וְהִנֵּה כְּשֶׁהָאָדָם מַגְבִּיר נַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלֹהִית וְנִלְחָם כָּל כָּךְ עִם הַבַּהֲמִית עַד שֶׁמְּגָרֵשׁ וּמְבָעֵר הָרַע שֶׁבָּהּ מֵחָלָל הַשְּׂמָאלִי, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: "וּבִעַרְתָּ הָרָע מִקִּרְבֶּךָ״ (דברים כא, כא),

When a person fortifies his divine soul and fights so vigorously with the animal soul that he drives out and eliminates its evil from the left chamber of his heart, as it is written, "You shall eliminate the evil from your midst" (Deut. 21:21), The literal meaning of this verse is in the social context, referring to the elimination of an evil individual from the community. Here the author of the Tanya is presenting it as an injunction to eliminate the evil element within oneself.

וְאֵין הָרַע נֶהְפַּךְ לְטוֹב מַמָּשׁ, נִקְרָא צַדִּיק שֶׁאֵינוֹ גָּמוּר, וְצַדִּיק וְרַע לוֹ, דְּהַיְינוּ שֶׁיֵּשׁ בּוֹ עֲדַיִן מְעַט מִזְּעֵר רַע בֶּחָלָל הַשְּׂמָאלִי

yet the evil did not transform into actual good, he is referred to as an incomplete tzaddik, or by the parallel term, a righteous person who suffers, literally, "a righteous person who possesses evil." That is, he still has a minuscule amount of evil in the left chamber of his heart, the abode of the animal soul. In its most literal sense, the phrase tzaddik vera lo, or "a righteous person who suffers," relates to the issue of reward and punishment and the age-old question, why do the righteous suffer? Why do they experience evil? But the phrase also has a deeper meaning: It refers to the tzaddik who still possesses some evil, which relates to the inner composition of the incomplete tzaddik.

אֶלָּא שֶׁכָּפוּף וּבָטֵל לַטּוֹב מֵחֲמַת מִיעוּטוֹ, וְלָכֵן נִדְמֶה לוֹ כִּי וַיְגָרְשֵׁהוּ וַיֵּלֶךְ לוֹ כּוּּלּוֹ לְגַמְרֵי. אֲבָל בֶּאֱמֶת אִלּוּ חָלַף וְהָלַךְ לוֹ לְגַמְרֵי כָּל הָרַע שֶׁבּוֹ, הָיָה נֶהְפַּךְ לְטוֹב מַמָּשׁ.

Yet on account of its minuteness, the evil within him is subservient and nullified by the good. It therefore seems to him that he has driven it out and it has gone wholly and completely, but in truth, had all the evil in him disappeared and was gone completely, it would have transformed into actual good. There is no outward difference, in deed, speech, or thought, between a complete tzaddik and an incomplete tzaddik. A person who acts in full conformity with the divine will might be completely righteous, but he might also be an incomplete tzaddik or even, as will be explained, not a tzaddik at all but a beinoni. The difference is internal and invisible and might even elude the person himself. One cannot always know whether one has achieved a complete transformation within. The definition of a tzaddik, complete or otherwise, is someone who has no internal struggle against evil. His divine soul has achieved a decisive victory over his animal soul, and if this has not happened, he is not a tzaddik. To distinguish between the complete tzaddik and the incomplete tzaddik, one requires some sign, some indication, to tell him whether the tzaddik has truly overcome his evil inclination. If he had indeed driven out all evil from within, the animal soul would not have merely submitted to the divine soul. Something more drastic would have occurred: The evil would have been converted into absolute good. Complete victory implies more than mere conquest of kelippa by the divine soul, more than the neutralization of the animal soul's ability to tempt the person with material pleasures. It implies a complete transformation so that the animal soul itself has become a force for holiness. So long as a person has not yet achieved this fundamental change, a residue of evil remains within him, and he is still in the category of a "righteous person who possesses evil."

וּבֵיאוּר הָעִנְיָן, כִּי הִנֵּה צַדִּיק גָּמוּר שֶׁנֶּהְפַּךְ הָרַע שֶׁלּוֹ לְטוֹב וְלָכֵן נִקְרָא צַדִּיק וְטוֹב לוֹ, הוּא עַל יְדֵי הֲסָרַת הַבְּגָדִים הַצּוֹאִים לְגַמְרֵי מֵהָרַע, דְּהַיְינוּ לִמְאוֹס מְאֹד בְּתַעֲנוּגֵי עוֹלָם הַזֶּה, לְהִתְעַנֵּג בָּם בְּתַעֲנוּגוֹת בְּנֵי אָדָם לְמַלֹּאת תַּאֲוַת הַגּוּף בִּלְבַד וְלֹא לַעֲבוֹדַת ה׳, מִפְּנֵי הֱיוֹתָם נִמְשָׁכִים וְנִשְׁפָּעִים מֵהַקְּלִיפָּה וְסִטְרָא אָחֳרָא.

The explanation of the matter is as follows: A complete tzaddik, whose evil has been transformed into good and, as such, is referred to as a righteous person who possesses only good, effected this transformation by completely removing the soiled garments from the evil. In other words, the tzaddik is exceedingly repulsed by the pleasures of this world, from gaining pleasure from human gratification, satisfying bodily lusts exclusively and not for the service of God, because the pleasures stem from and issue forth from the kelippa and sitra aḥara . That the person is disgusted by evil is the sign that he is a complete tzaddik, the indication that he has indeed removed all the "soiled garments." It is not only that he does not commit evil or even bear the temptations of evil, but he actually feels disgusted by it. That means that he cannot enjoy even a permissible thing that is not used for the sake of Heaven, and he certainly cannot commit any such action. The idea that a person can engage in a physical activity simply to derive enjoyment from it, that a person can eat something simply because it is tasty, is an abomination that the complete tzaddik cannot bear. A hasid of our own generation, Rabbi Yitzḥak Horowitz, better known as "Reb Itche der Masmid," was sent to America by the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzḥak Schneerson. In a letter that he sent home, Reb Itche wrote the profoundly shocking observation that "here in America, people actually drink wine and eat meat for pleasure!" Thus we see that there is such a thing as a person who is shocked by the sight of people eating simply to enjoy themselves, without pangs of conscience and without even pretending that they are doing it for a holy purpose.

וְכָל מַה שֶּׁהוּא מֵהַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא, הַצַּדִּיק גָּמוּר הוּא שׂוֹנְאוֹ בְּתַכְלִית הַשִּׂנְאָה, מֵחֲמַת גּוֹדֶל אַהֲבָתוֹ לַה׳ וּקְדוּשָּׁתוֹ בְּאַהֲבָה רַבָּה בְּתַעֲנוּגִים וְחִיבָּה יְתֵרָה הַנִּזְכָּרִים לְעֵיל, כִּי הֵם זֶה לְעוּמַּת זֶה, כְּדִכְתִיב: "תַּכְלִית שִׂנְאָה שְׂנֵאתִים לְאוֹיְבִים הָיוּ לִי חָקְרֵנִי וְדַע לְבָבִי״ וגו׳ (תהלים קלט, כב-כג).

The complete tzaddik utterly hates anything that stems from the sitra aḥara on account of the magnitude of his love for God and His holiness, as manifest by the aforementioned great love of delights and utmost affection for Him, since one corresponds to the other, as it is written, "I hate them with utter hatred; they have become my enemies. Search me, God, and know my heart…" (Ps. 139:22–23). The way to "search me and know my heart," to find out if one's love for God is indeed absolute, is to see whether one's regard of everything deriving from kelippa is such that "I hate them with utter hatred." The two are antithetical to each other. A desire, or even the slightest affinity, for kelippa indicates a less than complete desire for the Divine.

וּכְפִי עֵרֶךְ גּוֹדֶל הָאַהֲבָה לַה׳ כָּךְ עֵרֶךְ גּוֹדֶל הַשִּׂנְאָה לַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא וְהַמִּיאוּס בָּרַע בְּתַכְלִית, כִּי הַמִּיאוּס הוּא הֵפֶךְ הָאַהֲבָה מַמָּשׁ, כְּמוֹ הַשִּׂנְאָה.

Commensurate with the magnitude of one's love for God, so is the magnitude of one's hatred toward the sitra aḥara and one's utter repulsion of evil, for repulsion is literally the opposite of love, as is hatred. Every person hates what is contrary to that which he loves. Since the tzaddik has love only for God, he abhors what is contrary to it: the sitra aḥara, the other side that is antithetical to holiness. Such a measure of the heart's desires is not limited to complete tzaddikim. In every society and in every individual's inner moral scale are certain things that are simply not done, certain limits that are not to be exceeded no matter what, things that are utterly despised because they are antithetical to everything that society or that the individual understands to be right and desirable. These things are not only not done, they are unthinkable. They are not temptations that need to be resisted because they are so totally abhorred that no possibility of temptation exists. The idea of murdering someone in order to rob him of his money was once unheard of in Israeli society; there were thieves, but killing for money was taboo. Today, that boundary has been breached, and Israeli society has, so to speak, become receptive to the idea that such things are possible. People might still utterly reject the idea of killing for money, but they no longer feel the horror and abomination that the very thought once evoked, because the act has entered the realm of possibility. In our society, the idea of eating human flesh is unthinkable. If we hear of a case of cannibalism, our reaction is one of total abhorrence and extreme contempt toward the one who did such a deed. Yet there are places in the world where even if people do not practice cannibalism daily, the idea is not unthinkable. There are things that people would never do, sins they would never commit, yet the possibility is not unthinkable, and the temptation or at least the thought of doing them might occasionally arise in their hearts. But for every person, there are certain sins regarding which his heart is utterly pure, sins he would never even consider as a possibility. This is the way the complete tzaddik relates to everything belonging to the sphere of that which is unholy, in every shape and form. He does not comprehend them; they do not enter his mind. His mind and soul are attuned to that which is holy and yearn for God alone. Worldly pleasures of any kind are inconceivable to him, and he fails to understand how they can be conceivable to anyone else.

וְצַדִּיק שֶׁאֵינוֹ גָּמוּר, הוּא שֶׁאֵינוֹ שֹוֹנֵא הַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא בְּתַכְלִית הַשִּׂנְאָה, וְלָכֵן אֵינוֹ מוֹאֵס גַּם כֵּן בָּרַע בְּתַכְלִית, וְכָל שֶׁאֵין הַשִּׂנְאָה וְהַמִּיאוּס בְּתַכְלִית – עַל כָּרְחָךְ נִשְׁאָר אֵיזֶה שֶׁמֶץ אַהֲבָה וְתַעֲנוּג לְשָׁם, וְלֹא הוּסְרוּ הַבְּגָדִים הַצּוֹאִים לְגַמְרֵי מִכֹּל וָכֹל. וְלָכֵן לֹא נֶהְפַּךְ לְטוֹב מַמָּשׁ מֵאַחַר שֶׁיֵּשׁ לוֹ אֵיזֶה אֲחִיזָה עֲדַיִן בַּבְּגָדִים הַצּוֹאִים, אֶלָּא שֶׁהוּא בָּטֵל בְּמִעוּטוֹ וּכְלָא חֲשִׁיב, וְלָכֵן נִקְרָא צַדִּיק וְרַע כָּפוּף וּבָטֵל לוֹ.

An incomplete tzaddik is one who does not utterly hate the sitra aḥara , and therefore also is not utterly repulsed by evil, and as long as the hatred and repulsion of evil are not absolute, there must necessarily remain a shred of love and pleasure toward it. The soiled garments were not completely removed through and through, and therefore the evil did not transform into actual good, since it still has a grip, however slight, on the soiled garments. Rather, it is nullified on account of its insignificance and is reckoned as if it were nothing, and therefore he is referred to as a tzaddik who possesses evil that is subservient and nullified within him. The incomplete tzaddik behaves like a complete tzaddik in every way. He too has passed the stage of inner doubt, torment, and struggle. He too is not tempted by evil and experiences no urge for anything that is not holy. The difference between them is in the innermost recesses of their hearts, in the ultimate transformation of evil to good. The incomplete tzaddik differs from the complete tzaddik in that he has not yet achieved this quintessential transformation. As long as this transformation has not occurred, there is a part of his soul that is not dedicated to the service of God. Although he has succeeded in suppressing that part of himself, and he serves God in all his deeds and ways, he serves Him without feeling an utter hatred for evil, not because he is likely to sin, God forbid, but because his soul still contains a shred of something contrary to that which is holy, albeit in the most subtle and diminished of forms. As long as a person possesses a vestige of evil within him, he is vulnerable to it, even though he might never actually act on it. The very fact that he is not overcome with revulsion at the thought of it, that he can accept its possibility with equanimity, indicates that it is not completely inconceivable to him. If it were truly beyond possibility for him, it would provoke a sharp negative reaction: "Utterly impossible!" Since the person does not possess an absolute hatred and revulsion of the other side, the potential for the expression of the forces of impurity still exists within him and he is called an incomplete tzaddik.

וְעַל כֵּן גַּם אַהֲבָתוֹ לַה׳ אֵינָהּ בְּתַכְלִית, וְלָכֵן נִקְרָא צַדִּיק שֶׁאֵינוֹ גָּמוּר.

Consequently, his love for God too is not perfect, and he is therefore referred to as an incomplete tzaddik. Just as the person's hatred and repulsion for evil is not absolute, his love for God also is not perfect. Since he does not have a perfect hold on that which is holy, he is not completely disassociated from evil. The evil within him has been silenced but has not been converted into a positive force in his divine service. His love of God is thus incomplete, because it is fueled by less than one hundred percent of his potential, by less than the combined forces of his divine and animal souls.

וְהִנֵּה מַדְרֵגָה זוֹ מִתְחַלֶּקֶת לְרִבְבוֹת מַדְרֵגוֹת בְּעִנְיַן בְּחִינַת מִיעוּט הָרַע הַנִּשְׁאָר מֵאַחַת מֵאַרְבַּע יְסוֹדוֹת הָרָעִים,

This rank of incomplete tzaddik can be divided into myriad levels based on the quality of the shred of remaining evil that stems from one of the four evil elements of the animal soul Only one type of complete tzaddik exists: the person who possesses not the slightest trace of evil, having effected its complete conversion into good. By contrast, the incomplete tzaddik still possesses some evil, which comes in many shapes and forms. This translates into myriad types and levels of incomplete tzaddik, defined by the quality and quantity of evil still within him.

וּבְעִנְיַן בִּטּוּלוֹ בְּמִיעוּטוֹ בְּשִׁשִּׁים עַל דֶּרֶךְ מָשָׁל, אוֹ בְּאֶלֶף וּרְבָבָה וְכַיּוֹצֵא עַל דֶּרֶךְ מָשָׁל.

and based on its nullification on account of its insignificance, whether in sixty times as much good, for example, or, for example, in one thousand or ten thousand and so forth. Here the author of the Tanya employs halakhic terminology. Batel beshishim refers to a circumstance where a small amount of prohibited food that is accidentally mixed with permitted food may in some cases be considered negligible if it is less than one part in sixty. In other cases, the halakha raises the question of whether certain foods might be nullified if it is less than one part in a thousand. In the realm of halakha, these might not result in different degrees of nullification. When a thing is nullified, it is nullified. Similarly, there is no practical difference between an incomplete tzaddik whose evil is nullified by sixty and one whose evil is nullified by a thousand. In either case, the evil has been suppressed to the point that it has no effect on his behavior or his inclinations. But in terms of the person's inner truth, in terms of the quality of his love for God and his proximity to his ultimate perfection, there are differences between lesser and greater ratios of nullification.

וְהֵן הֵם בְּחִינַת צַדִּיקִים הָרַבִּים שֶׁבְּכָל הַדּוֹרוֹת, כִּדְאִיתָא בַּגְּמָרָא (סוכה מה, ב): דְּתַמְנֵיסַר אַלְפֵי צַדִּיקֵי קַיְּימֵי קַמֵּיהּ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא. אַךְ עַל מַעֲלַת צַדִּיק גָּמוּר – הוּא שֶׁאָמַר רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יוֹחַאי: "רָאִיתִי בְּנֵי עֲלִיָּה וְהֵם מוּעָטִים״ כו׳.

These incompletely righteous individuals constitute the rank of many tzaddikim throughout all the generations, as the Talmud states, "There are eighteen thousand righteous individuals who stand before the Holy One, blessed be He" (Sukka 45b). Yet with regard to the rank of complete tzaddik, Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai said, "I have seen lofty men, literally,'men of ascent,' who are truly righteous, and they are few…." In reference to the "eighteen thousand individuals who stand before the Holy One, blessed be He," the author of the Tanya states that the Talmud is speaking of incomplete tzaddikim. But with regard to the complete tzaddik, the Talmud quotes Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai as declaring that "they are few." The talmudic statement said in the name of Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai continues: "If they number one thousand, I and my son are among them. If they number one hundred, I and my son are among them; and if they number two, I and my son are they." Thus, Rabbi Shimon is not sure that there are more than two complete tzaddikim in his entire generation.

שֶׁלָּכֵן נִקְרָאִים בְּנֵי עֲלִיָּה, שֶׁמְּהַפְּכִין הָרַע וּמַעֲלִים אוֹתוֹ לִקְדוּשָּׁה,

It is for this reason that they are referred to as "men of ascent," because they transform evil and cause it to ascend to holiness, These lofty men, or "men of ascent," refer to those who have achieved more than mastery over evil. They have actually effected its ascent, having transformed the very composition of their souls so that the kelippa has been elevated to holiness.

כִּדְאִיתָא בַּזֹּהַר בַּהַקְדָּמָה (חלק א ד, א) שֶׁכְּשֶׁרָצָה רַבִּי חִיָּיא לַעֲלוֹת לְהֵיכַל רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן יוֹחַאי שָׁמַע קָלָא נָפֵיק וְאָמַר: "מַאן מִנְּכוֹן דִּי חֲשׁוֹכָא מְהַפְּכָן לִנְהוֹרָא וְטָעֲמִין מְרִירוּ לְמִתְקָא עַד לָא יֵיתוּן הָכָא״ וכו׳.

as stated in the introduction to the Zohar (1:4a), that when Rabbi Ḥiyya wished to ascend to the heavenly chamber of Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai, he heard a voice issue forth and say, "Those among you who, prior to entering here, transform darkness to light and bitter tastes to sweetness, only such an individual may enter the heavenly chamber of Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai." Rabbi Shimon was the quintessential complete tzaddik. Those who wished to enter his domain in heaven had to exhibit a similar quality. They had to be more than an incomplete tzaddik; they had to be among the lofty men, the "men of ascent," who transform the evil within their soul into good, the darkness into light, the bitterness into sweetness. These tzaddikim do not merely sweeten the bitter; they transform its bitterness into a new kind of sweetness. They do not merely drive out the darkness; they convert darkness into light. One who can transform darkness into light has no darkness in his world. The temptations and pains of the world no longer exist for him. For him, no concealment exists, no partition that separates the Divine from the earthly, no gap between the physical and the spiritual. Rabbi Levi Yitzḥak of Berditchev once visited one of the hasidic masters of his time. The hasidim had been notified in advance of the prestigious guest and were enjoined to treat him with due reverence. Rabbi Levi Yitzḥak arrived for prayers wearing his tallit and tefillin, but instead of joining in the prayers, he asked after the whereabouts of the kitchen, where he inquired about what was being cooked and chatted at length with the simple folk employed there. The hasidim wanted to chastise the guest for his improper behavior but waited until the prayers were over. Then, to their amazement, they saw their Rebbe take the visitor, whom they had considered to be the most unworthy and inferior, sit with him, and eat with him out of the same plate, the greatest of honors. Their Rebbe then told them, "What this man does, he does in higher worlds." The distinctions between the lowly and the lofty among ordinary people, between eating because one is hungry and one's spiritual activities vis-à-vis the higher worlds (if one is indeed on that level), do not apply to the complete tzaddik. The complete tzaddik is one whose every action reaches the higher worlds, to which he elevates the lowest and most mundane elements of material life, which is why he and the likes of him are called "men of ascent." With regard to this level, attained only by the rare perfect individual, the prophet Jeremiah said, "If you return, I will restore you, you will stand before Me, and if you extract that which is precious from the worthless, you shall be like My mouth…" (Jer. 15:19). The ability to "extract that which is precious from the worthless" is the unique level of "men of ascent" – that of the complete tzaddik.

וְעוֹד נִקְרָאִים בְּנֵי עֲלִיָּה, מִפְּנֵי שֶׁגַּם עֲבוֹדָתָם בִּבְחִינַת "וַעֲשֵׂה טוֹב״, בְּקִיּוּם הַתּוֹרָה וּמִצְוֹתֶיהָ, הוּא לְצוֹרֶךְ גָּבוֹהַּ וּמַעְלָה מַעְלָה עַד רוּם הַמַּעֲלוֹת, וְלֹא כְּדֵי לְדָבְקָה בוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ בִּלְבַד

Furthermore, completely righteous individuals are referred to as lofty men, or "men of ascent," because also their divine service pertaining to doing good, in their fulfillment of the Torah and its commandments, is for the sake of the Most High and ascends above and beyond, to the pinnacle of all heights, and is not solely in order to cleave to God, Two reasons are given as to why the completely righteous are known as "men of ascent." The first addressed the work of the righteous in relation to evil and darkness, which the complete tzaddik elevates to a state of good and light. The second reason, which will be explained further below, addresses how he relates to good. Since his aim is not just to cleave to God but rather to give Him the ultimate gratification, he elevates that good to an even higher place "above and beyond, to the pinnacle of all heights" – not merely to a higher level, but beyond all levels. He elevates it to a realm where nothing, not even he himself, exists. It is a realm in which only the Divine may be found. This is another distinction between the complete tzaddik and the incomplete tzaddik. The complete tzaddik is one whose yearnings, dreams, and desires are directed, not inward to his own spiritual development, but upward – to God alone. That which is holy is his pleasure and his entire world. He is at such a high level that the basis of his service of God is God Himself. He, the servant, is completely irrelevant. His endeavor to cleave to God is not motivated by his own desire to achieve this state but by the fact that God desires it.

לְרַוּוֹת צִמְאוֹן נַפְשָׁם הַצְּמֵאָה לַה', כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: "הוֹי כָּל צָמֵא לְכוּ לַמַּיִם״ (ישעיה נה, א),

to quench their parched souls, thirsting for God, as it states, "Ho, everyone thirsty, go to water" (Isa. 55:1), and as explained elsewhere (chap. 40). In a later chapter, the author of the Tanya explains the verse "Ho, everyone thirsty, go to water" as referring to anyone who is thirsty for God, and the way to quench that thirst is to go to the waters of Torah. The study of Torah and the fulfillment of its commandments are the only way to quench the soul's thirst for God. The complete tzaddik, however, is beyond all that. He studies Torah and fulfills the commandments not to slake his own thirst for God but for God's sake, because God desires that he do so. The complete tzaddik is not only devoid of all material ambitions; he is free of all spiritual ambition as well. His objective is not the elevation of his own spiritual self or the sublime pleasure of being close to God, but only the satisfaction of the divine will.

אֶלָּא כִּדְפֵירְשׁוּ בַּתִּיקּוּנִים (הקדמת תיקוני זהר): "אֵיזֶהוּ חָסִיד – הַמִּתְחַסֵּד עִם קוֹנוֹ. עִם קֵן דִּילֵיהּ, לְיַיחֲדָא קֻדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא וּשְׁכִינְתֵּיהּ בַּתַּחְתּוֹנִים״.

Rather, their divine service is in accordance with the explanation stated in the Tikkunei Zohar (1b): "Who is a pious person? One who is benevolent toward his Maker [ Kono ], meaning, with his Source, literally "his Nest" [ken dileih ], which entails unifying the Holy One, blessed be He, and His Divine Presence in the lower worlds." In the Talmud, the term ḥasid, literally a benevolent person, is used to connote an individual of great spiritual stature, equivalent to the complete tzaddik described in the Tanya. The Tikkunei Zohar explains that a ḥasid is "one who is benevolent toward his Maker," one whose every act is an act of benevolence toward God, whose motive in everything he does is not for his own sake, to achieve attachment and closeness with God, but to fulfill the divine will. For the complete tzaddik, the fulfillment of this divine wish eclipses everything else. He completely forgets his own soul's cravings and desires, indeed his very sense of self, in the endeavor "to unite the Holy One, blessed be He, and His Divine Presence."

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בְּרַעְיָא מְהֵימְנָא פָּרָשַׁת תֵּצֵא (חלק ג רפא, א): "כִּבְרָא דְּאִשְׁתַּדֵּל בָּתַר אֲבוֹי וְאִימֵּיהּ דְּרָחֵים לוֹן יַתִּיר מִגַּרְמֵיהּ וְנַפְשֵׁיהּ וְרוּחֵיהּ וְנִשְׁמָתֵיהּ כו׳ וּמָסַר גַּרְמֵיהּ לְמִיתָה עֲלַיְיהוּ לְמִיפְרַק לוֹן״ כו׳, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְבָּאֵר בְּמָקוֹם אַחֵר

It is also written in Raya Meheimna , Parashat Ki Tetze (3:281a), describing the service of the righteous, "As a son who tends to his father and mother, loving them more than himself, more than his nefesh , ruaḥ , and neshama …and gives up his own life for their sakes to redeem them from captivity…," as is also explained elsewhere (chap. 41). A complete tzaddik is one who abnegates not only the desires of his animal soul but also those of his divine soul, because the only desire that drives him is that which God desires. Such self-sacrifice is greater than physical martyrdom, when a person sacrifices his life for a certain cause. When a person gives up his life, he is sacrificing his body, but when a person forgoes the positive and holy desires of his soul for the sake of Heaven, the sacrifice is much greater. At one level, a tzaddik desires to withdraw from all worldly affairs and cleave to God, but at a higher level, he is prepared to waive even this desire because God wants him to be in the world. This is the highest form of self-sacrifice, sacrifice of the divine soul's desire to enjoy the closeness of God.

[וּשְׁנֵיהֶם עוֹלִים בְּקָנֶה אֶחָד,

(These two explanations go hand in hand, Both reasons given here regarding why complete tzaddikim are called "men of ascent" go hand in hand. That they transform evil into good and darkness to light, elevating them to the realm of holiness, and that their only motivation is toward Heaven alone without any self-consideration, even for the divine soul, are in essence two aspects of the same truth.

כִּי עַל יְדֵי הַבֵּירוּרִים שֶׁמְּבָרְרִים מִנּוֹגַהּ

since by means of the refinement achieved through distilling the kelippa of noga , Man's service of God in the physical world consists primarily of what kabbalists call the work of refinement, the extraction of the kernel of divine vitality within the kelippa of noga and its elevation to holiness. The mitzvot, physical deeds involving physical objects, are performed within the realm of kelippat noga, the realm of the mundane. They reveal the holiness within noga, extracting it from its husk and elevating it to its source in God. This is what happens when a physical item is made into an object of holiness, such as a tallit, shofar, or lulav. It is also what happens to the person's very body and animal soul when he directs his physical life toward service of the Divine.

מַעֲלִים מַיִין נוּקְבִין וְנַעֲשִׂים יִחוּדִים עֶלְיוֹנִים לְהוֹרִיד מַיִין דְּכוּרִין,

one causes feminine waters to ascend, effecting supernal unifications, and thereby causing masculine waters to descend. The most primary and basic division in reality is that which is between upper and lower, a division that appears in the very first stages of the Creation in the form of the separation of the upper waters from the lower waters. The upper waters belong to the heavenly reality and are what the kabbalists call "masculine waters," waters that provide. The kabbalists call the lower waters, belonging to the lower reality, that of the created worlds, "feminine waters," waters that receive. The act of Creation entailed the separation of the two, and its ultimate purpose is their reunification. But in order for the upper waters to descend and permeate the lower waters, the lower waters must first ascend. When the lower waters surge upward, when they well up in yearning toward their separated mate, the upper waters are drawn downward to effuse divine influence in the world, until complete unification is achieved. In view of this, the aforementioned work of refinement, in which a person takes a piece of the world and reveals its inherent holiness, is a rising of the lower waters. At that moment, a spark is unleashed, a flash of holiness that rises to its source on high. When the lower waters ascend, they bring about a supernal union. They unite with the upper waters, stimulating them to meet their ascent with a descent of their own.

שֶׁהֵם הֵם מֵימֵי הַחֲסָדִים שֶׁבְּכָל מִצְוָה וּמִצְוָה מֵרמ״ח מִצְוֹת עֲשֵׂה, שֶׁכּוּּלָּן הֵן בְּחִינַת חֲסָדִים וּמַיִין דְּכוּרִין, דְּהַיְינוּ הַמְשָׁכַת קְדוּשַּׁת אֱלֹהוּתוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ מִלְמַעְלָה לְמַטָּה לְהִתְלַבֵּשׁ בַּתַּחְתּוֹנִים, כְּמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְבָּאֵר בְּמָקוֹם אַחֵר].

Those masculine waters are none other than the waters of kindness within each and every one of the 248 positive commandments, all of which embody the quality of kindness and the masculine waters, that is, the drawing down of God's holiness from above to below to become clothed in the lower worlds, as explained elsewhere [ chap. 41].) There are two aspects to a mitzva. The first is its elevating effect: The mitzva has an effect on the "lower waters," upon the profane world of kelippat noga. The person performing the mitzva takes a material substance, a part of the lower realm of creation, refines it, wholly or partially, and elevates it to the realm of holiness. In this sense, the mitzva act is an ascension of the feminine waters. But this is only one aspect of a mitzva. The elevation of material matter, by which the physical world raises itself on tiptoe in an effort to reach for the heavens, is met by a supernal response, a descent of masculine waters, an effusion of divine lifegiving sustenance to the lower realm of creation. The essence of a mitzva, then, is a joining, or tzavta, of the terrestrial with the supernal, a collaboration of the human and the Divine in a single act, the act of the mitzva. The mitzva is more than an ascent of the lower reality. It is also a spurt of divinity from above, in which the divine immanence is revealed within the physical reality. In this way, the supernal and the lowly are joined and united. This confluence of forces constitutes the union of the Holy One and His Divine Presence implicit in every mitzva. Every act of Torah study, prayer, or charity is an ascent of "feminine waters" evoking a descent of "masculine waters." This dynamic is also referred to as "an awakening from below that evokes an awakening from above." The part that the lower realm plays, that of elevation of the mundane to the higher realm, constitutes the creation of a vessel. The vessel is made up of will, of a conscious desire on the part of lower waters that says, "We want to ascend." Then comes the flow and descent of the upper waters, which unite with the lower waters, completing the mitzva. A mitzva is not just a human action. It is a revelation of the Divine, a flash of divinity in the world. The physical act creates the body of the mitzva, the vessel, the physical conductor that attracts and captures the flash of divinity from above. So the two interpretations of the phrase benei aliya, literally, "men of ascent"– that the complete tzaddik elevates material existence and that his concern lies not with his self-development but with the divine endeavor of "uniting the Holy One with His Divine Presence" – are not contradictory but complementary. The occupation of the tzaddik in this world, the process of transformation that he generates, is itself the union of the immanent and transcendent aspects of the Divine. The perfect and absolute nature of his elevation of kelippa is necessarily for the sake of God and not for his own sake. The divine service of one who is not a complete tzaddik might be an escape from the material, in which the person takes things from the world and runs off with them toward closeness with God. But the complete tzaddik never runs away from the world, because he takes everything in the world and raises it to holiness. He is not satisfied with gratifying his own soul's craving for God but elevates everything with which he comes into contact, because everything he does is an act of transformation. This chapter discusses two categories of tzaddik