Lichyos Chassidus – Tanya – Rabbi Farkash · Episode 151 · 13 Elul 5780 · 25:46
Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 41 - Part 1
Episode description
Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 41 - Part 1
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:01 We’re up to chapter 41 here in “Ashrei Temimim” at the yeshiva. Actually, we’ve already started it; we covered part of it. But since there are many new bochurim, and for the older bochurim too, 18 Tishrei and all sorts of lofty things have probably come and gone, it’s worth starting again from the beginning, at least to get back into the subject. We won’t necessarily repeat every explanation and elaboration. We’ll cover what we can. So let’s start again at the beginning of chapter 41. In the preceding chapters, the Alter Rebbe spoke about action and intention. He explained that, on the one hand, there must be action. After all, action is the main thing, and the whole matter of making a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms is accomplished specifically through action. The Alter Rebbe explained this at length in chapters 35, 36, and 37: how actual action is the ultimate intent, and how through it we bring about a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms. When Moshiach comes, this will be the result of our service through action: a dwelling in the physical world, through which Hashem’s Essence will be revealed. That is what will be revealed in the future. In chapter 38, the Alter Rebbe began explaining that, nevertheless, intention is also necessary—so much so that it is said that a mitzvah without intention is like a body without a soul. In chapters 38, 39, and 40, the Alter Rebbe explained at length the intention behind mitzvos. In general, it is connected with love and awe: there must be contemplation to awaken the mind first, and then, from the mind, love and awe must reach the heart. And within that, the Alter Rebbe discussed several levels: natural love and awe,
02:17 intellectual love and awe, and even love and awe in the manner of a chariot. Broadly speaking, these correspond to the worlds of Yetzirah, Beriah, and Atzilus—different forms of love and awe. The Alter Rebbe explained their differences in detail, and the advantages of each. In any case, the point was that both things are needed. At the end of chapter 40, the Alter Rebbe gave the analogy of a bird and its wings: “Torah without fear and love does not fly upward.” A person may have Torah and mitzvos, but if love and awe are missing, that Torah and those mitzvos do not fly upward. What does “fly upward” mean? True, the main intent is a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms, and action is the main thing. So the primary emphasis must be on actually fulfilling mitzvos. But for Divine light to be revealed within that action, it has to be lifted out of the physical realm, because the physicality of the world conceals G-dliness. It has to be brought out of that physicality and materiality, to a place where G-dliness can be revealed. And where can G-dliness be revealed? In the spiritual worlds—Beriah, Yetzirah, and Atzilus. That is accomplished through spiritual intention, through love and awe. So both things are needed. To make a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms, action is necessary. But for G-dliness to shine openly in that dwelling, love and awe are necessary. That, in brief, was the point the Alter Rebbe explained in the previous chapters, from chapter 35 through chapter 40. There he spoke about love and awe in general, without going into so much detail. Here, in chapter 41, and from chapter 41 through chapter 50—the next ten chapters—the Alter Rebbe
04:10 goes on to explain several particular levels of love and awe: different kinds of love and awe, and different things that awaken them. In these next ten chapters, the Alter Rebbe goes into the heart of the matter. After all, this is the Book of the Beinoni, and the Alter Rebbe is trying to explain to us how “the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it”—how every Jew is capable of serving Hashem. And how it is “close” not only “to do it,” but also “in your heart, to do it”: to have a feeling of love and awe as well. So the Alter Rebbe presents different kinds of love and awe that are within everyone’s reach, on various levels. He begins that in chapter 41. First, though, the Alter Rebbe explains something fundamental and basic that has to serve as the foundation. It comes even before the service itself; it is not actually one of the levels of love and awe. He is now going to explain the foundation of serving Hashem—something that must be present in every person as the basis for all their service, even before the various levels of love and awe. We’ll begin learning that now in the text. The Alter Rebbe says: “However, one must always keep in mind the beginning of the service, its essence, and its root.” Why “however”? It means that although we said Torah and mitzvos need both love and awe in order to ascend—like the analogy of the bird, which needs two wings to fly, a right wing and a left wing; spiritually, both love and awe—nevertheless, we must always remember what the Alter Rebbe is about to explain: that “the beginning of the service, its essence,
05:54 and its root” is specifically awe, and, within awe itself, the fundamental awe connected with kabbolas ol. In other words, although both love and awe are required, the basis for serving Hashem is specifically awe—and specifically awe in the form of kabbolas ol, as we’ll now see in the text. The Alter Rebbe calls this “the beginning of the service, its essence, and its root.” In short, let’s go through these three terms: beginning, essence, and root. The Rebbe explains that “beginning” means just what it says: this is where the service begins. A person wants to start serving Hashem. He needs to know what the first step is. You cannot begin serving Hashem without it. Everything starts there. That is “the beginning of the service.” But “beginning” could imply that it is only the start, and afterward you move on to something else that is just as important. It would only be a matter of order—like the first day and the second day. Of course, the second day is just as important as the first; the first simply comes before it. In the same way, you might think that what we are discussing here in chapter 41 is only the starting point. The Alter Rebbe says: it is not only the beginning; it is also the essence. That means that, relative to every other aspect of serving Hashem, this kabbolas ol that we are about to learn is the main thing. The essence of the entire service is specifically this acceptance of the yoke of Heaven. As the Alter Rebbe will explain later, kabbolas ol and fear of Heaven are actually the essence of
07:37 “Of this it is said, ‘And you shall serve.’” This is a matter of avodah, of service. The essence of avodah is specifically yirah, fear of Hashem. Love is not considered avodah to the same extent. When it comes to serving Hashem, love of Hashem is not considered avodah to the same extent. It is specifically yirah, which involves kabbolas ol, that is considered the service of a servant, and therefore it is the essence of avodah. Compared with it, all other forms of avodah are secondary. And now the Alter Rebbe adds something further. I might have thought: Fine, so indeed, kabbolas ol and fear of Heaven are not only the beginning of avodah; fear of Heaven is also its essence. But afterward there are other forms of avodah. True, they are not as central as this, but they are important too—and they are separate. They are not connected to this avodah. In other words, first you have to begin with kabbolas ol. That is the beginning. Not only is it the beginning, it is also the essence. But afterward come other forms of avodah that lie outside kabbolas ol. The Alter Rebbe adds, “and its root.” What does “its root” mean? Think of a root in the physical world. A root is what makes the entire tree grow. It is not merely that the root is in the ground and a tree grows above the ground, as though they were two things, one primary and one secondary. More than that: all the tree’s life comes from the root. The root is not just a thing in its own right, or even just the primary thing. It supplies moisture and vitality and brings about the growth of the whole tree—all the fruit and all the branches that grow afterward. So what does that mean in avodah? In avodah,
09:18 it means that kabbolas ol, besides being the first thing and besides being the main thing, is also what gives vitality to all of one’s service of Hashem. Every aspect of serving Hashem that comes afterward—every level a person later rises to in love of Hashem, in fear of Hashem, and in serving Hashem—all of it has to be permeated through and through. Just as the root permeates the whole tree, kabbolas ol permeates every aspect of serving Hashem. And the Alter Rebbe will explain these three points further on: how fear of Heaven is the beginning of everything, its essence, and also its root—what gives life and sustains all the service of Hashem that follows. The Alter Rebbe continues: “And this is because, although fear...” What is this thing we are saying is the beginning, the essence, and the root? The Alter Rebbe begins with an introduction: “Although fear is the root of turning away from evil, and love is the root of doing good.” Earlier, at the beginning of Tanya chapter 4, the Alter Rebbe said that we need both love and fear. Not only that, he explained there that love is the root of doing good and fear is the root of turning away from evil. That is what the Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya chapter 4. What is he saying? For a person to turn away from evil completely, he specifically needs to act through the power of fear. Why? Because fear guards a person. When someone has fear of Heaven, he is afraid to commit a transgression. In simple terms, fear is a movement of drawing back, a movement of being afraid. So he does not want to do something that could be an act of rebellion against the King—or there is a deeper kind of fear, as the Alter Rebbe explains in chapter 4. Fear, then, is the driving force, like the engine
11:11 that leads a person to be careful about turning away from evil. Love, on the other hand, is a movement of closeness and attachment. So love arouses a person to do good. Why? He loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so he wants to be attached to Him. And the way to become attached to Hakadosh Boruch Hu is by doing the things He commands, for the mitzvos are “the 248 limbs of the King”—just as one draws close to a flesh-and-blood king through his limbs. So we see both elements here: fear is the root of turning away from evil, and love is the root of doing good. There is another, deeper point here. When we say that fear is the root of turning away from evil, the simple understanding is that “turning away from evil” means the 365 prohibitions, while “doing good” means the 248 positive mitzvos. And that is stated explicitly in chapter 4. There the Alter Rebbe says it this way: love is the root of the 248 positive mitzvos, and fear is the root of the 365 prohibitions. Here, though, the Alter Rebbe changes the wording. He does not write that. He writes that love is the root of “doing good,” not of the 248 positive mitzvos. He writes “doing good,” and for fear he writes “turning away from evil.” This is not just a difference in wording; it is also a difference in meaning. When we say “turning away from evil,” we do not mean only the 365 prohibitions. Turning away from evil also includes the 248 positive mitzvos. Why? Because, plainly, if a person does not put on tefillin, he is doing wrong. Putting on tefillin is a positive mitzvah. Nevertheless, if you do not put on tefillin, it is not merely that you are missing an opportunity to do good. You are doing wrong, because the Creator commanded you to put on tefillin and you are not doing so. The same applies to tzitzis,
13:01 and likewise to reciting Shema, which is also a positive mitzvah. So fulfilling positive mitzvos is also part of turning away from evil. If so, what does “doing good” mean? It does not mean merely doing the mitzvah. It means doing it in a beautiful way, with vitality, with—with—pleasure and joy. That is what “doing good” means. And that is indeed how the Alter Rebbe explains it in Likkutei Torah, in the maamar Mah Tovu. In that maamar, in Likkutei Torah on Parshas Balak, the Alter Rebbe writes explicitly that “turning away from evil” includes all 613 mitzvos. But it means, primarily, fulfilling the 613 mitzvos so as not to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu—not to be bad, not to be wicked. To reach the level of turning away from evil, fear is enough. Through fear, a person guards himself from committing transgressions. To fulfill the mitzvos beautifully, though, he has to reach the level of doing good. As we said, doing good does not mean merely doing them; it means doing them with effort, with care and beauty, with vitality. Fear is not enough for that; there must also be love. So this gives us a deeper understanding of what is said here: love is the root of doing good, and fear is the root of turning away from evil. About this, the Alter Rebbe says that although we said love is the root of doing good and fear is the root of turning away from evil, it is nevertheless not enough to arouse love alone in order to do good. The Alter Rebbe says: Nevertheless, arousing love alone is not enough to do good. In other words, someone studying Tanya up to this point, chapter 40, might conclude that we need both things: both fear and
14:50 love. Right? But what do we need fear for? To turn away from evil. That is what we need fear for. Whereas for—for doing good, love is enough. So a person might think: I need fear to turn away from evil, but I do not need fear to do good. For doing good, the main thing is love. The Alter Rebbe says: “It is not enough to arouse love alone in order to do good.” Even for “doing good,” which we said is connected with love, there must also be fear. This is what the Alter Rebbe meant earlier when he said that fear is not only the beginning of avodah, and not only its essence, but also its root. He emphasizes here that fear is not only the root of doing good—sorry, of turning away from evil—but also the root of doing good. For a person to fulfill the mitzvos, the positive mitzvos, or to “do good” in the sense we discussed—fulfilling mitzvos with vitality and in a beautiful way—he needs fear for that too. Fear is a foundation for doing good as well, not only for turning away from evil. The question, seemingly, is why? Earlier, the Alter Rebbe explained otherwise, and that also makes sense. The entire explanation until now was that turning away from evil requires fear, while doing good requires love. And that is easy to understand: when a person loves, he does things with care and vitality. But what does fear have to do with doing good? That is what the Alter Rebbe is now going to explain: fear is the foundation of all service of Hashem,
16:30 Both for turning away from evil and for doing good. What is the point here? Before we go on, what is the point of this explanation? Why does the Alter Rebbe stress and insist so strongly that it has to be specifically a matter of fear, and that fear is needed not only to turn away from evil but also to do good? What is all the fuss about? Why wouldn’t it be enough for a person to have love of Hashem and, out of love of Hashem, keep all the mitzvos? On the contrary, you might think that out of love of Hashem he would also refrain from wrongdoing. Simply put, if I love Hashem, not only will I do mitzvos, I’ll also avoid aveiros. What do you mean? I love Hakadosh Boruch Hu—will I only do mitzvos? Won’t I also refrain from aveiros? Why does the Alter Rebbe make such a fuss about it? Why does he insist that there must be fear, and that without fear it just doesn’t work? Even doing good cannot be done without fear. So the point of the explanation is... There are two points here. Two points. Why is fear so essential? One point is that a person who has only love of Hashem may not be serving Hashem at all; he may be serving himself. If the whole foundation of a person’s avodah is love of Hashem, he may not be serving Hashem at all. He may be serving himself. Why? Because love is a good feeling. Love is a feeling of closeness. Yes, I love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Why? Because Hakadosh Boruch Hu is good. So at the base, at the foundation of that love, is the feeling of “I,” my sense of self. I love myself, so I love all sorts of things that—
18:40 Boruch Hashem, he isn’t a coarse person whose love finds expression in ice cream and pizza and... whatever. He loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so he uses that love to serve Hashem. But if, for him, it remains only a matter of love, then he may not be serving Hashem at all; he’s serving himself. And that can also lead to a situation where there are things he likes doing more, so he does them, and things he doesn’t like doing so much, so he doesn’t do them. He’ll make distinctions: “This one—I feel closer to Hakadosh Boruch Hu through it, so yes. That one, I feel less close.” By contrast, when he has the foundation of fear, fear isn’t about “me,” about what I see as good for me. Fear means looking to the One Above, to the King. Fear means there is a Master of this world; there is a King, and He says what must be done. So fear doesn’t depend on—that’s where my own sense of self isn’t so involved. Consequently, that is avodah. There are a number of details to this, and we’ll see a number of them later. But that is one point behind the Alter Rebbe’s emphasis that a person must be G-d-fearing as the foundation of his avodah, rather than relying on love. With love, a person remains caught up in himself, and that can also lead to his not doing things as he should. With fear, by contrast, a person will take care to do everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants. He won’t put what he likes or doesn’t like first. Besides that, love is subject to change. Because love is a feeling of closeness, it can change.
20:24 One day I’m in the mood to feel love, so I’ll do everything with a smile and with joy. Another day, a bochur wakes up in a bad mood. Too bad—there was no breakfast in the yeshiva today, there was no water in the shower, all kinds of problems. So his whole day is off. He has no love, no geshmak, and as a result he won’t learn or daven either; everything falls apart. In other words, if my basis is just doing what I love, what feels good—even if it’s love of Hashem—there can be ups and downs. One day yes, the next day no; it changes. Fear doesn’t change like that. Fear isn’t dependent on my mood. There is a yoke to bear, and it’s there on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday—every day, twenty-four hours a day. It doesn’t change, so it’s stronger. That is this whole explanation, the more rational side of it: what advantage fear has over love. But the Rebbe adds another point. In Likkutei Sichos, the Rebbe adds an explanation here, a wonderful explanation. With Hashem’s help, we’ll discuss it more as we continue through the chapter. The Rebbe gives a wonderful explanation of chapter 41. He explains another essential point: if a person serves Hashem only with love, then his avodah lacks the element of G-dliness. What does it mean that G-dliness is missing? How can I serve Hashem in the first place? A person is a created being. How can a created being serve the Creator? There is no comparison between them, and whatever I do is utterly incomparable to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. How can I, a created being, perform actions that connect me
22:14 with Hakadosh Boruch Hu—a bond and a connection? The only way that can happen is when a person nullifies himself. Then it isn’t “I” who am doing this; it is the will of the One Above. In other words, if a person feels himself to be an independent entity in any way, his avodah is not considered service of Hashem. There is no service of Hashem here. It is service of self. That is, this avodah doesn’t reach Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Apart from what we said earlier—that because it contains a sense of self, it won’t endure, it can change, there can be ups and downs, and he may choose what to do and what not to do—apart from all that, even if he does everything one hundred percent, it still isn’t a bond and a connection. You, as an independent “I,” and Hakadosh Boruch Hu do not go together. How do you form a bond and a connection? For there to be a bond and a connection between the One who commands, the person commanded, and the mitzvah, a person must have the foundation of bittul. He is not an independent entity; rather, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu says so, and that is what I do.” The point of bittul is found specifically in fear, not in love. And that is what the Rebbe is saying here. Fear is needed not only to turn away from evil but also to do good. Because if the point of fear is missing—that is, if the point of bittul is missing—nothing else will help. I may love Hashem and do the mitzvah, but it isn’t a bond; I won’t become connected to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. These mitzvos won’t have their intended effect. It is specifically when there is a foundation of fear—fear is bittul—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in those mitzvos, that Hakadosh Boruch Hu rests there,
24:02 and a bond and a connection are formed. Those are the two explanations here for why fear is so essential as “the beginning of avodah, and its core and root”—of all service of Hashem, both doing good and turning away from evil. One reason is the shortcoming in love, as we explained: love can involve feeling close or distant, ups and downs, changes, and all those things. The other is that without fear, there is no bond and connection. For there to be a bond and connection, the point of fear must come first. Once a person has fear, love can follow, bringing with it the advantage that love has. Of course, fear alone isn’t good either, because that is only bittul. It lacks the advantage of having his own self connected with G-dliness, and so on. There has to be love too. But the foundation must be fear. That is what it means for fear to be the beginning and the root—the root of all service of Hashem. That is the point. “And at the very least, one must first awaken the natural fear hidden in the heart of every Jew, not to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, as explained above.” So what is the first, basic, fundamental thing a person has to awaken? Fear. What kind of fear? The fear every Jew has by nature. A Jew has fear by nature—not fear born of contemplation. No. We’re talking here about the simple, basic fear that is in every Jew’s nature. Every Jew, at heart, has fear of Heaven; a Jew does not want to rebel against Hakadosh Boruch Hu, as explained above. That has to be awakened and brought out into the open, so that he will not rebel against Hakadosh Boruch Hu—“so that it is revealed in his heart, or at least in his mind.” That is the point that must be the beginning of avodah, and its core and root.