Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 46 - Part 14

00:07 We’re at the end of chapter 46. The Rebbe explains here that when a Jew performs a mitzvah, he becomes completely united with Hakadosh Boruch Hu—they become one. The Rebbe says that this is the meaning of the wording of the blessing we recite: “Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us.” It means that through performing the mitzvah, we become one with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And accordingly, as we say in Shema, “You shall perform all My commandments and be holy to your G-d, and I will be your G-d.” When a Jew performs a mitzvah, then through doing it, “you shall be holy”—he becomes holy. “To your G-d” means, as the Rebbe explained, that he becomes one with the holiness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, with the holiness of His very Essence. “I will be your G-d”—like “the G-d of Avraham and the G-d of Yitzchak.” Just as Avraham and Yitzchak were one with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, a chariot for Him, so too is every Jew when he performs a mitzvah. That is why one must stand before a person while he is performing a mitzvah: because at that moment he is one with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And the Rebbe explained that although the person does not feel it—I don’t feel, when I perform a mitzvah, that I’m becoming one with Hakadosh Boruch Hu—that is no argument. The fact that I don’t feel it doesn’t interfere; it doesn’t prevent it from being true. The physical does not prevent it. The fact that the body, that the person, does not feel it makes no difference. It is the same for a great tzaddik and for a simple person, exactly the same. Here, on page 62, the Rebbe cites the verse, “I was brutish and did not know; I was like an animal with You. Yet I am always with You.” We learned this in the last class. So the Rebbe explains the verse. What is the plain meaning of the verse here? Asaf, who said this chapter in Tehillim—so

02:22 Asaf says it with ruach hakodesh on behalf of the entire Jewish people in exile. And in exile, we say, “I was brutish and did not know”: in exile a person does not feel it; he does not know. What does “did not know” mean? The Rebbe explains: it means “did not feel.” A person does not feel it because of the physicality of the body. More than that, in exile, because of the darkness of exile, a person does not feel the bond he forms with Hakadosh Boruch Hu when he studies Torah and performs a mitzvah. Nevertheless, he says, “I was like an animal with You”—I am like an animal. And yet, “I am always with You,” because the physical does not prevent the soul’s union with Him in the land of exile. That is what we learned in the previous class. There is an explanation here by the Rebbe, a wonderful explanation, which we didn’t have time to discuss in the previous class. In it, you can see once again how the Rebbe teaches us to read Tanya carefully—how much can be learned from every word. The Rebbe asks: At first glance, it is unusual for the Alter Rebbe to go into such detail: “And this is what Asaf says with ruach hakodesh on behalf of the entire Jewish people in exile.” Why does the Alter Rebbe need to give us all these details? Who said it? In what manner did he say it? For whom did he say it? What difference does all this detail make? The Alter Rebbe could simply have said: This is the meaning of the verse, “I was brutish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” But no—he says that Asaf said it, that he said it with ruach hakodesh, and for whom? On behalf of the entire Jewish people in exile. What is the Alter Rebbe trying to tell us here? The Rebbe goes on to ask several more questions, which we won’t get into. So the Rebbe

04:20 says, “That is to say.” What does the Rebbe want to add with the words “that is to say”? First of all, they imply that this is not the plain meaning. “That is to say”—as though there is a plain meaning here, and this is an interpretation. He seems to be introducing something that is not apparent from the plain reading. The Rebbe asks several more questions about what follows as well. The point is: Why does the Rebbe cite the whole verse at all? “I was brutish and did not know; I was like an animal with You. Yet I am always with You,” and so on. Only the end of the verse matters here—“I was like an animal with You. Yet I am always with You.” Why add “I was brutish and did not know”? There are several details to examine here. To go straight to the main point, the Rebbe gives an interesting explanation. The Rebbe says that, on a straightforward reading, Asaf said this verse in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. Asaf was one of the descendants of Korach—one of Korach’s grandchildren, let’s say—and he lived in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. He was among those who served in the Beis Hamikdash, one of the Levi’im who served there. And this entire chapter, at first glance, if you look at its plain meaning, is about Asaf speaking in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. So what is it about? Chapter 73? As it says in the title, or heading. The Rebbe said many times that we don’t know who wrote the headings, the introductions to each chapter in our Tehillim. In the Chabad edition, every chapter has an introduction. The Rebbe said that it is not known who wrote them. No one knows exactly who composed those introductions. But the Rebbe said that, judging by their content, it seems the author was a knowledgeable and reliable Jew who knew what he was writing, and generally what he writes fits the content and the subject. So the Rebbe, as it were, accepted them, even though it is not known

06:23 who wrote them. In general, you know that the Tehillim we have is not originally a Chabad edition. When they needed to print Tehillim after the Rebbe came to America, they used an edition that already existed—one that was not from Chabad. They took that same kind of Tehillim, in the same style, bought the—what do you call them—the printing plates, and printed it. It was not a Chabad Tehillim. It is called Tehillim Ohel Yosef Yitzchak because the Rebbe printed it after 5710 and named it for the Frierdiker Rebbe, after the Frierdiker Rebbe’s passing. But the Tehillim itself is not originally a Chabad edition, so there are errors in it; you can’t assume every detail is exact. It isn’t like the siddur, which the Rebbe himself prepared and checked carefully, with its various versions of Tehillim. The Rebbe wrote that. The Rebbe did not originally print the Tehillim; only after 5710 did the Rebbe take an existing edition. They took an ordinary Tehillim and printed it. So there are many errors in the Tehillim, and one cannot rely on it for every detail. And the accounts in it—the Rebbe told me this too—the accounts given for each chapter of Tehillim: he did not know who wrote them, but nevertheless one can rely on them because their content appears to be accurate. So here the introduction says that the point of chapter 73 of Tehillim is that it deals with a problem, a question. It is an age-old question: Why do the righteous suffer, and why do the wicked prosper? Not “a righteous person who suffers” in the sense used in Tanya. I mean the ordinary sense: Why are there righteous people who endure suffering and troubles, while wicked people have good lives? This is the question of questions, one that people have been asking for thousands of years. Some people think they invented this question. Look, there are many people you visit in their office, and they have complaints against Hakadosh Boruch Hu: Why do righteous people suffer, and why is this so? But this is not a new question. It is a question Asaf already considers in chapter 73 of Tehillim. He writes: “For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” Why do the wicked have good lives? And then: “Behold, these are the wicked, ever at ease, increasing in wealth. Surely I have purified my heart in vain... yet I have been afflicted all day.” Why does the righteous person suffer while the wicked person has a good life? It is the question of questions. So he says he did not understand it. Asaf speaks here, pondering how he cannot understand why things really are this way—why the righteous person has a difficult life and the wicked person a good one. And he continues, until later in the chapter, in verse 16, he writes: “When I considered how to understand this, it was a hardship in my eyes.” I thought about this matter, and it was very difficult for me, “until I came to the sanctuaries of G-d; then I understood their end.” Until I came to the Beis Hamikdash, to G-d’s sanctuary—I came to the Beis Hamikdash. He reached the place of the Mikdash, a place of holiness. There, the divine light shone for him and he felt the truth, and then he understood this question too. Once he felt the light of holiness that shone in the Beis Hamikdash, he understood that Hakadosh Boruch Hu knows what He is doing. So all his questions fell away. He understood why the righteous suffer and why the wicked prosper. Yes, and then he continues. So it is clear what the verse is talking about here. This chapter is specifically not speaking in the way the Alter Rebbe says. The Alter Rebbe writes

08:10 These are questions people have been asking for several thousand years. Some people think they invented this question. Look, there are plenty of people—whether you go to their office or see them on Facebook—who have complaints against Hakadosh Boruch Hu: Why do righteous people suffer, and why is it this way? But this is not a new question. It is a question Asaph already pondered in chapter 73 of Tehillim. He writes, “For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” Why do the wicked have good lives? And: “Behold, these are the wicked, always at ease; they increase in wealth. Surely in vain have I purified my heart... yet I have been afflicted all day long.” Why does the righteous person suffer while the wicked person has a good life? The question of all questions. So he says he did not understand it. Asaph is reflecting here on how he cannot understand why things really are this way—why the righteous person has a hard life and the wicked person has a good life. And he continues until, later in the chapter, in verse 16, he writes: “When I thought to understand this, it was a burden in my eyes.” I reflected on this matter, and it was very difficult for me, “until I entered the sanctuaries of G-d; then I understood their end.” Until I came to the Beis Hamikdash, to G-d’s sanctuary—I came to the Beis Hamikdash, to the Beis Hamikdash. He reached the site of the Beis Hamikdash, a place of holiness. There, the Divine light shone for him and he felt the truth, and then he understood this question too. Once he felt the light of holiness that shone in the Beis Hamikdash, he understood that Hakadosh Boruch Hu knows what He is doing. So all his questions fell away. He understood why things go badly for a righteous person and well for a wicked person. Yes, and then he continues. Now, it is clear what this verse is talking about. This chapter is speaking specifically not as the Alter Rebbe says. The Alter Rebbe writes

10:06 Asaph said this on behalf of the Jewish people in exile; Asaph was speaking about the time of exile. On a simple reading, though, the verse seems to be speaking about the time of the Beis Hamikdash. He says explicitly: “Until I entered the sanctuaries of G-d; then I understood their end.” When I reached the Beis Hamikdash, that was where I began to understand. But then the verses continue. A few verses later he says, “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” I was like a fool; I did not know, I did not understand. I was like an animal, and I was like a [unclear]. So this is the verse the Alter Rebbe brings. The Alter Rebbe is introducing a new interpretation here, one that differs from the straightforward reading of the verse. The straightforward reading places it in the time of the Beis Hamikdash: “Until I entered the sanctuaries of G-d.” When I came to the Beis Hamikdash, there I saw it, felt it, understood why the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper. The Alter Rebbe comes and says: “And this is what Asaph said with ruach hakodesh on behalf of the Jewish people in exile.” Asaph was speaking—not as that reading would suggest. The Alter Rebbe rejects that interpretation and says Asaph said it for the time of exile, for the Jewish people in exile. So where did the Alter Rebbe get this from? First, before continuing his explanation, the Alter Rebbe has to explain and bring proof: Asaph lived in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, so how did he know what would happen in exile? The Alter Rebbe therefore writes “with ruach hakodesh.” Why does the Alter Rebbe specify “with ruach hakodesh”? Because the Gemara says—there is a Gemara in Bava Basra and [unclear], I don’t remember where, somewhere in the Gemara—that Asaph was not a prophet. Just as the Gemara discusses various people, who was a prophet and who was not, the Gemara says

12:03 there that Asaph was not a prophet. So it would not be possible to say that Asaph spoke through prophecy. Nevertheless, Asaph had ruach hakodesh. Ruach hakodesh and prophecy are two different things. There is prophecy, and there is ruach hakodesh. Although he was not a prophet, he did have ruach hakodesh. Ruach hakodesh is not like prophecy. Prophecy is actual sight. Ruach hakodesh is a spiritual faculty, but through ruach hakodesh a person can still perceive things concerning the future. The precise difference between ruach hakodesh and prophecy does not matter here, but in any case, the Rebbe says that Asaph lived specifically in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, and nevertheless spoke these verses for the time of exile and for the Jewish people in exile. He had ruach hakodesh from his youth. Where did the Alter Rebbe get the idea that Asaph was speaking about [unclear]? The Alter Rebbe quotes the whole verse: “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You. Yet I am always with You.” It is precisely because of the verse’s extended, repeated wording, “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” What happened? What is the verse adding here? He already spoke about this earlier. He already said that he had a question about the righteous and the wicked, about why the wicked prosper. Why does a righteous person suffer, and why does a wicked person have it good? He had that question. He already wrote, “Until I entered the sanctuaries of G-d”—when I reached the Beis Hamikdash, I understood. Then the verse comes and says again, “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” What happened now? You have already reached the Beis Hamikdash and seen the truth, so everything is understood. What happened?

13:50 The verse says, “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” This extended wording indicates that Asaph is speaking here about a different period. In the first half of the chapter of Tehillim, up to “Until I entered the sanctuaries of G-d,” he is speaking about his own time, the time of the Beis Hamikdash, when G-dliness was revealed. When you came to the Beis Hamikdash, you saw the truth. You saw the Beis Hamikdash, you saw the ten miracles, and you saw [unclear]. You saw the revelation of G-dliness in the place of the Beis Hamikdash. And “just as one comes to see, so one comes to be seen”—in actual experience. A Jew felt the truth and had no questions. It was clear to him that everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu does is for the good. It is all good. But now, in the time of exile, the verse continues, “I was foolish and did not know; I was like an animal with You.” When is this speaking about? Asaph said it with ruach hakodesh about the Jewish people. This explains the Alter Rebbe’s lengthy wording. Since the Alter Rebbe is apparently taking the verse beyond its straightforward meaning—when a person looks at the chapter, it sounds as though it is speaking about the time of the Beis Hamikdash—the Alter Rebbe introduces a new point: no, these verses refer specifically to the time of exile. He therefore has to add that Asaph said it with ruach hakodesh. For whom did he say it? For the Jewish people, who in exile have no Beis Hamikdash, and therefore, “I was foolish and did not know.” A person in exile does not feel it: “I was like an animal with You.” Nevertheless, “Yet I am always with You.” Through faith, I know that the truth remains true even now. So that is the difference between the opening verses of the chapter and the later verses. Here King David—sorry, not King David—Asaph is speaking for the time of exile. It is different. So what is the Rebbe saying here?

15:39 That also explains why he quotes the entire verse here, including its continuation. So why does the Alter Rebbe bring this up in our discussion? What does it have to do with this chapter? Because it is the whole foundation of this chapter. What is the Alter Rebbe trying to explain to us in this chapter? “As water reflects a face to a face.” A Jew needs to contemplate the embrace and the kiss, the fundamental point that whenever I do a mitzvah, Hakadosh Boruch Hu connects with me and I connect with Him in a wondrous union, in the deepest way. This is true of the soul of a Jew who is in a lowly state, the most degraded of people, lying in the refuse. Nevertheless, I can connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu by doing mitzvos, and this arouses the higher revelation even if at times [unclear]. Regarding this we say that even [unclear], and certainly [unclear] bodily life. All the more so in the time of exile, when there is no revelation of the Beis Hamikdash. It is therefore even clearer to him that he does not see or feel; he has no feeling for G-dliness. Nevertheless, we say, “Yet I am always with You,” because bodily life does not prevent the soul from uniting with G-dliness. That is the central point of the Rebbe’s explanation. There are more details, but that is the point relevant to our discussion. Let’s continue inside the Tanya, on page 26b, the sixth line. Since we are speaking about this, before continuing I want to tell a story I heard from Rabbeinu [unclear]. Since we are speaking about what the Rebbe writes here, that there is prophecy and there is ruach hakodesh, and that prophecy and ruach hakodesh are two different things, this is a story I heard Rabbeinu, z"l, tell. I told it once on Sukkos. He told the story of a chossid of the Rebbe Maharash. It is a well-known story, but perhaps this detail of the story

17:41 is not so well known. I heard it from Rabbeinu, so I wanted to tell it. He said there was a chossid of the Rebbe Maharash who came to ask the Rebbe Maharash for a bracha concerning a business venture. The Rebbe Maharash told him not to do it. The chossid went home, but this was a tremendous business opportunity that could bring in a great deal of money, and he did not want to lose it. In the end he could not restrain himself and went into the venture. Well, of course, what the Rebbe Maharash said came to pass: he lost a lot of money and went into debt, and so on. In his distress, the chossid ran to the Rebbe Maharash. He knew he was at fault and had [unclear]. The chossid came to the Rebbe Maharash, told him the truth, and asked him for a bracha. The Rebbe Maharash told him there are four kinds of people. There are four categories of chassidim—or people who are not chassidim—four kinds of people who come to consult me about their affairs. Some chassidim say the Rebbe is a prophet. Why do they go to ask the Rebbe about things? They come with all sorts of questions: What should they do? What should they say? And how does the Rebbe know? They say the Rebbe is a prophet. If he is a prophet, then he can see the future. Others say the Rebbe is not a prophet, but at least he has ruach hakodesh. Through ruach hakodesh, too, he can see. I remember there was a debate about ruach hakodesh, about what is higher and what is lower. They discussed various terms, and a few fellows were arguing about it. At any rate, this is how Rabbi Mendel told the story. A prophet. After that he said ruach hakodesh: some say the Rebbe has ruach hakodesh, and that is why he knows what is happening. Then there are others who say, no,

19:23 It’s not prophecy, and it’s not ruach hakodesh. The Rebbe is simply a Jew who learns a great deal of Torah, and he has the power of Torah. So what he says comes to pass. He has that power in the merit of the Torah he learns. Then there’s a fourth level: people who say, no, it’s not prophecy or ruach hakodesh, and it’s not the power of Torah either. It’s simply that the Rebbe hears a lot from the people who come to him for yechidus and consult him. He knows and understands what’s happening in the world. He grasps things very well. He’s sharp and resourceful, so naturally you can rely on him. When he says something, you can trust that he understands what he’s saying, that he understands business. So the Rebbe Maharash told that chossid: However you choose to think about it—whether because of prophecy, ruach hakodesh, the power of Torah, or keen intelligence—by any of those four explanations, you should not have made this business deal. That’s the story our Rebbe told. And our Rebbe said that the story teaches us that a Rebbe has all these qualities. The Rebbe Maharash included them all. So the Rebbe is also a prophet, also has ruach hakodesh, also has the power of Torah, and also understands things with wisdom. He has all four kinds. Right, just by the way. So that point stayed in my mind: prophecy and ruach hakodesh are two levels, two different things. But in practice, after the whole subject of prophecy and ruach hakodesh has been explained, it’s clear that ruach hakodesh is a lower level than prophecy. Prophecy is a heavenly vision. Ruach hakodesh is something—a perception that is awakened—something more, more physical. Let’s go on a few more lines for now. In light of what we’ve just said, the Alter Rebbe says: “And with this we can understand the severity of the punishment for the prohibition of work on Shabbos and of chametz on Pesach, which applies equally to every soul.” According to what

21:13 we’ve learned here, we can now also understand why the punishment is so severe for someone who does work on Shabbos or eats chametz on Pesach. It’s so severe that the punishment for prohibited work is placed alongside that for chametz. It makes no difference whether it’s Moshe Rabbeinu or the lowliest person: whoever commits the transgression receives the same punishment. With stoning, it doesn’t matter who the person is—a great Torah scholar or a simple person—a Jew who commits one of those Torah prohibitions. These prohibitions carry very severe punishments: work on Shabbos is punishable by stoning, and chametz on Pesach by kares. The Alter Rebbe asks: How, seemingly, can the punishment be the same? After all, a tzaddik feels Yom Tov and its holiness far more than a simple person does. The simple person doesn’t feel it, so why give him the same punishment? What we’ve explained makes this understandable. For even in the soul of a completely unlearned and ignorant person, the light of the holiness of Shabbos and Yom Tov shines. That light shines within him with the same force as it shines within the greatest tzaddik. Therefore, says the Alter Rebbe, he is judged in his soul with kares or stoning for violating this holiness. So even if a person is completely unlearned, it makes no difference. As we said earlier, what matters is the soul’s union. For the simplest person, the soul’s union on Shabbos and Yom Tov is the same as it is for a great tzaddik. The only difference is that one feels it and the other doesn’t. From the perspective of Divine truth, there is no difference. So when it comes to obligation and punishment, the obligation and punishment are the same. Because what is the punishment about? It isn’t about what you feel or don’t feel. The punishment concerns the essence

23:05 of the matter. If a transgression severs your connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in a way that warrants stoning, then the punishment is stoning. If it warrants kares, then it is kares. If the transgression is an act of rebellion, then it is rebellion. So in the matter itself, as it stands in Divine truth, the same process applies from the lowliest person to a great tzaddik, and therefore the punishment is the same. And even a trace of chametz and moving muktzeh blemish the holiness of the soul. Here the Alter Rebbe also brings in rabbinic prohibitions. Until now, the examples were Torah prohibitions; now he goes on to a rabbinic prohibition. Even a trace of chametz and moving muktzeh blemish the holiness of the soul just as they blemish the soul of the greatest tzaddik. The same applies when we come to rabbinic prohibitions. They may not carry a punishment of stoning or kares, but they, too, blemish the soul. So the blemish to the soul from violating a rabbinic prohibition is illustrated by a trace of chametz. The Rebbe also brings a discussion in the revealed dimension of Torah about whether the prohibition of even a trace of chametz is from the Torah or rabbinic. Here we see that the Alter Rebbe groups it with muktzeh. That implies that the Alter Rebbe rules here—and this is how he rules in the Shulchan Aruch as well—that it is rabbinic. There is a dispute about whether a trace of chametz falls into the category of... the category of rabbinic prohibition. There’s a whole involved discussion, an entire lesson, about whether this is a Torah prohibition or a rabbinic one. The boys here have learned Pesachim and know all the discussions about the status of a trace of chametz, whether it is prohibited by the Torah or by the Sages. But on a straightforward reading, the Alter Rebbe here appears to follow the view that it is rabbinic. So the Alter Rebbe says that nevertheless, the blemish it causes in the soul—even with a rabbinic prohibition—is the same blemish it causes in the soul of a tzaddik as it causes in the soul of

24:46 a simple person. It blemishes his soul. There is one Torah for everyone. From the Torah’s perspective, there is no difference between one person and another; it is the same Torah, which forbids it to every Jew. The Rebbe explains that the point the Alter Rebbe is adding by including rabbinic prohibitions is that a rabbinic prohibition is a prohibition on the person. Everyone knows that, right? A rabbinic prohibition is a prohibition on the person. There is a distinction between a Torah prohibition and a rabbinic prohibition. The Rebbe has a whole involved discussion about this too, about how the Alter Rebbe rules in Tanya, chapter 8. But at any rate, in simple terms, the distinction commonly given is that a Torah prohibition applies to the object. In other words, the object itself is prohibited. A rabbinic prohibition, by contrast, applies to the person. The object itself is not prohibited; rather, the Sages decreed that the person must be careful about it. So I might have thought: Fine, a Torah prohibition applies to the object. That means it isn’t about the person; it’s about the object. Naturally, it makes no difference whether you’re a tzaddik or a wicked person: every Jew has the same obligation and therefore the same punishment. But with a rabbinic prohibition, which applies to the person, I might have thought that since the prohibition is on the person, perhaps the Sages, when they made the decree, also made distinctions. Right? When they decreed something for the person, they looked at the person. If you are a great person, a holy and distinguished person, perhaps you need to be more careful and the blemish would be greater. If you’re a simple person, perhaps they could be more lenient with you. But even here, even when it comes to a rabbinic prohibition, the blemish to the soul is the same. Because a rabbinic prohibition, too, is part of the providence of Hakadosh

26:27 Boruch Hu. It is the same thing. It is only that the body conceals it, but the body does not diminish the soul’s standing as it is in itself. The Rebbe adds an even finer point: regarding the two things the Alter Rebbe brought earlier—the prohibition of work on Shabbos and chametz on Pesach, which are Torah prohibitions—there is actually a whole discussion about whether they are Torah or rabbinic. Sorry, about whether the prohibition applies to the object or to the person. After all, the prohibitions of Shabbos and chametz are time-bound. Right? They are prohibitions tied to a particular time. The boys here who study the revealed dimension of Torah know there is a major question about a time-bound prohibition: does it apply to the object or to the person? Since it is tied only to that time, whereas before and after that time it isn’t prohibited. So is it a prohibition on the object? But it’s Shabbos; it’s Pesach. That’s also why he brings precisely these examples: to say that even in matters connected with the person rather than with the object in itself, a simple person and a holy person have the same obligation, the same punishment—the same thing. Right.