וְטַעַם הַשִּׂמְחָה בְּיִסּוּרֵי הַגּוּף,

The rationale for rejoicing in the suffering of the body "Suffering of the body" refers to all pain experienced in this physical world, whether literally in the body or with regard to any worldly matter, such as losing a job or being insulted by a friend. With regard to these afflictions, there is a difference between the suffering itself and the many ways that people respond to the suffering. It is one thing to endure suffering, even to accept it with love, but it is an entirely different level to be happy while experiencing suffering. The question that this chapter presents is, what possible reason could inspire a person to rejoice in his suffering?

לְפִי שֶׁהִיא טוֹבָה גְּדוֹלָה וַעֲצוּמָה לַנֶּפֶשׁ הַחוֹטֵאת, לְמָרְקָהּ בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וּלְהַצִּילָהּ מֵהַמֵּירוּק בַּגֵּיהִנָּם

is that it is of immensely great benefit to the soul that sins to be scoured in this world and be spared from the scouring in Gehenna. Suffering is a means of cleansing and rectifying the soul. All souls eventually require this scouring. The only question is whether the scouring is undergone here, in the physical world, or in Gehenna after death. Since sin and its defilement happen in this world, the primary means of punishment and rectification also come about through the occurrences of this world. Punishment in Gehenna serves as the secondary option, as a means of completing the process that was not finished in the physical world. The slightest action in performing a physical mitzva in this world reverberates throughout the spiritual worlds with an incomparably greater force than any spiritual endeavor. So too even relatively slight suffering of the body in this world brings about a deeply foundational degree of repair and cleansing of one's soul, sparing it from greater suffering in Gehenna.

(בִּפְרָט בְּדוֹרוֹתֵינוּ אֵלֶּה שֶׁאֵין בַּיְּכוֹלֶת לְהִתְעַנּוֹת כְּפִי מִסְפַּר כָּל הַצּוֹמוֹת שֶׁבְּתִיקּוּנֵי תְּשׁוּבָה מֵהאר״י ז״ל, הַצְּרִיכוֹת לְמֵירוּק הַנֶּפֶשׁ לְהַצִּילָהּ מִמֵּירוּק בְּגֵיהִנָּם).

( This is specifically relevant in these current generations, when people do not have the ability to undertake the entire number of fasts prescribed by the penances of the Arizal necessary to scour the soul and spare it from scouring in Gehenna.) The early chapters of this book described how previous generations undertook this scouring by fasting the number of penitential fasts prescribed by the Arizal for each sin. Such fasts have a potent effect on the sinner, purifying and refining his soul, allowing it to be spared rectification in Gehenna. In our day, we do not have the ability to undertake this scope of fasting, both because our bodies are weaker and our number of sins is greater. If the average person today were to undertake these penances, he would be obligated to fast more days than there are in a year. In view of this, a person should rejoice in the suffering he experiences particularly in our times. In the face of his pain, he should be conscious that God is benefiting him greatly by enabling him to undergo suffering that he would not be able to undertake himself by fasting. That relatively small amount of pain in this world will spare him great suffering in the World to Come.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתַב הרמב״ן ז״ל בַּהַקְדָּמָה לְפֵירוּשׁ אִיּוֹב, שֶׁאֲפִילּוּ יִסּוּרִים שֶׁל אִיּוֹב שִׁבְעִים שָׁנָה אֵין לָהֶן עֵרֶךְ כְּלָל לְיִסּוּרֵי הַנֶּפֶשׁ שָׁעָה אַחַת בְּגֵיהִנָּם. כִּי ״אֵשׁ, אַחַת מִשִּׁשִּׁים״ וכו׳ (ברכות נז, ב).

As Ramban, of blessed memory, wrote in the introduction to his commentary on the book of Job, even seventy years of terrible suffering like Job's are totally insignificant compared to the suffering of the soul for one hour in Gehenna, for "our fire is one-sixtieth of the fire of Gehenna" (Berakhot 57b). If someone suffers a burn, as painful as that may be, it is only one-sixtieth of the pain inflicted by the fires of Gehenna. This disparity raises two questions. First, why is the pain of punishment, as well as the bliss of reward, so much more intense in the World to Come? One explanation is that here, in this physical world, there is a limit to how much suffering the body can endure. Physiologically, once the level of pain passes a certain threshold, the body no longer feels the escalation. The same is true regarding pleasure. After a certain level of stimulation, the senses not only become numb, the feeling of pleasure diminishes until it actually becomes painful. The body acts as a natural filter that caps sensation. By contrast, when the soul leaves the body, when unfettered by the bonds of the body or time, there are no limits. It can experience both infinite pain and infinite pleasure. The second question is, why does the relatively minute amount of suffering that can be tolerated in this world count even more than the suffering of the World to Come? Why does the suffering incurred by stubbing a toe or a toothache scour one's sin and spare him from infinitely greater suffering in Gehenna? The author of the Tanya goes on to present the answer.

אֶלָּא לְפִי שֶׁעוֹלָם הַזֶּה ״חֶסֶד יִבָּנֶה״, וּבְיִסּוּרִין קַלִּין בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה נִיצּוֹל מִדִּינִים קָשִׁים שֶׁל עוֹלָם הַבָּא.

It is only because this world is built on loving-kindness that mild suffering in this world spares a person from severe punishments in the World to Come. The answer to the second question is that our world is founded on loving-kindness, and that is why even trivial suffering spares a person from the punishment he deserves in the World to Come.

כִּמְשַׁל הִילּוּךְ וְהַעְתָּקַת הַצֵּל בָּאָרֶץ טֶפַח, לְפִי הִילּוּךְ גַּלְגַּל הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בָּרָקִיעַ אֲלָפִים מִילִין וכו׳.

It is analogous to the progression and movement of a shadow only one handbreadth upon the earth, which correspond to the progression of thousands of miles in the sun's movement through the firmament and so forth. One can trace a line from every point on the globe all the way up to the sun as it moves across the sky in its circular trajectory. The slightest progression of a shadow cast by the sun on Earth corresponds to the sun advancing thousands of miles against the backdrop of space.

וְיֶתֶר עַל כֵּן לְאֵין קֵץ הוּא בַּנִּמְשָׁל, בִּבְחִינַת הִשְׁתַּלְשְׁלוּת הָעוֹלָמוֹת מֵרוּם הַמַּעֲלוֹת עַד עוֹלָם הַזֶּה הַגַּשְׁמִי.

It is infinitely even more so in the matter at hand, with respect to the unfolding succession of the worlds from the most elevated heights down to this physical world. The analogy of the sun in relation to the Earth is insufficient to convey the true magnitude of the distance between our physical world and the spiritual worlds. No matter how much we discover about the expanding boundaries of the physical universe, the scale of the spiritual realm will always be infinitely greater. The physical dimension is but a single facet and expression of the spiritual world. By definition, it will always be encompassed and dwarfed by the spiritual plane of existence. Yet despite this enormous gap, there is a certain parallel between our world and the supernal world: Whatever pleasure or suffering, success or failure, befalls a person in this world triggers unfathomable reverberations in the upper worlds. There is a complex relationship between our world and the supernal worlds. On the one hand, the supernal worlds are a more ideal expression of perfection. Yet the fact that our world lies at the lowest stage of the progression actually invests it with a singular quality: It serves as the junction where the trajectories of all the other worlds come together. Imagine multiple lines radiating outward into space from a central point. As the lines continue to expand, the distance between them grows. A small change made in the distance between two lines close to the focal point will cause a huge difference in the breadth between those two lines farther outward. A slight movement below causes a much greater effect above. Our world may be the lowliest of all, but it is also the most potent.

וְכַנּוֹדָע מִמַּה שֶּׁכָּתוּב בַּזּוֹהַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ (עיין נח סד, ב, סה, א) מֵעִנְיַן עֲלִיּוֹת עוֹלָמוֹת הָעֶלְיוֹנִים בְּאִתְעֲרוּתָא דִּלְתַתָּא, בְּהַקְרָבַת עוֹף אֶחָד, בֶּן יוֹנָה אוֹ תּוֹר, עַל גַּבֵּי הַמִּזְבֵּחַ‌, אוֹ קוֹמֶץ מִנְחָה.

This is indicated by what is written in the holy Zohar (1:64b–65a) with regard to the elevation of the higher worlds by the awakening from below through the sacrifice of a single bird, a turtledove or young pigeon, on the altar, or even a handful of meal offering. This sheds light on the dynamic between our world and the supernal worlds. A single offering on the altar below has the power to elevate the higher worlds. A handful of meal offering may seem like a paltry material gesture, but that offering of grain becomes progressively more significant as the effects of that gesture spiral upward until they reverberate infinitely throughout the worlds. In this world, the full scope and import of our actions is not visible. We only grasp the tail end of things. But those little ends contain the convergence of all the spiritual worlds. It is as if this world holds the nerve center of reality. That nucleus is so densely concentrated that even the slightest movement within triggers an effect that ripples throughout the worlds.

וְכֵן הוּא בְּכָל הַמִּצְוֹת מַעֲשִׂיּוֹת,

The same applies to all the mitzvot performed with a physical action, The Zohar's statement regarding sacrifices applies equally to the rest of the action-based mitzvot. Each mitzva is a crystallization of the divine will, emanating from beyond all worlds into our condensed physical reality. We perform mitzvot utilizing physical material – the wool of tzitzit, the fruit of the etrog, our hands, our time, and so on. Every one of these slight mitzva movements below arches upward to power the entire constellation of the spiritual worlds and beyond.

כַּנּוֹדָע מֵהאריז״ל.

as known from the Arizal. Throughout his extensive kabbalistic teachings, the Arizal revealed some of the esoteric reasons behind the mitzvot and their impact on the supernal worlds.

וְזֶה שֶׁאָמְרוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל עַל פָּסוּק ״וְהִתְקַדִּשְׁתֶּם וִהְיִיתֶם קְדוֹשִׁים״ (ויקרא כ, ז): ״אָדָם מְקַדֵּשׁ עַצְמוֹ מְעַט מִלְּמַטָּה – מְקַדְּשִׁין אוֹתוֹ הַרְבֵּה מִלְמַעְלָה״ וכו׳ (יומא לט, א)

This is related to what our Rabbis stated regarding the verse "You shall sanctify yourselves, and you shall be holy" (Lev. 20:7): "A person who sanctifies himself a bit from below, they sanctify him greatly from above... " (Yoma 39a). This teaching of the Rabbis echoes the concept outlined above. When a person invests a small effort below, he triggers a major impact above in the same sense that God says to us, "Open for me a crevice the size of a needle's point, and I will open for you gateways wide enough for wagons and carriages to enter" (Shir HaShirim Rabba 5:3). In this physical world, holiness is hardly discernible. It is hard to tell the difference between a holy act or object and one that is not. In the supernal worlds, the difference increases according to the level of each world and the degree of divinity revealed within it. Therefore, when "a person sanctifies himself a bit from below," it reverberates to a vast degree in the upper worlds. This divine light then rebounds back down with abundance to "sanctify him greatly from above." Even if a person does not feel it, the flow of holiness from above transforms his entire spiritual reality and has a lasting impact on his life.

(וּכְמוֹ שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר לְעֵיל בְּעִנְיַן ״אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו״ וכו׳, בְּחִינַת סוֹבֵב כָּל עָלְמִין וכו׳).

(This is also in accordance with the aforementioned statement (chap. 10) regarding the words recited in blessings, "who sanctified us with His commandments...," that performing mitzvot infuses a person with the supernal holiness that encompasses all worlds....) God sanctifies us from above through our performance of the mitzvot. The word "mitzva" is related to the Aramaic word tzavta, meaning connection. Performing a mitzva enables a person to connect with the supernal holiness of God, the bestower of the mitzva. Besides its role in unleashing a flow of holiness between the higher and lower worlds, a mitzva is inherently and directly rooted in a dimension that far transcends the entire constellation of spiritual worlds, where there exists a lofty manifestation of God called "encompasses all worlds."

וְכָכָה מַמָּשׁ הוּא בְּעִנְיַן שָׂכָר וְעוֹנֶשׁ, כְּמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״שְׂכַר מִצְוָה – מִצְוָה״ וכו׳ (אבות ד, ב), וּכְמוֹ שֶׁנִּתְבָּאֵר בְּמָקוֹם אַחֵר (תניא פרק לט).

It is exactly the same with regard to the matter of reward and punishment, in accordance with our Rabbis' statement "The compensation for performance of a mitzva is the mitzva itself, and the compensation for a transgression is the transgression itself" (Avot 4:2), as explained elsewhere (Likkutei Amarim, chap. 39). Just as the act of performing a physical mitzva below triggers a major spiritual impact in the supernal worlds, so too with regard to the reward it generates. Since a mitzva act is rooted above in the transcendent holiness of the Divine, nothing else in this world can possibly come close to its unfathomably great value. True compensation for performing a mitzva, then, can only be attained in the World to Come, where the sublime bliss of the mitzva itself can be experienced. This applies to transgressions as well. By absolute standards, no punishment in this world is severe enough to correspond to the flaw effected by a single transgression. Nevertheless, the kindness embedded in this world allows physical suffering to substitute for the punishment and scouring of the World to Come. In light of this, when a person experiences suffering of body or spirit, and it hurts (and when it hurts, it is even legitimate to cry), he should not view the pain as a meaningless, degrading hardship. Rather, he should strive to internalize the fact that his suffering is an opportunity imparted by God, in His abundant kindness, to repair the flaws that the sin caused in the easiest possible way. From this perspective, his suffering in this world becomes a salvation and a source of healing. He should rejoice in it in the same way that a person who gets a shot that will heal him is overjoyed about his recovery.

״וְדַעַת לְנָבוֹן נָקָל״ (משלי יד, ו) וּ״מַשְׂכִּיל עַל דָּבָר יִמְצָא טוֹב״ (שם טז, כ).

"Knowledge comes easily to the discerning man" (Prov. 14:6), and "He who contemplates a matter will find goodness" (Prov. 16:20). This closing sentence is a fitting conclusion to this entire book. In the introduction to the Tanya, the author explains that when it comes to matters of the spirit, there is no standard formula or universal prescription that fits every person. This is why he chose this verse to close this short section of the Tanya, Iggeret HaTeshuva: It is to convey that this work is only a general outline of the repentance process and is intended to open a gateway for each person to enrich his understanding of these concepts. Then he can apply them to his own life in a way that best fits the uniqueness of his soul. In this chapter, the author of the