Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 44 - Part 13

00:01 Speaker 1 In the last part of chapter 44, the Alter Rebbe answers a question. It is really a general question, not just one that arises here in this chapter. It goes to the heart of Tanya and comes up right at the beginning. But the Alter Rebbe waited until here to answer it. What is the question? We have said several times that, broadly speaking, what the Alter Rebbe wanted to explain in Tanya is the meaning of “in your heart.” The Chassidus book Be’er Mayim Chayim. Ah, excellent. Okay. We’re moving along. We’ve spoken several times about the avodah the Alter Rebbe comes to explain in Tanya. Right, one of the main things he comes to explain is the verse, “For the matter is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” Specifically, “in your heart.” How can we say that serving Hashem is very near to everyone—not only when it comes to action, but also “in your heart”? “In your heart” means with love and awe, with feeling in the heart. After all, we are talking about a beinoni. In the Tanya we are learning now, in chapter 12, we see that the most a beinoni achieves is control over thought, speech, and action. He does not gain control over his middos, over the feelings of his heart. He still has desires. So how can the verse say that even “in your heart” is very near to each and every person? How can serving Hashem with the heart be very near to everyone? The Alter Rebbe raises this question in chapter 17. In his words: “But at first glance, ‘in your heart’ is contrary to what we observe.” That is his question: it is contrary to what we observe. What, then, does the Alter Rebbe answer? As we explained a few classes ago, in Tanya as a whole,

02:46 Speaker 1 the Alter Rebbe gives two answers, two approaches. Chassidim say this, and the Rebbe also cites it in Likkutei Sichos. The Rebbe confirms this explanation of what the Alter Rebbe meant when he wrote on Tanya’s title page that he would explain things thoroughly “by a long and short way.” According to one explanation, these are two ways. What does “long and short” mean? That there are two approaches: a long way and a short way. There are two explanations, yes? Does “a long and short way” mean one way that is both long and short? That is one explanation the Rebbe gives in his sichos, drawing on the story of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya about a short but long way and a long but short way. It is one way with the advantage of being long and the advantage of being short. That is one explanation. The Rebbe also brings another explanation: “a long and short way” refers to two things. The Alter Rebbe will explain it both by a long way and by a short way. What are these two approaches? He explains one in chapter 17 itself. There the Alter Rebbe answers what “in your heart” means. He explains that everyone has control over his mind. Every person has an intellect, and even a beinoni, whose heart is not under his control and who has desires, has control over his mind. And the mind rules over the heart. So because his mind is under his control, he can learn about Hashem’s greatness and contemplate matters of G-dliness. Through studying and understanding them, he will come to love and awe—at least the love and awe needed for what is required of a beinoni: love that brings him to action. There are

04:50 Speaker 1 several levels of love, and he is not expected to reach love with all its revelations and levels. A beinoni can awaken the love that leads to action through contemplation. That is the first answer the Alter Rebbe gives in chapter 17. This is called the long way. Why? Simply because you have to learn a great deal. You have to know many profound teachings and contemplate them. The Mitteler Rebbe writes in his Shaar Hayichud that he heard explicitly, firsthand, from his Rebbe, who had heard explicitly from the Maggid of Mezritch, that contemplation must be detailed, not general. The Rebbe also brings this in the maamar Basi Legani 5732. I don’t know if you have learned it yet—the maamar for this year. Contemplation has to be detailed. So for contemplation in the mind to affect me, to awaken a feeling of love, I have to learn many profound teachings, many matters of G-dliness. Then I can contemplate them and be stirred by them. That is why it is called the long way: it takes a great deal of learning, knowledge, and contemplation. In chapter 18, the Alter Rebbe introduces another way. What does a person do if he does not know very much? He does not have a great intellect and is not capable of prolonged contemplation. The Alter Rebbe says there is another way—the short way. What is it? The Alter Rebbe explains that every Jew already has a hidden love, inherited from our forefathers. This love is already there; we do not have to create a new love. We inherited it from our forefathers. By nature, every Jew neither wants nor is able to be separate from G-dliness, and every Jew wants to be absorbed in the Infinite, like a candle before a great flame, like a flame that wants to leap from its wick and be absorbed in the fire’s light. That is how the soul naturally longs to connect with G-dliness. This is called the hidden love.

06:57 Speaker 1 It is in the soul of every Jew. So you have it by nature. Even a simple person, even the most unworthy person, has it too. The whole point is to become aware of it—to know that this is the reality, to know it is there, to think about it and call it to mind. Remembering this can give a person the strength to overcome the yetzer in thought, speech, and action. This is love revealed through the short way. This love has a particular advantage: it is an essential love that every Jew possesses, a love that extends even to self-sacrifice. Everyone has it; it only needs to be awakened and brought into the open. These, then, are the two ways the Alter Rebbe writes about in Tanya, the long way and the short way: two ways to awaken love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. One is intellectual, through contemplation. The other love is much more accessible, because it is already there; you only have to reveal it. That is the point made in Tanya. Now what is the question? When you learn this and hear this idea, a very simple question arises: Why do we need the long way? If there is a short way, and the Alter Rebbe is looking for a way to bring love of Hashem within everyone’s reach—to explain how it is very near and how a person can put it into practice—then why, if there are two ways, a long way and a short way, would anyone need to seek out the long way? The short way is very near. So why talk about the long way at all? There is no need to

08:56 Speaker 1 To explain it as an option. If we explain it according to the explanation we gave—that there is another way to understand the plain meaning of Tanya, that it is one path that is both long and short, one single explanation—then there is no question. According to the other explanation, at any rate, it is clear in Tanya that the Alter Rebbe gives two approaches. He gives two approaches to reaching love of Hashem: either through contemplation or by awakening the hidden love. So why do we need contemplation if we can do it by a short path? What is the advantage of ahavas olam, the love reached through contemplation? We raised that question. It is the question of all questions. The hidden love is quicker; it is accessible and applies equally to everyone; and it has more of an element of self-sacrifice. From every angle, it has many, many advantages over the love reached by the long path. Nevertheless, the Alter Rebbe brings the long path. Not only does he bring it, he presents it as the first approach. First he gives the long path, and only afterward the short path. What is the explanation? The answer is written right here in chapter 44. The Alter Rebbe gives two answers. The first answer is one particular advantage. We will see the second answer inside; it is really the foundation of the entire approach to serving Hashem taught by the Alter Rebbe, of Chabad Chassidus. Let’s look inside. “However.” Yes. Again: the lesson begins with the word “however.” The Alter Rebbe says: What have we been discussing in this chapter? Here, too, we are talking about that same point. In this chapter the Alter Rebbe discussed a love that every Jew has as an inheritance. Yes. We spoke here about two levels of love: the love expressed by “My soul desires You,” and the love expressed by “For You are

11:07 Speaker 1 our Father.” The Alter Rebbe explained at length in this chapter that we have this love as an inheritance. It is a natural love that every Jew inherits. Every Jew naturally loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu because He is our life, and also because He is our Father. It is in our nature, an inheritance from our forefathers, from Avraham Avinu and Moshe Rabbeinu. We received it, so all we need to do is reveal it. Seemingly. The Alter Rebbe also said earlier that this love even has an advantage over the hidden love discussed in chapter 19. Why? Because this love also has the advantage of ahavah rabbah, a love given as a gift. Yes, we discussed that at length in previous lessons. So, seemingly, this is the very best kind of love. From what we have learned so far, it would seem that the love of “My soul desires You,” or the love of “our Father,” is the best kind of love. It has every advantage. It has the advantage of being natural and hidden within us: it is a short path. It is already there inside; it only needs to be revealed. It has another advantage as well: the Alter Rebbe says that, to awaken this love in these forms, contemplation is needed—contemplating what “my soul” means and what “our Father” means. So it also has the advantage of understanding. It also has the advantage of being a gift from above, a light ... from the world of Atzilus. It has every advantage—far more, even, than the hidden love we learned about in the opening chapters of Tanya. The love of “My soul desires You” and “our Father” has all the advantages of love from every angle. So why did the Alter Rebbe begin with the other approach? Why did he give that advice? This makes the question even stronger. It is the same question as before, but stronger. That is why he

12:55 Speaker 1 asks it here, because here the question is much more forceful. After explaining that the love of “My soul desires You” and “our Father” has every advantage, the question becomes stronger still: What is gained by the love reached through the long path, through contemplating the greatness of Hashem? The Alter Rebbe says: “Nevertheless, one must exert one’s intellect to comprehend and attain the level of ahavas olam as well.” Nevertheless, the Alter Rebbe does not take back what he said earlier. A person needs to make the effort, to study and engage his intellect, in order to attain ahavas olam too. As we said in chapter 43, ahavas olam is based on contemplating the greatness of Hashem as it relates to the world: contemplating Hashem’s oneness as it is revealed in the world, and His greatness as it is revealed in the world. All the points in the explanation of Hashem’s greatness set out in the book—how His greatness is expressed in the nullification of created beings and worlds, the whole range of matters concerning the relationship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu with the world. That is ahavas olam, “which comes from contemplation and knowledge of the greatness of Hashem.” To reach ahavas olam, one must contemplate and delve deeply into the greatness of Hashem. Why is this necessary? The Alter Rebbe explains: “In order to increase the bonfire of love, with fiery sparks.” That is, “with fiery sparks.” Is that a beis?

14:25 Speaker 2 A beis.

14:27 Speaker 1 It is “to increase the bonfire of his love with fiery sparks and a mighty flame, and a blaze that rises to the heavens, until ‘many waters cannot extinguish it,’ and so on, ‘nor can rivers wash it away,’ and so on.” That is one explanation. There is a special advantage to contemplating the greatness of Hashem: it increases the bonfire of love’s fiery sparks in an extraordinary way. Its fiery sparks, mighty flame, and blaze rising to the heavens become such that nothing can shake it. “Many waters cannot extinguish it, nor can rivers wash it away.” Understand this. So what is the explanation here? What advantage does intellectual love have? When intellectual love comes through contemplating the greatness of Hashem, it increases the blaze of love so that nothing can shake it. For there is an advantage and a special quality to love that is “like fiery sparks and a mighty flame,” and so on. There is a special quality when love takes the form of fiery sparks and a mighty flame. The Rebbe writes “toward Kudsha Brich Hu,” and in the Rebbe’s notes on “toward Kudsha Brich Hu,” he leaves it as requiring further examination. Why does the wording say “with fiery sparks” once, and then “like fiery sparks”? Earlier it said “with fiery sparks”; here it says “like fiery sparks.” The Rebbe leaves it as requiring further examination, because the distinction in wording is precise. On a plain reading there is some distinction, but what it is the Rebbe leaves as requiring further examination. In any case: “For there is an advantage and a special quality to love like fiery sparks and a mighty flame, and so on, which comes from contemplating the greatness of the blessed Ein Sof, over the two forms of love mentioned above, when they are not like fiery sparks and a flame,” and so on. Here it is the same thing. So the Alter Rebbe is saying that love reached through contemplation has an advantage over the love that a Jew possesses naturally. That natural love

17:15 Speaker 1 is generally called love like water. By contrast, when love comes through contemplation, it is love like fire. Natural love is love like water; love reached through contemplation is love like fiery sparks. What is the explanation? Why is love reached through contemplation specifically like fiery sparks, while natural love is love like water? And what is the advantage of love being like fiery sparks? The Alter Rebbe says it is like water, at any rate, generally speaking. We say, “I have come into My garden, My sister, My bride.” Right? All the maamarim discuss “I have come into My garden.” Nobody discusses “My sister, My bride.” Not the maamar of the Rebbe Rashab, but there is a maamar in Chassidus that discusses “My sister, My bride.” The wording here is precise: “My sister, My bride.” These are two things—and not just two different things, but two opposites. A sister is one thing and a bride is another. You cannot marry your sister, right? So “my sister” and “my bride” are two relationships that do not go together. Yet Shir Hashirim uses them together repeatedly. It speaks of the bride and calls her “my sister.” How many times? “Open to me, my sister, my beloved, my dove, my perfect one.” There, too, “my sister” and “my beloved”: “my beloved” means a wife, while “my sister” means a sister. A sister and a wife are two different things. So how can it say, “My sister, My bride”? Chassidus explains that a Jew has both qualities. A Jew has a bond of “my sister” and a bond of “my bride.” What is the difference between “my sister” and “my bride”? And where do we see this plainly in life? In the lives of a man and a woman. The difference between the love of a brother and sister and the love of a husband and wife. The love of a brother and sister has an advantage and a drawback, and the love of a husband and wife has an advantage and a drawback. The advantage of a brother and sister’s love is that it is a natural, essential love. It is always there. It is the kind of love that can’t—

19:22 Speaker 1 You can break that. That’s why a brother and sister can also quarrel. Of course, they shouldn’t, but sometimes you see a brother and sister arguing. Why does that happen? Because neither of them is thinking of getting divorced. That’s how it is. They say: Why do siblings have no problem arguing? Because you can’t stop being siblings. So they can argue. When a husband and wife argue, it becomes a whole problem. The Torah also provided [unclear]. In any case, as far as the point here is concerned, the bond between a brother and sister is a natural love. It’s a bond that doesn’t change. It doesn’t rise or fall; it’s always the same. It’s a cool love. On the one hand, that’s its strength: it’s intrinsic, a love that can’t be broken, a love that remains in every situation and at all times. Its drawback is that it’s cool—“kalt blut.” It never has a flame or excitement; it has no spice. It always remains cool. The love between a husband and wife, a groom and bride, is the opposite. On the one hand, it isn’t an intrinsic bond. They’re two separate people from two different families, and they have to build the bond. There is kiddushin, and there is divorce. You can build it, and you can destroy it. It’s a love that isn’t... [unclear], but it has excitement. It has an element of renewal—a love like flames of fire. So that is the meaning of “my sister, my bride.” We are saying that the bond between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu has both strengths. That is the meaning of “I have come into My garden, my sister, my bride.” In other words, Hakadosh Boruch Hu says to the Jewish people: At the Giving of the Torah, two things happened. A Jew formed an intrinsic bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, in the manner of

21:17 Speaker 1 “my sister.” That is one thing that happened at the Giving of the Torah. On the other hand, there was also the bond of “my bride,” the bond between a groom and bride: a Jew developed a renewed connection to G-dliness, with excitement and desire, like flames of fire. Similarly, that is what we are saying here in Tanya. What is the difference between love reached by the short path and love reached by the long path? What did we say the short path is? It means awakening the love you already have by nature—the love that comes from a Jew’s inherent bond with G-dliness, which we learn about in chapter 19 of Tanya; the love of “My soul desires You”; and the love of “For You are our Father.” That love does not have fire in it of itself. It is an intrinsic love. “For You are our Father”—the bond between a son and father is not ordinarily a bond of fiery passion either. It is also a cool bond. Of course, when a son is far from his father, longing can arise. That takes a certain kind of contemplation. You can awaken flames of fire in this love too. That is why, if you look inside Tanya, the Alter Rebbe says, “when it is not like flames of fire.” That is his wording—not that it cannot become like flames of fire. It can. The Rebbe writes in his notes here on Tanya that a person can contemplate: a son can contemplate his father’s greatness and then feel flames of fire as well. But that is not the usual way. It isn’t something that happens naturally. In general, the love between a son and father is a natural love. And similarly,

23:10 Speaker 1 the love of “My soul desires You” is also a natural love. A person loves being alive, but he isn’t stirred by his own life. On the contrary, he usually doesn’t even feel it. As we learned at the beginning of the chapter, only when he is ill and so on does he go looking for it. There has to be some distance for him to feel it. But generally, natural love is a love of that kind. By contrast, love that comes through contemplation means that you bring forth a love you don’t have by nature—a kind of love you have to work to awaken, a new love that contemplation arouses. So when love comes through contemplation, it also has the advantage of being like flames of fire. The love has a quality of newness, of freshness, and therefore it has fiery passion, like the bond between a groom and bride. It’s a different kind of love, one that comes with flames of fire. And therefore, says the Alter Rebbe, one must also make the effort to reach this love specifically through contemplation, “to increase the bonfire of love,” because there is a special advantage when love is a bonfire—“like the advantage of gold over silver.” With Hashem’s help, we’ll explain in the next lesson what “like the advantage of gold over silver” means.