Lichyos Chassidus – Tanya – Rabbi Farkash · Episode 248 · 3 Kislev 5782 · 28:59
Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 25 - Part 3
Episode description
Likkutei Amarim Tanya - Chapter 25 - Part 3
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 We’re here in Tanya, in the middle of chapter 25. We’re on page 31b, at the line beginning “and rules,” or “does not rule,” at that point. The Alter Rebbe is speaking here about… As we discussed, chapter 25 is where the Alter Rebbe concludes the subject he began in chapter 18. In general, it begins in chapter 17; more specifically, in chapter 18. He explains the verse, “For this thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” The emphasis is that it is very close for every person to serve Hashem “in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” The Alter Rebbe explains that this means serving Hashem by turning away from evil and doing good in thought, speech, and action—and also “in your heart,” through love and awe. The Alter Rebbe asked: How can this be very close? We see plainly that it isn’t very close. So in chapter 18, the Alter Rebbe began to explain the matter. Everything from chapter 18 until here has been an introduction leading to this explanation. The point is that every Jew has a hidden love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is in every Jew’s nature: every Jew is prepared even to give up his life rather than be separated from the oneness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This includes love—the hidden love through which a Jew wants to be absorbed in the Ein Sof light—and it also includes awe: a Jew does not want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu and is prepared for actual mesirus nefesh, to give up his very life, rather than be separated. By awakening this love, a person can bring himself to turn away from evil and do good in actual practice. Because if I am prepared—this is the kal
02:24 vachomer the Alter Rebbe explains here—if I am prepared to give up my life rather than be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then all the more so can I refrain from doing something. That is nowhere near giving up my life; it is much easier. So I can certainly hold back and be careful not to become separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. After learning all the preceding chapters, from chapter 18 through chapter 24, we understand that every transgression separates you from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and every mitzvah unites you with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Through reflecting on this, a Jew can bring himself to turn away from evil and do good in practice. The Alter Rebbe first spoke about turning away from evil. That was the section we learned in the previous class: how a person can bring himself to avoid even a minor transgression of a rabbinic enactment. Once I understand that every transgression actually separates me from unity and oneness with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, just like actual idol worship, I won’t want to do it. The Alter Rebbe explained that although this separation lasts only while the transgression is being committed, a Jew does not want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu even for a moment. After all, a person could worship an idol for one moment and then do teshuvah, and nothing stands in the way of teshuvah. Nevertheless, a Jew would not be willing to worship an idol even for one moment. Why? The Alter Rebbe gives a reason here. Why isn’t a Jew willing to commit a transgression for just one moment and then do teshuvah and repair it? Because the reason a Jew does not want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not come from his own calculations. If it did, I would calculate: Okay,
04:17 you’ll be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu for one moment, and then you’ll repair it. What’s the problem? It’s only one moment. But a Jew’s unwillingness to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu is not based on reason. It comes from the light of Havayah that shines in his soul. That is why he is unwilling, as explained in the maamar Ve’atah Tetzaveh and here in Tanya, chapter 18. It comes from the light of Havayah shining in the soul, which is why a Jew neither wants nor is able to be separated. The light of Havayah is not bound by time. There is no difference between one moment and eternity. Every moment is eternal. From the perspective of the light of Havayah, which rules over time, it is eternal; so every moment of separation is eternal separation. And more than that: not only is it above time, it rules over time. The light of Havayah in the soul is above time and rules over time. So it is not only a question of being above time. Separation in the realm above time also causes separation in the realm of time, because that realm rules over time. Those are the two points the Alter Rebbe explained here, and that is why a Jew does not want to live separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu even for one moment. The same applies to every transgression, to every aspect of turning away from evil. Even if the separation concerns only one particular matter for one moment, a Jew does not want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu even for one moment. All this concerns turning away from evil. Now the Alter Rebbe comes to explain doing good. Before we continue, I want to tell a story connected to what we are learning here in Tanya. There is a story about a Jew. It may be fairly well known, but it relates to the Tanya we are learning here. There was a Jewish
06:04 young man who studied in Tomchei Temimim in America in its early years there, during the time of the Frierdiker Rebbe. He was a bright young man, a scholar. But at a certain point in his life, he had a very strong desire to study secular subjects. He wanted to become some kind of… well, he wanted to study secular subjects, to go to university and further his education. He was very sharp, very intelligent, and he wanted to study. The Rebbe wrote to him, of course, that he should not do it, but he very much wanted to. So the Rebbe wrote him a letter. The Rebbe explained that he could not do this because it was a place unsuitable for students of Tomchei Temimim. Since he studied in Tomchei Temimim, he was together with the Rebbe; wherever he went, the Rebbe went with him. So he could not go to a place contrary to the intent and the will, a place the Rebbe did not want him to go. The Rebbe wrote him a letter about this—a well-known letter that has been published. The Rebbe writes to him: You might think, right? The Rebbe writes in the letter: If you do this, that’s one thing—if you don’t mind taking yourself to a place that isn’t good. But you are taking the Rebbe with you. Since you are a student of Tomchei Temimim, when you go to a place that is not good, a place contrary to the will and the intent, you take the Rebbe there with you. In the well-known expression, you take the head of a king and bring it into a privy full of filth. You take the king with you. Since you are a student of Tomchei Temimim, when you go to a place contrary to the will and the intent, the Rebbe goes with you. So the Rebbe writes to him in the letter: You might think, why
08:02 would I take the Rebbe with me when I go to university? At that time, I simply won’t be the Rebbe’s student. I don’t want to take the Rebbe with me. During those hours, those times when I am at the university, I’ll separate myself, disconnect, go off on my own, and I won’t take the Rebbe with me. So the Rebbe writes to him in the letter: In your own mind, you may think that way, but know that the Rebbe will not, will not, will not leave you. The moment you entered Tomchei Temimim, you became connected. You became one with the Rebbe, and since then the Rebbe has been with you in whatever state or spiritual standing you may be. When you are in the mud and the filth, know that the Rebbe is there with you too. “I am with him in distress,” as we say; the Rebbe is there with you. So if you don’t care about yourself, that’s one thing, but know that you are taking the Rebbe with you. And a Jew does not want to do such a thing under any circumstances. So… so that is the point. It is the same point he makes here in Tanya. A Jew does not want, under any circumstances, to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu even for one moment. That is what the Rebbe is saying here: with this reflection, you might say, “If it’s just one moment, what will happen? A moment later I’ll do teshuvah and repair it.” But a Jew has it firmly within him that he cannot be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu even for one moment. In any case, that concerns turning away from evil. Now the Alter Rebbe comes to explain how this also finds expression in
10:00 In doing good, too, one comes to do good through contemplation: contemplating the fact that a Jew has the power of mesirus nefesh, and that a Jew has love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu—a love so great that it extends to mesirus nefesh. That also gives a person the strength for the love involved in doing good. Here we need to explain something so that we can understand what the Alter Rebbe is about to say in Tanya. This is an introduction to the passage we’re going to study. Usually, we understand “turn away from evil” to mean avoiding transgressions, and “do good” to mean performing mitzvos. “Turn away from evil” refers to the 365 prohibitions, and “do good” to the 248 positive mitzvos. That’s how we’re generally used to learning it. So when it says that fear is the root of turning away from evil, we take it to mean that through fear I’m careful not to commit transgressions. And love is the root of doing good: because I love Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I perform mitzvos. But we know from Chassidus that this is not what it means. And here in Tanya, too, we’ll see that this is not what it means. “Turn away from evil” isn’t only about not committing transgressions. It includes all 613 mitzvos; all of that is called “turn away from evil.” Based on what we learned earlier, what does “turn away from evil” mean? That a person doesn’t want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That’s what it means. What does the Alter Rebbe say here about turning away from evil? It applies even to a minor transgression of a rabbinic ordinance. So what difference does it make whether it’s a positive mitzvah or a prohibition? A positive mitzvah, too: if, for example, G-d forbid, you don’t put on tefillin, you are separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That, too, is a transgression—and not just any transgression, but a very serious one. So it
11:52 is included under “turn away from evil.” When we say that a Jew does not want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, even to the point of mesirus nefesh, that avodah is connected with the power of fear. A person is afraid of being separated from G-dliness, so he observes all 613 mitzvos, both positive mitzvos and prohibitions. So what is “do good”? Here we see that in Tanya, “turn away from evil” and “do good” have a different meaning. “Turn away from evil” means observing all 613 mitzvos according to halachah. That is called “turn away from evil”: keeping the Shulchan Aruch, observing everything, every halachah in the Shulchan Aruch and the Rema, both positive mitzvos and prohibitions. But why do I observe them? Because I don’t want to be separated. That is “turn away from evil.” Because if I don’t do what the Shulchan Aruch says—whether it’s a positive mitzvah or a prohibition—that is evil. I’m doing something wrong; I’m committing idolatry; I’m separating myself from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So because I don’t want to be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I observe all 613 mitzvos. But what motivates my observance of the 613 mitzvos? “Turn away from evil”—the fact that I don’t want to be separated. What does “do good” mean? “Do good” isn’t merely to observe the mitzvos. It means observing them in a more beautiful way, going beyond the letter of the law, with effort. That’s something else. The emphasis in “do good” is that a person seeks to do good. He isn’t only trying not to be separated; he seeks to do good, to bring good into the world, to add a higher light to the world, to bring holiness into the world. So once I have love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I
13:40 don’t just do what is obligatory or necessary. Once I have love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I’ll observe all 613 mitzvos in a way that goes beyond every measure and limitation. I’ll do them much better. That’s the true meaning of “do good,” because that requires love as well. And regarding this, the Alter Rebbe now says, later in the chapter, that by contemplating the fact that I have a soul, and that by virtue of my soul I have love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu—a love so great that a Jew wants to be absorbed in the Ein Sof, beyond reason and understanding, which is the whole point of this natural love: the desire to be absorbed in the Ein Sof, as in “The soul of man is Hashem’s lamp,” a love beyond reason and understanding—then, because of this, “do good” won’t mean merely doing what I have to do. I’ll serve Hashem far beyond what I’m obligated to do, in a more beautiful way, with effort and beyond the letter of the law. This is what the Alter Rebbe goes on to say now. Now we can understand the next lines of the chapter. Let’s look inside the Tanya. The Alter Rebbe says: “And as for the aspect of ‘do good,’ he must overcome like a lion, with strength and courage of heart.” What is the avodah involved in “do good”? A person must “overcome like a lion, with strength and courage of heart, against the yetzer that weighs down his body and casts laziness upon him, from the element of earth in a person’s soul.” So what is the avodah of “do good”? Here we see that “do good” doesn’t just mean performing mitzvos. What does it involve? Overcoming like a lion—the avodah of exerting oneself. To serve Hashem by overcoming oneself; overcoming like a lion takes strength. To serve Hashem with determination and courage of heart “against the yetzer that weighs down his body and casts laziness upon him”
15:35 “from the element of earth in a person’s soul, and to exert his body energetically in every kind of toil and demanding labor in the service of Hashem, which involves toil and effort.” There is the yetzer hara, and it has negative traits. We said that there are four elements. We learned in chapter 1 of Tanya that the yetzer hara has four elements, but the main one we’re discussing here is the element of earth. Earth is the fourth element, and it is really the essence of the animal soul. Notice the wording the Alter Rebbe emphasizes here: “the yetzer that weighs down his body and casts laziness upon him.” The yetzer hara has four elements. There is fire, which produces arrogance and anger; air, which produces idle chatter and mockery; and water, which produces indulgence in pleasures. But here we’re talking about earth. The element of earth is the animal soul itself. It isn’t a particular trait; it’s the heaviness. Earth is the lowest thing, with no vitality of its own. Earth is stillness; earth is lifeless. That is the opposite of holiness. So this is a central point in the animal soul. The G-dly soul is holiness, and holiness is life. Holiness is life. The animal soul, by contrast, is kelipah. The essential difference between holiness and kelipah is that holiness is life and kelipah is death. And where, in a person’s traits, is this difference between life and death expressed? In alacrity versus laziness—the element of earth. A living person moves. Every living thing moves. A living person is in motion: he moves, walks, advances, runs. That’s what you see in a living person. A person who has died has no movement. That’s the test when you want to check. The Gemara says
17:51 how do you check whether a person is alive? What do you look for? You look for movement. If you see movement, you check in various places—at the nose, at the nostrils. The Gemara there talks about checking for movement. When there is movement, there is life. When there is no movement, there is no life. And that’s the point the Alter Rebbe is making here. The essence of the animal soul, the element of earth, is the opposite of life. How is that lack of life expressed? In laziness, in heaviness. A person lies in bed, he sleeps, he has no strength to get up, no strength to move, no strength for anything. That is the opposite of movement, the opposite of life. Holiness, by contrast—“And you who cling to Hashem your G-d are all alive today.” Holiness expresses itself in energetic movement. That is why the well-known teaching of Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair at the end of Tractate Sotah says, “Alacrity leads to holiness; holiness leads to purity; purity leads to piety; piety...” There is a whole list there, all the way to the resurrection of the dead. What does it all begin with? Alacrity. Because alacrity is the movement of life within the soul. So what does the yetzer, the opposite of holiness, produce? Laziness—the opposite of movement. And that laziness is the element of earth. Because of it, a person has no strength to fight. That is what the battles, the mesirus nefesh, must be directed against. We’re talking here about an impulse of mesirus nefesh, because that is the whole point the Alter Rebbe is trying to explain to us explicitly: I need to take the power of mesirus nefesh that I have in my soul, the fiery power within the soul, and use that impulse to fight what? To fight the animal soul’s trait of laziness. That is what the Alter Rebbe says here in Tanya: “in every kind of toil in the service of Hashem.”
19:51 In serving the Creator, there are things that demand effort and toil from us—work and exertion. And here one must wage war against the sitra achra: not merely to learn, but to learn with effort and exertion. Not merely to daven; in every aspect of serving Hashem, it should be done with effort and exertion. For example, to toil—so here the Alter Rebbe gives examples from all the different areas of serving Hashem. He says, “For example, to toil in Torah study, in deep analysis and verbally, so that his mouth does not cease from reciting it.” The first example the Alter Rebbe gives of work and exertion is Torah study. Torah study is, of course, central to serving Hashem. In the realm of “do good,” a person can study Torah to fulfill an obligation, or study it in a way that truly fulfills “do good”—Torah study that comes through a tremendous struggle. What is genuine Torah study? The Alter Rebbe says: to toil in Torah study, in deep analysis and verbally, so that his mouth does not cease from reciting it. There are two points here: to toil in Torah study through deep analysis, and to study verbally. “So that his mouth does not cease from reciting it” explains what “verbally” means. If we want our Torah study to be as it should, it must involve deep analysis. A person can fulfill his obligation without studying in depth; he can just read through the material. But we are told: Yes, studying that way is very good, but if you are capable of studying in depth and you only read through it, something is lacking in the completeness of your Torah study. The Rebbe explains in a sicha for Shavuos that, on a more subtle level, just as there is neglect of Torah study when a person has time to learn and does not
22:09 learn, there is also “neglect of Torah study within the soul.” What does that mean? If you have the ability to study more deeply but learn only superficially, broadly, just reading through the material, that too is considered neglect of Torah study. Why? Because your soul has the capacity to exert itself more, to delve more deeply, and you did not do so. A part of your soul was therefore left out of the learning. It is like time: if you have time to learn and do not use it, that is neglect of Torah study, because that time is lost. It is a loss that cannot be recovered. The same applies to the faculties of the soul. If you could have invested certain faculties and did not, their potential has been lost. That is neglect of Torah study within the soul. This is how the Rebbe explains it in the sicha. So when the Alter Rebbe speaks here about studying in depth, he does not mean it as a minor point. To fulfill the basic requirement and avoid doing wrong, a person can also learn by simply reading through the material. He is not committing a transgression. If you learn that way, you are fine; you have fulfilled the mitzvah of Torah study. But “do good” demands more: learning in depth, exerting yourself, using your mind to study as deeply as you can. That is deep analysis. Then he mentions another point: “verbally.” In Hilchos Talmud Torah, the Alter Rebbe writes that there is a mitzvah to study Torah aloud: “And you shall speak of them.” The learning specifically needs to be verbal; learning in thought is not enough. The Alter Rebbe writes in the Shulchan Aruch that, according to halachah, a person studying Torah must make the words audible to his own ears and articulate them. Torah study
24:03 must specifically be done verbally. That is the mitzvah of Torah study. If you study Torah only in thought, something is lacking in your fulfillment of the mitzvah. You have fulfilled [unclear]; there are several aspects of this in halachah. The mitzvah of Torah study is specifically verbal. This is especially so according to the inner dimension of Torah: the Alter Rebbe explains that the purpose of every Torah study and mitzvah is to make a dwelling place for Hashem in the lower realms, which involves refining the body. The Alter Rebbe will explain this later, in chapter 37. That is another reason Torah study must be verbal: so that the body, too, will be prepared to become a dwelling place for the blessed Ein Sof. If you study Torah only in thought, this is missing. That is why we say Torah study should be both in depth and verbal. This has a practical application in halachah: if saying the words aloud would prevent you from delving deeply into the subject, it is permitted to think them through. When a person is in the middle of analyzing a point, he cannot think if he has to keep speaking. So if you are examining a halachic topic and need to think, you may of course do so, so that speaking does not come at the expense of your analysis. But when you are simply learning a topic or studying something, you need to make an effort—there is an obligation—to say the words aloud. Both of these things, studying in depth and studying aloud, require exertion. That is “do good.” It is not easy. It is much easier to sit with a book and read. People like reading books. Reading silently with your eyes is easier still. But saying the words aloud—that can be irritating, difficult, tiring. You feel you do not have the strength. So both of these, deep analysis and speaking aloud, are demanding work. They require effort and overcoming resistance in order to serve Hashem through Torah study, specifically in depth
26:02 and aloud. “As our Sages said: A person should always apply himself to the words of Torah like an ox under the yoke and a donkey carrying a load.” This is what our Sages say: a person studying Torah must do so like an ox under the yoke and a donkey carrying a load. What does that mean? It means there must be exertion. The ox exerts itself as it walks with the yoke, and the donkey exerts itself carrying its load. So our Torah study, too, must be like an ox under the yoke and a donkey carrying a load. There is an interesting explanation in the commentaries of why both are mentioned. “Like an ox under the yoke” relates to deep analysis, while “a donkey carrying a load” relates to speaking aloud. What does the ox do as it walks with the yoke? It works the entire field. There are holes, rises in the ground, stones; the ox goes through the field, digging and plowing, bringing its various parts into order. That is the work of deep analysis. You study a topic, and there are questions and difficulties, and you plow through the topic. So the ox under the yoke is more closely connected with deep analysis. A donkey carrying a load is something more external. It carries bundles on its back; it bears a burden. That is like the burden of speaking—saying the words even when you do not feel you have the strength. I would rather just read, but I say them aloud anyway. That is more closely connected with the donkey carrying a load. This is how the two ideas connect here. “And likewise, davening with concentration, with literally all his strength.”
28:10 Davening, too: not just the work of davening in general, but doing it with concentration and with all one’s strength. As we know, there are different ways of engaging in the work of davening. Here we are speaking of davening with concentration, with literally all one’s strength—investing all one’s faculties in it. And likewise when serving Hashem involves money: in giving tzedakah, too, the effort must go beyond one’s usual practice. In any case, the point the Alter Rebbe is explaining is that both in “turn away from evil” and in “do good,” a person must invest his strength and overcome resistance. That comes specifically through contemplating the hidden love. It gives you the strength, because “the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it”—to do it specifically by overcoming resistance.