In the previous section we learned that chochmah is essentially a matter of seeing. When a person sees something, he takes in something that is beyond his own ability, beyond his grasp and beyond his kelim (his vessels); the thing reveals itself to him. Binah, by contrast, is the internalizing of that thing. Now we will go deeper into the power of chochmah in the soul, and into the way the pesi, the simple person, approaches emunah.
Where in the soul is there a faculty capable of absorbing Elokus?
Elokus is above intellect. Whatever a person understands is by definition limited, while Elokus is without limit. How, then, can a limited person take in the unlimited? Hashem gave him the power of chochmah in the soul, whose uniqueness is precisely this: it absorbs things that are above comprehension and beyond the grasp of limited intellect. The chochmah of the soul is therefore the place where Elokus rests within a person.
True, there is no intellectual grasp of the Holy One, blessed be He. But there is a grasp that does not come from the intellect: a recognition, and this is of the nature of emunah. A Jew's faith in the Creator is stronger than his understanding, for understanding can be refuted, while emunah has a force greater than understanding. It is an absorbing that does not come from a person's intellect, his vessels or his talents, but an absorbing of Elokus itself. Hashem gave a person a faculty that on the one hand is one of the ten powers of the soul, and yet has within it the capacity to take in what lies entirely outside of it.
One cannot explain what emunah is, but one can feel it. To grasp it with binah is beyond a person; with chochmah it is possible. And that is exactly the power of chochmah: to absorb something that is not within the categories of intellect at all, but stronger than it and higher than it, the source of intellect. Everything a person understands is no more than small, light crumbs of what shines in him at the level of chochmah, which is far loftier.
In the Alter Rebbe's words: "הנה החכמה היא מקור השכל וההבנה, והיא למעלה מן הבינה שהוא הבנת השכל והשגתו" ("Chochmah is the source of intellect and understanding, and it is above binah, which is the intellect's understanding and comprehension"). Notice that he does not say chochmah is intellect; he says it is the source of intellect. "והחכמה היא למעלה מההבנה ומההשגה" ("and chochmah is above understanding and comprehension"), above thought, "והיא מקור להם" ("and it is their source"). The power of chochmah is loftier than the absorbing that happens through understanding, for understanding is something small and bounded.
"וזהו לשון חכמה - כח מ"ה" ("and this is the meaning of the word chochmah: koach mah"). Why binah is called binah is obvious: it is named for havanah, understanding. But why is chochmah called by this name? The Alter Rebbe explains that "chochmah" is two words: "koach mah," a joining of two opposites:
"Koach," a power: it is one of the powers of the soul.
"Mah": as in Moshe Rabbeinu's expression of his bittul to Elokus, "ונחנו מה" ("and what are we"). "Mah" is also a word of question, like a flash of insight that appears and instantly vanishes and cannot be held. "שהוא מה שאינו מושג ומובן" ("which is that which is not comprehended or understood").
This is the part of the soul that absorbs things which cannot be comprehended or understood, and not because this person happens to be simple or on a low level, but because there is no person in the world who can understand Elokus, which is above understanding. Yet to absorb it is possible, through chochmah. In the words of the Tanya: "ואינו נתפס בהשגה עדיין, ולכן מתלבש בה אור אין סוף ברוך הוא דלית מחשבה תפיסא ביה כלל" ("and it is not yet grasped in comprehension, and therefore the Or Ein Sof, of whom no thought can grasp Him at all, clothes itself in it"). No thought can take hold of Him, but through the power of chochmah it is possible.
In the analogy brought earlier, of a person sitting and learning when suddenly a flash of insight strikes him, it is worth noticing when it falls: precisely when he is sitting confused, feeling that he no longer understands a thing. Why doesn't it come in the middle of his learning? Because as long as he is full of his own ego, his own understanding and his own talents, he is not a vessel for the Ein Sof. The moment he says, "I know nothing, I have no idea what is going on here," he loses himself and makes himself into an ayin, a nothing, and then he becomes a vessel to receive the Ein Sof. That is the answer to how one reaches this level. (This does not mean a person should walk around confused all the time, but that from time to time he must stand in bittul in order to receive.)
We said that the chochmah of the soul is the flash point of the intellect, as was also mentioned in chapter three of Tanya. Here it should be noted that chassidus explains that within chochmah, which is "koach mah," there are two levels:
The koach within chochmah: the flash, the "lightning that flashes," the power in the soul that originates every new insight.
The mah within chochmah: the very highest point of the neshamah, called in maamarei chassidus the yechida of the soul.
Here in Tanya the intent is mainly the mah of chochmah: not chochmah as a flash of some intellectual matter, but the yechida of the soul, from whose power comes the force of mesirus nefesh, that a Jew is willing and able to give up his life for Hashem. That is the chochmah of the soul being spoken of here, even though the Alter Rebbe uses the same word, "chochmah."
"ולכן כל ישראל, אפילו הנשים ועמי הארץ, הם מאמינים בה'" ("and therefore all of Israel, even the women and the simple folk, believe in Hashem"). Why does this need to be emphasized? The Alter Rebbe is teaching us that a lack of intellectual depth is no deficiency whatsoever in emunah; the one is not a function of the other. On the contrary, it is a fact that specifically one who lacks intellectual depth may have faith of the very greatest strength. (And in Hayom Yom it is brought that one should not follow the intellect, for intellect is limited and measured, and when a person insists on investigating and understanding everything, it gets in the way of his believing.)
And the reason: "שהאמונה היא למעלה מן הדעת וההשגה" ("for emunah is above knowledge and comprehension"). Emunah is not a function of knowledge, learning, understanding and depth. Emunah is above intellect. Emunah is seeing; emunah is the chochmah of the soul.
"כי פתי יאמין לכל דבר וערום יבין גו'" ("for the simpleton believes everything, and the clever one understands"). On the surface this verse reads as describing a shortcoming: the clever one, the man of intellect, understands, while the pesi, who cannot understand, simply believes. But there is a deeper reading of the verse, and it is the reverse: when it comes to matters that are above intellect, matters of Elokus, it is specifically the pesi who is closer, while for the clever one, who insists on understanding everything, it is difficult.
So about whom is it said, "the simpleton believes everything"? About Moshe Rabbeinu. At the burning bush, at the first divine revelation he received, Moshe Rabbeinu approached as a pesi, even though he was wiser than any man, because he understood that when it comes to Elokus the intellect is not the vessel. There is no insult in this; quite the opposite, as the Tanya says: "ולגבי הקב"ה, שהוא למעלה מן השכל והדעת ולית מחשבה תפיסא ביה כלל, הכל כפתיים אצלו יתברך" ("and in relation to the Holy One, blessed be He, who is above intellect and knowledge and whom no thought can grasp at all, all are like simpletons before Him"). In matters of the finite, one person understands more and another less, and there simpleness is a deficiency. But in relation to Elokus every person is a pesi, and there simpleness is an advantage. And whoever thinks he understands still has a way to go before he understands that he does not understand.
Something of this is told about two Jews who came in for yechidus to one of the Rebbes. First a poor, simple Jew went in and stayed only a short while; after him the wealthy man went in and stayed a long time. The simple Jew wondered why so much time had been given specifically to the rich man. The Rebbe answered him: you grasp the point immediately, and I don't need a long time to explain to you that you are poor and have nothing. But he walks in full of himself, and it takes a long time to bring him to that same point. The poor man knows right away that he has nothing; he comes in complete bittul and wants only to absorb. One who approaches as a pesi is a greater vessel for Elokus.
The Alter Rebbe then brings a verse from Tehillim (chapter 73) which has two interpretations: "דכתיב ואני בער ולא אדע בהמות הייתי עמך, ואני תמיד עמך וגו'" ("as it is written: I was boorish and did not know, I was like a beast with You, yet I am always with You"), and the verse continues, "You held my right hand":
The plain meaning: even though I am boorish and ignorant and like an animal that understands nothing, nevertheless I am always with You, and it does not get in the way.
The Tanya's reading: the opposite. David HaMelech is saying that precisely because "I was boorish and did not know, I was like a beast," therefore "I am always with You." One who approaches Elokus out of the knowledge that he knows nothing is the one most fit to absorb Elokus. In his words: "כלומר שבזה שאני בער ובהמות אני תמיד עמך" ("that is to say, it is by being boorish and beastlike that I am always with You").
When it comes to matters of understanding, a person should use his talents. But when it comes to Elokus and emunah, he should not approach as a know-it-all, because that will get in his way. Let him come as a pesi who does not understand and does not know, as one who is nothing at all, and then he will be able to absorb and draw close. Accordingly, simple folk need not feel deficient: even David HaMelech says of himself, "I was boorish and did not know, I was like a beast," and that is his great distinction: "yet I am always with You."
Even so, the conclusion is not that there is no need to understand. The intellect is working all the time, and if a person does not use it to understand Elokus, Torah and mitzvos, he will end up understanding the opposite, and that will interfere with his emunah. A person must understand with his intellect as much as he possibly can and learn without limit, as long as he remembers that everything he learns and knows is, relative to Elokus, nothing. The intellect becomes an obstacle only when it is turned into an avodah zarah, when it becomes the ultimate peak beyond which there is nothing. But when a person knows that his intellect is simply one of his tools, that he has hands, he has feet, and he also has a brain, it is not an obstacle at all. Torah requires understanding and requires intellect; it is only that the vessel for receiving Elokus is above the intellect.
Since it is the approach of bittul that brings a person close, "ולכן אפילו קל שבקלים ופושעי ישראל מוסרים נפשם על קדושת ה' על הרוב" ("and therefore even the lightest of the light and the transgressors of Israel give up their lives for the sanctity of Hashem, as a rule"). That is, generally speaking: a person who is among the lightest of the light and the transgressors of Israel, when he reaches the moment of mesirus nefesh, gives up his life and dies al kiddush Hashem.
Like the well-known story of "the holy thief," whose grave is found in one of the towns in Poland with those words written on it. This Jew was among the lightest of the light and made his living from stealing. One day he decided to steal the silver and gold statues from the church. When they caught him they told him his crime was double: not only was he a thief, he had stolen from the church and thereby desecrated their holy objects, and for that a severe punishment was due. In court the judge offered him a deal: if he converted, he would be treated as an ordinary thief and his sentence would be lightened; if not, he would be burned. The thief answered, "That, never. I will die al kiddush Hashem." They burned him and he died al kiddush Hashem, and in the end they managed to bring his body to a Jewish burial. He was a thief, the lightest of the light, but at the moment of truth the point of Yiddishkeit in him was revealed.
And like the famous story in the Gemara of Rabbi Elazar ben Durdaya, who left no sin untransgressed and no grave deed undone. When he heard from that woman that Elazar ben Durdaya could no longer return in teshuvah, the words touched the point that he was lost, and he said: "I am lost? Impossible." He asked the heavens and the earth, the mountains and the winds of the world to plead for mercy on his behalf, and finally said, "The matter depends on nothing but me," and did teshuvah until his soul departed, and he was called "Rabbi" Elazar ben Durdaya. We see that even the lightest of the light had not lost the chochmah of his soul and had not lost his emunah.
The Alter Rebbe continues: "וסובלים עינויים קשים שלא לכפור בה' אחד, ואף אם הם בורים ועמי הארץ ואין יודעים גדולת ה', וגם במעט שיודעים אין מתבוננים כלל, ואין מוסרים נפשם מחמת דעת והתבוננות בה' כלל, אלא בלי שום דעת והתבוננות, רק כאילו הוא דבר שאי אפשר כלל לכפור בה' אחד, ובלי שום טעם וטענה ומענה כלל" ("and they endure harsh tortures rather than deny the one God, even if they are ignorant and simple and do not know the greatness of Hashem, and even the little they do know they do not contemplate at all, and they do not give up their lives out of any knowledge or contemplation of Hashem whatsoever, but with no knowledge or contemplation at all, simply as though it were utterly impossible to deny the one God, and without any reason, argument or answer at all"). He does not give his life because he worked out a calculation and arrived at the conclusion that one must give one's life; for him it never rises to the level of a consideration at all. Had it been a matter of reasoning, there would be room for an argument of "maybe not" and an answer of "maybe yes." But since there is no reasoning here, there is no argument and no answer, only an axiom that it simply could not be otherwise.
Where does such mesirus nefesh come from in someone who never learned and never kept anything his whole life? From the chochmah of the soul, which is the vessel for Elokus. Every descendant of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and likewise everyone who converts according to halachah and becomes a child of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, receives this chochmah of the soul. (The soul itself can be raised to a higher level "according to his deeds," as we learned in the previous section, but the chochmah of the soul needs no improving or upgrading. It is Elokus at the peak of its intensity shining within his soul, the level of yechida.)
And the Alter Rebbe concludes: "והיינו משום שה' אחד מאיר ומחיה כל הנפש על ידי התלבשותו בבחינת חכמה שבה, שהיא למעלה מן הדעת והשכל המושג ומובן" ("and this is because the one God illuminates and gives life to the entire soul through His clothing Himself in the aspect of chochmah within it, which is above knowledge and above intellect that is comprehended and understood"), as he mentioned earlier, "chochmah gives life to those who possess it." Any intellect that is comprehended and understood belongs to the realm of the finite, while the chochmah of the soul is incomparably higher.
In summary: in this section we learned that the power of chochmah in the soul, which is "koach mah," that which is not comprehended or understood, is the place where Elokus rests in the soul, and in it the Or Ein Sof, of whom "no thought can grasp Him at all," clothes itself. Chochmah is the source of intellect and above binah, and therefore it is specifically bittul and the feeling of "I do not know" that form the vessel to receive it. From here it follows that emunah does not depend on intellectual depth: "all of Israel, even the women and the simple folk, believe in Hashem," and it is precisely the one who approaches as a pesi who is the great vessel for Elokus, like Moshe Rabbeinu at the burning bush and like David HaMelech saying, "I was boorish and did not know, I was like a beast with You." From here too comes the mesirus nefesh of the lightest of the light, without any reason, argument or answer, flowing from the chochmah of the soul, the yechida. With this, the first two questions have been answered: the root of this love is the chochmah of the soul, and it is an inheritance to us from our forefathers, since our forefathers were themselves the divine chariot.
In the next section we will take up the two remaining questions: what is the nature of this love and what is it asking for, and what does a person yearn for when this emunah is revealed in him.