Likkutei Amarim, Chapter 29 - Part 1

00:00 We’re continuing with chapter 29 of Tanya. In these chapters, beginning with chapter 26, the Alter Rebbe began speaking about joy: to overcome the yetzer hara, a person needs an energy that comes from joy, an open heart, and a heart free of every trace of worry and sadness. In chapter 26, the Alter Rebbe said that a person cannot overcome the yetzer hara if he is sluggish and weighed down. Someone in that state cannot overcome it—just as, physically, when two people wrestle, the one who is sluggish and weighed down will very easily fall. The Alter Rebbe says there that sluggishness and heaviness come from sadness and a heart that is unresponsive as a stone. In other words, the root of a person’s sluggishness and heaviness is his inner state: he is sad, and his heart is unresponsive as a stone. The Alter Rebbe then began examining various ways to remove sadness. What can a person do to keep from being sad? Sadness comes from worries. Over three chapters—26, 27, and 28—the Alter Rebbe offered various ways for a person to overcome sadness. Here, in chapter 29, he begins discussing the second point. More specifically, the Alter Rebbe mentions two things: sluggishness and heaviness. They are similar, but they are not the same. There is a state of sluggishness and a state of heaviness. The difference depends on where each one comes from. Sluggishness is a result of sadness. When a person is sad, worried, and in a bad mood, that makes him sluggish. He becomes passive. It comes from sadness. He is sad and doesn’t

02:28 feel good about himself. He has various negative feelings because of transgressions he committed, or because of material concerns, or for the other reasons we learned about in these three chapters. So sadness causes sluggishness. Heaviness comes from a heart that is unresponsive. It is something a little more than sluggishness. With heaviness, a person feels like a lump, like a stone. He can’t move. This heaviness comes from the state of having a heart that is unresponsive as a stone. That is the Alter Rebbe’s wording in chapter 26, as we learned: “sluggishness and heaviness that come from sadness and a heart that is unresponsive as a stone.” Now, in chapter 29, the Alter Rebbe begins to explain the remedy: how a person overcomes this heaviness that comes from a heart that is unresponsive as a stone. That is what chapter 29 is about. The Alter Rebbe explains what this unresponsiveness of the heart is and where it comes from, and then he will offer ways to overcome it and, as a result, overcome the heaviness. That is the subject of chapter 29. Chapter 29 is known as a powerful, sharp chapter. Chapters 29 and 30 are two chapters in Tanya where the Alter Rebbe discusses matters connected with teshuvah and taking stock of oneself, as we will see. He offers ways to fight this heaviness, this unresponsiveness of the heart. When you first study these chapters on the surface, they can look like chapters of mussar, as though the Alter Rebbe is giving a person a beating, speaking forcefully and going into various details of awe of Hashem. But when you study them more deeply and look at their inner meaning, you see the opposite: the greatness and innovation of Chassidus. Even when it speaks about serving Hashem through bitterness, the foundation there, too, is to awaken and reveal the G-dly soul. We’ll see this now as we study the chapter inside.

04:44 Let’s read a little inside. The Alter Rebbe says: “There is yet another matter for which it is necessary to seek remedies for the souls of beinonim.” There is another matter for which beinonim need to seek remedies. As we said, in these chapters the Alter Rebbe offers remedies for various problems that arise in serving Hashem. Up to chapter 26, we learned about the way a person should serve Hashem, how anyone can be a beinoni, and how to reach that state. Beginning in chapter 26, the Alter Rebbe started discussing problems that prevent a person from accomplishing this. In other words, there are obstacles that need to be removed, and he gives various remedies. Now the Alter Rebbe adds another matter for which a beinoni needs a remedy. What is it? “Sometimes, at frequent intervals, his heart becomes unresponsive.” The Alter Rebbe uses both expressions: “sometimes” and “at frequent intervals.” He is speaking about different kinds of beinonim. For some it happens occasionally, while for others it happens frequently. What happens? “His heart becomes unresponsive, like a stone, and he cannot open his heart in any way to the service of the heart, which is prayer. And sometimes, because of the heaviness in his heart, he is also unable to fight the yetzer hara and sanctify himself in matters that are permitted to him.” So what is the Alter Rebbe discussing here? A problem we know, one explained in many places in Chassidus: the problem called unresponsiveness of the heart. What is this problem? We know that Chassidus explains that, by human nature, when a person studies a subject, understands it, works through its explanation, and grasps it,

06:52 the natural course is what we learned earlier in Tanya, in chapter 17: “The mind rules over the heart by its very nature from birth.” It also came up before that, in chapter 12. For an ordinary person, the normal order is that he reflects on something, and that understanding awakens his heart. This is completely natural. That’s human nature. Just as, if I touch fire, I get burned. That’s natural. If you touch something hot, it hurts and burns you, because that’s its nature. If a person walks outside in the cold without a coat, he gets cold. It’s natural. Similarly, it is human nature that when a person reflects on a G-dly subject, the result should be love and awe. That is how it should naturally work. It is a natural process, the natural outcome. In the language of Chassidus, it is called happening “on its own.” When a person reflects on a G-dly subject, then, as a matter of course—and we all know this—look at what the Baal Shem Tov and the Alter Rebbe say about the verse “You shall love Hashem”: the command is not about the love itself; the command is to reflect. Once you reflect, love will follow as a matter of course. That is the natural order. The Rambam says this too, when he asks, “What is the path to love and fear Him?” It is “when a person contemplates His deeds and creations,” and so on. So, naturally, as a matter of course, reflection leads to love and awe. Now, what happens when a person reflects but isn’t stirred? He studies Chassidus, reflects on Hashem’s greatness, reflects on G-dliness, and it does not awaken him. It doesn’t kindle any fire of love, awe, or feeling within him. So that, that is

08:42 In the language of Chassidus, this is called an illness. What is the illness? It is called timtum halev, a blockage of the heart. In other words, the heart is not in its natural state. By nature, the heart responds emotionally to what the mind tells it. If it does not, that means something is wrong—there is a short circuit, some problem preventing what is in the mind from reaching the heart. That illness is called timtum halev: the heart becomes like a stone, and no feeling for matters of G-dliness enters it. Now, ordinarily, we would say that a person like that could hardly be called a beinoni. And that is the great novelty of what the Alter Rebbe says here in chapter 29: this can sometimes happen even to beinonim. After all, we are talking about a beinoni. The Alter Rebbe begins, “But there is one more thing: advice must be offered for the souls of beinonim.” This is a person whose thought, speech, and action are one hundred percent as they should be. He keeps the Shulchan Aruch; he turns away from evil and does good. Nevertheless, when it comes to his heart, he experiences timtum halev. That is what the Alter Rebbe emphasizes here. How does timtum halev show itself? When we speak about timtum halev among ordinary people, people on our level, we are very far from the level of a beinoni. So for us, timtum halev shows itself in actual conduct—in thought, speech, and action, in matters of prohibition, in basic things. But here the Alter Rebbe is speaking about a beinoni. His thought, speech, and action are as they should be. So the Alter Rebbe specifies where timtum halev shows itself for him: in the avodah of davening and in matters of holiness. Since he is a beinoni,

10:33 thought, speech, and action do not depend so much on feeling in the heart. When it comes to actual conduct, as the Alter Rebbe said in chapter 14, he can overcome himself even when his heart burns with desire. Why? Because in his heart, he does not want to be a rasha even for a single moment. So even when his heart is not engaged, he can still control his thought, speech, and action in practice, whether through kabbolas ol or because he does not want to be separated from Hashem—he does not want to be a rasha. But the avodah of davening is different. Davening is avodah of the heart; you need some feeling in your heart. And so, as the Alter Rebbe says, even a beinoni sometimes, or often, tries to daven. He begins the avodah of davening and contemplates G-dliness, but his heart does not respond. It does not awaken; there is no surge of feeling. That happens because of timtum halev. It weighs him down, and he cannot open his heart to the service of Hashem in davening. The same applies to sanctifying oneself in what is permitted. This, too, applies to a beinoni. Some aspects of sanctifying oneself in what is permitted are a Torah obligation, as we learned in chapter 27. But there are different aspects of it, and they are not always a Torah obligation. If we are speaking about a beinoni, then when it comes to refraining from unnecessary indulgences and desires—things for which there is no need at all—that is plainly an actual Torah obligation. So if we are speaking about a beinoni, it would seem we cannot say that he fails in this. Rather, the Alter Rebbe means things that are not

12:29 a Torah obligation: sanctifying oneself in what is permitted even with things one needs. If you remember chapter 27, we learned there about one kind of iskafya: restraining oneself from things that are purely a matter of desire and serve no need at all—being “a degenerate with the Torah’s permission,” as the Ramban says in Parshas Kedoshim. But one must also practice iskafya with necessary things, even though one needs them. In that case, iskafya means that instead of eating now, he eats an hour later. Or, as the Rebbe gave the example, he needs to discuss something, but he will not discuss it now; he will discuss it later—even though it is something he does need to discuss. These are permitted, necessary things, but he can hold himself back. That restraint, that iskafya, is called sanctifying oneself in what is permitted. It is not obligatory: if you do not do it, you do not become a rasha. Nevertheless, it is part of serving Hashem. As we learned in the previous chapters, iskafya is expected of a beinoni in his service of Hashem—each and every act of self-restraint. The Alter Rebbe said in chapter 27 that iskafya gives Hakadosh Boruch Hu great pleasure, and so on. So sometimes, because a beinoni has timtum halev and feels weighed down, he cannot overcome himself in these matters of sanctifying himself in what is permitted. It is very hard for him to bring himself to do it, to fight his yetzer over things that are permitted. That is the beinoni the Alter Rebbe is speaking about here. A beinoni, too, sometimes experiences timtum halev. For him, it shows itself in these matters: he cannot succeed in the avodah of davening or in sanctifying himself in what is permitted. But of course,

14:18 this also includes people who are not beinonim. They, too, have timtum halev, though in their case it shows itself in things that are, of course, much more serious. The advice the Alter Rebbe gives here in chapter 29 applies to that as well. It certainly helps with every kind of timtum halev. If I remember correctly, Reb Mendel Futerfas once held a farbrengen about chapter 29. Reb Mendel said there are bochurim who like to learn chapter 29 because they want to do teshuvah. So they turn to chapter 29 to awaken themselves to teshuvah. It is a chapter in which the Alter Rebbe speaks about teshuvah, sins, and transgressions, so they look to learn chapter 29. Just a little thought from Reb Mendel’s farbrengen—it is interesting. He said: Who is chapter 29 about? It is about a person who has already learned twenty-eight chapters of Tanya and worked on what they say. He did not just study them for intellectual knowledge. He learns each chapter, lives with it, applies it, and, as we said, puts it into practice. He has already reached great heights in his speech and action. He has also rid himself of sins and [unclear]. He has no [unclear] out in the street. He has overcome sins, overcome worldly preoccupations; they no longer matter to him. He has even overcome the distracting thoughts that come to him during davening and while studying Torah. And after all that, he comes to daven, and it does not work. That is chapter 29. That is the person the Alter Rebbe is speaking about there—a beinoni like that. After all that work, he comes to daven, and his heart does not ignite in the avodah of

16:12 Prayer. This is because he cannot overcome his desires—what does that mean? That was also a vort he said at a farbrengen. But again, as we say, Tanya is a book that belongs to every single person. So whatever the Rebbe teaches, the Rebbe expects each person, of course, to find himself in it at his own level. In any case, the Alter Rebbe continues: “And this is the advice given in the holy Zohar.” The Alter Rebbe says: Here is the advice written in the Zohar, given by the Rav Mesivta in Gan Eden. The Zohar tells us that there is a Rav Mesivta in Gan Eden. Rav Mesivta is the Aramaic for “head of a yeshiva.” So there is a head of a yeshiva in Gan Eden; there is a heavenly yeshiva, and it has a head, the Rav Mesivta. The Rav Mesivta in Gan Eden said the words the Alter Rebbe quotes here: “Wood that the fire does not catch must be struck.” A piece of wood that the fire does not catch has to be broken into pieces, and so on. In simple, physical terms, that is how it works. We know that sometimes you want to light a fire, and you have a very large piece of wood. You try to light it, but it will not catch. Break it into small pieces, and then it catches. He says: “A body in which the light of the soul does not catch must be struck,” and so on. The same applies to the body. When the light of the soul cannot penetrate the body, that is timtum halev, a dullness of the heart. In other words, the body, its coarseness and materiality, is like a thick piece of wood that will not catch fire. The light of the soul does not penetrate the body. So what is the advice? The advice is to break the body into pieces. Now, as he will say shortly, G-d forbid, this does not mean literally breaking the body through self-mortification and fasting. That is contrary to Chassidus, contrary to

18:13 the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, and so on. So the Rav Mesivta certainly did not mean literally breaking the body and harming its health. On the contrary, we have to take care of the body’s health. Rather, he meant breaking its material coarseness, as the Alter Rebbe now explains. What does “the light of the soul” mean? It means that the light of the soul and the mind does not shine so strongly because of the body’s material coarseness. The light of the soul and the mind does not penetrate, as we said. Naturally, the light of the soul and the mind should affect the heart. But here, because of the body’s material coarseness, it cannot do so; it does not shine strongly enough to rule over the body’s materiality. “Even though he understands and contemplates Hashem’s greatness in his mind, it does not take hold and become so firmly fixed in his mind that he can rule over the materiality of his heart, because of its materiality and coarseness.” He cannot kindle the fire, cannot kindle the heart, because of that materiality and coarseness. And the reason is “the coarseness of the kelipah, which raises itself above the light of the holiness of the G-dly soul, concealing and darkening its light.” That is why this happens: the coarseness of the kelipah does not allow the light of the G-dly soul to shine. So a person needs to break down that material coarseness. The Alter Rebbe is now going to give advice on how to break down the body’s material coarseness so that the light of the soul can shine. Now, there are several details we need to understand here. When you learn this passage, a number of questions arise. We cannot explain everything at once. But in any case, the first point is a simple question that comes up when reading the Tanya here: What is the question? The Rav Mesivta appears. There was a Rav Mesivta in heaven. What does he say there in Gan Eden? What revelations does he give? What has he taught us that is new? The Rav Mesivta in Gan Eden says—what did he tell us? That just as wood that will not catch fire has to be broken up, so too, “a body in which the light of the soul does not catch must be struck.” For that, we have to

20:13 go to Gan Eden and hear this secret? The Zohar there tells how Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was—he was down there. It is a well-known story the Zohar tells. This was when Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was—who was it? Rabbi Chiya? Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai? I do not remember who was in that story. I do not remember the details; perhaps I am mixing them up. But the Zohar tells that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai heard these words from the Rav Mesivta in Gan Eden, and he was so moved—it says in the Zohar that he was so moved that he began to cry. He said, “All my life I have sought to hear these words, and now that I have heard them”—he was beside himself. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was beside himself at hearing this. Not that I have learned this Zohar—do not suspect me of that. The whole account is quoted elsewhere. I asked this question too: What did he hear here? Revelations? What moved him so much? There is an explanation here in Tanya, and this is what I told you at the beginning of the chapter: it is one of the places where we see what is distinctive about the teachings of the inner dimension of Torah. This is a foundation of the Zohar, of the inner dimension of Torah, even when it speaks about moral guidance and about the need to break down material coarseness. Here we see the point that moved Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai so much. What did the Rav Mesivta in heaven reveal? That a Jew’s soul-light is always present in its entirety. A person might think: Why, why is this not working? Perhaps there is a problem with his soul? Maybe his soul is damaged; maybe he does not have it, does not have it. In other words, who says the problem lies in the materiality of the body? Perhaps the problem lies somewhere else. What the Rav

22:12 Mesivta in heaven said was that the fire is there, complete. So what is the issue? It is something external. And that is what the Alter Rebbe goes on to say: “And the reason is the coarseness of the kelipah, which raises itself.” In other words, there is a truth here, and that truth is that the essential truth shines within every Jew. It is there within you. External things prevent it from being revealed, and that is where the work is needed. You have to break down the material coarseness, the external things, in order to reveal what is within. That is one point, and it is the foundation we learn here in explaining the plain meaning of the Tanya. But there is another dimension that adds even more depth. There is a short maamar of the Rebbe that explains this, at the end of Sefer Hamaamarim 5737. It is a wonderful maamar. Yes, anyone who has time should read it, or even study it. It is a short maamar. But on this same passage of the Zohar there is also a lengthy discussion by the Frierdiker Rebbe in Likkutei Dibburim. There is an entire sicha in Likkutei Dibburim by the Frierdiker Rebbe explaining this passage. There he adds a deeper point and teaches something even more striking: What had such a great impact on Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was that the body, too, is a vessel for G-dliness—not only the soul. What is the analogy for the body here? Take a simple example. If you take iron—I do not know, not iron, plastic, I do not know. Take some object that is not wood. Try to light it. Take a stone. A stone. Try to start a fire with a stone. It will not work. What will you do—break it into pieces? Will that help? It will not help. Take the stone and cut it into small pieces. It still will not catch fire. Why? Because a stone does not have the capacity—it cannot catch fire. It will not help to cut it into small pieces. It has no connection to fire. Wood, by its nature, is a vessel for fire. Fire can take hold in it. So what is the problem? Because the wood is thick, the fire does not take hold. Break it into pieces, and it catches fire, because wood is inherently a vessel. That is what Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai heard from the Rav Mesivta, and it applies to a Jew’s body. Not only a Jew’s soul, but a Jew’s body, too, is a vessel for G-dliness. That is the analogy of the wood. Wood is a vessel for fire; it is only because it is thick that the fire does not take hold, but by its nature it can. You need to break it up. Similarly, a Jew’s body, too, is a vessel for G-dliness. If that is not apparent, it is because the body is coarse. So we need to break down its material coarseness, and then we see that not only from the perspective of the soul, but from the perspective of the body as well, it is a vessel for G-dliness. That is what is explained in the maamar.

24:02 Wood, by its nature, is a vessel for fire. Fire can take hold in it. So what is the problem? Because the wood is thick, the fire does not take hold. Break it into pieces, and it catches fire, because wood is inherently a vessel. That is what Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai heard from the Rav Mesivta, and it applies to a Jew’s body. Not only a Jew’s soul, but a Jew’s body, too, is a vessel for G-dliness. That is the analogy of the wood. Wood is a vessel for fire; it is only because it is thick that the fire does not take hold, but by its nature it can. You need to break it up. Similarly, a Jew’s body, too, is a vessel for G-dliness. If that is not apparent, it is because the body is coarse. So we need to break down its material coarseness, and then we see that not only from the perspective of the soul, but from the perspective of the body as well, it is a vessel for G-dliness. That is what is explained in the maamar.