עַיֵּין בְּלִקּוּטֵי אֲמָרִים חֵלֶק א פֶּרֶק מ

See Likkutei Amarim , volume 1, chapter 40, The opening sentence, which served as a kind of title for the essay, cites the chapter of Tanya that it relates to. Although the same ideas were also discussed in the previous chapters, they are brought to a conclusion in chapter 40. It is important to note this because the Tanya is not merely a collection of concepts. Rather, the Tanya has a complex, organized structure. Chapter 40 is based on ideas found in the previous chapters (38–39) regarding the importance of intention. Those chapters, in turn, are based on ideas found in the preceding chapters (35–37) concerning the need for action, and so on. Thus, Kuntres Aḥaron must be understood in the context of that entire section of the Tanya.

לְהָבִין אֵיךְ הַקּוֹרֵא בְּסִיפּוּרֵי מַעֲשִׂיּוֹת שֶׁבַּתּוֹרָה הוּא מְקוּשָּׁר בְּחָכְמָה עִילָּאָה

to understand how one who reads all the narrative stories in the Torah is connected to the supernal wisdom, "Narrative stories" may refer to anything in the Torah that is not a practical halakhic teaching. In its narrower definition it means, for example, the stories of the forefathers in the book of Genesis. However, more broadly, even the halakhot in the Written Torah are presented in the form of a narrative: God speaks to Moses, and so on. Nevertheless, the author of the Tanya is referring here to the part of the Torah that we are unable to truly comprehend. It may be said that we are able to understand the halakhic sections: We know what we are required to do, and with regard to halakha, this is tantamount to a complete understanding. As a result, we are able to truly connect with supernal wisdom, Ḥokhma of the world of Atzilut, because we understand it with our human intellect, in our physical world. However, this kind of understanding is possible only with regard to the study of halakha, because halakha is expressed in the world of action, and we are able to truly comprehend this manifestation with our intellect. On the other hand, the narrative accounts in the Torah do not have the same association with our present-day reality. Even when we are able to understand their superficial structure in some form, our inner wisdom connects only to the level of wisdom that we are able to attain from this understanding, rather than to supernal wisdom. Thus, one may ask how a person who studies the narrative accounts in the Torah connects to supernal wisdom.

עַל פִּי מַה שֶּׁכָּתוּב בַּ׳כַּוָּונוֹת׳ דַּף ט״ז עַמּוּד ב׳

in accordance with what is written in Kavanot , page 16b: Sefer HaKavanot is not merely the source of a single explanation of this question. Rather, the overall concept of Sefer HaKavanot itself provides an explanation. This work deals with the higher spiritual meaning of our actions when we observe mitzvot and customs, and of our words when we recite blessings and prayers. It reveals a higher level within the soul and within the words of the Torah, and this level is the basis for the explanation given here by the author of the Tanya.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁהָאָדָם עוֹסֵק לְמַטָּה כָּךְ דְּיוֹקַן הָאָדָם הָעֶלְיוֹן לְמַעְלָה כו׳

Just as a person is engaged below, so too the image of the supernal man above... When a person engages in matters of Torah in the lower realm, his "image," the root of his soul in the higher realm, does so in exactly the same manner. This "image" is the supernal form of the human soul, which is rooted in, and corresponds to, the image of the "supernal man," another term for the structure of the ten sefirot of Atzilut. This supernal image of the human being's essence is bound to the individual in the lower world, and operates together with him, especially when he is engaged in Torah, whose holiness is alike in the higher and lower realms.

וְכֵן יֵשׁ לוֹמַר בְּהִרְהוּר בָּאוֹתִיּוֹת הַכְּתוּבוֹת

And it should be said likewise with regard to contemplating written letters. This explanation of the connection between supernal wisdom and the individual who reads the Torah's narrative accounts pertains to one who contemplates the written letters, without expressing them verbally. When a person speaks, his words and what they create move upward. In contrast, when he just thinks about the words, he is connected to supernal wisdom: Through his thinking, the lower part of his soul is joined with the higher part, which is connected to supernal wisdom. Hitherto, each level of the soul may have been concerned with a different matter, but now, the entire soul, up to the level of supernal wisdom, is united in one thought.

אֲבָל הַדִּבּוּר, יֵשׁ לוֹמַר דְּבוֹקֵעַ וְסָלֵיק לַאֲצִילוּת מַמָּשׁ

Speech, however, can be said to break through and ascend to actual Atzilut , A person's contemplation of the narrative accounts in the Torah remains firmly entrenched in the "inner" soul, even though the soul itself extends all the way to the "image of supernal man." The abovementioned connection to supernal wisdom is not manifest in the lower soul, which is found in the human body, in the world of Asiya. Instead, it is manifest in the upper part of soul, in the "supernal image," which is intrinsically connected to supernal wisdom. In contrast, when a person articulates his thoughts verbally, his speech breaks through the barriers of the soul and the physical world, and ascends to the Divine. This refers to the world of Atzilut itself, and not just to the aspect of the Divine that is present on every level. As explained in Likkutei Amarim (chap. 40), the level to which speech ascends is determined by the person's intention. Love and fear are comparable to wings that carry speech and action to their intended destinations. A person's spiritual intention refers to his thoughts and emotions, his love and fear. When one's intention is on the level of "atzilut " in the soul, it elevates his speech and binds it to Atzilut itself. As explained below (and in Likkutei Amarim, chaps. 39–40), when a person's love and fear are intellectual, they elevate his speech to the world of Beria, and when his love and fear are natural and innate, they elevate his speech to the world of Yetzira. Lastly, when one's intention is purely to engage in the act of speech, which is the essential requirement for studying the Written Torah, his speech ascends to the holy realm of Asiya.

אוֹ לִבְרִיאָה, בִּדְחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ שִׂכְלִיִּים אוֹ לִיצִירָה בִּדְחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ טִבְעִיִּים

or to Beria , through intellectual fear and love, or to Yetzira , through natural fear and love. At any given moment, the essence of an individual's intention is expressed through the fear and love that he is experiencing. His fear and love elevate his earthly speech and actions to the realm with which they are associated. When one's feelings of fear and love derive solely from his intellectual understanding, they convey his words to the world of Beria, the realm of the intellect. Natural love and fear elevate a person's spoken words to the world of Yetzira. The world of Yetzira is the realm of the emotions, or the emotive attributes, which determine how we relate to the creations that were defined and given existence by the intellect. As mentioned, intellectual love and fear are elements of the intellectual realm. Here, on the other hand, the reference is to the love and fear themselves, as a world of their own, the realm of emotion. As mentioned, the emotive attributes of Beria comprise the emotions of the intellectual realm, namely intellectual love and fear. In the same way, the cognitive attributes of Yetzira form the intellectual aspect of the emotional realm. This is why the author of the Tanya refers to "natural fear and love" in relation to the world of Yetzira. These emotions do not originate in the intellect. Instead, they are generated by their own, internal source within the essence of the world of Yetzira, which is the realm of emotion. The cognitive attributes of Yetzira awaken these emotions and help to develop and actualize them, but unlike in the world of Beria, they do not form them from nothingness.

וּבְמִקְרָא סָלֵיק מֵעוֹלָם הַזֶּה לְעֶשֶׂר סְפִירוֹת דַּעֲשִׂיָּה מִשּׁוּם דְּבָקַע אֲוִירִין וכו׳

And in the case of the Written Torah, it ascends from this world to the ten sefirot of Asiya , because it breaks through air spaces… When a person enunciates the letters of the Written Torah, they ascend from this world of Asiya, where they are written and spoken, to the ten sefirot of the world of Asiya. The unique element in the study of the Written Torah, in contrast to the various levels of the Oral Torah, is the enunciation of the written letters. One's intention, the love and fear that he experiences at that moment, is insignificant with respect to the study of the Written Torah itself. Ostensibly, then, there are no "wings" that elevate this type of Torah study beyond Asiya. Instead, it rises from the level of Asiya itself, in the physical world, to the ten holy sefirot of Asiya. Regarding every world, we can distinguish between the world itself and its ten sefirot. The world itself is the dimension of "reality," which includes time, space, and the creations that are found in that realm. The ten sefirot, on the other hand, comprise the divine element of that world, which forms it, sustains it, and embodies its conception of the Divine. Consequently, advancing from a particular world to the ten sefirot of the same world constitutes the most momentous transition. It involves progressing from the worldly realm to the divine realm, and this is certainly more significant than ascending from one world to another. Unlike his thoughts, a person's speech always ascends, no matter what part of the Torah it is drawn from, and no matter what his level of intention is. The words that we utter pierce the air around us and the firmament that separates us from all that is beyond us. Even in the physical realm, speech emerges from one's personal space and enters the space of the other. The same thing happens in our relationship with God: Through the very act of verbalizing them, a person's words of Torah and prayer emerge from the human domain and ascend to the divine realm of the same world. This is true even if he does not experience intellectual or natural love and fear, although of course, he must not have any kind of intention that diminishes or suppresses his words. These are the Torah's words, which are essentially the words of God Himself. When a person says these words and letters aloud, both the letters and the speaker are connected to the letters spoken by God. Regarding ordinary speech, a person's words emerge from his private domain, but they do not always reach their destination. However, when one restates another person's exact words, his words connect to the other person's intention and inevitably to the other person himself, as long as the speaker does not obstruct this connection with a different intention or thought. Thus, provided that one's intention is directed toward the essential holiness of his action or speech, he elevates the letters by verbalizing them. Even when his intention remains in the world of Asiya, the letters are raised up from the world itself, the physical domain, to the realm of holiness, which is where God's will, wisdom, and kindness give off their light.

מַה שֶּׁאֵין כֵּן בְּהִרְהוּר אֶלָּא הַדְּיוֹקָן שֶׁהוּא שֹׁרֶשׁ נִשְׁמָתוֹ וכו׳

This is not the case for contemplation; rather, the image, which is the root of his soul… When a person does not say the words but only thinks them, they do not emerge, ascend, and unite with the divine being. However, as explained above, one's thoughts about the Torah's words do not remain in the lower realm, separate from supernal wisdom, either. Instead, they ascend within the person's soul to the image of supernal man, which is the soul's root in supernal wisdom. In this regard, a person's thoughts do not need to emerge or break through firmaments in order to enter a different realm, because they are able to reach the level of supernal wisdom within the soul. When one contemplates the Torah's words in the lower realm, his soul, situated in the upper realm, contemplates them as well. Thus, when there is only contemplation, nothing truly shifts or breaks through firmaments. Only the soul's wondrous connection to supernal wisdom receives a new "melody," a new expression. It receives this new expression on account of the Torah's words, the words of God Himself, which pass through the person. It is as though it awakens from a slumber of inactivity and meaninglessness, and reveals an entirely new countenance.

וּמַה שֶּׁכָּתוּב בַּזֹּהַר חֵלֶק ג׳ דַּף ק״ה דְּהִרְהוּר לָא עָבֵיד מִידֵּי כו׳, וְהַיְינוּ אֲפִילּוּ לְטָב, עַיֵּין שָׁם

As for what is written in the Zohar (3:105) that contemplation does not achieve anything…, and this means even for the good, see there This passage in the Zohar is concerned with the Sabbath. The verse states, "You call the Sabbath a delight…you honor it by refraining from doing your business, from seeking your needs, and from speaking of matters" (Isa. 58:13). This teaches that in addition to refraining from desecrating the Sabbath through action, one must also refrain from doing so through mundane speech. The Zohar explains that unlike action, speech does not necessarily violate the holiness of the Sabbath in the lower world. However, when speech ascends to a higher level of existence, to the realm of speech, it becomes a solid reality, just like an action in the world of action. In that higher realm, speech does violate the holiness of the Sabbath. The Zohar goes on to say that this pertains specifically to speech. On the other hand, thought is not active in the higher realms. Consequently, the contemplation of mundane matters is permitted on the Sabbath. Thus, we learn that mere thoughts that are not "good" do not ascend to the higher realms, nor do they do any damage to those realms. Moreover, after quoting the Zohar, the author of the Tanya adds the phrase "even for the good." Evidently, even "good" thoughts, such as reflections on the Torah's words, do not ascend by contemplation alone, if unaccompanied by action or speech.

וּבְדַף ל״א עַמּוּד ב׳ יֵשׁ לוֹמַר דְּהַיְינוּ לְאִתְעָרָא לְעֵילָּא שֶׁיּוּמְשַׁךְ מִשָּׁם לְתַתָּא רַק מַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ נִשְׁאֲרָה שָׁם וּמוֹסִיפָה שָׁם אוֹר גָּדוֹל בְּתוֹסֶפֶת וְרִיבּוּי הָאוֹר בַּאֲצִילוּת

and on page 31b, that is referring to an awakening above which will be drawn down from there to below. Only his thought remains there, adding a great light there, through the addition and increase of the light in Atzilut The second source cited from the Zohar likewise speaks of a word that is uttered in the lower world, and that ascends and breaks through firmaments to evoke either good or evil, depending on its nature. The words of the Zohar indicate that speech alone ascends and acts in the upper realm. This seems to contradict what is said here, namely that our thoughts also ascend and become connected to the supernal image, which is in supernal wisdom, in the world of Atzilut. However, when the Zohar states that thoughts do not "act" in the upper realm, it does not mean that they do not ascend to the upper realm, nor that they are insignificant in the upper realm. Rather, it means that thoughts do not evoke a downward flow from the upper realm. Our holy thoughts certainly ascend to the upper realm, for that is where they belong. When there is nothing physical binding a holy thought to the lower world, it ascends and connects to its highest abode within the soul, ultimately reaching its source in the world of Atzilut. When it arrives at that point, it is not merely subsumed like a drop in the sea. Rather, it adds something new that greatly increases the light that was already present in the world of Atzilut. Now, the author of the Tanya relates to what was stated a few paragraphs ago regarding the verbal expression of the Torah's words and letters. This speech ascends together with the thoughts and intentions the person had while speaking.

עַל יְדֵי מִקְרָא וּמִצְוֹת מַעֲשִׂיּוֹת שֶׁבַּעֲשִׂיָּה

by means of the Written Torah and mitzvot performed with a physical action in Asiya . Thought's capacity to ascend to supernal Ḥokhma of Atzilut is not comprised of only thought itself. When a thought ascends, it brings with it all that was tied to it the lower realms: If one articulated or acted on a thought, his speech or action ascends together with the thought, and furthermore, it rises to the very same height as the thought. When this happens, the increase in light in Atzilut is even more significant. Moreover, as mentioned, the additional light causes the light in the upper realm to flow down into the realm of Asiya, where the speech was uttered or the action performed. This will be explained below.

שֶׁעִיקַּר הַיִּחוּד הוּא לְמַעְלָה רַק הַפֵּירוֹת בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה עַל יְדֵי הַמְשָׁכַת אוֹר מְעַט מִזְּעֵיר לְמַטָּה עַל יְדֵי הַדִּבּוּר וּמַעֲשֶׂה

For the primary union is above; only the fruits are in this world, by means of the drawing forth of a miniscule amount of light below, through speech and action. The ascent from the lower realm creates a union, or merger, between the higher and lower realms. In the spiritual reality, entities are separate from one another as a result of their distinct spiritual levels. The world of Yetzira is separate from the world of Beria, not in the sense that one is in the east and the other is in the west, but rather, they constitute different spiritual levels. The two extremities of one level may be vastly different, yet they are still part of one system, one world. On the other hand, the differences between two distinct levels are fundamental, for they are like two separate worlds. Therefore, when that which is in the lower realm ascends, the primary union is formed and revealed in the upper realm. The highest realm is Atzilut, the world of unity. There, polar opposites are revealed in a state of unity: right and left, upper and lower, lights and vessels, one and many, and world and Divine. The "primary union," which is found in the upper realm, may be referred to as the "principal." On the other hand, the "fruits," which emerge from the upper realm and enter the physical world, correspond to the "proceeds," which do not reduce the principal. In the spiritual realm, this term refers to the emitted light, or flow, which has no value in relation to the supernal union. However, it has value and significance in the distant places which the light reaches, that is, the significance that the supernal union has in the vessels and concepts of the physical word. These vessels include the love between human beings, and any flow from above that translates into a physical blessing, such as livelihood, health, or children. All of these blessings embody a kind of union between the person in need and that which he lacks. The downward flow of the "fruits" is an extremely small life force derived from the light of the supernal union. This miniscule amount of light is what the limited vessels of the lower world are able to receive, and accordingly, it has meaning for our lives in the physical world. When the Zohar states that things are accomplished by means of speech and action, it is referring to the flow that is awakened and drawn down from Atzilut into the realm of action.

מַה שֶּׁאֵין כֵּן בְּהִרְהוּר, לֹא נִמְשָׁךְ כְּלוּם

This is not the case for contemplation, where nothing is drawn forth. In the case of thought alone, without action or speech, all movement is in an upward direction. Since nothing actually ascends from below, but instead, the soul that thinks in the lower realm thinks in the upper realm as well, nothing is drawn down either. In kabbalistic terms, if the feminine waters are not elevated, the masculine waters do not flow downward. By analogy, a scholar may reflect on some worldly concept without ever actually considering any of its physical elements, because he is thinking on higher, more abstract levels. The understanding that this scholar reaches does not give any meaning to the physical "metaphor," which is the worldly matter that he contemplates. The physical matter is of no interest to him: He is focused on its higher, abstract meaning, and on the possibility of attaining even higher levels of understanding.

וְלָכֵן לֹא יָצָא יְדֵי חוֹבָתוֹ מַה שֶּׁיָּרְדָה נִשְׁמָתוֹ לָעוֹלָם הַזֶּה רַק לְהַמְשִׁיךְ אוֹרוֹת עֶלְיוֹנִים לְמַטָּה, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בְּעֵץ חַיִּים שַׁעַר כ״ו ‘לְהַמְשִׁיךְ אוֹר׳

Therefore, he has not fulfilled his duty, as his soul descended to this world only to draw down supernal lights to below, as is written in Etz Ḥayyim , 26: "To draw forth light." Thus, a person's duty is not fulfilled through thought alone. The soul's objective, rather than to ascend, is to draw down light into the lower world, where it is situated in the body. It states in Etz Ḥayyim that the reason why the soul is required to become enclothed in physical matter, namely the body and the physical world, and in the spiritual garment [tzelem ] that enables it to become enclothed in the body, is only in order to draw light into them and rectify them. The whole purpose of the soul's descent is to rectify the lower reality. It further states that the soul's descent into the body is akin to the exile of the Divine Presence, as well as the exile of the Jewish people among the nations, for it is a descent with a purpose that does not relate only to the soul itself. Simply put, the soul does not descend only in order to ascend, and likewise, the Jewish people were not exiled only in order to return. Rather, in each of these cases, there is a purpose that must be achieved in the lower realm, in the course of the descent or exile. So too, a person's task in this world is to descend and draw down the supernal light. The problem with the lower realm is not its lowly position, but the fact that it perceives itself as separate from the Divine. Consequently, the way to rectify the lower realm is not by raising it up so that it is no longer "lower," but by drawing light into it from above. When this happens, it is still the lower realm, but it is no longer separate. In fact, it manifests the highest level of holiness. As explained elsewhere, the purpose of creation is for God to desire a dwelling place in the lower world.

אֲבָל לְהַעֲלוֹת מִמַּטָּה לְמַעְלָה הוּא דַּוְקָא עַל יְדֵי ‘מַחֲשָׁבָה טוֹבָה׳

However, elevating from below to above is achieved specifically by means of "a good thought," Action and speech constitute the drawing down of the soul into vessels of the letters and physical matter. In contrast, a good, holy thought constitutes the elevation of the soul to its supernal image, its highest source. When the soul is elevated in this way, the letters of its speech ascend with it, as do the actions it performs.

דִּבְלָא דְּחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ לָא פָּרְחָא לְעֵילָּא וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בְּשַׁעַר הַנְּבוּאָה פֶּרֶק ב׳, וְהַמַּחֲשָׁבָה טוֹבָה כו׳

for without fear and love it will not ascend upward, as is written in Sha'ar HaNevua , chapter 2: "And the good thought…" Actions and words do not ascend by themselves, even if they are "good" actions and words, namely mitzvot and words of Torah. They ascend only by means of the fear and love that the individual feels when he does or says them, or by means of a "good thought," as explained above. It states in Sha'ar HaNevua that no words of Torah or prayer are spoken in vain: They all ascend and break through firmaments. However, the magnitude of the ascent, and the nature of the angels that are created and borne by the words, are determined by the thoughts and intentions the person has while he is speaking. When one's intentions are lofty and free of worldly distractions, his words ascend to a higher level, and the angels that are created are loftier and purer, both in form and expression. It is further explained that a person's words are reflected back to him in the mouths of these angels. If his thoughts were good, the angels reveal supernal words of truth, but if his thoughts were worldly, they reflect words of falsehood. To conclude this essay, the author of the Tanya elucidates another aspect of the complex relationship between intention and action. Having begun with the question of what happens to intentions that are not accompanied by speech, he ends by asking what happens to speech that is completely devoid of intention. Above, it was stated that without love and fear, our spoken words do not ascend. The author of the Tanya questions this based on the passage of the Zohar quoted above.

וּמַה שֶּׁכָּתַב דְּבָקַע רְקִיעִין וכו׳, וְהַיְינוּ אֲפִילּוּ בְּלֹא דְּחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ, בְּ׳מִכָּל שֶׁכֵּן׳ מִדְּבָרִים בְּטֵלִים

And regarding that which he wrote, that "it broke through firmaments…" – and that means even without fear and love, and all the more so from idle conversation The Zohar, cited above, states that spoken words of Torah break through the firmaments and ascend beyond this world. The author of the Tanya explains that this applies even if the words are uttered without any holy intentions of love and fear for the sake of Heaven. Although this is not explicitly stated in the Zohar, the author of the Tanya argues that it may be inferred from the reference to idle, mundane talk. The Zohar teaches that if a person speaks of mundane matters on the Sabbath, his words ascend to the higher realm and detract from the sanctity of the Sabbath. Such a person is certainly not speaking with holy intentions, but just the opposite. Thus, if these mundane words ascend, then words of holiness, even if they are not stated with intention, certainly ascend as well.

[זֶה אֵינוֹ, דְּגַם שָׁם יֵשׁ אֵיזוֹ תַּאֲוָה (בְּנוּסָּח אַחֵר לֵיתָא תֵּיבוֹת אֵלּוּ)]

[this is not so, as there too there is some sort of lust (these words do not appear in an alternative version)] Ostensibly, this parenthetical statement negates the idea that our words ascend even when they are devoid of fear and love. However, it can also be interpreted as further corroboration of this idea. It asserts that the assumption that idle talk is devoid of intention is incorrect. When a person engages in idle talk, he does so because he has some degree of spiritual lust for his subject, or for the act of speaking itself. This lust is a spiritual force, and although it may not be "holy," it elevates earthly speech to its own level of spirituality. Indeed, "spiritual" does not necessarily mean "holy." Just like the physical world, the spiritual worlds contain elements that are "good" and "holy," and elements that are not holy. There is "holy" love, and love that is not holy, yet both of them belong to the spiritual realm of love. Thus, the lust involved in idle talk elevates the words to its own level of spirituality, despite the fact that its spirituality is flawed. It is important to note, however, that on the higher, more spiritual levels of reality, that which is "not good" is flimsier. At each level, it gets closer to the good and the holy, until it is like the precursor to evil, or simply the possibility that evil might exist. In any case, we can still infer from the Zohar that holy speech ascends, because holy speech cannot be completely bereft of intention and spirituality either. As explained at length in Likkutei Amarim, even when a person does not feel the emotions of love and fear, there are other spiritual forces that galvanize him to act and speak, despite the fact that he ostensibly lacks "intention." These are forces of direct and indirect conclusions, which are expressed through the person's acceptance of the yoke of Heaven, and even his habits of behavior. Thus, even if the love and fear of God that underlie a person's words and actions are "concealed," they are nonetheless capable of elevating those words and actions. For if worldly passion is capable of elevating frivolous talk, concealed love and fear must certainly be capable of elevating words of Torah.

דְּמִדָּה טוֹבָה מְרוּבָּה

as the measure of good is greater – Whether or not the parenthetical statement above is included, there is a basic assumption here that "the measure of good is greater." The term "the measure of good" is used by the Sages to refer to the way in which God bestows His goodness upon the world and rewards us. The simple explanation for the fact that it is "greater" is that the measure of good moves in the same direction as the flow, abundance, and kindness that embody creation itself. Thus it unites with and enhances the forces of creation, or in other words, the forces of giving, which form and sustain life. On the other hand, God's "measure of punishment" restricts, negates, and conceals. Since this attribute goes against the forces of creation, it only restricts and diminishes them. It is the same with regard to human speech. Idle speech ascends even though it does not belong in the upper realm, and actually longs to descend. Consequently, it goes without saying that holy speech and holy intentions, which do belong in the upper realm, and in whose nature it is to ascend, ascend as well, and reach even higher. In any case, the assertion of the Zohar, namely that our words ascend even without love and fear, seems to directly contradict what the author of the Tanya wrote above.

הַיְינוּ רְקִיעִין דַּוְקָא, שֶׁהֵן הַהֵיכָלוֹת וְהַבָּתִּים,

that is referring specifically to firmaments, which are the chambers and the houses, not the body of the supernal man. The contradiction is resolved in the following way: The Zohar describes the ascent of words that, even if they are devoid of love and fear, break through firmaments. Yet the term "firmaments" refers to the external worlds only. On the other hand, regarding the ten sefirot of each world, our words cannot reach them without love and fear.

וְכָל שֶׁכֵּן בְּנֶפֶשׁ רוּחַ נְשָׁמָה

And all the more so the nefesh , ruaḥ , neshama , The "body of the supernal man" pertains to the "vessels" of the ten sefirot, while nefesh, ruaḥ, and neshama are the "lights" within these vessels. The light within a vessel is analogous to the soul enclothed in the human body. Just as the soul contains the levels of nefesh, ruaḥ, and neshama, the lights within the vessels of the ten sefirot contain these levels as well. Consequently, if speech and actions that are unaccompanied by fear and love do not ascend to the body of the supernal man, they certainly do not ascend to nefesh, ruaḥ, and neshama either.

אֲפִילּוּ בְּ׳אָדָם דַּעֲשִׂיָּה׳ שֶׁהֵן עֶשֶׂר סְפִירוֹת אוֹרוֹת וְכֵלִים

even with regard to the "man of Asiya ," which are the ten sefirot , lights, and vessels. Without the intention to do God's will, or in other words, without love and fear of God, our words and actions do not ascend even to the lowest order of the ten sefirot, namely the ten sefirot of Asiya. This is because, as explained above (and at length in Iggeret HaKodesh, epistle 20), the most substantial border in existence is the one that lies between a world and its sefirot. This assertion is true with regard to all worlds, even Asiya. It refers to the border between the worldly and the Divine: Neither words nor souls can cross this border without the presence of love and fear.

וְזֶה שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּתִּקּוּנִים דִּבְלָא דְּחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ לָא יָכְלָא לְסָלְקָא וּלְמֵיקַם קֳדָם ה׳ דַּוְקָא

This is the meaning of that which is written in the Tikkunim , that without fear and love it cannot ascend and stand before God – specifically "before God." The move from the external world to the ten sefirot, even of Asiya, constitutes a shift from the external realm to the inner realm, or in other words, from the act of focusing on that which God does and creates to focusing on God Himself. The inner realm can be penetrated only by means of love and fear of God. Love and fear are what enable us to connect to the souls of others. We are certainly able to act and speak without forming any kind of personal connection to others. One might do so out of habit, desire, or a belief that it is necessary. However, a deep personal connection develops, both for the individual who does the act and for the other person, only when the act is performed out of love or fear. Likewise, when one simply performs a mitzva or utters words of Torah or prayer without love and fear, his words and actions remain in the world. However, when he does these things out of love and fear of God, because they connect to his soul, his speech and actions ascend and penetrate God's own love and fear, which are the ten sefirot of the particular world in which he is speaking and acting.