Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 44 - Part 2

00:14 We said that here in chapter 44, the Alter Rebbe is discussing love and fear in the service of Hashem. The Alter Rebbe continues from what we said in chapter 43. In chapter 43, the Alter Rebbe said that there are two general levels of love for Hashem: ahavas olam and ahavah rabbah. He explained, in general terms, that the difference between them is that ahavas olam comes through a person’s own efforts from below, through contemplation and understanding, whereas ahavah rabbah comes as a gift from above. After a person reaches perfection in his service—in love and fear, and in Torah and mitzvos—ahavah rabbah is revealed to him from above as a gift, a free gift. It is love from above in the fullest sense. The Alter Rebbe also explained that ahavas olam comes through contemplating matters connected with the world. A person reflects on the world and on how G-dliness is better than everything the world has to offer: “For Your kindness is better than life.” The delight of G-dliness is greater than any pleasure in this world, and so love is aroused within him. Since this love comes through worldly matters, it is called ahavas olam, “love of the world”; it also has the limits of the world. It is a limited love. Ahavah rabbah, by contrast, comes from above, not through contemplating the world, and is therefore an unlimited love. Those, in general, are the differences between ahavas olam and ahavah rabbah. So the Alter Rebbe says here in chapter 44—first, as we learned in the previous lesson, he begins by saying that there are many levels both in ahavah rabbah and in ahavas olam. Each of these two kinds of love has many levels, for each person according to his measure. Every person has his own limits, his own measure. And so there are

02:42 many levels, both in ahavah rabbah and in ahavas olam. For this he cited the Zohar. He explains that this is the meaning of “Her husband is known in the gates.” “Her husband” refers to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the husband of Knesses Yisroel. “Known in the gates” means that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is revealed to each person through the knowledge in his mind and the love in his heart: He is known and one cleaves to Him. This knowledge and this cleaving are each “according to what he measures in his heart.” Each person has his own capacities, qualities, and ability to understand and feel. Let’s continue with the word “therefore.” The Alter Rebbe continues: Therefore, in light of what we have just said—that there are many levels of knowledge, and consequently many levels of cleaving—there are many levels of ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam. The Alter Rebbe says that this also helps us understand something else. Therefore, regarding fear and love, “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d.” This also explains why the verse is applied to love and fear. The Zohar says that fear and love are “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d.” They remain hidden; only Hakadosh Boruch Hu knows them. Torah and mitzvos, on the other hand, are “the revealed things belong to us and to our children, to do.” There is a verse in Parshas Nitzavim: “The hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d, and the revealed things belong to us and to our children, to do all the words of this Torah.” There are several interpretations of this verse. The simple meaning of “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d” is that hidden matters—how things are governed, the sefiros, souls, and all kinds of other matters—what happens in the higher worlds, are not our concern. Those belong to Hashem our G-d. We need to know and do what Hashem wants: Torah and mitzvos. That is the

04:55 plain, straightforward meaning. There is another interpretation: “The hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d” refers to Kabbalah, the secrets of the Torah, while “the revealed things” refers to the revealed dimension of Torah. There are several ways of explaining the verse. But look: here the verse is explained according to the Zohar, which says that “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d” refers to love and fear, while “the revealed things belong to us and to our children” refers to Torah and mitzvos, to the practical observance of Torah and mitzvos. On a simple level, what does the Zohar mean? Why say that love and fear are hidden, while Torah and mitzvos are revealed? The Zohar’s meaning is straightforward: a person performs Torah and mitzvos with the body, and the body is external. It is something everyone can see. It is revealed. You cannot pretend when it comes to putting on tefillin: either you put them on or you did not. People can see whether a person put on tefillin. It is visible from the outside. The same goes for tzitzis, and the same goes for tzedakah—actions involving the body. Performing a Torah precept or a mitzvah is revealed; it is outwardly visible because it involves the physical, material body. Love and fear, by contrast, involve the feelings of the heart and the understanding in the mind, and the mind and heart are hidden. No one sees them. You cannot know. A person may be experiencing love and fear, yet nothing shows on the outside. Outwardly he may look cold—“cold-blooded,” as they say. He looks cold and unfeeling, but inside his heart is burning with love and fear. So that is the Zohar’s straightforward meaning. Why are these called “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d”? Because they are hidden. They are in the mind and heart; they are not revealed

06:42 outwardly. That is understandable. But look: I am giving a new interpretation here, another interpretation based on what we have just said—that love and fear are different for each person, according to his measure, according to what his heart is capable of. Love and fear are not a single level; there are many ways of understanding and many kinds of feeling, because they depend on each person’s outlook and feelings. That is why they are “the hidden things.” So let’s read inside: “For there is one Torah and one law for all of us in the practical observance of the entire Torah and its mitzvos.” When it comes to Torah and mitzvos, the actual deed is revealed. The same Torah and the same mitzvos apply to everyone. In general, everyone has the mitzvah of putting on tefillin. Everyone has the mitzvah of tzitzis. There is no difference in this regard. The Torah makes no distinction between Moshe Rabbeinu and anyone else in the world. Nowhere in the Shulchan Aruch does it say that a particular mitzvah applies to Moshe Rabbeinu, or that only a tzaddik, and not a wicked person, must fulfill it. Torah and mitzvos are, in general, revealed Torah. The laws of prayer in the Shulchan Aruch are the same Shulchan Aruch for the greatest tzaddik and for the simplest person. So that is the meaning of “the revealed things belong to us and to our children”: there is one Torah for everyone. This is something everyone shares equally. What applies to me applies to everyone. The same deed required of one person is required of everyone, and that is why it is revealed. Love and fear, and knowledge, are different. Since they depend on—on—how did we put it earlier? They depend on the feelings of the heart and the understanding in the heart, in which every person is different. So you cannot—you cannot convey to someone else, you cannot reveal to someone else what you feel and what you understand, because what you understand is not what

08:40 What he understands. What you feel is not what he feels inside. This is not so with fear and love, which depend on the understanding in the mind and heart, as explained above. Love and fear are bound up with the mind and heart, so they are “hidden things.” Each person has his own individual way of understanding and feeling, and you cannot hand that over to someone else. This is a very fundamental point the Alter Rebbe makes here. When it comes to bringing something into actual practice, you can make a demand of a group. You can ask everyone to do the same deed. Of course, even there, there are differences, as is known, but we are speaking generally. When it comes to action, you can ask everyone to do the same thing. For example, you can say that everyone needs to study Rambam. Everyone needs to study halachos. Everyone needs to do something in practice, whatever the matter may be, throughout Torah and mitzvos. When you are talking about Torah and mitzvos in practice, that is what is revealed. Because the revealed dimension concerns actual deeds, one person can teach another and explain what needs to be done. Reuven can tell Shimon, Shimon can tell Levi, and it can continue that way from generation to generation. But matters connected with understanding and feelings of the heart are different. You can teach someone; you can explain it to him. But that does not necessarily mean he will take it in the same way you understand it. Sometimes one person studies Chassidus—say, a subject concerning yiras Shamayim, or something in a particular teaching—and it grabs him. It gives him a taste for it; he becomes very excited about it, very drawn to it,

10:31 because he finds life in it and loves that subject. He explains it to someone else, but it may not do the same for that person. The point that grabbed him was not exactly that point; something else grabbed him. So one of you was excited by one idea, and the other by another. One person might have a geshmak in memalei kol almin, and that is what grabs him. Explain matters of memalei kol almin to him, and they will move him and arouse feelings of love and fear. Someone else will be moved by matters of sovev kol almin. And there can be many variations along these lines. Why? Because this is what the Zohar means when it says that each person responds “according to his own measure.” Each person has his own way of understanding and grasping things, and accordingly, his feelings of the heart follow his understanding. That is why these are “hidden things”: for each individual, they depend on his own mind and heart. Of course, we can and should learn from one another. But when it comes down to it, each person has his own way of relating to something, of becoming inspired, and of what inspires him. Not everyone is moved by another person’s reasoning. This is also written in the introduction to Tanya. The Alter Rebbe discusses it there at length in relation to works of mussar. Why can’t we say that the same mussar book suits everyone? Because one person is moved by one point, and another by a different point. One point grabs one person but does not grab the next. It depends on each individual’s mind and heart. So that is another meaning the Alter Rebbe gives to “the hidden things.”

12:11 “Belong to Hashem our G-d.” The straightforward meaning is that the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d. On a simple level, this is because love is in the heart: it is inward, whereas action is outward. Yes. The Alter Rebbe adds another point here: action is something general, the same for everyone, whereas this is something personal, different for each individual. Each person responds according to his own measure and according to what he senses in his heart. In Chassidus, there is an explanation concerning the word mitzvah. What is said about the letters of “mitzvah”? Chassidus explains that they contain the letters of the name Havayah. How is the name Havayah present in the word mitzvah? The word mitzvah contains vav and hei openly. Its mem and tzadi correspond to yud and hei through atbash. This is a method of letter substitution used in interpreting allusions: alef is exchanged with tav, beis with shin, gimmel with reish, daled with kuf. The first letter is paired with the last, and so on. You remember? With this system, mem is exchanged with yud, and tzadi with hei. So within the mem and tzadi of mitzvah are yud and hei, followed by vav and hei. Together they are the letters yud, hei, vav, hei. The question is, why are vav and hei visible while yud and hei are hidden? Everything in the Torah is precise. Why are yud and hei in mitzvah only alluded to through atbash, while vav and hei are visible? The explanation is that the difference between yud-hei and vav-hei is what the Alter Rebbe is saying here in Tanya: yud-hei represents the hidden things, and vav-hei represents the revealed things.

14:30 These are the four letters of the name Havayah. Yud and hei are the letters associated with the hidden things: love and fear. Yud is chochmah, and hei is binah, corresponding to levels of the soul. Yud, chochmah, is connected with fear; binah is connected with love, as we learned earlier in chapter 43. In other words, they are connected with the hidden things. Vav and hei, by contrast, concern the revealed things. That is why the verse says “and the revealed things”: the vav and hei are there in the word for “the revealed things.” Vav corresponds to Torah, and hei to mitzvos. These are the revealed matters, what becomes manifest in the world. These are the two levels, the two aspects. Since a mitzvah is primarily connected with the revealed things, its vav and hei are written openly. That is the aspect of mitzvah that is visible. The yud and hei, by contrast, are present only as an allusion, concealed. In a mitzvah, they are present only in a hidden, alluded-to way: they are the vitality a person has in the mitzvah. What is visible is the vav and hei. That is another explanation given in Chassidus of what the Alter Rebbe says here about a mitzvah. In connection with the Alter Rebbe’s statement here that love and fear are “the hidden things that belong to Hashem our G-d,” with each person responding according to his own measure, there is a story about—ah, it concerns the Maggid. Yes, I’m coming to the Maggid of Mezritch. As is known, the Maggid of Mezritch had 120 disciples. The Alter Rebbe said of the Maggid of Mezritch, “A double portion of your spirit”: the Maggid had twice as many disciples as the Baal Shem Tov. The Baal Shem Tov had sixty disciples, and the Maggid of Mezritch had 120. Of course, this means the disciples of the holy fellowship—the leading disciples.

16:41 He had many chassidim, thousands, but here we are speaking about disciples. The Baal Shem Tov had sixty disciples, and the Maggid had 120. It is told that when the Maggid of Mezritch would teach Torah, he would deliver maamarim of Chassidus—very profound maamarim, as is known. His disciples included such well-known figures as Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, Reb Zusha of Anipoli, Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk, and so on. They say that when the Maggid taught Torah, each disciple had a different reaction. For example, Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev would reach a point in the middle of the teaching where he could no longer contain his excitement and emotion. While the Maggid was still teaching, he would leave the shul, go into a room, and start dancing with joy over what he had heard. Reb Zusha of Anipoli, on the other hand, would be seized by such awe and fear that he too would leave, because he would get a stomachache. It even says diarrhea. He would have stomach trouble from the intensity of his fear and awe. Each one reacted differently. It is written that the Alter Rebbe was the only one who, as a person of profound intellect, could take in the teaching to the end. The Alter Rebbe had the strength to listen to the Maggid’s teachings all the way through. He heard everything. So what do we see here? Although the Maggid gave one teaching—the same maamar, the same Torah idea—each disciple took it in differently. In one, it stirred joy; in another, it stirred awe or fear.

18:46 With the third person, it brought about a feeling of bitterness. The same Tehillim, the same maamar, the same idea affected each of them differently. Why? Because this is the point the Rebbe is making here: “The hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d.” Each person according to his own measure, according to what he senses in his heart—each according to his own qualities, faculties, and strengths. He takes the idea and reflects on it. Along these lines, there’s another story that the Frierdiker Rebbe tells at length in Sefer HaMaamarim, page 308. In a sicha there, the Frierdiker Rebbe tells a very interesting story about Reb Aizik of Homil and Reb Hillel of Paritch. He relates that once, when they were both visiting the Tzemach Tzedek, the Tzemach Tzedek called the Rebbe Maharash in the middle of the night. He told him to go to Reb Aizik’s lodgings and then to Reb Hillel’s. They were both staying in Lubavitch, each in a different place. The Tzemach Tzedek sent the Rebbe Maharash to ask them a simple question about some matter, and, I think, to look and see what they were doing. I don’t remember the details exactly. So the Rebbe Maharash went and looked in through their windows. Afterward, he returned to his father, the Tzemach Tzedek, and told him what he had seen. Reb Aizik was sitting and thinking. He was sitting without his hat, wearing only his yarmulke, leaning back against his chair with his head tilted upward. He looked absorbed in thought.

20:44 He may also have had a cigarette; I’m not sure I remember. The account describes all the details. Then the Rebbe Maharash went to Reb Hillel and saw that he, too, was sitting and thinking. But Reb Hillel was sitting like this—Reb Hillel was very short, and when he sat bent over in thought, you could hardly see him. He was completely hunched over, with a finger in his mouth, absorbed in thought. So the Tzemach Tzedek told the Rebbe Maharash: “You should know that both Reb Aizik and Reb Hillel are reflecting on the maamar I said on Shabbos. They are both reflecting on the same maamar. The difference is that Reb Aizik is reflecting on the richness, the wonder, and the intellectual depth of the maamar—on the lofty matters it discusses and what follows from them. He is stirred and takes pleasure in the spiritual richness of the teaching. Reb Hillel is reflecting on that same maamar, but he is thinking about how far he himself is from all of it. So it awakens in him a feeling of bitterness and longing.” That is why he was sitting in a contracted posture. In other words, even outwardly, Reb Aizik’s expansive posture and Reb Hillel’s contracted posture were connected to what each of them was reflecting on. Again, although they both studied and reflected on the same maamar the Rebbe had said, each took something different from it. Reb Aizik was known for the breadth of his understanding, so that aspect spoke to him more. Reb Hillel of Paritch took

22:47 more from the other aspect, that point. Each took the idea according to who he was. That is also what the Rebbe is saying here in Tanya. This is the meaning of “the hidden things belong to Hashem our G-d.” When it comes to love, each person’s love of Hashem takes shape according to his own understanding and feeling. There was a chossid named Reb Saadya Lieberow. There’s a grandson of his here who has the same name too, isn’t there? It is told that Reb Saadya Lieberow related that when his grandfather was in Lubavitch, the Rebbe Rashab once held a farbrengen with the students. The Rebbe, when he was young, spoke to them about love and fear of Hashem. The Rebbe Rashab was known for strongly urging the students to work on love and fear of Hashem. After all, the Rebbe Rashab wrote Kuntres HaAvodah, Kuntres HaTefillah, and Kuntres Eitz HaChayim, and he repeatedly emphasizes that, contrary to what some mistakenly think, this is not only for a select few. Every person must put effort into it and work on it. So Gronem, the mashpia, was there, if I’m not mistaken, and asked the Rebbe Rashab why he said they had to work on love and fear of Hashem. After all, Chassidus says that every Jew has love and fear of Hashem by nature. The Rebbe Rashab answered him: “Jews have love and fear by nature, but chassidim do not.” Chassidim have to bring everything about through avodah. Chassidim demand that love and fear of Hashem come specifically through work and effort. That is the avodah of Chassidus.

24:52 Today, 14 Cheshvan, is the yahrzeit of the Raza. The Rebbe told several stories about the Raza in connection with 14 Cheshvan. Speaking about him, the Rebbe said that he was a hidden person. There are quite a few stories about the Raza, and one of them shows what a great mind he had. There are many stories about that. I heard this one from Reb Mendel Futerfas. Once there was a fire in Lubavitch, and the Raza’s factory burned down. He had a glass factory, and it burned down. People came to tell him. He had lost the whole business, all the money he had invested—everything was gone. An ordinary person, hearing that his entire factory had gone up in flames, would go out of his mind, faint, shout, cry. The Raza came to the site of the fire. He stood there looking at it calmly. Then, in the middle of it all, he took out a cigarette and began smoking as he watched everything burn, as though it had nothing to do with him. The chassidim couldn’t believe it. How could someone be so calm? He was losing all his money, everything he had put into it, and he just stood there quietly, coolly. So the Raza explained it to them. He said that when an ordinary person hears news like this, that such a disaster has happened to him, what happens?

27:18 He starts crying and faints. Then they bring him around, and he becomes ill. He lies in bed for weeks, depressed. After a few weeks he gets up and says, “What am I going to do? Lie in bed my whole life? I have to do something.” So he goes out, takes a loan, starts a new business, and begins working. After about two years, he’s back to a normal life. “But,” the Raza said, “the Tzemach Tzedek said I have a quick mind. I grasp things quickly. So in one minute, I went through those two years. I did it in a second. I’m already two years on and back at work. After two years, I can smoke a cigarette calmly.” Just a story about dealing with emotions.