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Lichyos Chassidus – Tanya – Rabbi Farkash · Episode 374 · 23 Sivan 5786 · 23:57

Chapter 7 - Part Two

Episode description

Kelipas nogah as an intermediate category, and two ways of elevating from kelipas nogah to holiness.

Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.

00:01 We’re up to chapter 7, page 11b, after the square brackets: “from which come the good character traits in the animal soul of a Jew.” The Alter Rebbe is explaining the subject of kelipas nogah. He explained all the things that kelipas nogah gives life to: the inanimate, the plant, the animal, and the human; and, in a person, all the things that are permitted, as the Alter Rebbe explained. We said there are several levels of kelipas nogah, and in each world it takes a form appropriate to that world. In this physical world, it is almost entirely evil. Nogah is in the middle; it is a mixture of good and evil. But within that, the lower it descends from world to world, the more strongly the evil predominates. In this physical world, it is almost entirely evil, with only a little good mixed into it, “from which come the good character traits in the animal soul of a Jew.” The Alter Rebbe continues: “And it”—meaning kelipas nogah. How does the Alter Rebbe define kelipas nogah? “It is an intermediate level.” Kelipas nogah is something in the middle: “It is an intermediate level between the three completely impure kelipos and the level and degree of holiness.” As an intermediate, kelipas nogah has two sides. It stands between the three impure kelipos and the level and degree of holiness. The Alter Rebbe now begins to explain what it means to be intermediate. Because it is intermediate, it can go in either direction. “Therefore, at times it is included in the three impure kelipos, as stated in Eitz Chaim, gate 49, at the beginning of chapter 4, in the name of the Zohar; and at times it is included in and rises to the level and degree of holiness.” Because kelipas nogah is intermediate, sometimes it rises to holiness, and sometimes it descends in the opposite direction—to the three impure kelipos. So what is the Alter Rebbe telling us here about kelipas nogah? Let’s first introduce another point.

02:27 There is a teaching from the Arizal about the Jordan River. The Gemara says that the Jordan “takes from one and gives to the other.” That is the expression. The Jordan was the river the Jewish people crossed, between Eretz Yisroel and outside Eretz Yisroel. So it says that the Jordan is intermediate between Eretz Yisroel and outside Eretz Yisroel: it takes from one and gives to the other. The Arizal says that the Jordan represents kelipas nogah. It is in the middle; it is intermediate. It takes from the side of holiness and transfers it to the side of kelipah, or the reverse: it takes from the side of kelipah and transfers it to the other side. It takes from one and gives to the other. To explain this: When we speak about something intermediate, Chassidus has a general definition of what that means. It’s discussed in Ranat Shaashuim. The Rebbe Rashab explains the subject at length there: generally, an intermediate thing has two aspects, one from the higher level and one from the lower. For example, the Rebbe Rashab gives several examples there. There are the inanimate, plants, animals, and humans. Between the inanimate and plants there is an intermediate category; between plants and animals there is one; and between animals and humans there is one. There are created things that are intermediate between the inanimate and plants. What example does he give? Something that grows in the sea. You know it—pearls? Coral. What do you call it in...? No, it’s mentioned in the Gemara. I’ve forgotten the word now. It’s here in Ranat. Yes, it’s something found in water. On one hand it grows, and on the other it’s inanimate. It’s like a stone, not a tree—a kind of stone, coral. What’s it called? Coral, a coral tree. Right. Coral, thank you. Just—

04:57 You brought the book, and I remembered too. Yes, a coral tree. Coral is like a tree that is stone. In other words, it has characteristics of a tree and characteristics of a stone. It grows in a certain way, but it doesn’t grow like a plant. It’s a kind of stone that has a certain kind of growth. So it has some characteristics resembling the inanimate and some characteristics of... In physical things, it’s hard to understand what this means. But he gives a spiritual analogy that brings it a little closer to our understanding: the interpreter. In those days there would be an interpreter. There was a rabbi of very great wisdom and understanding, and the people—the students—couldn’t understand him. So someone stood in the middle as an interpreter. The interpreter didn’t merely translate from the holy tongue into Aramaic. He was someone who could understand and absorb the rabbi’s words, because he had bittul. He had genuine bittul, so the rabbi’s words were received by him as they were. And on the other hand, he could also explain them to the people. What does that mean? He explains it this way: the interpreter himself is not the rabbi. If he were, he too would need an interpreter. He is a student; he belongs to the world of those who receive. The interpreter is one of the people, one of the recipients. But he has something special: a particular bittul in his intellect, in his intellectual faculties, a kind of self-effacement that lets him absorb the rabbi’s ideas as they are. He can grasp them—he grasps the rabbi’s words. He has that capacity to receive. That aspect of the interpreter allows the rabbi’s ideas to reach him. And then there is the second aspect, which is—

06:50 He is one of the people, so he knows how to speak their language. He can explain what the rabbi meant. That is the definition of an intermediate: it has one side through which it senses something higher—the rabbi—and another side through which it belongs to the recipient. The Rebbe Rashab explains the matter of [unclear] this way in Ranat[?]; that is what he discusses there. But what do I want to explain here in Tanya? It is very important to understand the deeper meaning of kelipas nogah. The Alter Rebbe said in the previous chapter that kelipah and holiness are opposites. Anything that is not batel is kelipah. So what is kelipas nogah? That is what the Alter Rebbe is trying to explain. What is nogah? Let’s continue. If something is batel, it is holy; if it is not batel, it is kelipah. So what does “intermediate” mean? Here is the point the Alter Rebbe wants to make: intermediate means that it has the ability to become batel. True, in practice it is not batel. In practice it has a sense of independent existence, and therefore it is kelipah. But because it is not completely cut off or separate, it has some positive point, some good point—a spark that has not become entirely distant from the side of holiness. So it has the possibility, the ability, to receive something higher and become batel to it. That is what the Alter Rebbe means by “intermediate between holiness and kelipah.” We’re talking, then, about something that is not holy. Take a piece of meat: that piece of meat is not holiness, it is not G-dliness. It is physical, material meat, and so, in itself, it is kelipah. In itself, it is something that is not batel to G-dliness. But on the other hand, it does not oppose G-dliness. In other words, it also has the—

08:38 Possibility. It gives you the possibility; it has the capacity for bittul, the ability to become batel. If you use it for a mitzvah, you can elevate it. Something forbidden does not have that. It does not have that ability; even potentially, it is not possible for it. Because it is forbidden, it is the opposite—it opposes holiness, and you cannot elevate it. But something permitted has a certain aspect of bittul. That bittul is precisely what allows a person to elevate it. Now, in practice, it depends on the person. Whether it descends to the side of kelipah or rises to the side of holiness depends on the person. Before a person touches the thing itself—there is a saying chassidim used to say that anything in the world, before a person touches it, is neutral. It has a side of holiness and a side of kelipah. It can be elevated. By itself, the thing is what it is. It can neither descend nor rise. But the moment a person touches it... There was a saying among chassidim that a piece of meat lying on the table is neither good nor bad. It is in an intermediate state. On one hand, it is not batel; on the other, it does not oppose holiness. It is neutral—neither one nor the other, as they say. But the moment a person picks up a fork and takes hold of the meat, the meat is headed in one of two directions: either it will rise to holiness and become something batel to G-dliness, or it will descend to the three impure kelipos. It will no longer remain in the middle. As we said, it is also possible that it will remain somewhat in the middle if he eats it not for the sake of holiness, but also not

10:36 For the sake of desire—he eats it because his body needs it to survive. We said that isn’t ideal. But we explained that this, too, descends. Ultimately, the moment a person uses something, he does something to it: either he elevates it or he brings it down. That is what the Alter Rebbe means when he says it occupies an intermediate position in kelipas nogah—a permitted thing. On the one hand, it is not nullified; it has an independent existence, and that is why it is called a kelipah. On the other hand, because it does not conceal G-dliness either, it gives you the possibility of elevating it when a person chooses to serve Hashem for His sake, for the sake of Heaven. So it is an intermediate state: sometimes it rises into holiness, and sometimes it descends into kelipah. It is intermediate as long as a person hasn’t touched it. The moment a person does, there are only two possibilities: either it rises into holiness and becomes G-dliness, or it descends into the three impure kelipos and becomes opposed to G-dliness. That is the whole idea of the avodah the Alter Rebbe is trying to explain to us here. Now the Alter Rebbe will give an example. He is going to make this whole idea tangible: What exactly happens with kelipas nogah? What does it mean that nogah is intermediate, that it can rise or fall? The Alter Rebbe says: “When the good mixed within it is separated from the evil.” How do you take something from kelipah and turn it into holiness? As we said, there is a spark of holiness in everything in the world, and because this is nogah, it is a spark that can be elevated. It is not opposed to G-dliness. So when the good within it, mixed with it, is separated from the evil, “it prevails, rises, and is incorporated into holiness.” It prevails over the evil, because after all—

12:31 We said that it is almost entirely evil. That is what the physical is: the tendency of every physical thing in the world is to go toward the side of evil. That is what is meant by “the wicked predominate in it.” Look at the previous chapter. What is a physical thing? It is kelipah, the sitra achra, and the wicked predominate in it. Its natural tendency, quite simply, is toward the side of evil. Everyone can see this for themselves. When you see something physical, something desirable, your first inclination is to want to enjoy it. You have to work to uncover its holy side. You have to look for what the G-dly intention in it might be. That takes effort; it isn’t natural, and it isn’t apparent at first glance. The world shows us its material side. By its nature, the world shows us materiality, the physical, the appetitive, animal side. A person has to refine himself to seek out and see the G-dly intention within it. So when a person—this is what it means: “When the good mixed within it is separated from the evil, prevails, rises, and is incorporated into holiness,” as in the case of someone who “eats the fatty meat of an ox and drinks fragrant wine to broaden his mind for Hashem and His Torah.” You see this in the example of eating. We are talking here about the fatty meat of an ox, something distinctly material. It isn’t just any food: it is meat, not bread—meat itself, fatty ox meat. And likewise with wine: notice that he emphasizes “fragrant wine,” not just wine. Besides being wine—and wine itself has an animalistic pull; it draws a person toward materiality, as several verses and tractates warn about wine and the undesirable things it can lead to—it is fragrant wine.

14:30 Wine can bring a person to heresy, to casting off the yoke, and even to sins and transgressions. Especially fragrant wine. The Rebbe explains that the emphasis on “fragrant” means that, besides engaging the sense of taste, it also engages the sense of smell. The wine has a pleasant aroma. So the nose, too, experiences a desire to drink it. “To broaden his mind”—but why does he do this? He does it with a G-dly intention. Why does he eat this meat and drink this wine? “To broaden his mind for Hashem and His Torah,” as Rava said, “Wine and fragrance…” What is the point of that Gemara, ultimately? In any case, what is the point here? The Alter Rebbe is teaching us that there can be things other than bread and water—tasty things. Fatty meat: he eats meat. Why do you need to eat meat? Eat bread, eat vegetables. But this is meat, and likewise fragrant wine. Drink water! No, you need specifically to drink wine. Well, those were the things people desired back then. Today there are other things. In any case, what is the point? The point the Alter Rebbe is making is that we are talking about broadening his mind. He doesn’t eat only to be full; he also eats to broaden his mind. Sometimes a person eats tasty food, and the food gives him a certain expansiveness—not just simple satiety. He feels better; he feels more pleasure. Consequently, it gives him a certain mental clarity, too. That is what Rava said: “Wine and fragrance sharpen the mind.” That is Rava’s wording. He needs something like that. In that Gemara, if I’m not mistaken, in Bava Basra, it says that one of the Amoraim could not issue a ruling because he had not eaten meat that day; he was missing a particular kind of meat.

16:43 In the Gemara about Tzadok, I think. He needed a certain kind of meat that gave him the mental space to rule, to give a halachic decision. So what is the point here? Sometimes even things that are not essential—things that seemingly are not necessities—can give a person the breadth of mind he needs for learning. How does the wording go? “For Hashem and His Torah, as Rava said, ‘Wine and fragrance,’ etc. Or in order to fulfill the mitzvah of enjoying Shabbos and Yom Tov. Then the vitality of the meat and wine, which comes from kelipas nogah, is refined and rises to Hashem like a burnt offering and a sacrifice.” So the Alter Rebbe gives two examples here. That is how the commentators on Tanya have always learned it: one example of eating on a weekday, and a second example of eating on Shabbos and Yom Tov. Look, he eats food on a weekday; eating it is not a mitzvah. But he eats it so that he will have the strength to serve Hashem. Then we come to Shabbos and Yom Tov, where it is a mitzvah. There is a mitzvah on Shabbos—the Rambam writes of the positive mitzvah of enjoying Shabbos—to eat meat and drink wine. And on Yom Tov there is the mitzvah of rejoicing: “You shall rejoice on your festival,” with meat and wine. So the meat and wine themselves are part of serving Hashem. Chassidim would always explain that this accounts for the double expression the Alter Rebbe uses: “rises to Hashem like a burnt offering and a sacrifice.” Why does the Alter Rebbe use two terms, “a burnt offering” and “a sacrifice”? The difference is that a burnt offering is entirely for Hashem; that is its defining feature. With another sacrifice, such as a peace offering, it is not entirely for Hashem. Its owners eat from it, though it has a portion for Hashem. So several commentators on Tanya understood these two expressions, “a burnt offering and a sacrifice,” as corresponding to the two cases the Alter Rebbe discussed. Eating meat on an ordinary day in order to serve Hashem is more like a peace offering, while eating meat on Shabbos and Yom Tov is like a burnt offering: the eating itself is a mitzvah.

18:54 As the Rebbe explains in Likkutei Sichos, there is a difference between “Let all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven” and “Know Him in all your ways.” With “Let all your deeds be for the sake of Heaven,” the act itself is one thing, and its purpose is for the sake of Heaven: it brings you to that purpose, but the act itself is not holy. By contrast, “Know Him in all your ways” means that your ways themselves are service of Hashem. In general, that is the distinction between a burnt offering and another sacrifice, and consequently the distinction between eating meat in order to serve Hashem and eating meat as a mitzvah on Shabbos and Yom Tov. There is an explanation here from Reb Levik, the Rebbe’s father. Regarding “like a burnt offering and a sacrifice,” he says that this parallels a burnt offering and its wine libations. The Gemara says that anyone who recites Shema without tefillin is like someone who offers a burnt offering without its libations. So he suggests that this is what “like a burnt offering and a sacrifice” might mean: the burnt offering is the meat, while by “sacrifice” he means the libations. The Alter Rebbe gave two examples, one involving meat and the other wine. So the meat is like a burnt offering—a burnt offering consists of meat—and the libations are wine. That may be the meaning of “like a burnt offering and a sacrifice”: when you eat meat for the sake of Heaven, it is like a burnt offering; when you drink wine for the sake of Heaven, it is like the libations. That is “like a burnt offering and a sacrifice.” Just an interesting point. In any case, that is what we—

20:56 What we’re learning here now is what it means to take something that is physical, something permissible in this world, and elevate it to Hashem—to make it G-dly. The moment you use it with a G-dly intention, it rises into holiness and becomes an offering to Hashem. Today’s Hayom Yom also made this very point. It’s very interesting: the Rebbe brings a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov on “Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.” The Baal Shem Tov says that everything physical in the world has its evil side—the physical, material nature and taste of it. It also has its good side—the spiritual dimension within it, the G-dliness within it. With everything in the world, a person has to “turn away from evil”: not seek pleasure from the thing’s physical nature, but “do good”—seek its spiritual dimension and use it for the sake of Heaven. Then the Baal Shem Tov continues: “Seek peace.” Someone who wants to serve Hashem must “seek peace and pursue it,” looking to make peace between the physical and the spiritual. “Seek peace and pursue it.” The Rebbe once explained that the two parts of the Hayom Yom point in different directions: first it says, “Turn away from evil and do good,” separating the good from the evil. Then it says, “Seek peace”—bring them together. In other words, there are two stages in serving Hashem in the matter we’re learning here. Do you flee from the physical, or make use of it? Is the approach one of abstinence, or specifically one of enjoyment and involvement with the physical? These are two ways of serving Hashem with physical things, and both appear in today’s Hayom Yom. I once wondered what the connection was. On a simple level, today’s Hayom Yom is connected to the verse in Thursday’s Tehillim. Sometimes the Hayom Yom also discusses

23:00 the daily Tehillim. It’s simply a verse in today’s Tehillim and in the Tehillim of the yechidus. So the Rebbe explains the verse in sequence. But there’s a deeper connection, too: it relates to the teachings of the Arizal. After all, it was the Arizal who revealed the whole subject of refining the sparks. The entire subject of refining the sparks was revealed by the Arizal: the idea that there are sparks in the world that need to be elevated, and that the whole purpose of the world’s creation is to elevate those sparks and carry out that refinement, thereby preparing for the Geulah. This is one of the foundations of the Arizal’s teachings. The Baal Shem Tov took the Arizal’s teaching and turned it into a path in serving Hashem—the very work we’re learning about here in Tanya: how to work with kelipas nogah, elevate physical things, and make them vessels for G-dliness. “You shall surely help along with him”—make the physical into a vessel for G-dliness.