They arrive and sit at the head tables. There is also a table for the poor. That used to be the custom; I don’t know if they still do it today. There would be a table off to the side where they were seated. I don’t mean the table for the yeshivah boys, all right? That table has food too. At the distinguished tables, people sit and eat slowly and quietly, with a knife and fork, cutting each piece. They have manners. At the poor people’s table, they eat with their hands and eat quickly. Then suddenly the waiter arrives with a platter.

08:27 Everyone grabs for it; each person wants to get to the platter first and snatches food from the next person. That is the scene over there. So who is more immersed in eating? I’m asking: who is more immersed in eating, the wealthy man or the poor man? At first glance, the poor man seems to have more of an appetite. He goes for the food and grabs whatever he can. The wealthy man eats slowly and quietly, piece by piece, without rushing. But that is not true. The truth is that the wealthy man has more of an appetite. How do we know? What is the proof? If you take away his food in the middle of his meal, what will he do? If someone comes to the poor man while he is eating and says, “Excuse me, that isn’t yours,” he’ll say, “Fine. It really isn’t mine. I came here hungry. If there’s nothing for me to eat, well, [unclear].” He is already used to going without. But if you come to the wealthy man in the middle of his meal and take away his plate, there will be a catastrophe! He’ll want to kill you; he’ll turn red. In other words, he appears cool and indifferent, but that does not mean he is less involved. On the contrary, it shows that eating has become so much a part of him, so much his nature, that it is no longer a matter of impatience. It is him. [unclear] So we can understand this in holiness too. The point is that delight makes something part of a person’s very self. Of course, on the side of holiness there is love of delights. It means that G-dliness is a person’s very essence: “This is who I am, and G-dliness is who I am.” So he is no longer in a state of outward excitement; it is his whole being. From the outside, you look at him and you don’t see the

10:13 The movement—you don’t see the excitement, you don’t see the dancing. But that isn’t because he doesn’t care. On the contrary. It means he has become one with G-dliness through and through, completely united with it. And then he isn’t looking for anything anymore. He is there in a state of wholeness. Ahavas taanugim, a love of delight. The Rebbe Rashab said that this is something to aspire to. When can a person feel ahavas taanugim? It is said that the Rebbe Rashab said: A Jew gets up on Shabbos morning, studies Chassidus for several hours, and then davens. After davening, as he walks home, ahavas taanugim shines within him. That’s what the Rebbe Rashab said. You can try it and see if it works. That’s what the Rebbe Rashab said. So at that point it is no longer a matter of avodah. What does that mean? It is now a matter of G-dliness alone. It is already receiving the reward. “But one who has not reached this level, to taste something of the World to Come, and whose soul still longs and thirsts for Hashem and yearns for Him all day long”—a person who has not reached that level, where he already feels that G-dliness is his very essence, but instead thirsts for G-dliness. He has a thirst, a thirst. That means G-dliness is not my very essence. I lack G-dliness. I want G-dliness, but I don’t have it within me. Yes, “and all this time he does not quench his thirst with the waters of Torah before him”—he does not do the avodah. He remains with the thirst, with the feeling of thirst for G-dliness. During davening, a feeling of love and thirst awakens in him, but in practice, after davening, he does not take a Gemara and sit down to learn, to quench that thirst and actually bring it into a connection with G-dliness. As we said earlier, “he does not quench his thirst with the waters of Torah before him.” Such a person, the Alter Rebbe says, is like someone standing in a river. He is like a person standing

12:09 in a river and shouting, “Water! Water to drink!” A thirsty person is standing in a river full of water, and he is shouting, “Water! Water!” But he doesn’t drink. He doesn’t drink. He shouts, “Water! Water!” while he is standing right here in the river. They tell him, “Go and drink.” As Yeshayahu the prophet says, “Ho, all who are thirsty, go to the water.” That is the prophet’s complaint. The prophet says, “Ho, all who are thirsty, go to the water.” There is a verse in Yeshayahu, if I’m not mistaken: “Ho, all who are thirsty, go to the water.” In other words, he is shouting, “Ho! If you’re thirsty, why don’t you go to the water?” What exactly is going on here? Who is he shouting to? What is the prophet complaining about? What? What? What exactly happened there? Who are we talking about? If he is speaking to someone who is physically thirsty for water, what is the prophet telling him? You’re thirsty for water? Drink water. Fine, but we don’t need a prophet to shout, “Ho!” If he is speaking to someone who thirsts for water in a spiritual sense, then water means Torah. Spiritual water. “There is no water but Torah.” But then the meaning is still unclear. If you thirst for water—meaning that you know water is Torah, and what you thirst for is Torah—why does the prophet have to tell you to go study Torah? If you thirst for Torah, of course you’ll study Torah. What are we talking about here? That is the Alter Rebbe’s insight into this verse, because its plain meaning is hard to understand. Someone who is thirsty, someone who loves to learn, will simply learn on his own. If “thirsty” means thirsty for water in the sense that water is Torah—he thirsts for Torah—then of course he will study Torah. So what is the verse talking about? A person who is not thirsty for Torah; he is thirsty for G-dliness. Why does the prophet have to shout to him, “Ho!”? Does he have somewhere else to go? What does this mean? What is happening here? Look, he explains.

14:03 We are talking here about someone whose thirst is not for Torah. His thirst is for G-dliness. He davens, he contemplates the greatness of Hashem, and during davening a thirst to cleave to G-dliness awakens in him. He is looking for G-dliness. The prophet tells him: You thirst for G-dliness? Then go drink water—Torah. That is what quenches the thirst for G-dliness. As explained throughout the sources, Torah is the water. That is where G-dliness is found. You are looking for G-dliness? It says, “You shall love Hashem your G-d with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might.” A person is stirred to love and thirst for G-dliness; with all his heart and all his might, he wants G-dliness. So what is he told? “I am Hashem your G-d, Who teaches you for your benefit, Who guides you on the way you should go.” You want G-dliness? G-dliness is found in Torah. That is where you will find it. That is what the prophet is shouting. You stand there davening and cry, “Oy, oy!” You’re shouting, “Water! Water!” Sorry—you want G-dliness? Then why don’t you bring it here? Go study Torah. So this point is understood precisely in light of what the Alter Rebbe just said. In other words, it goes like this. If a person... There are people who daven, and during davening they pray with vitality, with all sorts of [unclear]. They feel something during davening; they are stirred. They contemplate, and love of Hashem awakens in them. Or they sing a niggun, a niggun of deveikus, and truly want to connect with G-dliness. Sometimes they even begin to cry during davening because of that feeling. Sometimes they feel joy, or all sorts of other emotions during davening. They finish davening and say, “Ah, today I davened the way I should. Today, during davening, I felt Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” If that is where it ends, it is nothing. That is not right. Why? This is the complaint against you: You are standing in a river and shouting, “Water! Water!” Are you thirsty? No—during davening, a thirst for G-dliness awakened in you. Well, and that’s it. He remains thirsty. He is content

16:16 with the thirst. In other words, he isn’t looking for the truth. He is looking for thrills, for feelings. There was once a farbrengen where they spoke about this. Reb Sholom Deitsch explained that today there are people in the world who are looking for something. It is very common today. People go to performances, to places with singing and choirs and musicians and singers. They are looking to be moved; they want to feel something. That is what they seek. There are people in Jerusalem who go to the Kosel to hear the davening there. We haven’t quite gotten to the Shabbos aspect of it yet. Yes, they are looking for that—how beautifully they sing. Yes. Some people have a knack for stirring emotion. Emotion, and that’s all. It leads to no action at all. In other words, it has no bearing on what they do; that is where it stays. You can find this among chassidim too. A chossid might cry at a farbrengen. Some people simply love a farbrengen. A farbrengen is a good setting. At a farbrengen, you sing a niggun, and he leaves feeling moved and inspired. Vitality, geshmak. But what happens? What comes out of the farbrengen? Nothing. He enjoys the experience of the farbrengen itself, being moved. Sitting down to learn is boring. Learning Gemara, learning Chassidus, davening and putting things into practice—no. So what is the point here? He is looking for a way to feel some beautiful emotions. He is seeking his own feelings. He is not seeking love of Hashem, and that is what the Alter Rebbe is saying. That is what the Alter Rebbe is saying. The Alter Rebbe says here that it must lead to action. The point has to be love of Hashem. When? What is the test of whether your love of Hashem is genuine? It is when you are not seeking the feeling of love. You are seeking to bring it into action here. When someone stands in davening and looks for some feeling of love to come over him—like people who stand on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur looking for a chance to cry, squeezing themselves to get something out, feeling that they need some taste of

18:42 Bitterness. He’s looking for the feeling, but that isn’t what he should be looking for. That’s not the point. A person needs to seek actual action, specifically. That needs to be his goal: his love of Hashem should not be for the sake of feeling love of Hashem. His love of Hashem should be genuine. In other words, he thirsts for G-dliness, so he looks for where he can find G-dliness. When he’s told that G-dliness is found in Torah and mitzvos, he’ll seek out Torah and mitzvos. That’s where he can bring his love into actual practice. This is what the prophet says: “Ho, all who thirst, go to water.” But if the thirst itself remains just thirst, that’s merely a luxury. It’s ego. Chassidus discusses at length how a person can have love of Hashem, and afterward that love of Hashem can turn into love of cholent, love of kugel. He may genuinely become moved during davening, but there’s a contradiction here: he isn’t seeking Hakadosh Boruch Hu; he’s seeking his own feelings. During davening, those feelings were very beautiful feelings of prayer, but afterward that same feeling can go toward cholent and kugel too. He’s in a state of distraction. Well, let me say a little more. This is the point the Alter Rebbe explains. So the subject here, throughout these chapters from chapter 35 through chapter 40—what is the foundation of all these chapters? On the one hand, we need to know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired a dwelling for Himself in the lower realms. In practice, that is the main thing: actual action. For example, the Rebbe began chapter 35 with the verse and brought in the subject of the beinoni—the ultimate purpose of the beinoni’s soul descending into this world. This is expressed through the lamp, and the Rebbe also cited the Zohar. The Zohar says that what serves as the oil for the wick is specifically good deeds. Love and awe won’t suffice; feelings won’t suffice. Even for a complete tzaddik, love and delight won’t suffice to

20:42 make oil for the wick. The oil that draws the Shechinah into the world comes specifically from actual action—good deeds. Then, in chapters 36 and 37, he explains the concept of a dwelling in the lower realms, and “our deeds and our work.” On the other hand, what do you see him explaining? It’s a dwelling in the lower realms, but we also want revelation. Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants it to be not only a dwelling in the lower realms—not only G-dliness being drawn down in its essential sense—but also revealed. That’s what he explains in chapters 38, 39, and 40: the whole subject of love and awe, intention and feeling; natural love and awe, and intellectually developed love and awe. All of this is to raise a person’s Torah and mitzvos to a level where G-dliness shines openly as well. Then the action connects with the light and the revelation—both together. It should be a dwelling in the lower realms, but also in a revealed way, not only in its essence. That’s not the point here at all.