We have arrived at chapter 18 of Likkutei Amarim, the first part of the Tanya. The chapter begins on page 23b (page 46). As we mentioned in the previous lesson, from chapter 18 onward the Alter Rebbe opens an entirely new order of discussion: how a Jew can actually succeed in serving Hashem. In order to appreciate what is new here, let us briefly review what we learned in the earlier chapters and what changes from this point on.
When the Alter Rebbe spoke about the beinoni and about what makes him who he is, he stressed again and again that his Torah and mitzvos must not be dry. They have to be accompanied by, and filled with, feeling: ahavas Hashem (love of G-d) and yiras Hashem (fear of G-d).
Chapters 3-4: Love of Hashem is the foundation that enables a Jew to fulfill the positive commandments, and fear of Heaven is the foundation that gives him the ability to be careful and not stumble in the prohibitions. It emerges that genuine, proper fulfillment of Torah and mitzvos requires emotion.
Chapter 16: When a Jew performs Torah and mitzvos with feeling, he elevates them upward; when they are done without feeling, they remain below.
Chapter 17: There is the Jew who simply cannot reach an emotion that is genuinely felt in the heart, and on the other hand emotion is of the utmost importance. Here the Alter Rebbe introduced the concept of "uvilvavcha laasoso": a feeling located in the "hidden recesses of the heart," not an actually felt emotion but something like a decision that it is fitting, correct and proper to act in such a way, and all of this still belongs to the world of the heart and the emotions.
But to arrive even at that, one must contemplate the greatness of Hashem, for there is no reaching emotion without intellect: the mind acts upon the heart. And in order to contemplate the greatness of Hashem and to know Him, several conditions are indispensable, without which a person will never arrive at feeling:
Knowledge: he has to learn a great deal, so that he has material, so that he knows what there is to contemplate. He cannot be an ignoramus who knows nothing and still claim that he will succeed in arousing emotion.
A talent for contemplation: once he has studied and knows, that alone is not enough. He has to be capable of actually meditating on what he knows.
Bringing the contemplation down into the heart: the contemplation must not remain stuck in the mind; it has to penetrate, descend and seep into the heart.
This process is anything but simple, and a great many things can get in its way. Chassidus explains that between the mind and the heart there stands the "narrow passage of the throat": just as physically the throat is narrow, so too spiritually there is a thin channel, and passage through it is not simple, for it is full of obstructions and delays. This narrow place is in the category of "Mitzrayim" (Egypt, from the word meitzar, a narrow strait), and Chassidus explains that stationed there are the Egyptian ministers mentioned in the Torah: the chief baker, the chief butler and the chief executioner. They are the obstructions and delays that prevent a person from letting these matters enter his heart: his immersion in worldly affairs, the importance the world holds in his eyes, and his desires for it. This barrier is extremely difficult to break.
Beyond these ministers there is "Pharaoh," whose letters spell ha'oref, the nape of the neck: he stands behind a person and refuses to let anything penetrate inward. And even after a person has managed to leave Mitzrayim, Amalek is waiting for him to cool him off: "Fine, you understood, but who says it is exactly so?" It emerges that he has to pass through so many thoughts, difficulties and obstacles before he reaches his redemption, that is, before he reaches emotion and arousal. "Min hameitzar karasi" ("From the straits I called out"): a person finds himself in a narrow place, and it is very hard for him.
Consequently, everything explained in the previous chapters, that a person can contemplate, be moved, and arrive at what he is meant to arrive at, is all true, but not everyone is capable of it. It demands knowledge, it demands talent, and it demands the ability to cope with all the interference. And the one who has managed to get through all of this is one in a hundred.
Now, what does the verse upon which the entire Tanya is built say? "Ki karov eilecha hadavar me'od" ("For the matter is very close to you"). Had the verse said only "the matter is close to you," there would be room to say that it is indeed close, but one must still pass through several processes before reaching it. The word "me'od," "very," which the Torah emphasizes here, teaches that there are no obstructions and no delays at all: even one who has no knowledge because he never studied can reach it; even one who has knowledge but lacks the talent to bring it down into contemplation can reach it; and even one who has every obstruction and delay standing in his way, the chief baker, the chief executioner and the chief butler, Pharaoh and Amalek, he too can reach it, can reach love of Hashem and fear of Hashem. The question is how.
Here a new page opens. Everything we have learned until now may belong to exceptional individuals, to special people; who says that every single person can reach it? Chapter 18 comes to give encouragement to each and every one: whatever starting conditions he arrives with, he can reach it. Everyone alive, every single one.
Let us turn to the words of the chapter:
"ולתוספת ביאור באר היטב מלת מאד שבפסוק כי קרוב אליך הדבר מאד" ("And to explain more fully, to explain well the word 'very' in the verse, 'For the matter is very close to you'"). The word "very" needs a good explanation, because it is precisely the problematic word for us: how can one say that the matter is so close?
"צריך לידע נאמנה" ("one must know with certainty"), to know clearly and truly, with no doubt whatsoever, "כי אף מי שדעתו קצרה בידיעת ה'" ("that even one whose mind is limited in the knowledge of G-d"), one who does not know much. For to arrive at emotion one must contemplate, and to contemplate one needs a broad knowledge of G-dliness, and this person knows only a little; he barely studied and barely recognizes a few concepts. That is the first deficiency.
"ואין לו לב להבין בגדולת א"ס ב"ה להוליד ממנה דחילו ורחימו" ("and has no heart to comprehend the greatness of the blessed Infinite One, so as to give birth from it to fear and love"). This is a second deficiency. It does not mean that he has no physical heart (check him and you will find a pulse), but that he lacks the ability to activate his heart, and he finds it hard to bring these matters inside him, for the descent from mind to heart is very hard work. "To give birth from it to fear and love": to generate in the heart a feeling of fear of Heaven or of love of Hashem. And love of Hashem requires one type of contemplation while fear of Hashem requires another type, and for that one needs a great deal of knowledge, an approach, and an inner orientation toward the matter.
"אפילו במוחו ותבונתו לבד" ("even in his mind and understanding alone"). Even what we learned in chapter 17, that one who does not reach an active feeling in the heart will at least have the intellectual agreement that this is fitting and correct, even that is hard for him.
"אף על פי כן קרוב אליו הדבר מאד" ("nevertheless, the matter is very close to him"). The verse does not say simply "the matter is close to you" but "the matter is very close to you." In what way? "In your mouth and in your heart, to do it": to arrive at fulfillment in speech, in thought, in the heart, and in deed as well.
"לשמור ולעשות כל מצות התורה ותלמוד תורה כנגד כולן" ("to observe and to perform all the commandments of the Torah, and Torah study which is equal to them all"). "To observe" includes the prohibitions, to guard oneself and not stumble; "and to perform" means to fulfill all the positive commandments; and Torah study which is equal to them all, which is the hardest of all, and even that everyone is capable of reaching.
"בפיו ובלבבו ממש מעומקא דלבא באמת לאמיתו בדחילו ורחימו" ("with his mouth and with his heart literally, from the depth of the heart, in absolute truth, with fear and love"). "With his heart literally," and not as was discussed in chapter 17, where the feeling lies only in the hidden recesses of the heart. He can reach the heart itself, from the depth of the heart in absolute truth, and both fear and love.
So the Alter Rebbe is raising a person to the very highest bar: practical fulfillment, speech, Torah study, love of Hashem and fear of Hashem, and all this even though his mind is limited and he has no heart to comprehend. How is such a thing possible? Where is the button one presses so that the feeling awakens? Here we have arrived at the point we have mentioned many times, and from here on we will discuss it at length.
"שהיא אהבה מסותרת שבלב כללות ישראל שהיא ירושה לנו מאבותינו" ("which is the hidden love in the heart of all Israel, which is an inheritance to us from our fathers"). The Alter Rebbe reveals that there is such a thing as a "hidden love in the heart of all Israel." We must distinguish between the kind of love discussed until now and the kind of love discussed from here on:
A love that a person creates: to create love one must think, concentrate and activate the whole system, and that is very hard inner work. Generating a feeling of love is one type of avodah, and generating a feeling of fear is another. The level each person reaches is different: the very same text of contemplation will bring this one to one kind of love and that one to another kind, all according to his given makeup, what he received from his parents and what his day-to-day conduct has made of him. Many factors make a person more refined or coarser, but it is all the result of work.
The hidden love: a love that exists in every single Jew with no work at all. It is not a love a person creates, but a love that is already within him, which entered him the moment he was born a Jew.
[Even the "ahavah rabbah" and "ahavas olam" mentioned in the Shulchan Aruch are loves that come as a result of contemplation, and they have levels and gradations. The hidden love is something else entirely: it is present in a person and he does not have to create it. Even a Jewish child who grew up in a faraway place and knows nothing at all, this love exists in him.]
Where does it come from? Here the Alter Rebbe uses one word that needs to be understood: inheritance. We received it as an inheritance from our fathers, from Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and this inheritance passes on to each and every one of their children.
But these are lofty words that call for explanation, and therefore the Alter Rebbe prefaces: "רק שצריך לבאר ולהקדים תחלה באר היטב" ("but it is first necessary to explain well, by way of introduction"). Four things that are not understood need to be clarified, for it is very hard even to digest the concept of a "hidden love." In this chapter itself he will explain only two of the four, and not even in their listed order:
"שרש אהבה זו" ("the root of this love"): where is it rooted? In what place in the soul is it found? Which part of the soul can we point to and say that it is the vessel for this love?
"ועניינה" ("and its nature"): every love, and in fact every emotion, has an objective: where it strives, in which direction it pushes a person, what its destination is. For one person the objective is to connect to the Creator within his everyday framework, his family, his job, nature and his body; for another the objective is kelos hanefesh, the expiring of the soul, to flee from everything and forget the world entirely. And since this love is found in the heart of all Israel and every Jew received it, and it does not depend on him at all, we must ask: what exactly was given to him? What is the content of the love our holy fathers bequeathed to us? [When a person creates the love himself, each one creates something different; but what is given as an inheritance does not depend on the recipient. And although the intensity can vary from person to person, the destination and the direction are one, like the analogy of someone traveling to Tel Aviv: this one drives a hundred and sixty, that one eighty, and another goes on foot, but the direction is one.]
"ואיך היא ירושה לנו" ("and how it is an inheritance to us"): how can love be inherited?
This third question is especially interesting. By way of analogy: a father and son, Yaakov and Reuven. Yaakov loves his neighbor very much, because the neighbor did him a favor, because he is a pleasant person, and a thousand and one other reasons. A son is born to him, Reuven. Is it a given that Reuven too will love his father's neighbor? And his grandson? And the great-grandson does not even know that such a neighbor exists and has never heard of him.
So too, Avraham Avinu loved the Holy One, blessed be He. How did he arrive at that love? The Midrash relates that Avraham began to wander and to search for who created the world and who formed all this, "How manifold are Your works, Hashem." He studied, he investigated and he understood, and this aroused in him a love of Hashem, until he was even prepared to give up his life for the Creator. Is it a given that his son, his grandson and his great-grandson, and a thousand years and a hundred generations later, will love that same Creator? Avraham loved Him because he learned about Him, while his great-grandson never heard of Him.
Character traits can indeed be inherited, though even that is not a given: if a father is by nature a good man, there is a good chance that his son will tend to be a good man too, for that is a trait. But love for someone specific is not a trait; it is something a person developed on his own. Avraham was not born with a love for the Creator; rather, as emerges from the Torah's accounts, he created it through his own avodah. And if it is the product of work, how can it be that his grandson and great-grandson simply receive it?
Of course one can speak in lofty terms and close the subject: "We said inheritance, we said we received it." But the question is whether there is also an explanation. Inheritance means that something is transferred, that it is property passing from father to son, and how does something the first father toiled for get transferred? That is the third question.
In summary: in this section we identified what is new in chapter 18. Until now it was explained that the road to emotion runs through knowledge, through the talent for contemplation, and through bringing matters down from the mind into the heart, a road accompanied by obstructions and delays, and not within everyone's reach. But from the precision of the word "me'od," "very," in the verse "For the matter is very close to you," we learned that there is no obstruction and no delay at all: even one whose mind is limited in the knowledge of G-d and who has no heart to comprehend the greatness of the blessed Infinite One can observe and perform all the commandments of the Torah, and Torah study which is equal to them all, with his mouth and with his heart literally, from the depth of the heart, in absolute truth, with fear and love. The reason for this is the hidden love in the heart of all Israel, which is an inheritance to us from our fathers. Regarding it, the Alter Rebbe prefaced four matters that require explanation, and of them we have identified the root of this love, its nature, and how it is an inheritance to us from our fathers.
In the next section we will take up the answers to these questions and the understanding of what the hidden love really is.