Likkutei Amarim, Chapter 29 - Part 2

00:01 Yes, we’re in the middle of explaining the Zohar that the Alter Rebbe brings at the beginning of chapter 29. We’re talking about a beinoni who has a dullness of heart, which shows itself in his inability to open his heart to the service of Hashem in prayer. We explained in the previous class that, for a beinoni, dullness of heart is expressed mainly in these areas. When he comes to pray and tries to awaken love and awe, he finds it difficult. The same applies to sanctifying himself in what is permitted to him, as we discussed in the previous class. The advice the Zohar gives is: “A body in which the light of the soul does not rise—one strikes it, and the light rises.” When the light of the soul, the light of the G-dly soul, the light of love and awe, does not enter—when the G-dly light does not shine—it is because of the body’s materiality. So that materiality must be broken: “one strikes it.” In a moment the Alter Rebbe will explain how to do that. Heaven forbid, it does not mean breaking the body. It means breaking the sense of self that comes from the body, the animal soul, the sitra achra. As the Alter Rebbe will soon explain, this involves personal effort that must take place now. But there’s one thing here that we haven’t explained yet. Two points before we continue. The Alter Rebbe uses the expression “the light of the soul.” He explains its meaning: “the light of the soul and the intellect does not shine strongly enough to rule over the body’s materiality.” The Alter Rebbe’s wording is interesting. What does “the light of the soul” mean? He renders it “the light of the soul and the intellect.” What does that mean? The light of the soul means the light of the G-dly soul. The G-dly soul is literally a part of G-d above. By its very nature, it is drawn to G-dliness. As the Rebbe says in today’s Hayom Yom, the G-dly soul is naturally drawn to G-dliness: a Jew is drawn to G-dliness and does not want to be

02:15 separated from G-dliness, and so on. So that is “the light of the soul.” What, then, does “the light of the soul and the intellect” mean? Based on what we’ve learned so far in Tanya, including in the earlier chapters—chapter 17, and even before that, chapters 12 and 13—the explanation is clear. The G-dly soul acts upon the body through the intellect. That’s how it works. As the Alter Rebbe said at the beginning of Tanya, the difference between the G-dly soul and the animal soul is that the G-dly soul is enclothed in the intellect, while the animal soul is enclothed in the heart. That is the main difference between them: the primary domain of one is the mind, and of the other, the emotions. The intellect is the place where the G-dly soul resides: “The mind is the dwelling place of the G-dly soul,” in the intellect of the brain. So the way a person brings the light of the soul into the body is through the intellect. How do I make the light of the G-dly soul—the G-dly light present in the mind, in the G-dly soul—felt in the body? Through the intellect. I contemplate and come to understand G-dliness. When a person contemplates G-dliness, that is how the G-dly light in the soul shines within him. So here, when the Alter Rebbe wants to say that the body does not receive it, he uses this expression, “the light of the soul and the intellect.” In other words, the light of the soul is lacking here; its action through the intellect is not affecting the body. There is a maamar by the Alter Rebbe that is very relevant to this. It appears among the maamarim of [unclear]. I don’t remember exactly where—whether it’s in the short maamarim, or Chayei Sarah, or somewhere else. In this maamar, the Alter Rebbe speaks about the Rambam. The Rambam says—we learned this in the Rambam, right?—in Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah, and also in Hilchos Teshuvah, that a person’s soul is the intellect. The Rambam calls the G-dly form

04:27 what we in Chassidus call the G-dly soul. He calls it the intellect. The intellect is the G-dly soul within a person, because through the intellect he comes to recognize G-dliness and to feel G-dliness. So the Alter Rebbe says in the maamar that the Rambam lived before the teachings of Chassidus and Kabbalah were revealed. The Rambam, after all, followed the approach of philosophical inquiry. The Alter Rebbe says that this was the Rambam’s mistake. The Rambam’s mistake—those are difficult words to say, but the Alter Rebbe says them. Since the Rambam lived before Kabbalah and Chassidus were revealed, and since he saw that he connected to Hakadosh Boruch Hu through the intellect—he contemplated, and through contemplation a feeling of closeness, a sense of G-dliness and love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and so on, was awakened in him—he understood the intellect to be the G-dly soul. That is why he says the G-dly form is the intellect. But the truth is that the intellect is only the means, only the path. The soul’s feeling of G-dliness is an intrinsic feeling of G-dliness. It goes far beyond the intellect. The G-dly soul loves Hakadosh Boruch Hu and cleaves to Him by its very nature, because it is literally a part of G-d above. The intellect is only the means, the garment, the vessel through which this happens. But when love and awe, and a feeling of closeness to G-dliness, awaken in a person, that is far more than what the intellect itself provides. In other words, the Alter Rebbe says that we can see this plainly: a person begins with contemplation, but afterward, when a feeling of love and awe, of connection and love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, is kindled within him, it goes far beyond what the intellect provides. This is the idea

06:26 of love like flames of fire, and great love filled with delight—levels of love that the intellect can no longer reach. The intellect is only the means of awakening them. That is what the Alter Rebbe says there in the maamar. It is one of the innovations of Chassidus, or of Kabbalah, in contrast to philosophical inquiry, which viewed the intellect as though a person’s entire connection to Hakadosh Boruch Hu were built on it. But the truth is that the intellect is only the beginning. After that, a person reaches much further, because the soul’s essential way of seeing things is far more exalted than the intellect. In practice, that is what the Alter Rebbe means here when he speaks of the light shining from the soul—“the light of the soul and the intellect.” For the soul to reveal itself in the body and make the body a vessel for the focus of the service of prayer, it has to pass through the intellect. That is why Chassidus places so much emphasis on contemplation, on studying Chassidus before prayer and then contemplating it. A person must contemplate an intellectual concept in G-dliness, and through the intellect the light of the soul awakens within him. That is one point. There is another very interesting detail here. The Alter Rebbe continues: “Although he understands and contemplates with his intellect the greatness of Hashem, it is not grasped and firmly held in his mind enough for him to rule over their materiality and coarseness.” There is something very interesting here that can easily go unnoticed. The Rebbe points out that the Alter Rebbe uses the plural: “their materiality and coarseness.” Why the plural? Whose materiality and coarseness? The Alter Rebbe began by speaking about dullness of heart, the heaviness in his heart. So seemingly it should have been singular: the materiality and coarseness of the heart. Yet he says “their materiality and coarseness.” Apparently, he means not only the heart but also the mind. In other words, the dullness is not only in the heart; there is also dullness of mind. And this is what the Rebbe says,

08:30 Even though he understands and contemplates the greatness of Hashem intellectually—he studies Chassidus, he contemplates G-dliness—it does not take hold. Not only in his heart; it does not take hold even in his mind. There is coarseness and grossness not only in the heart but also in the mind. So the question is: Isn’t this a contradiction? At the beginning, the Alter Rebbe says it is only a blockage of the heart. A beinoni can have only a blockage of the heart. The beginning of the chapter seems to imply that a beinoni’s difficulty can come only from a blockage of the heart, not from the mind. But here it sounds as though there can also be a blockage of the mind: coarseness and grossness, so that even in his mind, G-dliness does not stick. We know from Chassidus that there is a difference between a blockage of the mind and a blockage of the heart. Chassidus generally explains that a blockage of the mind is a punishment. It is a much deeper illness. Everyone knows the maamar “Lefichach Tish’ah Asar.” A blockage of the mind can result even from eating too much. There are all sorts of things—but how could a beinoni develop a blockage of the mind? Especially since the Alter Rebbe himself said earlier, in chapter 17, that a beinoni does not have a blockage of the mind: “The mind is under his control.” The Alter Rebbe said there that the reason we say “For the matter is very close to you” about a beinoni is that his mind is under his control. In other words, his mind does grasp and absorb a G-dly concept. But a blockage of the mind does not mean a problem with the— It is not a problem with the mathematics of Chassidus, with working out the ideas about G-dliness. He could be very intelligent. A blockage of the mind means that somehow it does not stick. You understand? But it does not stick; it does not resonate, does not take hold, does not sink in. Sometimes you study a maamar and you understand—you understand everything—but you feel that something about it does not, does not, does not stick. It does not become part of you; it does not

10:42 sink in. There is something [unclear] about it, something that does not connect with you. That is called a blockage of the mind. It is an illness; it does not fit a beinoni. So how does the Alter Rebbe say here, “coarseness and grossness”? The Rebbe gives an interesting answer. The Rebbe says that the Alter Rebbe does not use this wording in reference to a beinoni. The Alter Rebbe is translating the Zohar. It is not being brought here as an explanation of the beinoni. With these words, the Alter Rebbe is explaining what the Zohar says. The Zohar was not speaking specifically about a beinoni. The Zohar speaks in general: “A body into which the light of the soul does not rise must be struck.” It speaks about the wicked as well as the beinoni; it speaks about all Jews, as a general principle. And anyone can have a blockage of the heart and a blockage of the mind. That is why the Alter Rebbe says there, “their coarseness and grossness.” But of course, the Alter Rebbe brings it here because we are discussing the beinoni, and we will come back to the beinoni shortly. So, as the Rebbe said at the beginning of the chapter, for him it is only, only, only a blockage of the heart. That is why the Alter Rebbe emphasizes at the start of the chapter that it is only a blockage of the heart: if the problem is in the heart, it is not a problem in the mind. And that is what the Rebbe goes on to explain here. Let us go back now, I think, to page 36, the line beginning “And the reason”—the sixth line. The Alter Rebbe says: “And the reason is the grossness of the kelipah, which raises itself above the light of the holiness of the G-dly soul and conceals its light.” He continues to explain why a beinoni has a blockage of the heart: he cannot daven; he cannot illuminate his heart through davening and through “Sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you.” The reason is the grossness of the kelipah. The kelipah is in a state of grossness, and because of that grossness it wants to obstruct holiness, to raise itself up like an eagle. That is what prevents the light of the G-dly soul from shining. What is the new point? The new point

12:45 is that this is the grossness of the kelipah. For a beinoni, it is the grossness of the kelipah. For an ordinary person, it is not necessarily the grossness of the kelipah; it could be his own grossness. For someone who is not a beinoni, a blockage of the mind and heart can come from the very fact that, as it says in the maamar we mentioned earlier, relative to his spiritual level, he is immersed in many desires—whether for forbidden things or for permitted things. And through being immersed in them, as it says there, in Parshas Shemini, forbidden foods dull the heart; they dull a person’s heart. And if he is deeply immersed even in permitted things, that also dulls the mind. So this grossness is not the grossness of the kelipah; it is the grossness of his desires. For that, one needs the approaches mentioned in the sefer for breaking through a blockage of the mind and heart. There are a number of approaches. That is not what we are discussing here. Here we are talking about the beinoni. A beinoni is a person who controls himself in thought, speech, and action. So he certainly has no connection to forbidden desires, or even to desires for permitted things. As we said in the previous class, “Sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you” is not talking about desires for permitted things. It is talking about necessities, where one must also sanctify oneself. As we learned in chapter 27, he delays a meal and eats some time later. It is not that he does not... Those are the kinds of things we are talking about. So we certainly cannot say that this grossness comes from his own physicality. Where does it come from? From the grossness of the kelipah. Since, at the end of the day, he has still not completely transformed his heart, the kelipah is still there, in the left chamber of his heart. And from time to time—that is why he says “at times”—the kelipah tries to rise up, to elevate itself and conceal the G-dly soul. Then, suddenly, the person experiences a blockage and

14:49 cannot daven, cannot do these things. That is what we are discussing—the particular case. But the Zohar is speaking about the matter as a whole and its general principle. Even when someone who is not a beinoni has a blockage of the mind and heart, the Zohar is explaining to us that it all comes from the body’s coarseness. By breaking through that coarseness, one enables the light of the soul to shine within the person. And so the Alter Rebbe says, “Therefore, it must be struck and brought low to the dust.” What is the approach, the Alter Rebbe asks, for overcoming this blockage of the heart in the service of davening? It must be struck and brought low to the dust. That is, one must set aside times to humble oneself, to be “despised in his own eyes, loathsome,” as the verse says. A person needs to find times for this. How do we break the sense of self-importance of the kelipah and sitra achra? The Alter Rebbe says this is the approach: take it and bring it low to the dust. From here, the Alter Rebbe will spend the rest of the chapter explaining the work that needs to be done. But this is the Alter Rebbe’s fundamental point here, the point of the chapter. As we said in the previous class, the great insight the Zohar teaches us is that a Jew is fundamentally healthy. A Jew fundamentally has the light of the soul; he has everything. The problem is not with the soul, not with what he truly is. It is something external—particularly here, as we said, the sitra achra raising itself up. In other words, something external is preventing your truth from shining. So we need to break through that concealment. That is the point here. When we break through that concealment, the inner self is revealed—the light and radiance, the love a Jew has for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Yes, and that is a very fundamental point in our avodah.

17:07 In Chassidus, too, when we speak about the avodah of bitterness, we need to be very, very careful. When we study what we are learning now in chapter 29, if these things are not clear to us, a person can fall into depression. A person can fall into sadness. After all, the Alter Rebbe speaks here about being “despised and loathsome in his own eyes,” about breaking himself by contemplating how he is like an animal, and examining all his Torah study and fear of Heaven, the sins of his youth, and so on. The Alter Rebbe is going to present a whole reckoning involving a number of things. After contemplating how despised he is in his own eyes, a person could lose his desire for everything and feel as though he is a piece of trash. What will give him the strength to serve Hashem? This is something people talk about a lot today: the need to be very careful about self-esteem, about falling into a sense of “Who am I? What am I?” So the Alter Rebbe emphasizes a different point here: the entire contemplation, the soul-searching, is meant to break the kelipah, to break the outer shell. It is meant to break what has become embedded in the animal soul: the sitra achra tries to exalt itself and makes itself out to be the whole reality, when in truth it is all a bluff. It is the spirit of the animal soul, which feels its own strength and exalts itself. Through this contemplation, you break the kelipah of the animal soul, you break the sitra achra, you nullify its sense of being. And precisely by nullifying its sense of being, your true self is revealed. The light of the neshamah within you is revealed, and the true essence of a Jew is revealed. This is precisely what awakens love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu within him, and through it he will come to true joy, as the Alter Rebbe will explain later.

19:08 In the following chapters, chapter 31 continues this subject. This is what the Alter Rebbe says is the foundation of this avodah: “to humble it to the dust.” That is, to set aside times to humble oneself, to be “despised and loathsome in his own eyes,” as it is written, and to have “a broken heart, a broken spirit.” Now, there is a question about what the words “as it is written” refer to. Do they refer to what comes before, or to what comes after? The Rebbe says that plainly, “as it is written” refers to what comes before, because “a broken heart, a broken spirit” is not a verse. There is a verse, “A broken and crushed heart, G-d, You will not despise.” There is a verse, “The sacrifices of G-d are a broken spirit.” But “a broken heart, a broken spirit” is not a verse. “Despised and loathsome in his own eyes,” however, is a verse, in chapter 15. So the Rebbe says we should read it as “despised and loathsome in his own eyes, as it is written.” Then the Alter Rebbe goes on to say: Yes, a person needs to bring about this state of being “despised and loathsome in his own eyes,” as it is written. Through this, he says, he will have a broken heart. By bringing about the breaking of his heart, “the spirit is broken.” What does “the spirit is broken” mean? The spirit that is broken is the sitra achra, which is the person himself in the case of beinonim. It is the person himself, and that is what causes the dullness of his heart. This is part of the soul-searching: it is the person himself, because his essential character is the animal soul. So that needs to be broken. “For the vital soul that gives life to the body is still in its original strength in his heart; thus it is the person himself.” Since in a beinoni the animal soul is still strong, it is the person himself. So when he breaks the sitra achra, his heart is broken, the spirit—the sitra achra—is broken, and through this the neshamah can shine. Now, we need to go into this whole matter and explain it. What does it mean that it is

21:09 the person himself? With Hashem’s help, we will explain that in the next class. I just want to finish here with a well-known saying connected to this whole subject the Rebbe discusses: the avodah of being “despised and loathsome in his own eyes,” the avodah of “a broken heart, a broken spirit.” There is a well-known saying that the Rebbe also cites in his sichos, and even more in his maamarim, attributed to our Rebbeim. Some say it is from the Rebbe Maharash; some say it goes back further. The Rebbe cites the saying in several places: “There is nothing more whole than a broken heart.” Yes, it is a well-known saying. The saying is attributed to the Rebbe Maharash, who said in Yiddish: “There is nothing more crooked than—” These are witticisms, plays on words. In Yiddish, one says “a straight quip”; the words play off one another. “There is nothing more crooked than a straight word.” It does not work well in Hebrew. “And there is nothing straighter than a crooked ladder.” That is how it goes: “There is nothing straighter than a crooked ladder.” “And there is nothing more whole than a broken heart.” That, too, is a play on words: “There is nothing more whole than a broken heart.” It is interesting. The Rebbe once repeated this saying at a farbrengen. The Rebbe asked: What is the source in the revealed teachings of Torah for this saying, that a broken heart is the most whole thing? He gave a very interesting source in the revealed teachings. The halachah concerning offerings is that everything must be unblemished and whole. These are the laws of offerings. An animal that is not unblemished is unfit as an offering. A kohen who is not unblemished cannot offer it. If the altar is not whole, it is unfit for offerings. So the animal must be whole. The kohen must be whole. The altar must be whole. The libations, too, must be unblemished and of the finest quality. But the person bringing the offering is a sinner. So he is not whole.

23:26 It turns out that the one thing lacking is the person who brings the offering. He is not whole; he is a sinner. But what is the answer? He has a broken heart. He brings the offering because he wants to do teshuvah. There is nothing more whole than a broken heart. So the person bringing the offering is whole as well. The Rebbe explained that this is a source in the revealed teachings of Torah for the saying that there is nothing more whole than a broken heart.