Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 44 - Part 3

00:01 Chapter 44, near the bottom. “But one…” The Alter Rebbe explains here once again that, broadly speaking, there are two levels of love: ahavas olam and ahavah rabbah. The Alter Rebbe says that within each of these two levels are endlessly many degrees, each person according to his own measure. Every Jew has his own level, according to what he senses in his heart. Each person has it according to his understanding, according to his knowledge and according to what his heart can grasp. Hakadosh Boruch Hu becomes known… Hakadosh Boruch Hu attaches Himself to each person according to what that person grasps in his heart, according to what he understands and knows. That is why, the Alter Rebbe says, Torah and mitzvos are called “the revealed things”: they are the same for everyone. “One Torah and one law.” When it comes to the practical observance of mitzvos, all the Jewish people have one Shulchan Aruch. One Torah and one law for all of us. But when we come to love and awe, these are “the hidden things that belong to Hashem our G-d.” Why are they hidden? Because here, each person apprehends G-dliness according to his own understanding and feelings. That is why they are called hidden things. This is what the Alter Rebbe says about the many levels of love of Hashem in general. Now the Alter Rebbe continues in this chapter and introduces a particular kind, a level of love that does belong to every single person. And the Alter Rebbe speaks about this particular level in a very special way. But let’s look inside. “But,” the Alter Rebbe says near the bottom—yes, one line from the bottom—“but one…” “But there is one love that encompasses all the aspects and levels of ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam.” There is

02:07 one kind of love that we are going to learn about now, and this love has all the advantages. It has both the advantage of ahavah rabbah and the advantage of ahavas olam. We explained in the previous class the general difference between ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam. Generally, ahavah rabbah is a love that comes from above downward, and so it has the advantage of coming from above downward: it does not have the limits of the world. It is an unlimited love that comes from above downward. Ahavas olam, on the other hand, is a limited love, a love measured by the bounds and limits of the world. Why? Because it comes through contemplation of matters connected to the world. The Alter Rebbe says there is a kind of love that we will learn about now that has the advantages of both ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam together. We’ll soon see why. “And it is equally accessible to every soul among the Jewish people.” The Alter Rebbe points out another advantage: this love is equally accessible to everyone. It is something anyone can attain, which is remarkable. On the one hand, you’re saying that this love combines ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam, with all their advantages. So I might have thought it must be a very special, very high, exalted level, belonging only to a select few. The Alter Rebbe says just the opposite: precisely this level that we are about to discuss, this love with all the advantages of both ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam, is equally accessible to every soul. It is a love that belongs to every Jew. In other words, it does not have the limitation we mentioned earlier about love: that it belongs to “the hidden things,” with each person having

03:56 a different love, so that one person cannot learn it from another, because, as we said, each person has it according to his own measure. Specifically about this love, the Alter Rebbe says that it is equally accessible to every soul. And the Alter Rebbe adds: “And it is an inheritance to us from our forefathers.” This love also has the advantage of being an inheritance. We received it as an inheritance from our forefathers. At first glance, the Alter Rebbe is saying this to explain why it is equally accessible to every soul: because it is an inheritance from our forefathers. Since we received this love from them as an inheritance, it is like what the Alter Rebbe said earlier in Tanya, at the beginning of Tanya, in chapters 18 and 19, about hidden love. The Alter Rebbe said that there is this concept of hidden love. That is not what he is discussing here; this is a different kind of love. Look, here he is talking about a love connected to sustenance; there he is talking about a natural love. And the Alter Rebbe said that every Jew has inherited from our forefathers the capacity for mesirus nefesh, that it is equally present in every soul and that we received it as an inheritance from our forefathers. Along those lines, the Alter Rebbe says here that this love has the advantage of having been inherited from our forefathers, and therefore it is equally accessible to every soul. But as we continue through the chapter, we will see that these are two different things. Look, later in the chapter we will soon see that these are two separate points. One is that it is equally accessible to every soul, and the other is that it is an inheritance from our forefathers. In other words, these are two distinct ideas. The love we are about to learn about has two separate advantages. One is that it is equally accessible to every soul: this love is something shared that everyone can attain equally. And the Alter Rebbe adds another point: it is an inheritance from our forefathers. In other words,

05:50 something could be an inheritance from our forefathers and still not be equally accessible to every soul. Yes, as we will see later in the chapter, we’ll understand that better. For now, let’s continue in the chapter to find out what love he is talking about. Afterward, we’ll come back to the details we haven’t explained here. First the Alter Rebbe explains—let’s explain it, let’s look inside. The Alter Rebbe explains what love we are discussing. The Alter Rebbe says: “This is what is written in the Zohar on the verse, ‘My soul, I have desired You in the night,’ etc.” The Alter Rebbe cites the Zohar: this love we are about to learn about, a love equally accessible to every soul, which also has the advantage of the love and the… is the love the Zohar speaks of in connection with the verse “My soul, I have desired You in the night,” etc. There is a verse in Isaiah in which the prophet says, “My soul, I have desired You in the night.” If we translate the verse according to its simple meaning, “My soul, I have desired You in the night” means that my soul yearns—“desired” in the sense of yearning. Yearning. That’s it. That is “My soul, I have desired You in the night”: my soul yearns for Hakadosh Boruch Hu at night. Yes, that is the meaning. The verse speaks of love of Hashem and says, “My soul, I have desired You in the night.” My soul—whose soul are we talking about? The Jew’s soul. He says, “My soul, I have desired You in the night.” My soul yearns for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, wants Hakadosh Boruch Hu, loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When? At night. So apparently there is a question about the verse that the Zohar comes to raise, clarify and explain. It is as if there is a grammatical problem in the verse, if we know a little Lashon Hakodesh. There is a problem with the grammar of the verse. Why? What is the problem? The problem

07:48 is that if this is the meaning of the verse, it should have said, “Nafshi avascha balaylah,” not “Nafshi ivisicha.” If we translate the verse word for word as it appears in Isaiah, it seems to say: “My soul, I desire You.” “Ivisicha” means “I yearn for You.” Right? At night. So there is a duplication here. “My soul”—my soul; “I desire You”—I want You. “My soul, I want You.” “My soul wants You.” What does it mean to say, “My soul, I want You”? That is a duplication of expression. So if that is the plain meaning of the verse, it should have said, “Nafshi avascha balaylah”—“My soul wants You at night.” My soul wants Hakadosh Boruch Hu. But not “my soul, I want You.” “Ivisicha” makes it as though it refers to the person a second time. So that is not understood. That is the Zohar’s question here. The Zohar therefore explains the verse much more deeply, and that resolves the question. The Zohar says that one should love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It explains that the meaning of the verse is that we must love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The word it uses means love, as in “awe and love”: “love” is love. One must love Hakadosh Boruch Hu “with the love of soul and spirit.” A person must love Hakadosh Boruch Hu with the love of his soul and spirit. What does love of soul and spirit mean? “As these are attached to the body, and the body loves them,” etc. Just as the soul and spirit are attached to the body—the soul and spirit are clothed in the body—the body loves the soul. Physically, quite literally. A person loves being alive; he loves his soul. You say, “I love—” A person

10:03 He loves himself; he loves life. A normal person—if he’s simply a normal person, right?—loves to live. He wants to live, he loves living, he values life. He protects his life and takes care of his health. He wants to be alive, to be healthy, to be a person. So a person’s body has a love for the soul. The Zohar says that this is the meaning of “My soul, I desire You at night.” Right? A person should love Hakadosh Boruch Hu the way he loves his own soul. Now the whole meaning of the verse becomes clear. It means something entirely different from the interpretation we gave earlier. Let’s look inside, and you’ll see for yourself. He explains: “And this is the meaning of the verse, ‘My soul, I desire You’: Since You, Hashem, are my soul and my true life, therefore I desire You.” That’s the meaning of the verse. A person says to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “My soul.” Who is “my soul”? You, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “My soul.” We say to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “My soul.” Because You are my soul, You are my life; You, Hashem, are my soul and my true life. A person comes to the recognition, the conclusion, the understanding, the knowledge, the feeling, that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is his true soul, his true life, the Life of life. So naturally I say, “My soul.” Once I’ve come to recognize that You, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, are my soul, then “I desire You”—that is why I want You at night. Right? So now we understand the verse: it isn’t a repetition. “My soul” is the reason, the explanation. Because You, Hashem, are my soul, therefore I desire You; therefore I, the person, want and yearn for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “Meaning that I desire and yearn for You as a person yearns for the life of his soul.” I desire and yearn—“yearn” in the sense of, of, of—

12:11 Longing. And not—ta’avah with a vav, with a beis. Ta’avah with a vav is... appetite with a beis. “Yearn” in the sense of love: “To love Hashem your G-d, to listen to His voice.” Love here means wanting. These are expressions of desire, longing and yearning, a kind of delight. So I want and yearn for Hakadosh Boruch Hu as a person yearns for the life of his soul, just as a person has a desire and a will to live. Up to this point, the Alter Rebbe has explained the words “my soul” and “I desire You.” Now what about the word “at night”? What happens at night? Why specifically at night? Why not during the day? There’s another word in the verse. The Alter Rebbe quoted “at night,” and now he comes to explain that part of the verse too. First, the Alter Rebbe explained the first two words: “My soul” is the contemplation. A person must contemplate and come to recognize that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is “my soul,” my soul or my life, and consequently, “I desire You”—I want You. What does “at night” mean? The Alter Rebbe explains: “When he is weak and afflicted”—when a person is in a state of weakness or distress, afflicted, hungry, thirsty, weak or sick, in any situation where his body feels weak—“he desires and yearns for his soul to return to him.” When a person is weak, unwell and in distress, his desire to live awakens more strongly. Precisely when a person is distressed, ill or in danger, his desire and will to live awaken much more than they do in the ordinary course of the day. “And likewise when he goes to sleep”—the same thing happens at night. When a person goes to sleep, “he desires and wishes for his soul to return to him when he awakens from his sleep.” A person goes to sleep. As we know, when a person goes to sleep, sleep

14:30 is a part of death—one-sixtieth, as the Gemara says. So a person goes to sleep. What do we pray before going to sleep? “Into Your hand I entrust my spirit; You have redeemed me, Hashem, G-d of truth.” We ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to whom we entrust our soul, to return it to us. In fact, in the wording of Hamapil we ask: “And awaken me from my sleep in the morning.” What is the last request a person makes before going to sleep? That he should be able to wake up in the morning. Why don’t we ask for that in the middle of the day? At any moment a person could suddenly be walking down the street, and death could occur. It can happen at any moment. Nevertheless, during ordinary times a person is in an ordinary state, and he doesn’t think about it. When he finds himself in the opposite kind of situation—when he is sick, afflicted or hungry, or at night before going to sleep—then he notices how much he wants to live, and he asks for it. The desire and wish to be alive again the next day awaken within him. That is the analogy of the body and the soul. A person wants to live. And when in particular does his desire to live awaken? Precisely at that time—when? When he is in distress over something, when he is ill, or at night. “So, too, I desire and yearn for the light of the blessed Ein Sof, the true Life of life.” In the same way, a person must want and yearn—“my soul.” Once I come to recognize what true life is: true life is the life that comes from Above. Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the true Life of life. “To draw Him into myself through engaging in Torah when I awaken from my sleep at night, for the Torah and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are entirely one.” That is the meaning of “My soul, I desire You at night.” What is significant about “at night” here? It is specifically at night. Night means a time of darkness, not necessarily physical night. He means a time when there is

16:28 concealment and obscurity. That is precisely when a person’s desire to live awakens more than it does at an ordinary time. So too, “at night”—specifically at night. When a person is in the light, in ordinary circumstances, he doesn’t pay as much attention to this. It is specifically at night, when a person is in a state of concealment and obscurity, in a dark world, in a place where he feels distant from G-dliness, that his yearning and desire awaken even more: “My soul,” the delight of being alive. That can happen specifically at night. Precisely then I feel what “my soul” means, and consequently, “I desire You.” That is what the Alter Rebbe is saying here. Therefore, specifically at night, a person wakes from sleep and feels the meaning of “my soul”—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the true Life of life. So he gets up at night and immediately wants to learn. The desire to study Torah awakens in him so that he can connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is what he will now bring from the Zohar: “For as it is written in the Zohar, a person should, out of love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, rise every night to engage in His service until morning.” Therefore a person should get up in the middle of the night. The Zohar says to wake from sleep and engage in Torah study until morning. By doing so, a person shows that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is “my soul.” Just as a person gets up in the morning and the first thing he feels is the desire to live, so too, because true life is G-dliness, Torah and mitzvos, a person should get up in the middle of the night, the Zohar says, and sit down right away to learn until morning. There is, of course, a great deal to discuss about these ideas, but just one point for now. The Alter Rebbe makes a point here about “My soul, I desire You at night.” That is, the point the Alter Rebbe explains

18:29 here is that a person must contemplate the idea of “my soul”: Hakadosh Boruch Hu is my life; He is the soul. We love being alive. A person wants to live. Love of life is a love everyone has. Every normal person loves living, wants to live and values life. It’s just that, as we said, a person doesn’t think about it all day. A person simply doesn’t think about it. This is what is known from the Baal Shem Tov’s expression: “A constant delight is not felt as a delight.” The delight of life, and likewise the desire for life, is constant. The same is true in the higher worlds. When a person eats some special food, he enjoys it. He plays a special game, does something out of the ordinary, or hears some special music, and he enjoys it. Why? Because it is something new. But in truth, what is the greatest delight? Being alive. There is no greater delight than the very delight of life. I don’t feel it. Why don’t I feel it? Not because it isn’t a delight, but because it is a constant delight. A constant delight is not felt as a delight. When something is there all the time, a person feels delight in something new, something different. When it’s very cold and a person drinks hot tea, he enjoys the hot tea because it’s a change. Or the reverse: when it’s very hot and you drink a glass of cold water, you enjoy it. A person takes pleasure in what is new and in what contrasts with his present state. That is why, on ordinary days, a person doesn’t feel the delight of being alive, because it is part of life. It isn’t—no. When does a person begin to feel the delight, the preciousness and the desire for life? When he is in pain, when he

20:24 When a person is sick, when he doesn’t feel well, when he’s weak, suddenly he begins to appreciate life. “Oh, what am I going to do? I want to live.” Life becomes precious to him. He feels a very strong delight in it, and a very strong desire: “I want to live.” In fact, this happens at night too. Precisely because it’s nighttime, a time of darkness, his desire and delight in living awaken all the more. That’s in the physical sense. The Alter Rebbe says that the same is true—indeed, all the more so—with regard to G-dliness. When a person comes to recognize what life truly is—that true life is G-dliness, that real life is G-dliness—then, “You who cleave to Hashem your G-d are all alive today.” True life is specifically a life of G-dliness. So when I come to recognize what “my soul” means, what true life is—that it is Hakadosh Boruch Hu, it is G-dliness—then just as life is precious to me, G-dliness becomes just as precious. I feel that same meaning, that same delight in G-dliness. So much so that if a situation arises that is the opposite of that, my longing and thirst for G-dliness grow even stronger. And when does that show itself? As he says here: when a person gets up at night, he’ll immediately take a book and want to learn, because this is what’s precious to him. It’s what he loves; it’s what he lives for. Well, there are still many things here that we need to explain, and we’ll do that in the next lesson. We also need to understand why this love has the qualities of both ahavah rabbah and ahavas olam, and how one comes to recognize that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is true life, and so on. There are several things to explain here, and with Hashem’s help we’ll explain them in the next lesson. I just want to end with

22:06 one point—two points—since we’ve come to the subject of life. One is the point in today’s Tanya, in the Tanya lesson we learned today in Chitas: “The life of a tzaddik is not physical life, but spiritual life—faith, awe, and love.” It’s the same point the Alter Rebbe makes here, though of course on a higher level. For a tzaddik, what defines life? For a tzaddik, life is spiritual life: faith, awe, and love. That is why the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya, in the lessons we’re studying these days, the matter of connecting to a tzaddik even after the tzaddik has physically departed from the world. Because the tzaddik’s life is spiritual life—faith, awe, and love—in that respect nothing changes. The tzaddik is present and alive here below, bringing life to all who live. And this bears directly on the whole matter of connecting to a tzaddik, on the point the Rebbe instills in chassidim. For the Rebbe, life means faith, awe, and love. Other things are not life to him. Yes, flesh, physical things, food, all those desires—they have no importance at all. They aren’t life. For him, life is faith, awe, and love. And the Rebbe instills in chassidim this feeling that true life is specifically life with G-dliness. We receive that through our connection to the Rebbe. This is one of the things that connection can accomplish. There’s also the matter of Torah Chaim, the videos we can watch in which we see the Rebbe speaking. Then we see it much more clearly. You can listen to a sicha and study it. Of course, all of the Rebbe’s teachings revolve around this point. In all his sichos and maamarim, the Rebbe tries to instill in us a life of G-dliness, to impress upon us that true life is only G-dliness, Torah, and mitzvos,

23:56 and that everything else is unimportant. But when you see the Rebbe, and see his face as he says it, and see how the Rebbe lives—and when the Rebbe says it, he simply lives it, as they say. He believes it completely. It is the true reality. So seeing that gives us a much stronger feeling for it: the feeling of “my soul,” that we should feel that G-dliness, Torah, and mitzvos are true life. And from that, a hunger, a desire, and a delight in connecting to G-dliness will awaken in us, even at night, in the time of exile. So that’s the point connected with watching the video. There’s another point we need to discuss, but we’ll leave it for another time.