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Likutei Amarim

Chapter 41

בְּרַם, צָרִיךְ לִהְיוֹת לְזִכָּרוֹן תָּמִיד רֵאשִׁית הָעֲבוֹדָה וְעִיקָּרָהּ וְשָׁרְשָׁהּ.

However, a person must constantly bear in mind the beginning of divine service and its essence and root. Although the ways of serving God rise progressively higher, a person must always remember the starting point, the essence and root of divine service, regardless of which particular level he happens to be on.

וְהוּא, כִּי אַף שֶׁהַיִּרְאָה הִיא שֹׁרֶשׁ לְ'סוּר מֵרָע'

This is as follows: that even though the fear of God is the root of turning away from evil, Distancing oneself from evil, at any level, is basically an expression of the attribute of fear. Fear in general is a form of distancing, of shrinking into oneself, and of withdrawal. Accordingly, fear is a quality of a person's spirit that is at the foundation of his ability to turn aside from evil, to refrain and distance himself from wrong.

וְהָאַהֲבָה לְ'וַעֲשֵׂה טוֹב',

and the love of God is the basis for doing good, Essentially, a person fulfills the commandments and does God's will because he possesses a love of God. Love is the desire to come close, to be together, and the way to come close and bond with God is through fulfilling the commandments. The word for "commandment," mitzva, is etymologically related to the Hebrew word tzavta, which means "connection." Thus, the love of God is the root of the ability of the soul to perform the positive commandments, while the fear of God is the root of the ability of the soul to observe the negative commandments.

אַף עַל פִּי כֵן, לֹא דַּי לְעוֹרֵר הָאַהֲבָה לְבַדָּהּ לְ'וַעֲשֵׂה טוֹב'.

nevertheless, solely awakening one's love of God in order to induce doing good does not suffice. Even though it would seem that the root of performing a mitzva is love and not fear, love is not enough for sustainable fulfillment of positive mitzvot. If a person only has love as his intention as he performs a mitzva, without fear, his intention will be faulty. Love alone, especially the love of God, is essentially lacking. Love is the movement of coming close to God. But if it is not preceded by a sense of being distant, then what kind of "coming close" is it? Is this true love, or just some intellectual and emotional diversion? People play around with love, although they do not play around with fear. When a person is merely playing with concepts and with feelings, he lacks a basic foundation of a full life: commitment. Such a love is merely a short-lived "game"; it is not serious. When one "plays" in this way with God, not only is it not serious, but it holds no meaning whatsoever. Such a person is performing the mitzvot because he wants to come closer to God. But if at the basis of his actions he has no concept of obligation and acceptance of the yoke of God's kingship, of God as a great and awesome King who commands the mitzvot, then in essence what he is doing is not a mitzva. All that he does is more like an amusing game. There is another, more serious flaw involved in this kind of service. Love creates closeness, and therefore a person whose connection to God is only that of love is unlikely to experience a sense of the acceptance of the yoke and obligation of this relationship, because he has such a strong sense of familiarity with God. Such a person will almost certainly neglect some essential elements of the mitzvot, and will carry out others not as exactly as he should. He behaves this way not because he does not care but because out of his love and his approach to the purpose of these matters, he does not take all of the small details into consideration. In contrast, when a person serves God out of fear, he always pays attention to the smallest details. He will do exactly as he is told, without making any changes. The foregoing is somewhat parallel to the dynamic of human relationships. Some people will go above and beyond what they are told to do, but do not do exactly what they were asked, whereas others will not go above and beyond what they are told to do, because they do not know what else to do, and they do not want to do anything else. Nevertheless, they succeed in doing exactly as they are told.

וּלְפָחוֹת צָרִיךְ לְעוֹרֵר תְּחִלָּה הַיִּרְאָה הַטִּבְעִית הַמְסוּתֶּרֶת בְּלֵב כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל,

Rather, at the least, in order to do good, a person must first awaken the natural fear that is hidden in the heart of every Jew, The proper order is that fear comes first, without any other faculty of the soul preceding it. This fear is the natural and hidden fear that exists in the heart of every Jew. The revelation of that fear in a person's heart is in accordance with the nature of his heart and the character of his soul. Therefore, the demand for the arousal of fear in a person's heart is necessarily the demand for a minimal measure of emotional capacity. It is not realistic to require everyone to reach the level of fear possessed by the angels. Not everyone is capable of reaching a level of clear perception and emotion in which all his bones shake from fear of God. However, every Jew can awaken and discover within himself the innate sense of fear that is concealed in his heart, which stems from the very fact of his being a Jew.

שֶׁלֹּא לִמְרוֹד בְּמֶלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא, כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

which guards him so that he does not rebel against the King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He, as stated above (chaps. 19, 38). This basic fear literally acts upon every single Jew. There are many real-life examples in which a person, even if he is a simple or despicable individual, reached a crisis point and believed himself to be standing on the brink of rebellion and severance from God, and he then discovered within himself a fear of separation from God, and as a result he took action to the extent of actual self-sacrifice.

שֶׁתְּהֵא בְּהִתְגַּלּוּת לִבּוֹ אוֹ מוֹחוֹ עַל כָּל פָּנִים,

This fear must become manifest in his heart, or at least in his mind. It is not enough that this fear exists concealed within the heart and that it emerges only in exceptional cases of self-sacrifice. Rather, a person must constantly bring it forth to be exposed, so that it will be an experience that influences his day-to-day life. Even if a person cannot cause fear to impact his soul in the ideal way, as a palpable emotion within him, he can at any rate meditate on the notion that it is proper and necessary to fear God and to behave accordingly.

דְּהַיְינוּ לְהִתְבּוֹנֵן בְּמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ עַל כָּל פָּנִים

That entails a person's contemplating, at least in his thoughts, In order to awaken this fear within himself, a person must at least engage in mental contemplation, which involves thinking about a particular idea repeatedly and from every angle until it becomes tangible. This is a spiritual process at the end of which a person no longer needs to consciously think about the matter, because it has already become so clear and real to him, as though he literally sees it before his eyes, since it has become embedded in his consciousness.

גְדוּלַּת אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא וּמַלְכוּתוֹ אֲשֶׁר הִיא מַלְכוּת כָּל עוֹלָמִים, עֶלְיוֹנִים וְתַחְתּוֹנִים. וְאִיהוּ מְמַלֵּא כָּל עָלְמִין וְסוֹבֵב כָּל עָלְמִין, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: "הֲלֹא אֶת הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת הָאָרֶץ אֲנִי מָלֵא" (ירמיה כו, כד),

the greatness of the Infinite One, blessed be He, and His kingship, which is the kingship of all worlds, higher and lower. A person should also contemplate that He fills all worlds and encompasses all worlds. As the verse states, "Do I not fill the heavens and the earth?" (Jer. 23:24), This process, whereby a person goes from thinking about something to possessing a tangible consciousness of it, operates in all areas of life, and this is equally true in the realm of God. When one contemplates the greatness of the Infinite One, who is the Ruler of all worlds, contemplating that He is the power of life within all worlds and their particulars, and He surrounds all worlds, transcending all worlds and all of the particulars within them.

וּמַנִּיחַ הָעֶלְיוֹנִים וְתַחְתּוֹנִים וּמְיַיחֵד מַלְכוּתוֹ עַל עַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל בִּכְלָל, וְעָלָיו בִּפְרָט.

and he should contemplate that nevertheless God disregards the higher and lower worlds in order to confer His kingship upon His nation, Israel, as a whole, and upon him in particular. After a person contemplates this aspect of the Divine exaltedness, of God's greatness, might, and beauty, after he has an awareness of the scope of that greatness, he should contemplate the other aspect, which is that nevertheless "He sets aside the upper and lower universes" and "confers His kingship upon His nation, Israel, as a whole, and upon him in particular," upon this person who is engaged in this contemplation. This contemplation consists of two parts. One is the contemplation of the infinite greatness of the Divine. The second part involves contemplating the special, unequaled connection between the Divine and the individual. God so to speak disregards all the greatness of the higher and lower worlds and deals only with the Jewish people, and in particular with the individual currently contemplating this fact.

כִּי חַיָּיב אָדָם לוֹמַר: "בִּשְׁבִילִי נִבְרָא הָעוֹלָם" (סנהדרין פרק ד משנה ה).

We see that this last assertion is true, because our Rabbis teach that a person is obligated to say, "The world was created for me" (Mishna Sanhedrin 4:5). From one perspective, a person should see himself as the center and essence of the universe. "I and He" – that is the reality. The human self and the divine self unite with each other, and God is currently involved only with me. This is not an expression of human egoism, but is a part of divine service. The service is not to regard oneself as the center of the world. Rather, one's task is to bear the responsibility that is implied by this. As the center of the world, the individual is the axis around which all reality revolves. All creatures and all actions come toward him from all directions, and he determines their significance and the direction in which they are to flow onward. This is what "the world was created for me" means: not that everything was made for me, but that I am responsible for all of reality and everything that happens in it. If I am the center of the world, this means that I and my actions, for better or worse, determine the nature of all reality.

וְהוּא גַּם הוּא מְקַבֵּל עָלָיו מַלְכוּתוֹ, לִהְיוֹת מֶלֶךְ עָלָיו, וּלְעָבְדוֹ וְלַעֲשׂוֹת רְצוֹנוֹ בְּכָל מִינֵי עֲבוֹדַת עֶבֶד.

Subsequently, he accepts upon himself God's sovereignty, that He will be King over him, which entails his serving God and fulfilling His will by performing all aspects of a servant's duties. After a person contemplates the notion that "the world was created for me," he reaches the conclusion that he must do something. It does not matter what others will do, nor whether they are good or evil, nor whether they are present or absent, because in this regard the entire world is merely the backdrop, merely the environment in which he exists. The same applies to his relationship with God, regarding which he must think: Everyone else in the world is a helper, an attendant, but only I am God's servant in the world. God created the world for me. I am its center and its reason for being, and therefore its existence depends on me. The existence of the entire kingdom hinges on me accepting the yoke of the kingdom, serving Him and doing His will. Until now, the author of the Tanya has discussed contemplation that leads to accepting the yoke of God's kingship, namely a simple acceptance of His yoke; to serve God and do whatever is His will, even without understanding and without the emotion of love or fear. The author of the Tanya will now discuss contemplation that draws a sense of fear into the heart.

"וְהִנֵּה ה' נִצָּב עָלָיו" (בראשית כח, יג) וּ"מְלֹא כָל הָאָרֶץ כְּבוֹדוֹ" (ישעיה ו, ג),

He reflects that "behold, the Lord stands over him" (Gen. 28:13), and "He fills the entire world with His glory" (Isa. 6:3), This contemplation not only concerns the infinitely great and distant God, who is above and beyond all reality, but also the divine essence that permeates all worlds. This refers to the divine sovereignty, which does not operate from a distance through written directives, as it were. Rather, God Himself stands directly over the universe.

וּמַבִּיט עָלָיו וּבוֹחֵן כְּלָיוֹת וָלֵב אִם עוֹבְדוֹ כָּרָאוּי.

scrutinizing him, examining the thoughts of his innards and the emotions of his heart to determine whether he is serving Him properly. God examines not only a person's actions, but his innermost feelings as well. When a person genuinely feels that God is standing over him, he can no longer make excuses such as "I'm nobody," "I'm unimportant," or, "God doesn't care whether or not I put on tefillin today." That is because God is truly standing over him, just as He stood over Jacob, and God's glory fills the entire world.

וְעַל כֵּן צָרִיךְ לַעֲבוֹד לְפָנָיו בְּאֵימָה וּבְיִרְאָה כְּעוֹמֵד לִפְנֵי הַמֶּלֶךְ.

Therefore, a person must serve God with trepidation and fear, as though he were standing before a king. This point of contemplation is the starting point at which a Jew must begin his thoughts, meaning that this is how a person views his situation. He is not like someone sitting in an inner room and doing something which will have an effect elsewhere. He is performing his divine service now. He is standing before the King. The King is present here and now, and is watching him. The emotional result of this contemplation of serving God with trepidation and fear is that he actually feels trepidation and fear, triggered by the thought that he is standing before the King.

וְיַעֲמִיק בְּמַחֲשָׁבָה זוֹ

He should delve into this thought It has already been said that contemplation in general is not just a passing thought or momentary reflection on a particular subject. Rather, it is a concentrated deepening of one's thoughts. The purpose of engaging in contemplation is to consciously create a clear, palpable image that will impact the most intimate, personal aspects of the soul; its experience of love and fear. In and of itself, this topic that a person focuses on is universal, it is a notion that anyone can reflect upon. However, arriving at a particular image specific to himself, which is neither uniform nor fixed, yet truly touches and connects with his soul, is possible only when he concentrates and deepens his thinking. There is no uniform technique with regard to how and where to delve deeper in contemplation. Each individual has his own approach in accordance with his nature, inclinations, and education.

וְיַאֲרִיךְ בָּהּ

and do so at length, The deepening of a thought in order to give it permanence and tangibility must be done over a period of time; a fleeting reflection is not enough. The necessary contemplation, therefore, consists of two things: deepening the thought and extending its duration.

כְּפִי יְכוֹלֶת הַשָּׂגַת מוֹחוֹ וּמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ

in accordance with the capacity of his mind and thought to comprehend, Contemplation, especially of these issues, requires serious effort. It is not enough to have a particular idea about a matter, or a general thought or understanding of the topic. Rather, a person must delve into it, in order to continuously try to expand his capacity to comprehend, to enter into its inner being in order to understand it to the best of his ability – the whole, as well as its component parts – in order to instill the abstract image in his mind as clearly and concretely as possible. This requires a great deal of work.

וּכְפִי הַפְּנַאי שֶׁלּוֹ,

and in accordance with his available time, Just as there is a limit to a person's capacity for intellectual attainment, so too there is a limit to the time each person is able to do so. There is no set expectation for each one. Rather, what he can accomplish depends on the amount of time that he is able to devote to the task. After all, these are not topics that one can exhaust within a set amount of time. Rather, they are topics that a person can delve into more and more, spending more and more time on them. They never end. As time goes by, new aspects emerge for him to consider. The deeper he goes, the more depth he discovers. Once again, these words are addressed not only to exceptional individuals but to those who fit the definition of a beinoni. A beinoni is a person who is, spiritually speaking, an ordinary person. Therefore, just as he needs to be told that he must engage in contemplation, so too – because of this fact – he needs to be reminded that there are limitations, that he must not allow himself to become immersed in this undertaking and prolong it indefinitely.

לִפְנֵי עֵסֶק הַתּוֹרָה

prior to engaging in Torah study The proper time to engage in contemplation is before learning Torah. Before a person studies Torah, he should devote some time to contemplating the essence of the Torah and the One who gives the Torah.

אוֹ הַמִּצְוָה, כְּמוֹ לִפְנֵי לְבִישַׁת טַלִּית וּתְפִילִּין.

or a mitzva, such as before donning tallit and tefillin . Before a person performs a mitzva, he should take time to contemplate the fact that God is standing over him, that God has commanded him to fulfill this commandment, and that He scrutinizes the thoughts and emotions of his heart to determine whether a person is serving Him properly. In the past, there were hasidim who would stand with a tallit wrapped around their shoulders for hours on end contemplating these matters. Some stayed that way for the majority of the day, because they needed to reach an understanding of certain concepts before they could put on the tallit and tefillin and begin to pray. There was once a hasid who was asked why he always arrived late for the prayer services. He answered, referring to the first words that a Jew recites upon awakening each morning, "It is because of the Modeh Ani prayer. When I wake up in the morning and recite'Modeh ani lefanekha,''I am thankful before You,' I begin to think: Who am'I'? What does'thankful' mean? What does'before You' mean? And before I know it, half the day has passed by." Until now, the author of the Tanya has discussed one particular topic that a person contemplates. Contemplating this topic arouses a person's most fundamental level of fear of God, in which he recognizes that God is the King, that He is standing above him, and that He examines what is in his innards and heart. This contemplation constitutes the initial, immediate, and generalized perception of a person in God's presence. Next, the author of the Tanya will discuss the contemplation of more specific topics: the relations between God and man in the realm of mitzvot and the revelation of Godliness within them, and he will then discuss in much greater detail specific mitzvot, and the aspects of the soul that relate to their observance.

וְגַם יִתְבּוֹנֵן אֵיךְ שֶׁאוֹר אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא, הַסּוֹבֵב כָּל עָלְמִין וּמְמַלֵּא כָּל עָלְמִין, הוּא רָצוֹן הָעֶלְיוֹן, הוּא מְלוּבָּשׁ בְּאוֹתִיּוֹת וְחָכְמַת הַתּוֹרָה אוֹ בְּצִיצִית וּתְפִילִּין אֵלּוּ, וּבִקְרִיאָתוֹ אוֹ בִּלְבִישָׁתוֹ הוּא מַמְשִׁיךְ אוֹרוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ עָלָיו,

He should also contemplate how the light of the Infinite One, blessed be He, which encompasses all worlds and fills all worlds, that light being the supernal will, is clothed in the letters and wisdom of the Torah that he is studying or in these tzitzit and tefillin that he is donning. Thus, by reciting the words of Torah or donning the tallit or tefillin, he draws God's light onto himself, The supernal will actualizes and sustains all worlds. A person should contemplate the following questions: What exactly are the Torah and mitzvot? What is the significance of engaging in them? The answer to this is that when a person performs a practical commandment such as donning tzitzit or tefillin, or when he learns a chapter of Mishna or a verse of the Torah, doing so leads to the revelation of an infinite essence within him.

דְּהַיְינוּ עַל חֵלֶק אֱלוֹהַּ מִמַּעַל שֶׁבְּתוֹךְ גּוּפוֹ, לִיכָּלֵל וְלִיבָּטֵל בְּאוֹרוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ.

that is, onto his soul, the portion of God above that is within his body, so that his soul may become incorporated and subsumed in God's light. When a person performs a mitzva, he attains, on the highest level that he can, unity with the divine light. Each mitzva is a kind of window, a particular point of view regarding the Divine. The person who performs the mitzva binds himself in this way to the divine essence. In this sense, the tefillin and Torah embody this connection only while the person is performing the mitzva. In order for the union between the human "I" and the supernal will to be formed, a person needs to complete the circuit. This is analogous to the spinal cord. The spinal cord passes through the vertebrae to make a living connection between the upper part of the human organism and its other parts. The spinal cord cannot exist without the vertebrae, and if one of the vertebrae breaks or even moves slightly, the whole structure may be damaged. In the same way, the object comprising a mitzva, such as tzitzit, Sabbath candles, or the letters that make up the Torah and prayers, corresponds to the vertebrae. All that the person does is connect the vertebrae-like conduits, or electrical wires, to connect the current between the upper part, which is the infinite light, and the lower part, which is the divine soul in the human body. This idea is found in a verse: "Before the silver cord is severed" (Eccles. 12:6). The cord of silver, kesef, is the cord of yearning, kisufim, between the upper and the lower, the source of life above, and the place where the soul has been embedded below. Through this silver cord, the yearning soul is connected to the Creator with the infinite light. The soul on one end and the divine light on the other join together in the mitzva, or in the words of Torah or prayer, and thus they establish the "silver" (yearning) connection.

וְדֶרֶךְ פְּרָט בִּתְפִילִּין – לִיבָּטֵל וְלִיכָּלֵל בְּחִינוֹת חָכְמָתוֹ וּבִינָתוֹ שֶׁבְּנַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלוֹקִית, בִּבְחִינוֹת חָכְמָתוֹ וּבִינָתוֹ שֶׁל אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא,

To give a specific example, a person should perform the mitzva of donning tefillin with the intent that the attributes of wisdom and understanding within his divine soul will become subsumed and incorporated into the attributes of the wisdom and understanding of the light of Ein Sof , blessed be He, The intention behind the mitzva of tefillin is that the wisdom and understanding of the person should be subsumed within God's attributes of wisdom and understanding.

הַמְלוּבָּשׁוֹת דֶּרֶךְ פְּרָט בְּפָרְשִׁיּוֹת "קַדֶּשׁ" (שמות יג, ב-י), "וְהָיָה כִּי יְבִיאֲךָ" (שם יא-טז),

which are enclothed specifically in the passages, "Sanctify to Me..." (Ex. 13:2–10) and "It shall be when the Lord will take you…" (Ex. 13:11–16), that are written in the tefillin. The upper attributes of wisdom and understanding are enclothed in two of the four passages found in the tefillin. The passage that begins "Sanctify to Me every firstborn" (Ex. 13:2) alludes to wisdom, because sanctity and the firstborn are matters that pertain to wisdom (Likkutei Torah, Deut. 6c). The passage that begins, "It shall be when the Lord will take you" alludes to understanding, for the verse has the phrase, "When your son asks you tomorrow, saying: What is this?" (Ex. 13:14), and this pertains to contemplation (Torah Or 86c). Moreover, the passage mentions the exodus from Egypt (Mitzrayim ), which corresponds to the limits (meitzarim ) of understanding.

דְּהַיְינוּ שֶׁלֹּא לְהִשְׁתַּמֵּשׁ בְּחָכְמָתוֹ וּבִינָתוֹ שֶׁבְּנַפְשׁוֹ בִּלְתִּי לַה' לְבַדּוֹ.

That is to say that he will subsume and incorporate the wisdom and understanding in his soul into the higher wisdom and understanding by not utilizing the former for any other purpose than solely serving God. In this sense, the tefillin are the conduit, the instrument for the connection between the divine powers of wisdom and understanding, and human wisdom and understanding. The meaning of this connection is that human wisdom and understanding are subsumed and incorporated into divine wisdom and understanding. "Incorporation" means that a person's wisdom and understanding, as well as the higher forces of wisdom and understanding, are engaged in the same matter, so to speak. At that moment, a person's wisdom and understanding are solely an expression of God's wisdom and understanding.

וְכֵן לִיבָּטֵל לִיכָּלֵל בְּחִינַת הַדַּעַת שֶׁבְּנַפְשׁוֹ הַכּוֹלֵל חֶסֶד וּגְבוּרָה, שֶׁהֵן יִרְאָה וְאַהֲבָה שֶׁבְּלִבּוֹ בִּבְחִינַת דַּעַת הָעֶלְיוֹן הַכּוֹלֵל חֶסֶד וּגְבוּרָה, הַמְלוּבָּשׁ בְּפָרְשִׁיּוֹת "שְׁמַע" (דברים ו, ד-ט) "וְהָיָה אִם שָׁמוֹעַ" (שם יא, יג-כא).

Likewise, a person should have in mind that the attribute of knowledge within his soul, which encompasses the attributes of kindness and restraint, which correspond to the fear and love in his heart, is subsumed and incorporated within the divine attribute of supernal knowledge, which encompasses the attributes of kindness and restraint. This attribute is enclothed in the passages of "Hear, Israel..." (Deut. 6:4–9) and "It shall be, if you shall heed…" (Deut. 11:13–21), which are also in the tefillin. Knowledge is an intellectual attribute, but it is a part of the intellect that encompasses kindness and restraint, which are at root the emotions of love and fear. These are incorporated within supernal knowledge, which is enclothed in the two additional passages found in the tefillin.

וְהַיְינוּ כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּשּׁוּלְחָן עָרוּךְ (אורח חיים סימן כה סעיף ה) לְשַׁעְבֵּד הַלֵּב וְהַמּוֹחַ כו'.

All of this corresponds to the statement of the Shulḥan Arukh (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 25:5), that when a person dons tefillin he should have the intent to subjugate his heart and mind to God, etc. When a person puts on tefillin, he should subjugate his heart and mind to serve God, or, as stated above in more kabbalistic terms, "become subsumed and incorporated." The essence of the mitzva of tefillin is attachment, and the meaning of this attachment, from the individual's perspective, is that he subjugates his heart and mind to God. Regarding the mind, this means that he thinks with God and does not lower his thoughts to other matters. And regarding the heart, it means that he does not employ his emotions for other matters, but only for God.

וּבַעֲטִיפַת צִיצִית יְכַוֵּין כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּזֹּהַר לְהַמְשִׁיךְ עָלָיו מַלְכוּתוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ, אֲשֶׁר הִיא מַלְכוּת כָּל עוֹלָמִים וכו', לְיַיחֲדָהּ עָלֵינוּ עַל יְדֵי מִצְוָה זוֹ. וְהוּא

Also when a person wraps himself in tzitzit , he should have the intent, as written in the Zohar , to draw upon himself God's sovereignty, which is His sovereignty over all worlds, etc. We do so in order to unify God's

כְּעִנְיַין "שׂוֹם תָּשִׂים עָלֶיךָ מֶלֶךְ" (דברים יז, טו).

sovereignty with ourselves through this mitzva. This corresponds to the commandment, "You shall place a king over you" (Deut. 17:15). The mitzva of tzitzit is the vessel through which a person draws the divine kingdom upon himself. As the Zohar states, when a person wraps himself in the tallit, he should have the intent to accept God's authority and place himself under God's sovereignty. Therefore, contemplation of the intent behind the mitzvot has two aspects. General contemplation before performing a mitzva does not relate to the essence of that particular mitzva, but to the act of performing a mitzva in general. A person should contemplate the One who commands us to perform mitzvot: God Himself. Likewise, he should contemplate the nature of a mitzva, which is a conduit through which the human soul unites with God's infinite light. There is also a specific contemplation, which relates to the intention of the particular mitzva. The person performing the mitzva must be aware of what he is doing. All mitzvot possess the same general content: They reveal the connection between the divine soul and God. This connection is revealed in a particular and unique way within each individual mitzva.

וַאֲזַי, אַף אִם בְּכָל זֹאת לֹא תִּפּוֹל עָלָיו אֵימָה וָפַחַד בְּהִתְגַּלּוּת לִבּוֹ, מִכָּל מָקוֹם, מֵאַחַר שֶׁמְּקַבֵּל עָלָיו מַלְכוּת שָׁמַיִם וּמַמְשִׁיךְ עָלָיו יִרְאָתוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ בְּהִתְגַּלּוּת מַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ וּרְצוֹנוֹ שֶׁבְּמוֹחוֹ,

Then, even if a person is still not overcome with conscious trepidation and fright in his heart, nevertheless, since he accepts upon himself the kingship of Heaven and draws the fear of God onto himself in his revealed thought and his will in his mind, Once a person has contemplated everything described above, if he still does not reach the level of a living, palpable sense of trepidation and fear in his heart, whether because he did not exert enough effort or whether because even with the requisite amount of effort he was unable to reach that level, his intention in itself and whatever change in his thought and emotions it brings about are acceptable; although he does not feel a sense of trepidation and fright, he nevertheless understands the concept that it is proper to feel such trepidation and fright. He thinks about it, identifies with it, and willingly accepts the effect that such trepidation would have on him. He is not afraid of emotion – that is not what is keeping him from experiencing trepidation. He understands that one should be afraid, and he accepts the yoke of God's kingship upon himself, as if he were experiencing the emotion of trepidation. This too is complete divine service, as will be discussed below.

וְקַבָּלָה זוֹ הִיא אֲמִתִּית בְּלִי שׁוּם סָפֵק, שֶׁהֲרֵי הִיא טֶבַע נַפְשׁוֹת כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל, שֶׁלֹּא לִמְרוֹד בַּמֶּלֶךְ הַקָּדוֹשׁ יִתְבָּרַךְ,

this acceptance is undoubtedly genuine. That is because the nature of every Jew's soul is to not rebel against the blessed, holy King. The acceptance of the yoke of God's kingship and the attendant behaviors as described directly above do not stem from a feeling of fear, but rather from a person's thoughts and decision that this is what should be felt. This thought has not reached the emotion of fear, not even on the simplest level of fearing God as the King and accepting his sovereignty. Therefore, one might think that this person's acceptance of the divine yoke is not genuine. So the author of the Tanya remarks that this intention to experience fear, where one accepts God's kingship upon himself, is in fact sincere and genuine. Since this attribute is found in the essence of the Jewish soul, even if a person forces it, it is not false. This is similar to the various abilities that human beings possess just by virtue of their being human beings. The ability to speak, for example, is one that every person is born with. Some children learn to speak quickly, while others need to work harder. Some learn on their own, and others need urging and training in order to reach the point where they speak. But since this capacity is a fundamental part of the human psyche, the learning and practicing merely transform potential into actual. This is not like some forms of training of animals, such as when a bird is taught to "talk." The bird is not truly speaking; it is imitating speech. But with regard to a person, even if he requires much urging to learn to speak, it is real speech; it is the realization of his potential. In the same way, the fear of rebelling against God is part of the Jewish potential. Like any potential, it too requires cultivation, practice, and sometimes a little pushing. When a person cultivates it a great deal, he can achieve a great deal. Some people used to work at this extensively, and they found their own fear of God impossible to endure. Reb Zusha once prayed to feel true fear of God, and when he received it, he crawled under his bed weeping for it to be taken away, because he could not stand the terror. While not everyone can be like Reb Zusha, anyone can reach true, sincere fear of God, the fear of being parted from Him, as is explained in several places in the Tanya. When a person accepts God's kingship in thought, this is not merely superficial. Rather, in the depths of his heart, in the root of his soul, he is truly connected to the heavenly kingdom. The act of thinking about accepting the yoke of Heaven leads to the revelation of the force within him. Even if that proper thought does not translate itself into this person's emotions, the thought reflects the sincere desire within the person to accept God's yoke. This desire motivates his acting as though he truly fears God.

הֲרֵי הַתּוֹרָה שֶׁלּוֹמֵד אוֹ הַמִּצְוָה שֶׁעוֹשֶׂה מֵחֲמַת קַבָּלָה זוֹ, וּמֵחֲמַת הַמְשָׁכַת הַיִּרְאָה שֶׁבְּמוֹחוֹ, נִקְרָאוֹת בְּשֵׁם 'עֲבוֹדָה שְׁלֵימָה', כְּכָל עֲבוֹדַת הָעֶבֶד לַאֲדוֹנוֹ וּמַלְכּוֹ.

Accordingly, the Torah that this person studies or the mitzva that he performs as an outcome of this acceptance of God's kingship and of drawing forth the fear of God in his mind are considered a perfect service, no different from any duty performed by a servant for his master and king. Even if there is no feeling of fear in a person's heart but only the thought of that fear in his mind, his is still a perfect service of God. That is because the essence of a Jew's divine service is like that which a servant performs for his master, as will be mentioned below.

מַה שֶּׁאֵין כֵּן אִם לוֹמֵד וּמְקַיֵּים הַמִּצְוָה בְּאַהֲבָה לְבַדָּהּ, כְּדֵי לְדָבְקָה בּוֹ, עַל יְדֵי תּוֹרָתוֹ וּמִצְוֹתָיו,

By contrast, if a person studies Torah or performs a mitzva out of love of God alone, in order to cleave to Him through His Torah and mitzvot, This is the case when a person desires to come closer to and cling to the object of his love. Learning Torah and performing mitzvot are the means of binding oneself to God.

אֵינָהּ נִקְרֵאת בְּשֵׁם 'עֲבוֹדַת הָעֶבֶד'.

that is not deemed the service of a servant. Although it is clear that this person is not simply amusing himself, but is engaging seriously in learning Torah and performing mitzvot in order to come closer to God and cling to Him, nevertheless, since there is no fear involved in his divine service, it is not deemed the service of a servant, which is the service resulting from accepting the divine yoke – a service that comes from fear.

וְהַתּוֹרָה אָמְרָה: "וַעֲבַדְתֶּם אֵת ה' אֱלֹהֵיכֶם" וגו' (שמות כג, כה) "וְאוֹתוֹ תַעֲבוֹדוּ" וגו' (דברים יג, ה).

He does not fulfill his duty, because the Torah stipulates, "You shall serve the Lord your God..." (Ex. 23:25) and "Him you shall serve" (Deut. 13:5). A person must serve God. He must accept divine service upon himself by accepting the yoke and by means of commitment and servitude, and not just as a voluntary expression of love.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּזֹּהַר [פָּרָשַׁת בְּהַר (קח, א)]: "כְּהַאי תּוֹרָא דְּיָהֲבִין עֲלֵיהּ עוֹל בְּקַדְמֵיתָא בְּגִין לְאַפְּקָא מִינֵּיהּ טַב לְעָלְמָא כו' הָכִי נַמִי אִיצְטְרִיךְ לְבַר נַשׁ לְקַבְּלָא עֲלֵיהּ עוֹל מַלְכוּת שָׁמַיִם בְּקַדְמַיְתָא כו' וְאִי הַאי לָא אִשְׁתַּכַּח גַּבֵּיהּ – לָא שָׁרְיָא בֵּיהּ קְדוּשָּׁה" כו'

As the Zohar states ( Parashat Behar 3:108a), "Just as a yoke must be placed upon the ox from the outset in order for the world to derive benefit from the ox…, so too a person must accept upon himself the yoke of Heaven's kingship from the outset…. If this acceptance is not found in him, holiness will not rest upon him.…" In order for an ox to plow, a yoke must first be placed upon it. The ox does not voluntarily do anything good and useful out of love for its master. Primarily, it works because it bears a yoke, because it fears its master and has no choice. So too a person must engage in divine service as a result of accepting God's kingship. If he engages in Torah and mitzvot but not from a mindset of accepting the yoke, the holiness of the Torah and the mitzvot will not be upon him.

[וּבְרַעֲיָא מְהֵימְנָא שָׁם דַּף קי"א עַמּוּד ב] שֶׁכָּל אָדָם צָרִיךְ לִהְיוֹת בִּשְׁתֵּי בְּחִינוֹת וּמַדְרֵגוֹת, וְהֵן: בְּחִינַת 'עֶבֶד' וּבְחִינַת 'בֵּן'.

Also it is written (in Raya Meheimna there, Zohar 111b) that every person must serve God in two distinct modes and levels: namely, the mode of servant and the mode of son. As stated in several places, there are two general modes, or levels, of serving God, two realms of connection between a human being and God. The first is that of a servant, as in, "For to Me the children of Israel are slaves" (Lev. 25:55). This means that a person serves God even without a reason and without understanding, like a servant, who does not need to know the reason for his master's commands but obeys them without a reason, even when he has no intrinsic desire to do so. The second mode is that of a son, as in "My firstborn son is Israel" (Ex. 4:22). This means that a person fulfills the commandments out of love. The intention behind his act is to do the will of his father, whom he loves. This does not mean that the two modes must exist separately, that some people are "servants" while others are "children." Rather, as stated in the liturgical hymn sung on Rosh HaShana, "whether as children or as servants," meaning that at certain times and in certain manifestations of our being, we are like children, and at other times, and in certain manifestations of our being, we are like slaves. As the Tanya states here, everyone should serve God with both of these modes and levels; a person should not be satisfied with only one of them. When a person worships God as a "servant" only, there is something lacking in his intent and spiritual attachment. However, when a person worships God as a "son" only, solely out of love and desire, something there is lacking as well. The "son" who acts out of love is really doing so for his own gratification, whereas the "servant," who acts out of simple acceptance of a yoke imposed upon him, does so for the sake of his Master. A person who lacks this aspect of servitude is missing something from his divine service. There is a flaw in the meaning and objective value of this service. Divine service must go beyond an individual's personal, selfish desires.

וְאַף דְּיֵשׁ 'בֵּן' שֶׁהוּא גַּם כֵּן 'עֶבֶד',

Although there is such a thing as a son who is also a servant, On a higher level, these two modes can be combined – not each as a different manifestation of who we are, but a complete merging of the two: a "son" who is, at the exact same time and in his present state, also a "servant," in other words, a "son" who is willing to do anything due to his love for his father, yet who acts in a manner of accepting the yoke and the obligation involved, like a "servant."

הֲרֵי אִי אֶפְשָׁר לָבֹא לְמַדְרֵגָה זוֹ בְּלִי קְדִימַת הַיִּרְאָה עִילָּאָה, כַּיָּדוּעַ לַיּוֹדְעִים.

it is impossible to attain that level without first attaining the level of higher fear, as is known to those who are initiated in the esoteric wisdom of Kabbala. It is not easy to reach this combination of "son" and "servant," where love and fear are blended together. It is not the level of a novice, because in order to reach it, the initial, lower fear is not sufficient. Higher fear, which follows lower fear, is required (as will be explained below). In higher fear, in a sense, closeness and love are combined within that fear itself. Until now, the author of the Tanya has discussed fear as it manifests in feelings and as it manifests in thought. Next, he will address an additional level of fear.

וְהִנֵּה אַף מִי שֶׁגַּם בְּמוֹחוֹ וּבְמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ אֵינוֹ מַרְגִּישׁ שׁוּם יִרְאָה וּבוּשָׁה,

Now, even someone who does not feel any fear or shame, even in his mind and thought, The highest, most perfect level of contemplation leads to emotion. For instance, contemplation on the subject of fear is realized as a feeling of fear in one's heart. This lofty level is not one experienced by exceptional individuals only; anyone can achieve it when he contemplates a topic to which he is sensitive, and when the time and circumstances are right so that he is open to absorbing and deepening the feeling. Some people have such a response to something that they see or hear: a painting or a piece of music moves them. On a lower level, a person fails to achieve an emotional response, such as fear – because he is not sensitive or because he is not in the right frame of mind at that time – but he does achieve intellectual excitement through his intellectual contemplation. He realizes what should be: how he should feel and react. As mentioned above, this too is called "feeling." But here the Tanya discusses a level on which a person does not attain that "feeling" – not even in his mind or thoughts. He thinks about God's greatness and about fear of God, but nothing happens within him.

מִפְּנֵי פְּחִיתוּת עֵרֶךְ נַפְשׁוֹ מִמְּקוֹר חוּצְּבָהּ מִמַּדְרֵגוֹת תַּחְתּוֹנוֹת דְּעֶשֶׂר סְפִירוֹת דַּעֲשִׂיָּה,

because of the lowly nature of his soul, due to the origin from which it was hewn, from the lowest levels of the ten sefirot of the world of Asiya (Action), Here, the author of the Tanya touches upon the question of why some people achieve some level of arousal and others do not. The souls of people in this world have a source in the higher worlds from which they are "hewn." Of course, all souls are a "portion of God"; their point of origin is in the highest realm, in the divine essence. Nevertheless, the shape and character of the soul here below is hewn from a particular realm and level within the sequence of spiritual worlds. This quarry from which the soul is hewn is also an aspect of the divine, but it is divinity that relates to those particular levels and realms, i.e., to the ten sefirot of the world to which a particular soul's form belongs. Accordingly, the author of the Tanya clearly explains that the quarry from which those souls are hewn, souls whose form and level are relatively crude and "lowly," is the quarry of the "lowest levels of the ten sefirot of the world of Asiya." Asiya is the lowest of the four worlds. If a person's soul derives from these levels, even if he works hard and engages in contemplation properly, he will not uncover more than what is found at that level. He will uncover the treasure of the fear of God concealed within his soul, which remained undiscovered until this point. He will polish and reveal the pure soul within himself, no matter what level it has descended to, until it shines of its own accord. But still, it will not shine any more than it did in its source. Therefore, even after first doing all that is necessary – contemplating, working hard, and seeking as much as he can – if he still does not feel, the reason is that his soul originated from a lowly place, from the lower levels of the world of Asiya, and it is unable to achieve the subtle feeling of God's presence. It is entirely possible that a person could have a high soul and an average intellect, whereas someone else could be wise and understand everything written on a subject but lack any sensitivity to and innate understanding of holiness. This dynamic can be seen in other areas as well. Some people are sensitive to certain matters or images, while others are not. There are people who are great experts in a particular field like art or music, yet they lack any emotional sensitivity to the subject. A person might be able to understand the subject matter and explain it to others, but he himself does not become moved, because he lacks the internal mechanism for feeling with regard to this subject.

אַף עַל פִּי כֵן, מֵאַחַר שֶׁמִּתְכַּוֵּין בַּעֲבוֹדָתוֹ כְּדֵי לַעֲבוֹד אֶת הַמֶּלֶךְ, הֲרֵי זוֹ עֲבוֹדָה גְּמוּרָה.

nevertheless, since he serves with the intent to serve the King, his service is still considered a complete service. Fundamentally, the individual is engaged in doing mitzvot, learning Torah, and praying with the intent to serve God.

כִּי הַיִּרְאָה וְהָעֲבוֹדָה נֶחֱשָׁבוֹת לִשְׁתֵּי מִצְוֹת בְּמִנְיַן תרי"ג, וְאֵינָן מְעַכְּבוֹת זוֹ אֶת זוֹ.

That is because the fear and service of God are counted as two distinct mitzvot in the list of the 613 commandments, and they are not contingent on each other. Because the fear and service of God are two separate mitzvot, they are not contingent on each other. There is a mitzva to fear God and there is also a mitzva to serve Him. Although these two commandments are connected to each other, failure to fulfill one does not prevent the fulfillment of the other. Consequently, a person can serve God and fulfill the mitzvot with acceptance of the yoke, and he thereby fulfills the mitzva of "Him you shall serve," even though he has not yet attained the fear of God.

וְעוֹד שֶׁבֶּאֱמֶת מְקַיֵּים גַּם מִצְוַת יִרְאָה, בַּמֶּה שֶׁמַּמְשִׁיךְ הַיִּרְאָה בְּמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ.

Moreover, this person actually fulfills the mitzva of the fear of God as well by virtue of drawing fear into his thought. Although the fear and service of God are two separate mitzvot and can theoretically exist separately, in reality they do not, because when a person fulfills the mitzva of serving God, he likewise fulfills the mitzva of fearing God. The essence of serving God is that a person does what is required of him, which is equivalent to fearing God. This fear is not always apparent, and it is not necessarily an emotional or even an intellectual experience, yet it is there, in the background.

כִּי בְּשָׁעָה וְרֶגַע זוֹ עַל כָּל פָּנִים, מוֹרָא שָׁמַיִם עָלָיו,

This is because, in any case, at that very moment he is invested with a fear of Heaven, When a person serves God, the fear of Heaven is upon him. When he performs a mitzva and is spiritually connected to his act, this means that he has accepted God's kingship upon himself. He might not sense the full significance of his acceptance, nevertheless, the yoke is upon him in a very real way, because he is doing what is required of him, and likewise, he is refraining from that which he should not be doing.

עַל כָּל פָּנִים כְּמוֹרָא מִפְּנֵי בָּשָׂר וָדָם הֶדְיוֹט לְפָחוֹת, שֶׁאֵינוֹ מֶלֶךְ, הַמַּבִּיט עָלָיו, שֶׁנִּמְנָע בַּעֲבוּרוֹ מִלַּעֲשׂוֹת דָּבָר שֶׁאֵינוֹ הָגוּן בְּעֵינָיו, שֶׁזּוֹ נִקְרֵאת יִרְאָה,

which is at any rate no less than his fear of at least a common mortal, someone who is not even a king, who scrutinizes him, because of whom he would inhibit himself from doing anything that the observer would deem inappropriate. This is also considered fear, A person's fear of a king is linked to his recognition of the king's exalted state and the emotion that accompanies this. There is also a simpler sense of fear, when a person refrains from doing certain activities due to his social values, because doing them would make him uncomfortable, since he is wary of the opinions of others. Although this type of fear, a fear of "what will people say," is not like the sense of trepidation and exalted fear, it is still considered fear. The same applies to the fear of Heaven. Take, for example, a person who is afraid and does not steal because there are people around him. It is not because they are policemen, but just because he does not want to be seen stealing. If such a person fears Heaven, he will refrain from stealing for the very same reason even when there are no other people around. His fear of Heaven is on a low level because it does not involve recognition of the divine essence. But it is nonetheless fear, because the person refrains from acting against God's will as a result of it. And for its sake he acts for the sake of God, just as though he possessed the higher level of fear. Such a person seems to be lacking a spiritual connection with God; he does not understand or feel the fear of God. Yet he acts in a particular way that correlates to the fear of God, and his way of life is itself an expression of connection.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁאָמַר רַבָּן יוֹחָנָן בֶּן זַכַּאי לְתַלְמִידָיו (ברכות כח, ב): "יְהִי רָצוֹן שֶׁיְּהֵא מוֹרָא שָׁמַיִם עֲלֵיכֶם כְּמוֹרָא בָּשָׂר וָדָם כו'. תֵּדְעוּ, כְּשֶׁאָדָם עוֹבֵר עֲבֵירָה אוֹמֵר: שֶׁלֹּא יִרְאַנִי אָדָם" כו'.

as Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Zakkai told his students: "May it be His will that the fear of Heaven shall be upon you like the fear of a mortal.… Know that when a person commits a transgression, he says to himself,'I hope that no man will see me…'" (Berakhot 28b). When the students of Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Zakkai asked him, "Only as far as that?" he answered, "If a person would only reach that level of fear, that would be enough." After all, by virtue of having this fear, a person refrains from transgressing. The "fear of a mortal" that Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Zakkai wished upon his disciples is not the fear of being killed or treated badly, but rather it refers to the shame a person feels when he does something that is considered indecent by society. It is the fear of disgrace and discomfort, whether in the eyes of a person or of God. Since this fear makes a person avoid evil just like a fear of tangible harm does, it too is considered fear.

רַק שֶׁיִּרְאָה זוֹ נִקְרֵאת 'יִרְאָה תַּתָּאָה' וְ'יִרְאַת חֵטְא'

However, this type of fear is referred to as lower fear and the fear of sin The definition of lower fear is, stated simply, any concern a person has that prevents him from sinning. Just as a person does not defy social norms of the place that he lives in, a Jew does not sin because sinning goes against his basic spiritual makeup. As stated above, he is not willing to become separated from the Divine in any way. Therefore, the word ḥet in "fear of sin (ḥet )," signifies a deficiency or defect.

שֶׁקּוֹדֶמֶת לְחָכְמָתוֹ,

that precedes a person's wisdom, This is not referring to a fear of something the person recognizes and really understands. Rather, it is an elementary fear that "precedes his wisdom." The language used here connects to a mishna that states, "Rabbi Ḥanina ben Dosa said: Anyone whose fear of sin precedes his wisdom, his wisdom is enduring, but anyone whose wisdom precedes his fear of sin, his wisdom is not enduring" (Avot 3:9). This shows that there is a fear – the "fear of sin" – that precedes wisdom.

וְ'יִרְאָה עִילָּאָה' הוּא 'יְרֵא בּוֹשֶׁת' כו'.

whereas higher fear is called "fear out of shame," and so on. Higher fear is fear that causes a person to turn aside from evil not because he fears punishment or because he fears sin, but because he is ashamed of sinning.

דְּאִית יִרְאָה וְאִית יִרְאָה כו'.

This is because "there are two levels of fear," etc. There is lower fear and higher fear. Elsewhere the author of the Tanya comments on the statement in Avot: "Where there is no wisdom, there is no fear of God; where there is no fear of God, there is no wisdom" (3:17). If this is the case, then where is the starting point? The answer is that there are two levels of fear. Lower fear precedes wisdom, "Where there is no fear of God, there is no wisdom." This is "fear of sin," the initial feeling of accepting the divine yoke, which must precede all the insights of wisdom. Higher fear, on the other hand, comes after wisdom. "Where there is no wisdom, there is no fear of God." After a person has learned and become wise, his wisdom influences his fear, and he possesses fear on a higher level. It is thus clear that fear is not a single specific sensation, but rather a broad range of phenomena within the soul, from the highest level, where a person trembles in terror at God and His glory, to the level that is considered fear only in a practical sense, because the person is willing to accept authority by performing certain acts and refraining from other acts.

אֲבָל בְּלִי יִרְאָה כְּלָל – לָא פָּרְחָא לְעֵילָּא

However, if a person has no fear at all, a mitzva that he performs cannot soar upward When there is neither lower fear nor higher fear, a mitzva cannot ascend.

בְּאַהֲבָה לְבַדָּהּ,

with love alone, Even if a person had focused intent when performing a mitzva, but it only had the quality of love and no fear, the mitzva cannot ascend.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁהָעוֹף אֵינוֹ יָכוֹל לִפְרוֹחַ בְּכָנָף אֶחָד. דִּדְחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ הֵן תְּרֵין גַּדְפִין

just as a bird cannot fly with just one wing. That is because the fear and love of God are compared to the two wings of a bird Here, the author of the Tanya returns to the example he used in the previous chapter. Love and fear are like the two wings of a mitzva. A mitzva cannot ascend with only one of these emotions.

[כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּתִּיקּוּנִים].

(as written in Tikkunei Zohar 25b).

וְכֵן הַיִּרְאָה לְבַדָּהּ הִיא כָּנָף אֶחָד וְלָא פָּרְחָא בָּהּ לְעֵילָּא.

Likewise, having fear alone is analogous to having only one wing, and a person's mitzva cannot soar upward with it alone. There are, however, "love" people and there are "fear" people. There are those for whom the desire and longing for closeness and attachment is their basic perception. That is how they view reality and act within it. Consequently, it is possible that they have only love. Then there are others whose primary approach to reality is one of fear, and it is possible that they possess only fear.

אַף שֶׁנִּקְרֵאת עֲבוֹדַת עֶבֶד וְצָרִיךְ לִהְיוֹת גַּם כֵּן בְּחִינַת בֵּן,

Even though worship that only involves fear is deemed the service of a servant, nevertheless a person must also engage in service in the manner of a son. Although the Tanya stated above that the essence of the mitzva of divine service is the service performed by a servant, this is not enough. Just as it is impossible, and forbidden, to be a son without also being a servant, it is likewise forbidden to be a servant without also being a son. The service of a servant is in essence the acceptance of a yoke, but with regard to divine service, a person must not be satisfied with worship that stems only from accepting God's kingship.

לְעוֹרֵר הָאַהֲבָה הַטִּבְעִית עַל כָּל פָּנִים הַמְסוּתֶּרֶת בְּלִבּוֹ

This entails a person awakening, at least, the natural love hidden in his heart, Like the fear of God, the love of God too has various levels. A certain minimum is required. Just as in the case of fear, this love, which is contingent on the essential, internal connection between the Jewish people and God, lies within a person's essence, in the very fact that he is a Jew. It is innate within the Jewish people; it is embedded in the root of the Jewish essence, both on an individual and a universal level. This is why, when this connection is revealed, combining love, fear, and self-sacrifice, its power is greater than that of any other spiritual force.

שֶׁתְּהֵא בְּהִתְגַּלּוּת מוֹחוֹ עַל כָּל פָּנִים לִזְכּוֹר אַהֲבָתוֹ לַה' אֶחָד בְּמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ וּבִרְצוֹנוֹ לְדָבְקָה בּוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ.

so that at least he has the consciousness in his mind to recall in his thoughts his love for the one God and his will to cleave to God. All Jews are capable of awakening this love within themselves. Even if a person does not reach the point of revelation in his heart, he can at least gain a general comprehension of the concept in his mind. The complete awakening of God's love in a person is an awakening of his heart, whereby he experiences a real, overt love. But even when a person only thinks about the love of God until his intellect accepts the idea that he should love God and cling to him, this too is considered the love of God.

וְזֹאת תִּהְיֶה כַּוָּונָתוֹ בְּעֵסֶק הַתּוֹרָה אוֹ הַמִּצְוָה הַזּוֹ, לְדָבְקָה בּוֹ נַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלוֹקִית וְהַחִיּוּנִית וּלְבוּשֵׁיהֶן, כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

This should be a person's intention when he engages in Torah study or a specific mitzva: to bind his divine soul and vital soul, together with their garments, to God (as stated above (chaps. 23, 35, 37; see also chaps. 4, 14). The intentions outlined here, that a person should have with regard to his love and fear of God, are merely the most basic ones. In the case of fear, this is the fear involved in the acceptance of a yoke and in the service of a servant. A person performs his service because God commanded it, because there are directives stating that "it is forbidden to do this," and "one must do that." Regarding love, the intention discussed here involves a Jewish person's innate need to be attached to God. This contains both an active and a passive aspect. The active aspect involves that which a person does in order to become connected and favored, to come close. The passive aspect involves that which a person refrains from doing so that he does not become distanced. If God does not approve of a particular act, the person will not do it, because if God does not want it, then neither does he. This person just wants to be with his Father. Thus, he recites Shema because his Father likes this, and he refrains from eating certain foods because his Father would not like it. This is not the love of a great tzaddik like Abraham; rather, it is the feeling of a simple individual who is filled entirely with love and who does what God loves because he wants to be with God.

אַךְ אָמְנָם אָמְרוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז"ל: "לְעוֹלָם אַל יוֹצִיא אָדָם עַצְמוֹ מִן הַכְּלָל" (ברכות מט, ב).

However, indeed this is insufficient, because our Rabbis stated, "A person should never exclude himself from the community" (Berakhot 49b). Up to this point, the intentions behind the mitzvot – namely, the love and fear of God – have been discussed in terms of the personal relationship between the individual and God. This relationship has been portrayed as having two polarities: God is on one end and the individual is on the other. Now the author of the Tanya will add another factor, which adds a new dimension. This new factor is a fundamental principle, which appears in various forms and which will be explained at length: A person must not exclude himself from the Jewish community.

לָכֵן יִתְכַּוֵּין לְיַחֵד וּלְדָבְקָה בּוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ מְקוֹר נַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלוֹקִית וּמְקוֹר נַפְשׁוֹת כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל שֶׁהוּא רוּחַ פִּיו יִתְבָּרַךְ, הַנִּקְרָא בְּשֵׁם 'שְׁכִינָה',

Therefore, a person should have the intention to unite and attach both the source of his own divine soul, as well as the source of all the souls of all of Israel, with God. That source is the breath of God's utterance, which is known as the "Divine Presence" [ Shekhina ], When a person engages in learning Torah and performing mitzvot, he should have an additional level of intent: that he is acting not only for the sake of his own personal bond with God, but for the sake of the bond of all of Israel with God. This is because the origin of his own soul is the origin of all Jewish souls. This point at which all Jewish souls are united has various names, all of which are different aspects of the same thing: "the congregation of Israel," "the word of God" and, in the words of the Talmud, "the Divine Presence." From this perspective, the more "internal" and "self-centered" one's actions are, the more universal they are. This is not only the individual's experience, but that of the entire Jewish people. This world does not consist of separate individuals, but of "the word of God," the Divine Presence itself.

עַל שֵׁם שֶׁשּׁוֹכֶנֶת וּמִתְלַבֶּשֶׁת תּוֹךְ כָּל עָלְמִין לְהַחֲיוֹתָן וּלְקַיְּימָן.

because it is immanent [ shokhenet ] and clothed within all worlds, in order to grant them life and to sustain them. As explained in Sha'ar HaYiḥud VeHa'emuna, the Shekhina is the soul of the world, which dwells [shokhenet ] within everything. It sustains all worlds and brings them into existence. It is the word of God within the ten utterances with which He created the world. This is the divinity which speaks within reality and constitutes reality.

וְהִיא הִיא הַמַּשְׁפַּעַת בּוֹ כֹּחַ הַדִּבּוּר הַזֶּה שֶׁמְּדַבֵּר בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה, אוֹ כֹּחַ הַמַּעֲשֶׂה הַזֶּה לַעֲשׂוֹת מִצְוָה זוֹ.

It is this very Divine Presence that invests a person with this faculty of speech to speak words of Torah or this capacity for action to perform this mitzva. A person's ability to speak, or to do anything else comes from the life force within him, the Divine Presence, which gives him life and sustains him. Therefore, when, by virtue of this force, he performs a mitzva or does anything else related to holiness, his intention should be that this act is not only an expression of his own personal being but of the Jewish collective of which he is a part. He is bringing about union and connection to God not merely with his own superficial existence but with the source of his soul and the souls of the entire Jewish nation, the Divine Presence.

וְיִחוּד זֶה הוּא עַל יְדֵי הַמְשָׁכַת אוֹר אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְמַטָּה עַל יְדֵי עֵסֶק הַתּוֹרָה וְהַמִּצְוֹת שֶׁהוּא מְלוּבָּשׁ בָּהֶן,

This union of souls with God is achieved by drawing down the light of the Infinite One, blessed be He, by means of engaging in Torah study and performing the mitzvot, since this light is enclothed in them, Each individual Jew is an expression of the Jewish people. Every Jew expresses in his life the entirety of the Divine Presence, because he is a part of the Divine Presence, since the entirety of his life is an expression of the divine life force in the world, which is the Divine Presence. In contrast, the divine existence that is not part of earthly reality but transcends it is revealed in Torah and mitzvot. When these two polarities, the individual and the mitzva, are united, a union is formed not only between the individual and the mitzva, but between God and all the worlds, which is to say between God and His Divine Presence.

וְיִתְכַּוֵּין לְהַמְשִׁיךְ אוֹרוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ עַל מְקוֹר נַפְשׁוֹ וְנַפְשׁוֹת כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל לְיַיחֲדָן, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁיִּתְבָּאֵר לְקַמָּן פֵּירוּשׁ יִחוּד זֶה בַּאֲרִיכוּת, עַיֵּין שָׁם.

and by having the intent to draw God's light upon the source of one's own soul, as well as the souls of all of Israel, to unify them with God. (This union will be explained at length later in this chapter. See there.) When a person performs a mitzva, he draws the light and will of God not only toward the specific aspect of his being on which the action is performed, but deep into his root and essence, where he is completely united with all Jewish souls and his being is an expression of the Divine Presence itself.

וְזֶהוּ פֵּירוּשׁ "לְשֵׁם יִחוּד קוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא וּשְׁכִינְתֵּיהּ בְּשֵׁם כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל"

This is the meaning of the formula recited before performing a mitzva, "For the sake of uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence on behalf of all Israel." The kabbalists recite this formula before performing a mitzva. The Chabad custom is to say it before the Barukh She'amar prayer and to have the intent that it will apply to all the mitzvot that one will perform throughout the day. A mitzva is the revelation of "the Holy One, blessed be He," and a Jew is the revelation of "His Divine Presence." When the two combine, they "unite the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence." When a person performs a mitzva, he must have intent that he is doing so not only as an individual, but as a part of the Jewish whole. Each individual's particular personality is part of the entirety of the Divine Presence, of the Jewish people, of Kenesset Yisrael, the congregation of Israel.

הַגָּהָה: (וְגַם עַל יְדֵי זֶה יִתְמַתְּקוּ גַּם כֵּן הַגְּבוּרוֹת בַּחֲסָדִים מִמֵּילָא, בְּהִתְכַּלְּלוּת הַמִּדּוֹת וְיִחוּדָם עַל יְדֵי גִּילּוּי רָצוֹן הָעֶלְיוֹן בָּרוּךְ הוּא הַמִּתְגַּלֶּה לְמַעְלָה,

Gloss: Moreover, through this unification, the harsh aspects of Gevura will also automatically be sweetened by the gentle aspects of Ḥesed , with the incorporation and unification of these two attributes. This results from the revelation of God's supernal will, which is revealed on high In this note, the author of the Tanya adds a comment addressed principally to those who are learned in Kabbala. In it he explains that the union achieved through a person's Torah learning and performance of a mitzva with the intention of uniting God and His Divine Presence do not pertain only to the blending of the light of the Infinite One with this world and the Divine Presence. Beyond this, certain entities in the higher realms are also combined and unified. Now the supernal will, which is higher than all the attributes, is revealed, and that brings about the unification and integration of these attributes. Even the attributes that are opposed to one another now operate in the same direction and for the same purpose. This may be compared to a king and his ministers; when the king reveals his will, all disputes among the ministers are eliminated.

בְּאִתְעָרוּתָא דִּלְתַתָּא הוּא גִּילּוּיוֹ לְמַטָּה בְּעֵסֶק הַתּוֹרָה וְהַמִּצְוָה, שֶׁהֵן רְצוֹנוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ.

as the result of an awakening from below. This awakening constitutes the manifestation of the supernal will below, which occurs due to a person's engaging in Torah study and mitzvot, which are God's will. Learning Torah and performing the mitzvot constitute the supernal will as it is expressed in our lower world. When a person fulfills the Torah and performs mitzvot, he fulfills the supernal will both on high and below, thereby awakening the revelation of the supernal will that comes from the highest heights.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בָּאִדְּרָא רַבָּא (זהר חלק ג קלו, א) וּבְ'מִשְׁנַת חֲסִידִים' מַסֶּכֶת 'אֲרִיךְ אַנְפִּין' פֶּרֶק ד: שֶׁתרי"ג מִצְוֹת הַתּוֹרָה נִמְשָׁכוֹת מֵחִיוַּורְתָּא דַּאֲרִיךְ אַנְפִּין, שֶׁהוּא רָצוֹן הָעֶלְיוֹן, מְקוֹר הַחֲסָדִים).

This is in accordance with what is written in the Idra Rabba (Zohar 3:136a) and in Mishnat Hasidim (tractate Arikh Anpin , chap. 4) that the 613 commandments of the Torah are drawn from the whiteness of Arikh Anpin , which is the supernal will, the source of the aspects of Ḥesed . Mishnat Hasidim, a foundational work of Kabbala cited in the above gloss, explains that through a person's fulfillment of Torah and mitzvot here below, the source of the aspects of Ḥesed is revealed above. This causes an increasing abundance of Ḥesed to flow, which sweetens the aspects of Gevura. This means that the union created through a person's fulfillment of a mitzva encompasses all of reality, upper and lower. Since the source of Torah and mitzvot transcends reality, fulfilling a mitzva brings about the complete unification of all the different and opposing aspects within reality (Ḥesed and Gevura ) into one complete whole.

וְאַף שֶׁלִּהְיוֹת כַּוָּונָה זוֹ אֲמִתִּית בְּלִבּוֹ, שֶׁיִּהְיֶה לִבּוֹ חָפֵץ בֶּאֱמֶת יִחוּד הָעֶלְיוֹן הַזֶּה,

However, for a person to sincerely have this intent in his heart, the intent that his heart will truly desire this supernal union, This should not merely be a formula that a person utters, but he should really mean it. However, it is true that even when a person really means it, not every intention is on the level of "sincerely having this intent in one's heart." Every decent person, if asked if he wants the union of God and His Divine Presence, will answer that he does. Why wouldn't he? However, when such a person must decide what he is willing to give up for that, the answer becomes more difficult.

צָרִיךְ לִהְיוֹת בְּלִבּוֹ אַהֲבָה רַבָּה לַה' לְבַדּוֹ, לַעֲשׂוֹת נַחַת רוּחַ לְפָנָיו לְבַד וְלֹא לְרַוּוֹת נַפְשׁוֹ הַצְּמֵאָה לַה'.

he must have a great love in his heart for God alone, the desire only to give God gratification and not the desire to quench his own soul's thirst for closeness to God. In order for a person's intent in performing a mitzva to genuinely be to connect the Divine Presence with the Holy One, blessed be He, he must have a great love in his heart for God alone, the desire only to give God gratification and not the desire to quench his own soul's thirst for closeness to God. It is true that wanting to worship God out of longing and desire, in order to quench one's thirst for Him, is a very high level. But the intention discussed here – that the Divine Presence and God's will be united – is even higher. Now the individual self is not in the center of his thoughts. He must forget his own desire, will, and self, and think of God alone. Not only must he forget his earthly desires, but even the fact that he yearns to become attached to God.

אֶלָּא כִּבְרָא דְּאִשְׁתַּדֵּל בָּתַר אֲבוּי וְאִמֵּיהּ דְּרָחֵים לוֹן יַתִּיר מִגַּרְמֵיהּ וְנַפְשֵׁיהּ כו' [כְּמוֹ שֶׁנִּזְכַּר לְעֵיל בְּשֵׁם רַעֲיָא מְהֵימְנָא (זהר חלק ג רפא, א)].

Rather, he must be "like a son who tends to his father and mother, loving them more than he loves his own body and soul…" (as cited previously, in chap. 10, from Raya Meheimna [Zohar 3:281a]). The love of a son who cares for his parents more devotedly than he cares for himself parallels the intent expressed in the formula, "For the sake of uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence." The person's own self is no longer the subject of his intentions. His goal is not that he will cling to God; rather, his goal is that God and the Divine Presence will achieve completion, becoming one. To this end, a person must forget his own existence in his desire and thirst for connection with God. That is because although not contradictory, these two desires, to quench one's thirst for God and to unite God and the Divine Presence, cannot coexist in the same intention. In the place where God and the Divine Presence are united, nothing else exists, especially not the self. Almost all of the love that a person experiences is to a great extent love of himself. A person loves himself by means of a different entity, meaning another person or even God; he desires to "quench his own soul's thirst for closeness to God." However, when a person acts for the sake of uniting God and His Divine Presence, he forgets himself. At that moment, he does not exist. He has no desires of his own. He wants only God's great desire to be fulfilled. This intention is on such a high level because it contains the deepest act of self-abnegation, of bitul hayesh and bitul bimetziut (the nullification of existence).

מִכָּל מָקוֹם יֵשׁ לְכָל אָדָם לְהַרְגִּיל עַצְמוֹ בְּכַוָּונָה זוֹ,

Nevertheless, although this goal is so elevated, every person should accustom himself to having this intention, This intention constitutes a very high level, and not everyone can reach it. However, even a person who does not think he can reach it should try to do so in any case. He should prepare himself, stating before performing a mitzva, "For the sake of uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence," in order to accustom himself to reaching that high level.

כִּי אַף שֶׁאֵינָהּ בֶּאֱמֶת לַאֲמִיתּוֹ לְגַמְרֵי

for even if he is not completely and absolutely sincere The phrase emet la'amito, "absolute truth," which is found in several places in the Tanya, refers to the purest truth. Every intention of the heart has levels of refinement and purification: meaning, the extent to which a person truly holds the intention, and the extent to which his feelings are sincere, realistic, and alive within him.

בְּלִבּוֹ, שֶׁיַּחְפּוֹץ בָּזֶה בְּכָל לִבּוֹ, מִכָּל מָקוֹם מְעַט מִזְעֵר חָפֵץ לִבּוֹ בָּזֶה בֶּאֱמֶת,

in his heart to the extent of wholeheartedly desiring this, nevertheless his heart does have some genuine, if minuscule, desire for this, Although a person may not reach this level fully, his words and thoughts regarding his intention are nevertheless not false. They contain a kernel of truth, which grows at a point in the soul that is always prepared for it and truly wants it.

מִפְּנֵי אַהֲבָה הַטִּבְעִית שֶׁבְּלֵב כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל לַעֲשׂוֹת כָּל מַה שֶּׁהוּא רָצוֹן הָעֶלְיוֹן בָּרוּךְ הוּא.

due to the natural love in every Jew's heart to do anything that constitutes God's supernal will. This natural love constitutes the essential connection between God and the souls of Israel. By virtue of this love, a Jew naturally desires to do God's will. By virtue of this connection, his soul yearns and thirsts, at its root, for God. His soul longs to strengthen and sustain the connection, and all that this comprises, with God. At its root, a Jew's natural love for God is not just his desire to love or fear God, but the character of his soul, its indescribable, unexplainable connection with God. Deep down, this is a love that is on the level of self-sacrifice and the binding of Isaac. Every Jew possesses at least a small degree of willingness, and some ability to achieve complete self-sacrifice. Even though he may not consciously feel it, the tiny seed that is the beginning of this feeling exists within him. Therefore, when a person expresses this, he is not saying anything false or mechanical. Rather, he is expressing something sincere that is latent and unconscious within him.

וְיִחוּד זֶה הוּא רְצוֹנוֹ הָאֲמִתִּי,

This union constitutes His true will, By its nature, every Jewish soul in its truest and innermost will desires to fulfill God's will, which is the achievement of union between God and the Divine Presence.

וְהַיְינוּ יִחוּד הָעֶלְיוֹן שֶׁבָּאֲצִילוּת,

and it constitutes the higher unification in the world of Atzilut (Emanation), Here, the author of the Tanya describes the higher, all-encompassing aspect of this union. The union of God and the Divine Presence occurs primarily in the world of Atzilut. It is the unification of the levels of Zeir Anpin and Malkhut in the world of Atzilut. This union is in higher worlds that are above and beyond our own reality, and it relates to our world only indirectly. How then can a person in the lower world effect the union of God and the Divine Presence?

הַנַּעֲשֶׂה בְּאִתְעָרוּתָא דִּלְתַתָּא עַל יְדֵי יִחוּד נֶפֶשׁ הָאֱלוֹקִית וְהִתְכַּלְּלוּתָהּ בְּאוֹר ה', הַמְלוּבָּשׁ בַּתּוֹרָה וּמִצְוֹת שֶׁעוֹסֶקֶת בָּהֶן, וְהָיוּ לַאֲחָדִים מַמָּשׁ, כְּמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְבָּאֵר לְעֵיל.

brought about by an awakening from below when a person unifies and incorporates his divine soul into God's light, that light being enclothed in the Torah and mitzvot in which the soul is engaged in learning or performing, so that the divine soul and God literally become one (as explained above (chaps. 5, 23). This higher unification is immeasurably higher than a human being in this world. However, as will be explained, it is related to the lower unification that a person can effect in this world. A human being's "divine soul" represents the Divine Presence in its totality, and "God's light" refers to the Holy One, blessed be He. When a person engages in Torah or mitzvot, and especially when he does so wholeheartedly, he becomes one with the Torah or the mitzva. With regard to prayer, a verse states, "I am prayer" (Ps. 109:4). When a person prays, he is not merely himself. Rather, he is the prayer itself; he has become prayer. The Maggid of Mezeritch is quoted as having remarked on the verse "It was as the musician played [kenagen hamenagen ]" (II Kings 3:15) that the word nagen refers not to the musician but to the musical instrument. There is a stage at which a musician becomes the instrument on which he plays. Likewise, when, as a person performs a mitzva, he connects and unites his soul with it, that bond rises beyond the individual and his experience.

כִּי עַל יְדֵי זֶה מִתְיַחֲדִים גַּם כֵּן מְקוֹר הַתּוֹרָה וְהַמִּצְוֹת, שֶׁהוּא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא, עִם מְקוֹר נַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלוֹקִית הַנִּקְרָא בְּשֵׁם שְׁכִינָה,

That is because through this, the Source of the Torah and mitzvot – i.e., the Holy One, blessed be H e – also unites with the source of the person's divine soul, that source being called the Divine Presence, When a person performs a mitzva that he has been commanded to perform, that creates a connection between him and the One who commands it. More fundamentally, this is the connection between the Divine Presence, of which a person's divine soul is a spark, and the Holy One, blessed be He, who has given the Torah and ordered the performance of the mitzvot.

שֶׁהֵן בְּחִינַת 'מְמַלֵּא כָּל עָלְמִין' וּבְחִינַת 'סוֹבֵב כָּל עָלְמִין' 'כְּמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְבָּאֵר בְּמָקוֹם אַחֵר בַּאֲרִיכוּת.

and these two correspond to the aspect of "fills all worlds" and the aspect of "encompasses all worlds," as explained elsewhere at length (chaps. 48, 49). The Holy One, blessed be He, and the Divine Presence constitute God's immanence, which fills all of reality, and God's transcendence, which is beyond all reality.

אֲבָל יִחוּד נַפְשׁוֹ וְהִתְכַּלְּלוּתָהּ בְּאוֹר ה' לִהְיוֹת לַאֲחָדִים, בָּזֶה חָפֵץ כָּל אָדָם מִיִּשְׂרָאֵל בֶּאֱמֶת לַאֲמִיתּוֹ לְגַמְרֵי, בְּכָל לֵב וּבְכָל נֶפֶשׁ,

However, unlike the matter of this cosmic unification, every Jew fully desires with absolute sincerity, with all his heart and soul, the union and incorporation of his own soul into God's light to become one, "Great love," which is like that of a son who loves his father and mother more than he loves himself, a state in which a person thinks of "uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence," and not about himself, is apparently the level of a select few. However, every Jew truly possesses the absolutely sincere level of loving God to the degree that he desires to cling to God and have his soul unite with Him.

מֵאַהֲבָה הַטִּבְעִית הַמְסוּתֶּרֶת בְּלֵב כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל לְדָבְקָה בַּה' וְלֹא לִיפָּרֵד וְלִהְיוֹת נִכְרָת וְנִבְדָּל חַס וְשָׁלוֹם מִיִּחוּדוֹ וְאַחְדוּתוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ בְּשׁוּם אוֹפֶן, אֲפִילּוּ בִּמְסִירַת נֶפֶשׁ מַמָּשׁ.

coming from the natural love hidden in the heart of every Jew to cleave to God and not to be parted, excised, or separated, God forbid, from God's unity and oneness in any way, even if that means actually sacrificing his life. This natural, concealed love, which has been discussed in previous chapters, has two aspects. One aspect is a person's desire to draw nearer to and cling to God, and the other aspect is a person's drive to prevent himself from growing detached from God in any way, even if this involves self-sacrifice to the point of dying. The author of the Tanya now shifts discussion of this love, by virtue of which every Jew is able to sacrifice his life to sanctify God's name, in a different direction, one that is much more important and significant: that a person can reveal this love not only with his death, as in being immolated to sanctify God's name, but he can also reveal it through his daily divine service, in the acts that he can perform in the here and now.

וְעֵסֶק הַתּוֹרָה וּמִצְוֹת וְהַתְּפִלָּה הוּא גַּם כֵּן עִנְיַן מְסִירַת נֶפֶשׁ מַמָּשׁ.

Engaging in learning Torah, performing mitzvot, and praying is also tantamount to actually sacrificing one's life. Usually, when a person thinks about the idea of self-sacrifice, he imagines a person giving up his life. However, that is not necessarily what is involved. Daily Torah learning, performance of mitzvot, and praying are also considered self-sacrifice. As has been explained, self-sacrifice is simply the relinquishment of the self for the sake of God. Stated more fundamentally, it is the relinquishment of all the possessions and boundaries of the self. This process of self-sacrifice occurs whenever a person engages in Torah or a mitzva. He could have chosen to engage in many other activities that would have served his ego in this world, yet he chose to engage at that moment in serving God. At that time, he is sacrificing himself for God. This is the point that was discussed at the beginning of the chapter with regard to lower fear and the service of a servant. When a person performs a mitzva because it brings him enjoyment, as lofty as that may be, he is not engaged in an act of self-sacrifice. However, when a person does not understand what he is doing and does not feel anything pleasing, when he relinquishes his personal desires, which are in direct opposition to the actions that he now undertakes in serving God, he is engaged in an act of real self-sacrifice. To illustrate, if a person is told to mail a letter, at the moment that he does so, he is not himself. He is not expressing his own personality or desire, but only that of somebody else. He becomes an emissary, and becomes subsumed with respect to the one who sent him. The less he understands the meaning of his act, the more he is nullified, even though this is only a basic level of nullification and relinquishment of the self. Likewise, within a person's performance of any mitzva, learning of any portion of the Torah or any prayer, there is something of this movement of self-sacrifice, of his relinquishing his personal desires out of submission to God's will.

כְּמוֹ בְּצֵאתָהּ מִן הַגּוּף בִּמְלֹאת שִׁבְעִים שָׁנָה, שֶׁאֵינָהּ מְהַרְהֶרֶת בְּצָרְכֵי הַגּוּף, אֶלָּא מַחֲשַׁבְתָּהּ מְיוּחֶדֶת וּמְלוּבֶּשֶׁת בְּאוֹתִיּוֹת הַתּוֹרָה וְהַתְּפִלָּה, שֶׁהֵן דְּבַר ה' וּמַחֲשַׁבְתּוֹ יִתְבָּרַךְ, וְהָיוּ לַאֲחָדִים מַמָּשׁ, שֶׁזֶּהוּ כָּל עֵסֶק הַנְּשָׁמוֹת

This is comparable to the soul leaving the body after the proverbial seventy years, at which point it no longer considers the body's needs. Rather, its thought is focused on and invested in the letters of the Torah and prayer, which are the word and thought of God, and they, the soul and the letters,

בְּגַן עֵדֶן, כִּדְאִיתָא בַּגְּמָרָא (ברכות יז, א) וּבַזֹּהַר (חלק ב פג, א).

actually become one – because indeed, this is all that souls are occupied with in the Garden of Eden (as stated in the Talmud (Berakhot 17a) and in the Zohar (2:83a). Proverbially, a human life in this world lasts seventy years. As the verse states, "The days of our lives in it are seventy years" (Ps. 90:10). When a person dies and his soul is separated from his body, it no longer worries about the affairs that bothered it so much in this life, such as his bank account and mortgage payments. It is, however, very much concerned about its connection to God. In this sense, when a person performs a mitzva, prays, or learns Torah, he is in the world of souls, in his own Garden of Eden. At that time, he leaves his ordinary reality of the life of the body and the physical world, which usually seem so important and urgent, and moves instead into a realm where the soul is paramount and where he is close to and united with God.

אֶלָּא שֶׁשָּׁם מִתְעַנְּגִים בְּהַשָּׂגָתָם וְהִתְכַּלְּלוּתָם בְּאוֹר ה'.

The only difference is that there, in the Garden of Eden, people delight in their comprehension of God's light and their incorporation within it. Nevertheless, there is a difference between a person in this world who keeps mitzvot and his soul in the Garden of Eden. The difference lies not in the extent of the person's clinging to God, but in the extent of his awareness of this clinging. A person who performs a mitzva or learns Torah in this world cannot see its effect and thus he is not properly aware of the significance of what he is doing. Therefore, he does not always enjoy it. His thought, which is engaged with the Torah at that moment, is in another world, soaked in attachment to God as much as it would be if he were in the Garden of Eden. However, since the person himself is in this world, which is very far from that realm, he cannot take pleasure in the attachment. When a person's soul is in this world, in his physical body, it is "deafened" by the noises created by our senses and physical experiences, until it becomes unable to perceive spiritual sensations except in their lowest form. Only after his life in this world has ended, when his soul has separated from his body and all of these noises are silenced, does it begin to hear and see. Then, little by little, another world is revealed to it. In this world, the act of a mitzva gives an appearance comparable to a rudimentary sketch that does not yet display an image. A person gives charity to the poor, and apart from a very limited perception of cause and effect, he does not see what he has accomplished or the significance of his act, including how it plays out in other worlds. In contrast, in the Garden of Eden the soul is allowed to see. It sees these same things, but in a completely different way. The lines of the sketch connect to one another and take on meaning. This sketch becomes a silent, black-and-white movie, and then the frames take on color and sound. Suddenly, everything is different. Everything becomes clear. What was important before is no longer important, and what was unimportant before is now the center of everything.

וְזֶהוּ שֶׁתִּקְּנוּ בִּתְחִלַּת בִּרְכוֹת הַשַּׁחַר קוֹדֶם הַתְּפִלָּה: "אֱלֹהַי נְשָׁמָה

This is why the Sages instituted reciting at the beginning of the morning blessings, before the prayers, "My God, the soul that You have placed within me is pure. You have created it; You have formed it. You have breathed it into me... and You will ultimately take it from me...." Why do we recite this prayer? What is the purpose of declaring that the soul is actually God's and that He placed it within the person? And why recite it at this time and place, before the morning prayers?

כְּלוֹמַר, מֵאַחַר שֶׁאַתָּה נְפַחְתָּהּ בִּי וְאַתָּה עָתִיד לִיטְּלָהּ מִמֶּנִּי – לָכֵן מֵעַתָּה אֲנִי מוֹסְרָהּ וּמַחֲזִירָהּ לְךָ לְיַיחֲדָהּ בְּאַחְדוּתְךָ.

That is to say, "Since You have breathed my soul into me, and ultimately You will take it from me, I therefore from now already relinquish it and return it to You, to unite it with Your oneness." Prayer is an act of self-sacrifice comprised of attachment and union with God. Before praying, a person declares that he is ready for that attachment and union. He announces, in the words of King David, "It is from Your hand, and everything is Yours" (I Chron. 29:16). The person is essentially saying, "Since the soul is Yours and You are going to take it from me in the future, all I can do in the meantime – while it is, so to speak, in my possession – is to do the same: to give You my soul for Your sake."

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: "אֵלֶיךָ ה' נַפְשִׁי אֶשָּׂא" (תהלים כה, א),

This is also the intent of the verse "To You, Lord, I lift up my soul" (Ps. 25:1), The simple meaning of these words is, "I lift my soul up to God. I hand it over, returning it to You." The implication of this is shocking; it describes an actual transfer of one's soul to God.

וְהַיְינוּ עַל יְדֵי הִתְקַשְּׁרוּת מַחֲשַׁבְתִּי בְּמַחֲשַׁבְתְּךָ וְדִיבּוּרִי בְּדִיבּוּרְךָ, בְּאוֹתִיּוֹת הַתּוֹרָה וְהַתְּפִלָּה,

meaning, I lift up and relinquish my soul to You by binding my thought with Your thought and my speech with Your speech through the letters of the Torah and prayer, This certainly does not mean that a person should harm himself and certainly not take his own life. Rather, when a person learns Torah, he is thinking God's thought. When he says the words of the Torah aloud, he is saying God's words. God is saying the words of Torah, and the individual says it along with Him. It is as though God Himself is speaking from within the person, as in the verse, "My words that I have placed in your mouth" (Isa. 59:21). The person's enunciation might not be exactly right, but the speech is God's and the thought is God's. And this is truly an act of devotion and self-nullification, true self-sacrifice, as in the verse, "To You, Lord, I lift up my soul."

וּבִפְרָט בַּאֲמִירָה לַה' לְנֹכֵחַ, כְּמוֹ "בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה", וּכְהַאי גַּוְונָא.

especially when addressing God directly in the prayers, as in "Blessed are You, God," and the like. There are prayers that are predicated on our sense of distance from God. They praise God "in His heavenly stronghold," and describe Him as "He who spoke and the world came into being." Other prayers and blessings are based on our sense of closeness to Him, in which we address God directly. In these latter prayers, a person should contemplate that he is conversing with God, speaking to him in the second person as "You." This is the closest that a person can come to God, whether in this world or the World to Come.

וְהִנֵּה בַּהֲכָנָה זוֹ, שֶׁל מְסִירַת נַפְשׁוֹ לַה', יַתְחִיל בִּרְכוֹת הַשַּׁחַר: "בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה" כו'.

With this preparation of relinquishing one's soul to God, one can begin to recite the morning blessings: "Blessed are You…." When a person knows that his soul is essentially bound to God, and when he is prepared to relinquish it to Him, then he is open to the Divine and is ready to begin praying and learning Torah. In order for the words of prayer and Torah to have value, the person speaking them must be connected to God, which means that he must relinquish his soul to God. Otherwise, what he is doing is only a game that he is playing by himself, whether to gain emotional or intellectual pleasure, in which he may or may not be including the attempt to create a connection with the Creator. The only expression of a true, fundamental relationship between a human being and his Creator is the human being's total and unconditional surrender of his soul to God. The willingness to relinquish one's soul exists within every Jew, but since often this is spontaneously revealed only in moments of crisis, in normal times it must be actively evoked. A person prepares his soul for such an awakening by saying "My God, the soul that You have placed within me…" before he begins an act of divine service such as a mitzva, Torah study, or prayer.

וְכֵן בַּהֲכָנָה זוֹ יַתְחִיל לִלְמוֹד שִׁיעוּר קָבוּעַ מִיָּד אַחַר הַתְּפִלָּה.

Likewise, with this preparation one should commence with a regular course of Torah study immediately after morning prayers. As it is written in Shulḥan Arukh, immediately after prayer one must set aside time to engage in the words of Torah, in order to connect the Torah to the prayer. One should proceed with the same preparation for the Torah study: "To You, Lord, I lift up my soul," relinquishing his soul to God just as he did before praying.

וְכֵן בְּאֶמְצַע הַיּוֹם, קוֹדֶם שֶׁיַּתְחִיל לִלְמוֹד, צְרִיכָה הֲכָנָה זוֹ לְפָחוֹת.

Also, during the day, before one begins to study Torah, this preparation is the minimum requirement. A person must return to have this intention in preparation for Torah study. There are many levels of preparation of the soul. As mentioned previously, there are extremely high levels, where a person achieves perfect preparation and implementation of a holy act. However, only exceptional individuals can reach such levels. That is something that cannot be required of everyone. However, there is a minimal level of preparation, which each individual must require of himself. This involves declaring before prayer and Torah study that he relinquishes his soul to God.

כַּנּוֹדָע שֶׁעִיקַּר הַהֲכָנָה לִשְׁמָהּ לְעַכֵּב הוּא בִּתְחִלַּת הַלִּימּוּד בַּבֵּינוֹנִים.

As it is known, for beinonim (intermediate-level people) the principal preparation for achieving the indispensable intent to perform a mitzva for its own sake is upon commencing Torah study. That which is required of a beinoni is, as stated previously, another way of speaking about that which is required of every individual (chap. 14). For every individual, the indispensable, required intention before he learns Torah, without which his learning is not considered to be within the scope of Torah study, must take place before he begins his learning. A tzaddik always has intent. Since his divine service is not only the language of truth but truth itself, his experience of attachment to God is continuous. But that is not the case regarding a beinoni. His intention is only the language of truth and not truth itself (see chap. 13). Thus, his intention is superficial and requires particular attention and concentration. Were he to focus on constantly maintaining that concentration, his ability to learn Torah might be compromised. Therefore, he is permitted to not maintain his intent to be attached to God. If a person cannot attain both perfect intention and proper Torah study, he should at least be sure to have proper intent at the beginning of his learning.

וּכְמוֹ בְּגֵט וְסֵפֶר תּוֹרָה שֶׁצְּרִיכִים לִשְׁמָהּ לְעַכֵּב,

It is similar to the halakha of writing a bill of divorce and a Torah scroll, in which intent for performing the mitzva for its own sake is indispensable, The halakha states that when a scribe writes a bill of divorce he must have the intention that this bill of divorce is for the specific woman and man named in it. Otherwise, the bill of divorce is invalid. Likewise, with regard to a Torah scroll, if the scribe did not write it for the purpose of creating a Torah scroll, it does not possess the sanctity of a Torah scroll.

וְדַיּוֹ שֶׁיֹּאמַר בִּתְחִלַּת הַכְּתִיבָה: הֲרֵינִי כּוֹתֵב לְשֵׁם קְדוּשַּׁת סֵפֶר תּוֹרָה, אוֹ לִשְׁמוֹ וְלִשְׁמָהּ כו‘.

yet it is sufficient to state intent at the outset of writing a Torah scroll, "I am hereby writing for the sake of the holiness of the Torah scroll," or, when writing a bill of divorce, "In his name and her name…" However, this intention is not required at every moment of the act of writing. Once the scribe has stated his intent at the outset as to what he is writing, the bill of divorce or Torah scroll is kosher, even if he does not have this intent as he writes each letter. It is the same for a person's intent that he relinquishes his soul to be attached to God as he will learn Torah, as fully as if he were in the Garden of Eden. It is sufficient for a beinoni to state this intention at the beginning of his learning.

וּכְשֶׁלּוֹמֵד שָׁעוֹת הַרְבֵּה רְצוּפוֹת, יֵשׁ לוֹ לְהִתְבּוֹנֵן בַּהֲכָנָה זוֹ הַנִּזְכֶּרֶת לְעֵיל, בְּכָל שָׁעָה וְשָׁעָה עַל כָּל פָּנִים,

and when a person studies Torah for many consecutive hours, he should stop and contemplate this aforementioned preparation at least once every hour, However, when a person learns for an extended period of time, declaring his intention once at the beginning is not sufficient. At least once an hour, he must stop his learning and reestablish his intention; he is not learning for the sake of his profession or anything else, but for the sake of God's holiness.

כִּי בְּכָל שָׁעָה וְשָׁעָה הִיא הַמְשָׁכָה אַחֶרֶת מֵעוֹלָמוֹת עֶלְיוֹנִים לְהַחֲיוֹת הַתַּחְתּוֹנִים, וְהַמְשָׁכַת הַחַיּוּת שֶׁבַּשָּׁעָה שֶׁלְּפָנֶיהָ חוֹזֶרֶת לִמְקוֹרָהּ [בְּסוֹד רָצוֹא וָשׁוֹב שֶׁבְּסֵפֶר יְצִירָה],

because in each and every hour, there is a new flow of vitality from the higher worlds to grant life to the lower worlds, while the flow of life force from the previous hour returns to its source (in accordance with the mystical concept of "running and returning" mentioned in Sefer Yetzira 1:6), "Running and returning" is the living rhythm of reality, both of the individual and the entire world. The motion of life is that of "running and returning." It is a bidirectional movement of gathering and dispersing, giving and taking. It is like breath, which involves inhaling and exhaling, and like the heartbeat, which involves contraction and dilation. It is the way of the world: "He daily, continuously, renews the work of creation." This motion of running and returning is the nature of time, which is called shana ("year") in Sefer Yetzira, because time is change (shinui ). At its root, change is the giving and taking of life force. It is bringing something into being and erasing it. That is the rhythm of "running and returning," which constitutes the expanse of time. In every world and in every soul, the rate of "running and returning" determines the duration and speed of its time.

עִם כָּל הַתּוֹרָה וּמַעֲשִׂים טוֹבִים שֶׁל הַתַּחְתּוֹנִים.

along with all the Torah and good deeds of the lower worlds. Therefore, at every unit of time, there is a renewal of life, of the soul of the world. Renewal is a two-way motion of "running" and "returning." New life is given, and the life that had existed returns to its source. The life that returns to its source does not return as it was given, but as it has been affected by the reality in which it had been, whether by Torah and good deeds, or their opposite, God forbid.

כִּי בְּכָל שָׁעָה שׁוֹלֵט צֵירוּף אֶחָד מִי"ב צֵירוּפֵי שֵׁם הוי"ה בָּרוּךְ הוּא בְּי"ב שְׁעוֹת הַיּוֹם, וְצֵירוּפֵי שֵׁם אדנ"י בַּלַּיְלָה כַּנּוֹדָע.

For during each hour, throughout the twelve hours of the day, a different one of the twelve letter combinations of the name of Havaya presides, and throughout the twelve hours of the night, the twelve combinations of the name of Adnut preside, as is known. The four letters of the name of Havaya can be arranged together to form twelve different combinations, as can the four letters of the name of Adnut. Just as these names constitute reality as a whole (as explained in Sha'ar HaYiḥud VeHa'emuna, chap. 4), each combination of their letters constitutes one part of reality. For example, each combination gives life to one hour of the day. The twelve combinations of the name of Havaya give life to the twelve hours of the day, and the twelve combinations of the name of Adnut give life to the twelve hours of the night. Therefore, every hour constitutes a new reality, and accordingly, at every hour a person must renew himself and his connection to the Divine. When a person is engaged in Torah study for several consecutive hours, at every hour it is fitting that he renew his intention to relinquish his soul to God through this learning. He should not consider his intention from the previous hour sufficient.

וְהִנֵּה כָּל כַּוָּונָתוֹ בִּמְסִירַת נַפְשׁוֹ לַה', עַל יְדֵי הַתּוֹרָה וְהַתְּפִלָּה, לְהַעֲלוֹת נִיצוֹץ אֱלֹקוּת שֶׁבְּתוֹכָהּ לִמְקוֹרוֹ, תְּהֵא רַק כְּדֵי לַעֲשׂוֹת נַחַת רוּחַ לְפָנָיו יִתְבָּרַךְ,

Now a person's sole intention in relinquishing his soul to God through Torah study and prayer, by which he elevates the divine spark within the soul to its source, must be exclusively to give gratification and joy to God, As discussed above, there is an absolutely sincere intention in every Jew to have his soul unite with and be incorporated into the Divine. This should be a person's explicit intent when he engages in Torah and prayer: that he intends to take the divine spark concealed within him and elevate it and bind it to God, who is the source of the Torah and the object of his prayers. Although this intention is not "for the sake of uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence," it is nevertheless a part of it. In order for a person to connect that partial intent to the whole, as expressed in "for the sake of…," his intention must not be for the sake of his own soul's gratification at being returned to its source. His simple intention is indeed to elevate his soul, but in order to connect this to the greater intention, he should add another layer, an intention upon an intention, that this act of elevating his soul will give gratification to God.

כִּמְשַׁל שִׂמְחַת הַמֶּלֶךְ בְּבוֹא אֵלָיו בְּנוֹ יְחִידוֹ בְּצֵאתוֹ מִן הַשִּׁבְיָה וּבֵית הָאֲסוּרִים, כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

as in the analogy of the king's joy when his only son returns to him upon leaving captivity or imprisonment, as stated above (chap. 31). In our world, holiness is concealed within matter. It is in captivity. When a person performs a mitzva with a physical item, he releases the spark of holiness within it, which then reunites with its source. Each spark of divine holiness is like a son of God, whom God cherishes, and misses when he is far away. When a person performs a mitzva, he should have the intent that through this act he is returning the son home to its Father, and in that way he is giving gratification and joy to God. The essence of higher pleasure and joy is the concept of "extract[ing] that which is precious from the worthless" (Jer. 15:19). This joy is inherent in every mitzva. The entire world is in exile because, even though it receives its life force from God, it does not recognize Him. But as soon as any entity in the world makes a conscious connection to God, recognizing Him as its Father, that entity is redeemed. In this sense, every mitzva we do is redemption from exile. It is the extraction of the precious from the worthless and is part of the process of restoration, whereby we return the world to God. A person's every intention of doing something "for the sake of Heaven" is in essence for the sake of giving gratification to God, because the person is returning the world to God. When a person has the intent to give gratification to God, he ties his individual, personal intent to the overarching intent of "uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence."

וְהִנֵּה כַּוָּונָה זוֹ הִיא אֲמִתִּית בֶּאֱמֶת לַאֲמִיתּוֹ לְגַמְרֵי, בְּכָל נֶפֶשׁ מִיִּשְׂרָאֵל, בְּכָל עֵת וּבְכָל שָׁעָה, מֵאַהֲבָה הַטִּבְעִית שֶׁהִיא יְרוּשָּׁה לָנוּ מֵאֲבוֹתֵינוּ.

This intention is completely genuine and absolutely sincere in the soul of every Jew, at any given time or hour, stemming from the natural love that is our legacy from our forebears. As mentioned earlier, the higher intention of "uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence," is not absolutely sincere in all hearts. However, the intention of relinquishing one's desires in order to cling to God to the point of true self-sacrifice is. This love of God, the natural connection between a Jew and God (being the definition and essence of the nature of the Jewish people), is truly present in every Jew. This is true not only of tzaddikim, but of every Jewish soul. In fact, sometimes it is even stronger in the simplest people than in the wisest, most distinguished sages.

רַק

Yet Although this is a natural connection, a tremendous force inherent in a Jew at his very foundation, it is concealed. And no one is exempt from attempting to uncover that connection through his own efforts. It is his duty to reveal them. In order to do so, a person must develop and refine his comprehension and emotions, so that they will be tools capable of giving expression to this innermost force: the love of God that is concealed in the heart of every Jew.

שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לִקְבּוֹעַ עִתִּים לְהִתְבּוֹנֵן בִּגְדוּלַּת ה', לְהַשִּׂיג דְּחִילוּ וּרְחִימוּ שִׂכְלִיִּים,

one must establish set times to contemplate God's greatness in order to achieve cognitive fear and love, In order for a person to comprehend these matters, and for his comprehension to lead him to feeling his closeness to God and to performing mitzvot, he requires effort and persistence. That means that he must establish set times to contemplate God's greatness. This is a matter of practice and habituation. If a person puts in persistent effort, he will reach a point where his soul is able to perceive matters that it previously could not. The supernal union attained by engaging in the intention of "uniting the Holy One, blessed be He, with His Divine Presence" is not essentially an ability of a beinoni but rather of a tzaddik. And as the author of the Tanya has explained, the attribute of a tzaddik is unattainable for a beinoni. Nevertheless, if a beinoni engages in persistent hard work to achieve this union, then possibly "from an awakening from below will come an awakening from above." This awakening, a gift from God, will elevate the beinoni to a level and spiritual experience that he could not have achieved on his own.

וְכוּלֵּי הַאי וְאוּלַי וכו' כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

and even with all this, only perhaps will a person succeed.… (as stated above (chap. 34). The effort that a beinoni expends in focusing on "for the sake of the union…" does not guarantee that he will reach such a union, because that attainment is, after all, something that is only achieved by a tzaddik. Reaching that merely becomes a possibility; perhaps God will grant him something from above, but perhaps not.