Let's return to our topic — where we began
In the previous lesson we opened the "door" of the discourse — we saw that this discourse, Hayoshevet Baganim (5711), was delivered by the Rebbe on Shabbat Parshat Beshalach, the 13th of Shevat 5711, a year after the passing of the Rebbe Rayatz. And we said: this is not an ordinary discourse. This is a discourse spoken out of mourning, yet with much hope, on a verse from Shir HaShirim, a verse of longing, of searching, of love. And already then we asked: why specifically this verse? Why specifically now?
Today we enter inside. We open letter alef itself and begin to gather the questions. For as is the way of a chassidic discourse, before one receives the "treasure," one must first sense how puzzling it is. So let us begin to wonder.
The verse itself — who is this "that dwelleth in the gardens"?
The discourse opens with the words:
Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice
This is a verse from Shir HaShirim. And in Shir HaShirim, as we have learned, the lover and the beloved are a metaphor — the Holy One, blessed be He, and Knesset Yisrael. So who is speaking here to whom? The lover, as it were the Holy One, blessed be He, turns to the beloved, to Knesset Yisrael, and says to her: you, that dwellest in the gardens — "the companions hearken to thy voice." There are companions who listen to your voice. Let me hear this voice.
But wait. "In the gardens" — in the plural. Why gardens? Why not a single garden? And another question — who are the "companions"? And why are they "hearkening"? And what is this "voice" that everyone so wants to hear?
The Rebbe did not approach this verse alone. Note what is written immediately after:
And regarding this, my revered father-in-law, the Rebbe, brings (in his discourse that is a continuation of the discourse of the histalkus) two interpretations that seemingly are opposites
That is — the Rebbe brings my revered father-in-law, the Rebbe, his father-in-law, the Rebbe Rayatz, who in his discourse — "in his discourse that is a continuation of the discourse of the histalkus," meaning in the discourse he published before his passing — brought two interpretations of this verse.
And now hear the precise words: "two interpretations that seemingly are opposites." Two interpretations that are, seemingly, opposites of one another. Not two interpretations that gently complement each other — two interpretations that pull in opposing directions. And this is already our first great question: why bring two interpretations that are opposites? And how can it be that both are correct simultaneously?
Hold on to this question. We will return to it.
First Interpretation — "Gardens" is This World
Let us begin with the first interpretation. The Rebbe says:
First interpretation: that "gardens" means this world, and "she who dwells in the gardens" refers to knesset Yisrael scattered in exile, grazing in the gardens of others.
The first interpretation: "gardens" are this world. The gardens — this is here. This is below. And "she who dwells in the gardens" — this is knesset Yisrael (the collective souls of Israel), but not in a time of glory and splendor. Rather — note the words — "scattered in exile." Knesset Yisrael dispersed in exile. The people of Israel scattered across the entire world, "grazing in the gardens of others."
Pause on this expression — "grazing in the gardens of others." What a sad and piercing image. Like a flock sent out to graze, but not in its own field, in the field of others. In a foreign land. In someone else's garden. This is the image the Rebbe chooses for knesset Yisrael in exile — she is not at home. She grazes in the territory of others, drawing spiritual sustenance from soil that is not her own.
Now — ostensibly, according to this reading, this is a bleak picture. Exile, dispersion, "the gardens of others." Where is the good news here? But keep listening, because here comes the turnaround:
Nevertheless, when she sits in synagogues and study halls, behold, companions who are the ministering angels... listen to your voice.
"Nevertheless" — even so, despite everything. Even within the exile, even grazing in the gardens of others — there are moments. When she sits in synagogues and study halls. When a Jew, in the midst of exile, in the midst of dispersion, enters a synagogue and opens his mouth in prayer, enters a study hall and opens his mouth in study — then something happens. Then "companions listen to your voice."
And who are the "companions" in this interpretation? Listen:
Behold, companions who are the ministering angels, who are called companions because there is among them no envy, no hatred, and no rivalry.
The "companions" are the ministering angels (the angels who serve before the Holy One, blessed be He). And the Rebbe immediately gives us the explanation — why specifically "companions"? Why call the angels by the name "companions"?
"Because there is among them no envy, no hatred, and no rivalry." Notice this trio — envy, hatred, rivalry. The three things that destroy every human friendship. Think for a moment about friendships in our world: how many of them crack because of envy? Because of rivalry? Because one succeeded and the other did not? The angels are called "companions" precisely because among them this does not exist. No envy, no hatred, no rivalry. A pure, refined friendship. And such companions — they "listen to your voice." When a Jew prays and studies, the angels themselves incline their ear and listen to his voice.
This is the first interpretation. Keep it in mind. Because now comes the second interpretation — the opposite one.
Second Interpretation — "Gardens" Refers to the Garden of Eden
Now you will hear the complete opposite:
And the second interpretation is that "gardens" refers to the Garden of Eden.
In the first interpretation — "gardens" is this world, below, exile, "gardens of others." And in the second interpretation — "gardens" is the Garden of Eden! Not below — but above. Not the place of scattering — but the place of reward, the place of souls, the very highest place.
Now we understand why the Rebbe said "two interpretations that seemingly are opposites." These are truly opposites. The same word — "gardens" — one reading brings it down to the very bottom of this world, and the second reading raises it up to the Garden of Eden. The same word, two extremes. How can this be?
And within the Garden of Eden itself, the Rebbe makes a precise distinction:
And even though there are within this several levels without end, yet in general they divide into two levels: the lower Garden of Eden and the upper Garden of Eden.
There are in the Garden of Eden "several levels without end" — infinite levels. But broadly, in general, they divide into two: the lower Garden of Eden and the upper Garden of Eden. Two floors, as it were. And note — again the number two returns. Two interpretations, and within the second interpretation — two levels of Garden of Eden. This multiplicity, the "gardens" in the plural, suddenly begins to acquire meaning.
And who are the "companions" here, in the Garden of Eden?
And "companions listen" refers to the souls in the Garden of Eden, who are called companions.
Not angels this time — but the souls in the Garden of Eden. The souls themselves are called "companions." And again — why? Why are the souls called companions? Here the Rebbe opens an entirely new door, and says something astonishing:
As is explained in the parenthetical statement, that sometimes a soul is emanated from a soul, etc.
"Sometimes a soul is emanated from a soul." There is a situation in which one soul — is emanated, drawn forth, comes into being — out of another soul. Two souls that are not merely neighbors, but bound in a connection of source and unfolding — one emerges from the other. This makes them "companions" in the deepest sense.
And now grasp the magnitude of the question that has opened up here. What does it mean that a soul is "emanated" from a soul? What is "emanation" (atzilus) at all? And the Rebbe does not leave this as an enigma — he immediately links us back to another discourse:
And the meaning of the concept of emanation was explained above (in the discourse beginning "Ba'ati LeGani"), that it is the revelation of the concealed.
The concept of emanation (atzilus — drawing forth, extension and revelation), as was already explained — "explained above" — in the discourse Ba'ati LeGani, is "the revelation of the concealed." And here we arrive at the point of the letter alef, and to the line of thought that will lead us onward.
"Revealing the Hidden" — and Why Atzilus Is Specifically a Descent
What is "revealing the hidden"? A simple translation: something that was hidden — concealed, latent, absorbed within its source — and now has become revealed, has come out. The Rebbe gives us the words himself:
that it is the revelation of the hidden, meaning that it is one thing, it is the very same thing itself, except that it descended and became revealed from its concealment
Stop on the words "it is the very same thing itself." Notice — when something is "emanated," it is not that something new is created. It is literally the very same thing that was previously hidden, and now it descended and became revealed. There is no innovation of essence here — there is only an emergence from concealment into revelation.
Think of it this way: a person has a talent — let us say, a talent for music. The talent exists within him, but it is hidden, latent, you do not see it. And then he sits at a piano and plays — and the talent "descended and became revealed from its concealment." Was a new talent created here? No! It is exactly the same talent, "it is the very same thing itself," only that now it is outside, revealed. The Rebbe himself brings precisely this analogy:
And like the hidden powers that afterward descended and became revealed from their concealment
The hidden powers — the abilities that are latent within a person in concealment — "descended and became revealed." Notice this small and enormous word: descended. Because here comes the reversal.
The Reversal — Atzilus Is Sublime, and Yet a Descent
Now grasp the Rebbe's logic, because it is razor-sharp. The world of Atzilus is the highest world, the most sublime, the closest to G-dliness. You would think: surely this is the purpose of everything! Toward it the entire creation is directed! But the Rebbe says — no. And hear why:
For this reason it is impossible to say that the purpose in the creation is for the sake of the world of Atzilus, for since it is the revelation of the hidden, this is a descent
Read this again slowly. "It is impossible to say" — one must not even say — that the purpose of creation is for the sake of the world of Atzilus. Why not? "For since it is the revelation of the hidden — this is a descent." Because Atzilus, by its very definition, is "the revelation of the hidden." And the revelation of the hidden means that there was something above, in concealment, higher — and something descended and became revealed from it. And if it descended — that is a sign that this is a descent, not an ascent!
Return to the analogy of the talent. The talent in concealment, latent in the soul — in a certain sense it is more sublime than the actual playing. The playing is only a limited expression, a descent, of the infinite talent buried within. So if you ask: for the sake of what is all this talent? The answer cannot be "for the sake of the descent into playing." The descent is not the purpose. The purpose must be something else.
And so it is exactly with creation. If the world of Atzilus is "the revelation of the hidden," it is already a descent from something higher than it. And something that is a descent — it is impossible that it be the purpose. So what is? The Rebbe says in one word:
Rather, the purpose is this lowest world
This lowest world. Specifically it. Specifically the lowest place, the most physical, the most distant — it is the purpose of creation. This is the great reversal I promised you: not the most sublime world is the goal, but the lowest world.
And Back to the "Friends"
And now, let us close the circle. This entire discussion about Atzilus and the revelation of the hidden — where did it come from? It came from "a soul emanated from a soul." From the question of why the souls are called "friends." And the Rebbe returns and connects everything back:
And likewise it is regarding the connection of the aforementioned souls, which is a matter of emanation and revelation of the hidden
"And likewise" — exactly the same matter. The connection between the souls, the bond that makes them "friends" — is not merely closeness, mere neighborliness. It is "a matter of emanation and revelation of the hidden." That is: one soul is emanated from another in the same manner — it is "the very same thing itself," only that it descended and became revealed from its source. The second soul is the revelation of the concealment of the first. This is the deep bond that turns two souls into true "friends" — not two separate entities that befriended one another, but one that emerged from the other, the very same essence in two levels.
And with this — section aleph is closed. Notice what the Rebbe has done for us in a single sweep: he opened with a verse of longing, brought two opposing interpretations, revealed two kinds of "friends" — angels and souls, and then, through one small word, "emanated," he opened up the entire subject of emanation, the revelation of the hidden, and laid before us the revolutionary foundation: the purpose of creation is this lowest world.
Let Us Summarize — and What Remains Open Before Us
So what have we accumulated in hand by the end of section aleph?
We learned that Atzilus is "the revelation of the hidden" — the very same thing that descended and became revealed from the place where it was hidden. We learned that precisely because of this, Atzilus is a descent, and therefore it cannot be the purpose. And we learned the sharp conclusion: "the purpose is this lowest world" — not the sublime world, but specifically the lowest one. And we saw how all this illuminates back the connection between the souls — "a soul emanated from a soul" — and makes them "friends."
Notice what remains open, and in a big way. The Rebbe threw us a bomb and did not dismantle it: why specifically is this lowest world the purpose? If Atzilus is so sublime, what is there in the lowest world, the physical, the dark, that is not in Atzilus? Why does the Holy One descend all the way down, and precisely there — and not above — lies the entire intent?
This is the great question that will open section beis. Remember it. In the next lesson we will begin to descend with it — to the lowest.