מוּדַעַת זֹאת מַה שֶּׁאָמְרוּ רז״ל: כָּל הָרָגִיל לָבֹא לְבֵית הַכְּנֶסֶת וְיוֹם אֶחָד לֹא בָּא, הקב"ה שׁוֹאֵל עָלָיו

The Sages' statement is well known: Whoever is accustomed to coming to the synagogue, and one day he does not come, the Holy One, blessed be He, asks about him, When a person regularly attends synagogue daily, and one day he does not attend, God senses this person's absence. The implication is that when a person does come to the synagogue every day, God senses his coming. Although habituation may dull a person's feeling of the holiness of the synagogue, and the supernal significance of his going there, God does sense it. The world grows habituated, the angel grows habituated, but God never grows habituated and never grows weary. Similarly, should a person fail to perform a mitzva, even without caring about it anymore, God is aware, and He Himself inquires after that person.

שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״מִי בָכֶם יְרֵא ה׳ וכו׳״ (ישעיה נ,י) וְכֵן בְּכָל הַמִּצְוֹת וּבִפְרָט מִצְוַת הַצְּדָקָה שֶׁשְּׁקוּלָה כְּנֶגֶד כָּל הַמִּצְוֹת הֲגַם שֶׁהִיא בְּלִי נֶדֶר חַס וְשָׁלוֹם

as it is stated: "Who among you fears the Lord..." (Isa. 50:10). The same applies to all the mitzvot, especially the mitzva of charity, which is equivalent to all the other mitzvot, although it should be performed without a vow, God forbid. The verse states, "Who among you fears the Lord, hears the voice of His servant, who walked in darkness and there was no light for him…" (Isa. 50:10). Our Sages interpret this to mean that a person who fails to attend the synagogue one day, walks in darkness. He did not come to the synagogue, he did not join this mitzva act, because he was in a state of "darkness," meaning, distress, confusion, and anguish. Had he overcome his obstacles and went to the synagogue, despite his feeling no need and desire to do so but only because he is accustomed to doing so every day, he would have seen light there (Berakhot 6b; see the commentators). Every mitzva is comparable to coming to the synagogue, to a holy place. Every mitzva is an encounter. It is where a person is together with God. Therefore, when a person does not perform a mitzva that he has been accustomed to performing, it is as though he has not come to the meeting, and God inquires after him. All of the mitzvot are like charity that God gives to us and the world. Every mitzva stems from God's infinite divine being, that lacks nothing. His giving of the mitzvot to imperfect man and the world to connect with us, can be defined as charity and an outright gift. Likkutei Amarim (chap. 37) points out that the Jerusalem Talmud simply calls charity "the mitzva." There he emphasizes in the name of the Sages (Bava Batra 9a), that the purpose of the mitzvot is to refine the world and elevate the holy parts of it. In this, the mitzva of charity has no equal. When a person gives charity, he raises sparks more than he does by performing any other mitzva. When he gives away money that he would otherwise have spent on his material needs, it is as though he is giving away his animal soul. In addition, the mitzva of charity is not limited to any specific object with which one performs the charity. Everything that one gives to charity is elevated. Moreover, everything connected to what a person gives—directly or indirectly, from all parts of the world and parts of the soul and life that he invested to acquire that contribution— is elevated. All of that rises when he gives charity. The halakha states that when a person performs a good deed a number of times, it is as though he has vowed to continue doing so. Therefore, it is recommended that, to obviate such an obligation, he must state explicitly in advance that he will engage in that act "without a vow." That is what the author of the Tanya is referring to here. When this person who intends to gives charity consistently at set times states explicitly that he will do so "without a vow," he has no formal obligation to continue doing so. (He makes that stipulation so that, should he need to cease that activity, he will not be guilty of violating a vow.)

אַף עַל פִּי כֵן, כָּל הַחַיִל אֲשֶׁר נָגַע יִרְאַת ה׳ בְּלִבָּם לֹא יָאָתָה לְנַפְשָׁם הָאֱלוֹקִית לָתֵת מִגְרָעוֹת בַּקֹּדֶשׁ

Nevertheless, it is unbecoming for the divine soul of any of the host whose heart has been touched by the fear of God to give a reduced amount of the holy, The author of the Tanya turns here to his hasidim, "the host whose heart has been touched by the fear of God," of whom more is expected than of anyone else. That is not to say that hasidim are special people, but that the hasidic movement in general sets the bar at a higher level than the basic requirements of the Torah. The very minimum that is expected of every hasid is to be "the host whose heart has been touched by the fear of God." They are the men conscripted to a purpose beyond their personal lives, who are even obligated, if necessary, to give their lives for that purpose. The hasid is obligated to act not on behalf of himself and his family but on behalf of the entire people of Israel, and not only due to a formal obligation to follow the Shulḥan Arukh but to abide by the entire breadth of the Torah beyond fixed obligations. As the epistle states, the fear of God has touched their heart. When the fear of God touches a hasid's heart, when it becomes a part of who he is, he begins his journey. It is from this point that the Rebbe tells him – in this epistle and in general – to go forward. It is not fitting for a person's divine soul, which this epistle is addressing, to give less charity than he has been used to doing, to diminish and damage the holy building that already exists. What the author of the Tanya expects of the hasid is not that he wage a new battle, that he scale a new mountain, but rather, only that he guard the already existing portion of holiness from being damaged. He should do so not in a strident, confrontational way, but in a way that is comparable to surfing a wave. As the surfer rides a wave of holiness down from the crest, he draws holiness downward. Nothing less than that is expected of him. When a person gives charity, he draws forth holiness, the light of the infinite one, to Malkhut, which "has nothing of its own." Therefore, when a person gives charity repeatedly, that is not merely a pulse of holiness. It is a stream of holiness, a reality and structure of holiness. And if he does not give charity one time, he damages and diminishes that holy reality.

מֵאֲשֶׁר כְּבָר הוּרְגְּלוּ מִדֵּי שָׁנָה לְהַפְרִישׁ מִמְּאוֹדָם

than that which they have become accustomed to set aside on a yearly basis from their capital (me'odam ). The Hebrew word me'odam simply means "their capital." As the verse states, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your capital (me'odekha )." The Mishna explains that me'odekha means "with all your money" (Berakhot 9:5). But a number of hasidic texts understand me'odekha as without boundary, something that goes beyond the maximum. Although these two explanations appear to contradict each other, both are true. When a person donates money that is not from his surplus of financial cushion, but rather from what he would otherwise have used for his basic needs, he is giving all his money, and he is going beyond the maximum. This can be seen as even greater than giving up one's life, because the latter is a one-time act and furthermore, at the moment of self-sacrifice, a person can feel the meaning in it. In contrast, when a person gives charity on the level of "with all your money" consistently every day, irrespective of his mood, that is with all of his unbounded me'od.

לְהַחֲיוֹת רוּחַ שְׁפָלִים וְנִדְכָּאִים, דְּלֵית לְהוֹן מִגַּרְמֵיהוֹן הִיא

The purpose of charity is to revive the spirit of the humble and the downtrodden, who have nothing of their own. The Malkhut corresponds to "the fallen booth of David...," to raise and uplift..., to be united in one..., A person is poor in the sense that he is incapable of paying for what he receives, whether that is physical or spiritual. Charity to such a person is therefore the deepest sort of free gift. In that sense, a person who gives charity is similar to God Himself, whose whole influence upon existence is ultimately an undeserved gift to Malkhut, which "has nothing of own," and to the "children of Malkhut," the poor. During the time of exile, Malkhut corresponds to the fallen booth of David (Amos 9:11.) The booth of David is the Malkhut, the sovereignty, of David as it was in its time and, even more so, as it will be in the future redemption. It is synonymous with the revelation of the sovereignty of God in all worlds. The "booth" signifies that at that time, it will be like a crown that surrounds all existence. During the time of exile, however, it is "the fallen booth of David." The crown and glory of that sovereignty have fallen to the kelippa and to exile. That is exile in the broadest sense: the fall of the holy sparks, darkness and ruin, concealment of the Divine that provides life to an existence that does not recognize it. At this time of exile, the principal way of serving God is by giving charity, which shines light into the darkness and into the kelippot even when we do not see the fallen holiness, even when we do not receive even the slightest reflection of light. That is the essence of the service of charity: giving to a person who has nothing, and who seemingly, gives nothing back. The author of the Tanya relates the words "to raise and uplift" to the verse that states, "On that day, I will raise the fallen booth of David." The ultimate level of the service of charity is to elevate the fallen holiness. At that time there will be a revelation of oneness between every Jew. That oneness will then unite with the oneness above, and all will be enveloped in a single holiness: "united in one."

וְהַכֹּל לְפִי רוֹב הַמַּעֲשֶׂה וכו׳ וּלְפִי הַחֶשְׁבּוֹן

and everything is in accordance with the abundance of actions..., and in accordance with the sum. As the author of the Tanya explained in epistle 21, the service of charity is measured not only by the amount that a person gives (providing practical benefit to the recipient) but also by the number of times that he gives (the spiritual benefit created by the act of giving). This applies not only to the giver but to the recipient as well because, beyond the physicality that he receives, he becomes a part of the mitzva of charity. It is impossible for the giver to give if there is no one to receive. In all giving, there is receiving, which, on a deeper level, is also giving, because only with a recipient can the giver give. That is certainly the case if the recipient shares the intent of the mitzva of charity: when he does not think that the charity is his by right, but rather, recognizes that he is receiving an outright gift from God's supernal lovingkindness, and that the giver is the instrument used to transfer that to him. A recipient with that awareness is a full partner in the reward of the mitzva and in "the abundance of actions." There is "the abundance of actions," and then there is the sum – that is, the outcome of all of the actions, which is important as well.

כְּמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: כָּל פְּרוּטָה וּפְרוּטָה מִצְטָרֶפֶת לְחֶשְׁבּוֹן גָּדוֹל וכו׳ (בבא בתרא ט,ב) עַל דֶּרֶךְ מַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: אֵימָתַי גָּדוֹל הֲוָיָ״ה? כְּשֶׁהוּא בְּעִיר אֱלֹהֵינוּ וכו׳

As the Rabbis stated: Each and every peruta that one gives combines to form a great sum – (Bava Batra 9b), in the manner of the Rabbis' statement: When is Havaya great? When He is in the city of our God... Every act of giving charity (and giving even a single peruta – a coin of trifling value) is important in itself. Yet there is also meaning in the accumulation of all one's acts of giving; they combine into a great sum. But why should that be important? This is a mitzva, drawn down literally from the Ein Sof, and in that context, what difference does it make whether a person has donated two perutot or three, a small sum or a large sum? But it certainly does make a difference for the poor person, and therefore it makes a difference from the perspective of the giver and from the aspect of the absolute value and meaning of the mitzva. The mitzva of giving charity is not an act that is performed abstractly between a person's soul and God. It is performed in this world, and this world has something to say about its value. There is an even more profound explanation of the Sages' statement, "When is Havaya great? When He is in the city of our God...." When discussing the Divine, the Ein Sof, how is it possible to speak of a sum? A sum involves numbers, and what meaning does any number, whether large or small, have in relation to the infinite? To explain this, the epistle quotes the Zohar's statement, "When is Havaya great?" When is there meaning to great and small? "When He is in the city of our God." The "city of our God" alludes to Malkhut as the divine speech. Sefer Yetzira states that the letters are called "stones" and words are called "houses." By extension, statements are called a "city." Therefore, God's greatness is revealed "in the city of our God," in His Divine speech. That is where the great divine meaning is revealed. Within His letters and words, the multitude of vessels and levels, there is meaning to the statement that God is great. This does not refer to God's essential greatness, but rather, to the "city," to the revelation of His greatness to those within it.

הִיא בְּחִינַת וּמְקוֹם הַחֶשְׁבּוֹן כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: "עֵינַיִךְ בְּרֵכוֹת בְּחֶשְׁבּוֹן" (שיר השירים ז,ה)

The city of our God is the aspect and place of the sum [ḥeshbon ], as it is written: "Your eyes are pools in Ḥeshbon" (Song 7:5). The "city of our God" refers to Malkhut of Atzilut. Malkhut and everything that is drawn down from it – the letters, the worlds that are created on all their levels and with all their details – constitutes a place where the divine life force in it is within vessels that are so detached and finite that we do not see infinitude and Divinity but only disconnected, ambiguous sparks. In such a place, only via a sum, only when we calculate, combine and arrange all of these factors, do we see Godliness. Therefore, this place is called "the place of the sum." The verse states, "Your eyes are pools in Ḥeshbon." The eyes are Ḥokhma, and the light of the Ein Sof that is revealed in Ḥokhma descends and gathers in the pool, which is the "place of the sum," that being Malkhut. That is to say, the light of the Ein Sof that descends and is drawn down comes to the place of the sum. There it does not descend any further but is gathered together and consolidated. And that is "the sum of the world," from which point it then ascends. Perhaps this verse hints as well to what occurs next: the eyes, which are Ḥokhma, look at the sum, which is Malkhut, like water in a pool that reflects everything. The eyes are then aroused from above, "as water reflects a face to the face, so does the heart of a person to a person" (Prov. 27:19).

וְהַמְכוּוָּן כַּנּוֹדַע כִּי בְּאִתְעָרוּתָא דִּלְתַתָּא

The intention of these assertions as is known, is that by an awakening from below, The author of the Tanya expands upon the intention of that which has been said about the mitzva of charity, of kindness in its unbounded essence, that a person performs here below in a world of calculated amounts. According to that which is known generally and explained in other epistles that discuss charity. The charity that a person does below engenders an arousal from below that impacts the heavenly spheres. Like a mirror in which someone above sees himself, and is aroused, as it were, to feel and act the same way towards those below: to the worlds in general, and in particular, to the person who awakened him above from below.

הַמְשָׁכַת חַיִּים חֵן וָחֶסֶד בְּמַעֲשֵׂה הַצְּדָקָה בִּרְצוֹן הַטּוֹב וְסֵבֶר פָּנִים יָפוֹת

which is the drawing down of life, grace, and kindness through an act of charity performed with good will and a pleasant countenance, When a person gives charity, he draws forth life and undeserved, unlimited kindness to a needy person. That is particularly so when he gives charity with a good will and a pleasant countenance. Giving charity in this way is not only preferable and recommended, but an integral part of the mitzva, and indeed halakhically mandated. A pleasant countenance is more than the person's thoughts and feelings as he performs this mitzva. It is itself a spiritual gift, whose importance is no less than that of the physical gift. In particular, in regard to charity as an arousal from below to above, the intention and the spiritual giving are especially important, because those are what rise up through the worlds.

אִתְעָרוּתָא דִּלְעֵילָּא: ״יָאֵר הֲוָיָ״ה פָּנָיו" (במדבר ו,כה)

one engenders an awakening from above: "The Lord shall shine His countenance" (Num. 6:25). The arousal from below of giving charity with a pleasant countenance elicits from above the illumination of the countenance of God to us. This benediction is the second of the three priestly blessings of the kohanim. The overall power of these blessings is the illumination of the divine countenance and special Godly outpouring of goodness to us with a good will and a pleasant countenance. A number of Hasidic teachings explain that this is precisely what the priestly blessings do: they shine the light of God's inner essence upon us. This illumination does not go through all of the stages of the order of progression, which have a "face" and a "backside," and therefore does not incur externality and concealment of its inner dimension. Rather, it remains an illumination of the divine countenance that shines its inner essence directly from the highest place to the lowest place. It is an illumination that does take into account whether or not we deserve its divine light. It is an unconditional illumination that does not depend on anything in return, just like the giving of charity here below.

הוּא הֶאָרַת וְהַמְשָׁכַת חֵן וָחֶסֶד וְרָצוֹן עֶלְיוֹן מֵחַיֵּי הַחַיִּים אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא, אֲשֶׁר לִגְדוּלָּתוֹ אֵין חֵקֶר וְהַשָּׂגָה כְּלָל

This is the illumination and drawing down of grace, kindness, and supernal will from the infinite source of life, Ein Sof , blessed be He, whose greatness cannot be fathomed or comprehended at all, This flow comes from so high that it cannot by any means be appraised and measured in relation to anything that occurs below. Therefore, it cannot be considered as payment and reward for anything that is done below, but is to be considered an illumination of outright kindness. The level from which this influence comes is called "the supernal will," which is the intrinsic will that expresses the divine essence that transcends all divine manifestations. This is not as we understand the will as it relates to lower existence and is revealed in it, but as it is in itself. This supernal will is the life of life: the life force that exists in all worlds, life that has no end and intrinsically cannot be comprehended. This powerful and inner illumination is aroused above by means of the act of charity that is performed below.

אֶל בְּחִינַת ״מַלְכוּתְךָ מַלְכוּת כָּל עוֹלָמִים״ (תהלים קמה,יג)

to the aspect of "Your kingship is the kingship of all the worlds" (Ps. 145:13), This giving reaches the lowest place, which is Malkhut, which flows down and maintains all of the worlds. The phrase "Your kingship is the kingship of all worlds" describes the divine life force that descends to the lowest level at the greatest distance from holiness. The level of Malkhut is the culmination of the divine revelation. After the descent of the supernal will to the intellect and the supernal attributes – through which His will can be understood and conceptualized – an actually existent entity emerges: that is to say, Malkhut. This is not God's intellect nor His love, but their outcome that is projected from them upon the opaque screen that separates Atzilut from the world. (That is to say, Malkhut of Atzilut receives all of the supernal lights that contain the supernal will, but it does not transfer them onwards as they are intrinsically.) Furthermore, the light of "Your kingship" (Malkhut of Atzilut ) is repeatedly cast further onward in a constricted form onto "the kingship of all worlds" – meaning, onto Malkhut of every world, until it constitutes the reality of every person's daily life, in all of its details.

עַלְמָא דְּאִתְגַּלְיָא, הַמְחַיֶּה כָּל הַבְּרוּאִים שֶׁבְּכָל הַהֵיכָלוֹת עֶלְיוֹנִים וְתַחְתּוֹנִים

the revealed world, which sustains all created beings that are in all the sanctums, both higher and lower, This level of "Your kingship is the kingship of all worlds" is the divine illumination and life force that is called the "revealed world" and the light that "fills all worlds." It is the divine light not as it is in essence, but as it is constricted and becomes compatible with the parameters and concepts of every world, high and low, to give it life according to those parameters. Therefore, it is also the divine illumination that is revealed to lower beings (the "revealed world"): that which every creature and every world can comprehend and relate to as it enters the boundaries and concepts relevant to them. Beyond it, is what is concealed, that which "surrounds all worlds."

שֶׁהֵן בִּבְחִינַת מִסְפָּר וְחֶשְׁבּוֹן כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״אֶלֶף אַלְפִים יְשַׁמְּשׁוּנֵּיהּ״ (דניאל ז,י)

which are on the level of numbers and sum, as it is written: "Thousands upon thousands serve Him" (Dan. 7:10), The revealed worlds and what they contain are within the dimension of numbers and amount. Higher than that, in the hidden worlds, number and amount do not exist. Therefore, even if we speak of that higher realm as a "world," it is a world without measurements, a world that cannot be comprehended or even thought about. In contrast, the revealed worlds, which are essentially the worlds within Malkhut on all levels, necessarily have number and amount that distinguish them from the Ein Sof. This can be compared to the difference between a person's speech on the one hand and his feelings or understanding on the other. The powers of a person's soul – his intellect and emotional attributes - are hidden: not only from others but even from himself, because fundamentally a person is only aware of what is clothed in the letters of his thought, of that which is quantifiable by number and amount, since only that can be revealed. The "thousands upon thousands" of angels in the supernal worlds have a number: thousands upon thousands. And if there is number in the upper worlds, which are the root and source of everything that occurs in the lower worlds, how much more so is there number in the lower worlds.

וְזֶהוּ

and this is "a great sum." Here the author of the Tanya returns to the topic of charity, as was explained earlier. "Great sum" alludes to the light that "surrounds all worlds." Although this infinite divine light, in and of itself, is beyond the parameters of all worlds, it relates to the worlds. "Great" alludes to God. When is He considered "great"? When He is "in the city of our God": that is, in the sum of the letters, of the structures, of this world. That is to say, when a person gives charity, God Himself, the infinite one, is revealed. through finite amounts. But how is it possible for there to be a "great sum," a revelation of everything infinite, within the finite? Not even all the angels at the heights of the upper world could accomplish that! The answer is as follows.

שֶׁעַל יְדֵי רוֹב מַעֲשֵׂה הַצְּדָקָה שָׁלוֹם כִּי פֵּירוּשׁ שָׁלוֹם הוּא דָּבָר הַמְחַבֵּר וּמְתַוֵּוךְ ב׳ קְצָווֹת הֲפָכִיִּים

For by means of the abundance of the act of charity there is peace, because "peace" means something that connects and mediates between two opposite extremes. As a result of a person's many uninterrupted acts of charity, the perutot combine into a "great sum." In a sense, when a person gives charity, he becomes like God Himself, higher than all of the revealed worlds. Everything that he gives to the needy person is in the category of outright kindness to a person who is lacking. However, this is the main emphasis of this epistle, giving once or even a few times does not suffice if there is a subsequent interruption. That interruption creates a wall, at which point the giving is no longer infinite, because there is a boundary to the sum and it is no longer "great." Only by means of "the abundance of the act" does the amount become "a great sum." This great amount is not the total number of perutot but their combining with each other in a vastness beyond number. And that can occur only when there is no interruption between one peruta and the next, between one act of giving and the next. Only then is the giving not grasped by finitude, but rather, summons the Ein Sof beyond worlds to make "peace" between the finite entities in the worlds. The concept of "peace," on all levels and in all senses, is a bonding of factors that are distant and opposite from each other, like adversaries that could not otherwise be together in the same place, since they act in opposition to one another. Peace is the arena that puts them together, and makes it so that they are no longer opposites.

שֶׁהֵן קְצֵה הַשָּׁמַיִם לְעֵילָּא, בְּחִינַת ״וְלִגְדוּלָּתוֹ אֵין חֵקֶר״ (תהלים קמה,ג) וּקְצֵה הַשָּׁמַיִם לְתַתָּא, הַמִּתְלַבֵּשׁ בִּבְרִיאָה יְצִירָה עֲשִׂיָּיה, בְּחִינַת גְּבוּל וּמִסְפָּר, וְדַי לַמֵּבִין

One of these opposites is the edge of the heavens above, as in "His greatness is unfathomable" (Ps. 145:3), and the other opposite is the edge of the heavens below, which is enclothed in the worlds of Beria , Yetzira , and Asiya , in the form of a limit and number, and this is sufficient explanation for one who understands. The epistle refers to two opposite extremities. At the upper perimeter of heaven, "His greatness is unfathomable" (Ps. 145:3) because He is infinite, and the infinite lies beyond inquiry and comprehension. And the lower perimeter of heaven is clothed in the worlds of Beria, Yetzira and Asiya, which are characterized by boundary and number. The peace that the epistle discusses is the most comprehensive peace between the two farthest extremities: the infinite above and the finite below. Although below, within boundaries, there are endless levels and variations, essentially, all of that has no meaning compared to the infinite. Between the finite and the infinite there is an inherent contradiction that encompasses every actual and possible dichotomy of reality.