Likkutei Amarim Chapter 30 - Part 4

00:00 We’re up to chapter 30, in the middle of page 38b. “And therefore.” So here the Alter Rebbe begins to explain what our Sages mean when they say, “Be humble of spirit before every person.” The Alter Rebbe explains that “before every person” means truly and genuinely before everyone—even before the lowest of the low. The question is: How can a person genuinely feel that way when he knows that he is a beinoni? He shouldn’t fool himself; he needs to know the truth. And the other person is among the lowest of the low. So the Alter Rebbe makes a reckoning here. We’re in the middle of it; he hasn’t finished yet. The reckoning concludes at the end of the chapter, and it has several parts. First, the Alter Rebbe explains, “Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place.” He explains that the person’s place leads him to sin. There is a physical place and a spiritual place. The lowest of the low is physically in a place of danger, and spiritually, too, his evil inclination burns like a blazing fire. A beinoni may not be in such a place. He’s in the study hall, the shul, the yeshivah; and he may not have an inclination that burns so fiercely. So from every angle, he’s in a much easier situation. The Alter Rebbe says that this does not excuse the lowest of the low. Having a powerful evil inclination and being out in the marketplace does not give him an excuse. He must have fear of G-d before his eyes. In the previous class, we spoke about fear of G-d and fear of Hashem—the two levels discussed here that protect a person, both when the eyes see and when

02:05 the heart desires. “Fear of G-d” and “fear of Hashem” are the two expressions the Alter Rebbe uses. So even the lowest of the low needs fear of Hashem to protect him and enable him to overcome his burning inclination, and so on. Now the Alter Rebbe says, “And therefore”—but what does that entail? It is a great and mighty battle. Hashem demands that the lowest of the low fight a great and mighty battle to overcome his test. The Alter Rebbe continues: “And therefore, each person, according to his place and level in serving Hashem, must weigh and examine himself: Does he serve Hashem with a comparable, equally mighty battle and test?” Here comes the reckoning. The Alter Rebbe is saying that the beinoni has to look at himself. When we compare the beinoni with the lowest of the low, the beinoni has to look at himself and ask: “Am I fighting in the same way, with the same kind of effort? Not in the same matters—I don’t face those tests. But in my own matters, where something is demanded of me in the service of a beinoni, do I serve Hashem with the same kind of toil, enthusiasm, and intensity that is demanded of the lowest of the low?” That is the reckoning the Alter Rebbe is coming to now. And it still isn’t the end of it. But the principle we’re about to learn here—and throughout almost the entire rest of the chapter—is that when you compare yourself with the lowest of the low, you don’t look at the deeds. Clearly, his deeds and yours are not on the same level. But we aren’t looking at deeds; we’re looking at the service, the effort, the battles. That’s what we’re looking at. Hashem expects tremendous effort and service from the lowest of the low. He is a person who faces

04:20 such great tests, has such a powerful evil inclination, and is in a place of danger every moment of his day. That is his situation, and Hashem expects him to serve Him through a mighty battle. So I need to assess myself and ask: In my own matters, in my own place and in my own service—as the Alter Rebbe will illustrate with various examples of good deeds—do I, too, serve Hashem with the same kind of tremendous effort demanded of the lowest of the low? That is the question I need to ask myself. Am I serving Hashem at that level? And if I conclude that I fall short, as the Alter Rebbe’s reckoning will show, then each person will ultimately conclude that, measured against the effort demanded of the lowest of the low, his own service of Hashem is not as it should be. The Alter Rebbe will conclude the chapter by saying that for the beinoni, this is worse. The fact that, at his level, he doesn’t exert himself with the same force and intensity demanded of the lowest of the low is worse—because you are a person who has studied. More is demanded of someone who has studied and regards himself as such than of someone who has not. It’s like the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos: “An inadvertent error in study is considered deliberate.” In other words, demands are placed on each person according to his level. Some explanations say that his inadvertent error is treated as deliberate: each person is held to a higher standard according to his level. And so, taking all these details into account, the Alter Rebbe will conclude that a person can be humble of spirit before every person—truly and genuinely. Sorry.

06:21 Yes. The question is: Why is he called “the lowest of the low,” given the situation he’s in? As we discussed, it’s because, in practice, he has no excuse. A person has no justification, as the Rebbe says. When Hashem gives someone a test, He also gives him the strength to withstand it. We discussed this too. As the Rebbe always says, this chapter teaches us not only the difference between the beinoni and the lowest of the low, but also the strengths of the lowest of the low. The Rebbe is teaching us how to view him: the very fact that Hashem placed him in such a situation, physically and spiritually, with such a test, means that Hashem truly gave him the strength to meet it. As we know, Hashem does not make unfair demands. Hashem does not give a person a test he cannot withstand. So if you face such a test, that means your neshamah is capable of meeting it. That is why it is demanded of him, and why he has no justification. So this chapter also teaches us about the tremendous strengths possessed by the lowest of the low. That’s what the Rebbe explained to us, I think, in the previous class. The Rebbe says in part 27 of the sicha that we also learn a practical lesson from this: by thinking well of another person, you awaken his hidden strengths. We spoke about that. Thinking about the potential the lowest of the low possesses also helps bring out his strengths, and so on—the whole idea. Let’s continue inside the text. “And if so, each person, according to his place and level in serving Hashem, must weigh and examine himself: Does he serve Hashem with a comparable, equally mighty battle and test?”

08:18 “In the category of ‘do good,’ such as in the service of prayer, concentrating on pouring out one’s soul before Hashem.” The Alter Rebbe now begins to give several examples of areas of avodah that require effort. His first example is prayer. And the reason is straightforward: this idea of a tremendous battle is central to the service of prayer. As is well known, the Zohar says, “The time of prayer is a time of battle.” Likkutei Torah, in Parshas Ki Seitzei, explains this at length: the main battle takes place during prayer. That is why it is the first example of where work and effort are required. So, in prayer, one must concentrate on pouring out one’s soul before Hashem with all one’s strength. A person has to pour out his soul to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, drawing on every part of himself, “and battle with his body and the animal soul within him, which prevent him from concentrating.” A person has to wage a tremendous battle against the body and animal soul that interfere with his concentration in prayer. So there are two aspects here: the effort of the G-dly soul and the effort involved with the animal soul. When he says to pour out one’s soul before Hashem with all one’s strength, that is effort on the part of the G-dly soul. Pouring out the soul is the G-dly soul’s avodah. Going beyond the G-dly soul’s limits means pouring out the soul. Pouring out the soul is akin to mesirus nefesh: it is as though the soul is poured out, as though it becomes utterly nullified. The G-dly soul’s self-nullification before Hakadosh Boruch Hu also takes tremendous effort. Then there is the effort involved with the animal soul, which interferes with concentration. So the effort here is twofold: “to wage a tremendous battle against them and crush and break them like dust before prayer.” Even before prayer, there is work to be done to break the coarseness of the animal soul.

10:29 “Which prevent him from concentrating.” Where is that? Sorry. “Before the morning and evening prayers, each and every day.” Every single day, when praying. Before the morning and evening prayers, one has to break the yetzer through a tremendous battle. The Rebbe points out the wording “morning and evening.” What about Minchah? Why doesn’t he mention Minchah? In general, he says “morning and evening” because the avodah of prayer is primarily associated with the morning and evening—the times for reciting Shema. Essentially, the central avodah of prayer is connected with Shema. But the Rebbe says something very interesting: perhaps it is connected with what Chassidus says about Minchah. At Minchah, a Jew has the help that comes from the very fact that he stops in the middle of the day, in the middle of his work; that itself already breaks the animal soul. The very fact that a person stops working in the middle of the day. As explained in the Zohar regarding Minchah, there is something special about it because he stops what he is doing. So there, not as much effort is needed on the person’s part; that act itself has an effect. Nevertheless, at Minchah too, effort is required, and during prayer as well. There is effort before prayer, and one must also exert oneself during prayer: “effort of the soul and effort of the flesh, as explained at length below.” During prayer itself, effort is required too. And he specifies two kinds of effort: effort of the soul and effort of the flesh. What does “as explained at length below” refer to? Chapter 42 of Tanya. There the Alter Rebbe explains the idea of effort, including effort of the flesh. In chapter 42, the Alter Rebbe speaks about the faculty of daas—that every Jew has the capacity for daas and focused attention, which we inherited from Moshe Rabbeinu. There is the daas that Moshe brings to each person, and the soul’s faculty of daas that we

12:29 inherited, and so on. But because the soul is clothed in a body, tremendous effort is needed—effort upon effort. So there is effort of the soul and effort of the flesh. The Alter Rebbe explains there: What is effort of the soul? What is effort of the flesh? What are these two kinds of effort? He says that effort of the flesh means thoughts of teshuvah from the depths of the heart, as explained in chapter 29. He takes us back to the previous chapter. That is called effort of the flesh. It’s interesting: the contemplation and self-examination we learned about in chapter 29 is what the Alter Rebbe calls effort of the flesh. It is about breaking the flesh. After all, in chapter 29 we learned the Zohar’s statement: “A body that the light of the soul does not penetrate must be crushed.” One has to break the coarseness that prevents one from sensing Hakadosh Boruch Hu in prayer. So that is called effort of the flesh: thoughts of teshuvah. It’s interesting, because Hayom Yom says something else about effort of the flesh. Right? Wait, we’ll get to that in a moment. So the Alter Rebbe says that effort of the flesh is thoughts of teshuvah from the depths of the heart, as explained in chapter 29. And what does the Alter Rebbe say effort of the soul is? That one should not find it too burdensome to exert one’s mind, delving deeply into and contemplating the greatness of Hashem for a long, uninterrupted period. Effort of the soul means exerting the soul’s faculties: the effort of contemplation, sitting for an extended time and contemplating. That takes tremendous effort. That is effort of the soul. The soul is not accustomed to sitting and contemplating; one has to train it to contemplate. That is called effort of the soul. This is what the Alter Rebbe says in chapter 42. In Hayom Yom, the Rebbe says that effort of the flesh means removing the pleasurable taste from the desires of this world. That is called effort of the flesh. And effort of the soul means awakening a pleasurable taste for intellectual matters in general, and for Torah in particular. I think that is how Hayom Yom puts it. In other words, there it is expressed in

14:17 more everyday, simpler terms. Effort of the flesh means working on the flesh itself, refining it, as I mentioned. And effort of the soul means awakening a geshmak in intellectual matters, and especially in Torah. That is how the Rebbe puts it in Hayom Yom. So there are two explanations. In any case, here in Tanya, chapter 30, look at what he says: “And anyone who has not reached this measure, to wage such a tremendous battle with his body, has not yet reached any semblance of the battle against the yetzer that burns like a flaming fire, to subdue and break it out of fear of Hashem.” So as long as you are not working at prayer with this tremendous effort we have discussed—praying with tremendous effort, with all it entails: effort of the soul, effort involving the body and the animal soul, before prayer and during prayer, and effort of the flesh—if you have not engaged in prayer this way, you have not reached anything resembling that battle. That is the Alter Rebbe’s wording here. In other words, you have not even reached the kind of battle demanded of the most spiritually lowly person when his yetzer burns like a flaming fire and he must subdue and break it out of fear of Hashem. Such a person is required to make a tremendous effort, to subdue himself and break himself because of his fear of Hashem. That same effort, with the same intensity, is demanded of the beinoni in confronting the sitra achra and in the service of prayer, just as it is demanded of that lowly person when it comes to fearing Hashem and refraining from a transgression. If you do not exert yourself in this way, your effort is not at all comparable to what is demanded of him. So that is the example he gives from the service of prayer. The Alter Rebbe goes on to say: “And likewise with bentching and all blessings recited over things one enjoys.” He has been speaking about prayer. Then there are also blessings. He brings them up next because they, too, are part of prayer. It’s just a different kind

16:18 Next, in prayer, there is the matter of blessings. Blessings include Birkas Hamazon and all the blessings over things we enjoy and over mitzvos. Here he means the blessings over mitzvos. The effort there is in having kavanah—in the blessings, and, we should add, in performing the mitzvos for their own sake. These are two things: kavanah in blessings and kavanah in mitzvos. So the effort here is in kavanah. We know that blessings are a very important matter. There are the hundred daily blessings: King David instituted them, and Chassidus in particular explains what is accomplished through them—drawing down the fear of Hashem here below—and all the significance of the hundred blessings. In practice, though, it is very difficult. We see that having kavanah in blessings is often especially hard. People are in a hurry. You are about to eat, and you say the blessing in a flash—even saying the blessing and its words properly takes attention. Sometimes people rush so much that they are already eating before they have finished the blessing. But here we are talking about the kavanah of the blessing, and that is difficult: keeping your mind on it and thinking about what you are saying. The wording of the blessing—these things require great effort. Chassidim tell a story about the well-known Radatz, Radatz Chein, one of the great chassidim. When he was a young boy of twelve, his father, Reb Peretz, brought him to the Tzemach Tzedek. The Tzemach Tzedek told him that at twelve years old, it was time to stop being a child. He used an expression, “oys kind”—time, as we would say, to grow up. He told him something about yiras Shamayim, about working on his fear of Heaven. As advice, he told him that before saying a blessing, he should stop and think for a few seconds. He had time. Before saying a blessing, he should think—why? To pause before giving in to his appetite. And from then on, all his life

18:27 they say that Radatz had a practice throughout the day: before saying any blessing at all, he would put his hand on his forehead for a minute or two, and then say the blessing with particular kavanah. From the age of twelve, he had trained himself to say a blessing with a certain preparation, in a certain way. So much so that once—I heard this; the Frierdiker Rebbe relates it in a sicha—Radatz was in Lubavitch with the Rebbe Maharash and was called up for an aliyah to the Torah. The Rebbe Maharash was standing nearby and saw Radatz approach the Torah scroll. Before saying the blessing over the Torah, he put his hand on his forehead, closed his eyes for a few minutes, and then said the blessing. The Rebbe Maharash made some remark expressing amazement. He said, “To such an extent?” I don’t remember the exact wording—something about the way he stood before saying the blessing over the Torah. I don’t know precisely what the expression was, but it was a particular Yiddish phrase. In any case, that is Birkas Hamazon and the blessings over things we enjoy. Having kavanah is no simple matter. I once heard something from an uncle of mine, Reb Moshe Weber. Moshe Weber was a chassidic Jew. Some even said of him that he was a beinoni as described in Tanya. In any case, he was a very, very special Jew in the holy city of Jerusalem. I think your father had a connection with him—he learned from him. He was a very special, very dear Jew. Once, speaking about Birkas Hamazon—after all, it speaks about Moshiach and contains very powerful prayers for the Geulah and Moshiach—he said: A person has eaten a meal, his stomach is full, and there he is saying, “And rebuild Jerusalem, the holy city,”

20:47 and truly wanting the Geulah at that moment is very difficult. It is very hard to bring that about. In any case, having kavanah in Birkas Hamazon and in the blessings over things we enjoy requires very great effort. And, of course, there is also the kavanah of doing the mitzvah itself specifically for the sake of the mitzvah. All of this takes effort. That was all in the area of eating. Now the Alter Rebbe also turns to Torah: “As for engaging in Torah study, to study much more than he desires and wishes according to his nature and habit, through an immense struggle with his body.” The same principle applies to Torah: there is effort in Torah study too. What is effort in Torah study? Studying much more than one naturally wants or is accustomed to, through an immense struggle with the body. The Rebbe points out the precise wording. The Alter Rebbe says “much more.” Why “much more”? Because the Alter Rebbe already said in chapter 15 that a beinoni needs to be an oved Elokim, one who serves Hashem. And what makes someone an oved Elokim? Studying more than he is accustomed to. So what is new here, if he is a beinoni? A beinoni is an oved Elokim, so of course he studies more than usual. That is why the Alter Rebbe specifies “much more.” He is not talking about merely studying more than usual. What he discussed in chapter 15 was what it takes to be an oved Elokim. Here it is not enough just to learn one more time than usual—one hundred and one times instead of one hundred. That extra time already goes beyond his habit, and he is called an oved Elokim. But when you make the reckoning here, measuring yourself against the least observant person and the immense effort he must make, then it is not just a little more; it is much more. That is the precise wording the Rebbe points out here: “to study much more than he desires and wishes according to his nature and habit, through an immense struggle with his body.”

22:38 Here an immense struggle with the body is needed. For a person to study much more than he is accustomed to studying takes very great effort against the nature of the body. Studying a little more than one’s nature inclines one to study is a small struggle. As we said, it makes him an oved Elokim, but it is a small struggle, incomparable to the struggle against a yetzer hara that burns like fire. The person who does not overcome that yetzer, subduing and breaking it before Hashem, is called a complete rasha. So the same standard applies here. If he does not fight his yetzer in this way—just as the least observant person is called a complete rasha because he does not subdue and break himself before the fear of Hashem, and there it takes immense effort—the same immense effort must be brought to Torah study. There is a story connected with what we have just learned, a story about Rabbi Sholom [unclear] that we told last week, in one of the classes. Rabbi Sholom [unclear] said that a chossid is worse than—[unclear]. That is how the Rebbe would always tell the story: a chossid knows about [unclear]. Why? Because only a chossid studies Chassidus, so he knows [unclear]. He himself had not been in Lubavitch at all, but the Rebbe did say it. In any case, perhaps there is more to the story. I also heard it in a different version from Reb Mendel Futerfas. Perhaps it happened twice, or perhaps there are two versions of the same event; I am not sure. Reb Mendel used to say that he had also heard that Rabbi [unclear] said a chossid was worse than Yeravam ben Nevat. That is what he said: a chossid is

24:33 worse than Yeravam ben Nevat. So the Frierdiker Rebbe asked him, “To such an extent?” He said yes. Why? Because, as the Alter Rebbe says, Yeravam ben Nevat does not have thoughts of teshuvah come to him—thoughts of remorse do not come to him. But a chossid, because he thinks of himself as a chossid, has no thoughts of remorse. He thinks he is a chossid, and precisely because he thinks he is a chossid, he lacks that remorse. So the Frierdiker Rebbe said to him, “Let us say he is like Yeravam ben Nevat, but why did you say he is worse?” He answered, “The difference is that Yeravam ben Nevat did not study Chassidus, while the chossid did study Chassidus, and nevertheless he is worse.” This was said in the context of serving Hashem—but the Frierdiker Rebbe did not agree. He said, “One should not say it that way. That isn’t right.” I don’t know whether this is the same story or another one. But it is also connected to this chapter. The point of the Alter Rebbe’s statement is: Why, in this particular respect, is the beinoni worse than the least observant person? Because that person has not studied. You have studied, so more is demanded of you. That is the point here.