אַךְ כָּל זֶה לְעִנְיַן כַּפָּרָה וּמְחִילַת הֶעָוֹן, שֶׁנִּמְחָל לוֹ לְגַמְרֵי מַה שֶּׁעָבַר עַל מִצְוַת הַמֶּלֶךְ כְּשֶׁעָשָׂה תְּשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵימָה,

However, all this is in reference to atonement and pardoning the sin – meaning, one is completely pardoned for transgressing the King's command once he fully repented. The assertions of the previous chapter, that the penitent is not expected to fast or practice self-mortification, apply only to atonement. A person who has fully repented for failing to perform a positive commandment or for transgressing a prohibition, with sincere regret and resolution to refrain from committing the transgression again in the future, has paid his dues, as it were, and warrants complete atonement without the need for fasting.

וְאֵין מַזְכִּירִין לוֹ דָּבָר וַחֲצִי דָּבָר בְּיוֹם הַדִּין לְעָנְשׁוֹ עַל זֶה חַס וְשָׁלוֹם בָּעוֹלָם הַבָּא, וְנִפְטָר לְגַמְרֵי מִן הַדִּין בָּעוֹלָם הַבָּא.

They make no mention to him whatsoever of his sin on the day of judgment in order to punish him for it, God forbid, in the World to Come; he is fully exonerated in the World to Come. Atonement affects the soul's status in terms of its credits and debts. It is why the Torah refers to a person who receives the punishment of lashes by an earthly court as a "brother," as in "And your brother will be degraded before your eyes" (Deut. 25:3). The Sages explain that the suffering he experiences through lashes serves as the final stage in his atonement and restores his status so that he is once again on a par with his brethren. Similarly, if an individual authentically repents, his transgressions are not mentioned in the heavenly court at all. He committed a transgression and was therefore in debt, yet since he repented, that debt is erased. While he does not become a tzaddik as a result, his debt is cleared. When the time comes to account for his actions, whether on his personal day of reckoning after his death or the great day of reckoning in the future, this debt will not be mentioned to him at all. It will be as if it has been totally erased from his account, as if he never committed that transgression or never failed to perform that commandment. This is not about a rectification or compensation for the void that he caused, as if he now retroactively performed the mitzva. Rather, the aspect of the transgression where he disobeyed God is forgiven and erased from his heavenly account as if it never happened.

אָמְנָם שֶׁיִּהְיֶה לְרָצוֹן לִפְנֵי ה׳ וּמְרוּצֶּה וְחָבִיב לְפָנָיו יִתְבָּרַךְ כְּקוֹדֶם הַחֵטְא לִהְיוֹת נַחַת רוּחַ לְקוֹנוֹ מֵעֲבוֹדָתוֹ,

Yet in order for the sinner to be accepted before God, as pleasing and dear in God's eyes as he was before the sin, so that his Creator has gratification from his service, Here the author of the Tanya adds a new point in the mechanism of repentance and atonement. Despite the power of repentance to erase a person's sin so that no mention will be made of it at all, his divine service is still not yet desired by God as it was before his sin. Something still prevents him from restoring his status as beloved to God. This resembles a person who feels regret for mistreating his friend and asks for forgiveness. If his friend says, "I forgive you and I am forgetting the whole incident," truly trying to forget, will he feel the same level of love that he did initially? Does their relationship automatically revert to the way it was before? Forgetting the infraction does not necessarily mean clearing out every trace of it. The dirt can be removed, but erasing the imprint, the empty void left behind by the misdeed, is impossible. To restore the closeness that they once enjoyed, a person must do more than erase the past. He must make an additional offer.

הָיָה צָרִיךְ לְהָבִיא קָרְבַּן עוֹלָה אֲפִילּוּ עַל מִצְוַת עֲשֵׂה קַלָּה שֶׁאֵין בָּהּ כָּרֵת וּמִיתַת בֵּית דִּין,

one was required in the times of the Temple to bring a burnt offering, even for neglecting to fulfill a minor positive commandment that does not incur karet or a court-imposed death penalty, Despite the fact that one who neglected to perform a positive commandment and then repented was forgiven immediately, as the baraita cited in the previous chapter teaches, he was still required to bring a burnt offering. The offering was not meant to serve as an atonement but rather as an additional act of devotion.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁדָּרְשׁוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל בְּתוֹרַת כֹּהֲנִים עַל פָּסוּק ״וְנִרְצָה לוֹ״ (ויקרא א, ד),

as our Rabbis in Torat Kohanim infer from the verse "He shall lay his hand upon the head of the burnt offering, and it shall be accepted for him to atone for him" (Lev. 1:4). The Midrash in Torat Kohanim states: "For what kind [of sins] will [the burnt offering] effect atonement for him? If you say,'For [sins] that incur karet, a court-imposed death penalty, death at the hand of Heaven, or lashes,' surely you see that the punishments for those sins are [expressly] stated [and it is that and not the sacrifice that effects atonement]. Consequently, it can only atone for the neglect of a positive commandment and for violating a prohibition that is attached to the fulfillment of a positive commandment." The Sages deduce that someone who neglects to fulfill a positive commandment must present a burnt offering so that he will become desired and beloved as he was formerly. When people fight and afterward make up, their relationship cannot revert to its former status. Rather, there are two possible outcomes. The individuals involved can right the wrong yet in the process lose or taint the friendship they had originally. Alternatively, they can allow their process of appeasement to forge between them an even deeper connection. In a later chapter, the author of the Tanya gives a metaphor that aptly illustrates this concept: When tying two ropes together, the knot itself is thicker and stronger than the width of a single rope. The same applies to man's relationship with God. After an individual has lost his original purity, he can repent and God forgives him, but that is not sufficient to restore the pure state he enjoyed before. Even if he becomes even more righteous, more pious than before, he still does not return to his previous status. Therefore, the penitent brings an offering along with his repentance because he cannot be satisfied with merely changing his behavior. From now on, he must try harder, not so that he can be more, but so that he will not be less, so that he will not remain in the category of transgressor, even if only in the past. To move out of the place where the sin brought him, to fix the flaw, he must run twice as fast. He must add and offer something, not as payment or a settling of his account, but rather, as the author of the Tanya will go on to discuss, as a gift to prove his devotion.

וְכִדְאִיתָא בַּגְּמָרָא פֶּרֶק קַמָּא דִזְבָחִים, דְּעוֹלָה מְכַפֶּרֶת עַל מִצְוֹת עֲשֵׂה וְהִיא דּוֹרוֹן

As the Talmud states in the first chapter of Zevaḥim (7b), a burnt offering atones for neglecting to fulfill a positive commandment, and it is considered a gift of appeasement to God The Talmud there deals with the question of the offering's purpose. Clearly, it does not replace repentance but rather functions as a supplement once repentance and atonement have been achieved. What, then, is its purpose? The Talmud answers that the burnt offering serves as a gift.

לְאַחַר שֶׁעָשָׂה תְּשׁוּבָה וְנִמְחַל לוֹ הָעוֹנֶשׁ.

after one repented and his punishment was pardoned. The author of the Tanya notes that first and foremost the offering and gift are brought only after a person repented and he was pardoned. If an individual were to offer a sacrifice before repenting, it would be thrown back in his face. Without repentance, it bears no meaning. Does God need the blood of lambs and rams?! But when a person repents wholeheartedly, doing everything in his power to rectify the situation, and only afterward brings an offering to God, a small gift so as to be once again embraced with love as before, then it becomes a gift that engenders God's appeasement.

וּכְאָדָם שֶׁסָּרַח בַּמֶּלֶךְ וּפִיְּיסוֹ עַל יְדֵי פְּרַקְלִיטִין וּמָחַל לוֹ, אַף עַל פִּי כֵן שׁוֹלֵחַ דּוֹרוֹן וּמִנְחָה לְפָנָיו שֶׁיִּתְרַצֶּה לוֹ לִרְאוֹת פְּנֵי הַמֶּלֶךְ

This is comparable to the case of a person who offended the king and appeased him through advocates, and he forgave him. Nevertheless, he sends the king a gift and offering so that he will allow him to appear again before the sovereign. The offender sent messengers to mediate between him and the king to arouse the king's compassion and forgiveness. These advocates relayed how much he regretted his actions and resolved never to offend the king again. They begged for compassion, and the king subsequently forgave him. Yet the king could still say, "True, you have settled your account, but I don't want to see you anymore!" Officially the penitent has paid his dues, so he cannot be held liable for his crime. But he does not necessarily revert to his former state of innocence. Even if one fixes a break, a crack still remains – a scar, a hint of the breakage that was. Through repentance, one can rectify everything he has blemished, but he cannot change the fact that he was once a sinner. Take, for example, the person who, despite having appeased the king and averted punishment, does not feel the camaraderie that was once there. The sin is forgiven, he will not be indicted for it anymore, but the memory remains. This problem is intrinsic to the nature of forgiveness. Forgiving is easy when it entails simply dropping all charges. When an offender asks for forgiveness and expresses sincere remorse, we do not add insult to injury by refusing his repentance. But renewing the friendship and warmth as if nothing ever happened is another thing entirely. Something else is needed, a gesture that serves to arouse a new and different kind of love. This gift is the sacrificial offering that a person brings to God after repenting and being forgiven. Along these lines, Psalm 50 speaks of the benefit of sacrifices. Why does God desire sacrifices? God does not need our animals, "for every beast of the forest is Mine... " (Ps. 50:10). Rather, He wants a gift that manifests itself through sacrifices: "Offer God a thanksgiving sacrifice, and pay your vows to the Most High" (Ps. 50:14). He wants us to show Him that extra expression of unsolicited effort, not included in the bill but rather a gift from us. This was the function of the voluntary burnt offering in Temple times. After an individual sinned, repented, and received atonement – of any kind – he would go above and beyond by bringing a burnt offering to the Temple.

(וּלְשׁוֹן מְכַפֶּרֶת, וְכֵן מַה שֶּׁכָּתוּב בַּתּוֹרָה ״וְנִרְצָה לוֹ לְכַפֵּר עָלָיו״ – אֵין זוֹ כַּפָּרַת נַפְשׁוֹ אֶלָּא לְכַפֵּר לִפְנֵי ה׳ לִהְיוֹת נַחַת רוּחַ לְקוֹנוֹ,

(The term mekhaperet , atones, in this talmudic statement, and likewise its usage in the abovementioned verse from the Torah, "And it shall be accepted for him to atone for him," does not refer to the soul's atonement for his sin, but rather it connotes appeasing God and once again being a source of gratification to his Creator, Erasing the negative action is not enough. One must add a positive action. The term kappara, then, has two connotations. The first is to scour and clean. Through atonement, the soul is polished and cleansed of the transgression. This is not the meaning that is referred to by the verse that speaks of bringing an offering. The second meaning connotes an addition, a supplement, as in the verse "And you shall coat it [vekhafarta ] within and without with pitch" (Gen. 6:14). In this sense, a person merits atonement by bringing an offering in addition to his repentance, adorning himself, so to speak, so that he will be wanted and beloved before God, as demonstrated in the verse "I will appease [akhapra ] him with the gift" (Gen. 32:20). Along the same lines, the expression kofer nefesh, "a ransom for the soul," literally refers to the additional adornment that a person grants himself by giving an offering.

כִּדְאִיתָא שָׁם בַּגְּמָרָא, וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״תָּמִים יִהְיֶה לְרָצוֹן״ [ויקרא כב, כא]).

as is evident there in the Talmud, and as it is written, "It shall be unblemished to be accepted" [Lev. 22:21].) The word leratzon, "to be accepted," used in the verse cited implies being desired and beloved. Along with the talmudic passage quoted here, which refers to the burnt offering as a source of gratification to God, this conveys that the whole function of the burnt offering is to cultivate love and desire in one's relationship with Him.

וְעַכְשָׁיו שֶׁאֵין לָנוּ קָרְבָּן לְהָפִיק רָצוֹן מֵה׳, הַתַּעֲנִית הוּא בִּמְקוֹם קָרְבָּן,

However, nowadays, when we do not have burnt offerings to evoke God's favor, fasting takes the place of offerings, Here the author of the Tanya returns to the topic of fasting. Like a sacrifice, fasting is not a required step in the process of attaining atonement but rather serves as a gift.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּגְּמָרָא, שֶׁיְּהֵא מִיעוּט חֶלְבִּי וְדָמִי שֶׁנִּתְמַעֵט כְּאִלּוּ הִקְרַבְתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ וכו׳ (ברכות יז, א).

as it is written in the Talmud, "May it be Your will that my fat and blood that diminished through fasting be considered as if I offered a sacrifice before You on the altar... " (Berakhot 17a). The Sages recited this prayer when fasting, in which they requested that their fast be equivalent to the sacrifice of an offering. We see that fasting takes the place of sacrifices. When a person fasts, he literally reduces himself. By refraining from eating, he burns some of the storehouses of his flesh and blood. It is that part of himself that was "burned" through his fast that he gives as a gift, as it were, to God, like the offering that is burned on the altar. What, after all, can man possibly give to God, who lacks nothing? As King David declared in his prayer, "For everything comes from You, and from Your own hand we have given to You" (I Chron. 29:14). There is only one way for a person to truly give something to God, and that is to relinquish something of his very self. When a person fasts and thus diminishes a little of his blood and flesh for God, he has given God a gift. Through self-abnegation and self-nullification, through eradicating a piece of himself, he offers part of his very being as a burnt offering to God. The hasidic teachings draw a parallel to this concept in the spiritual dimension. "Fat" refers to pleasure, while "blood" corresponds to one's very life force. A person's enjoyment of worldly things and his physical vitality have the greatest effect on his disposition. Through fasting, he substitutes in their stead spiritual pleasure and vitality engendered through cleaving to God. They become the fat and blood offered to God as a sacrifice.

וְלָכֵן מָצִינוּ בְּכַמָּה תַּנָּאִים וְאָמוֹרָאִים שֶׁעַל דָּבָר קַל הָיוּ מִתְעַנִּים תַּעֲנִיּוֹת הַרְבֵּה מְאֹד.

For this reason, we find accounts of several tanna'im and amora'im , the talmudic Sages, who would undertake a great many fasts for transgressing even a trivial misdemeanor. These Sages fasted even for negligible violations that do not fall under the rubric of neglecting a positive commandment or transgressing a prohibition. The author of the Tanya goes on to relate a few such accounts, but not to emphasize the intensity of the remorse that such violations evoked in those Sages. After all, the more spiritually refined the person, the more meticulous his introspection becomes. Obviously, tzaddikim and great Sages scrupulously assessed their actions and lamented even the subtlest of their mistakes. Here the emphasis is on the fasting. The author of the Tanya explains that the Sages' intention in fasting, beyond erasing the negative effect of their mistake, was to be desired by God and drawn close again. Their fasting was commensurate with the offering of a sacrifice: They gave God something of themselves, a sacrifice of their own fat and blood.

כְּמוֹ רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר בֶּן עֲזַרְיָה, שֶׁהָיָה מַתִּיר שֶׁתְּהֵא פָּרָה יוֹצְאָה בִּרְצוּעָה שֶׁבֵּין קַרְנֶיהָ בַּשַּׁבָּת וַחֲכָמִים אוֹסְרִים,

For instance, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya ruled that a cow may go out to the public domain with a strap between its horns on the Sabbath, whereas the other Sages prohibited it. The Mishna in tractate Shabbat recounts which items a person is prohibited to lay on his animal when it goes out on the Sabbath, the distinction being that they are not necessary animal garb. Among them, the Sages prohibited allowing a cow to go out with a strap tied between its horns. The Talmud recounts how Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya disagreed with the Sages about this law and concluded that doing so is permitted.

וּפַעַם אַחַת יָצְאָה כֵּן פָּרָתוֹ שֶׁל שְׁכֶנְתּוֹ וְלֹא מִיחָה בָּהּ,

On one occasion, his neighbor's cow went out with a strap, and he did not protest her conduct. Rabbi Elazar himself did not allow his cow to go out with a strap tied between its horns, but his neighbor did so, since she knew that her neighbor, an important rabbi, was of the opinion that it was permitted. Rabbi Elazar remained silent and did not rebuke her, even though it was prohibited for her to rely on his opinion in practice. Since his colleagues, who constituted the majority, disagreed with him, his minority opinion was relegated to the theoretical realm only.

וְהוּשְׁחֲרוּ שִׁינָּיו מִפְּנֵי הַצּוֹמוֹת עַל שֶׁלֹּא קִיֵּים דִּבְרֵי חֲבֵירָיו.

Afterward, his teeth blackened from the many fasts he undertook for not supporting the ruling of his colleagues. He considered his failure to uphold the decision of his colleagues a transgression that distanced him from God (and not only from his colleagues). Therefore, aside from feeling remorseful, he wanted to do something additional to restore his closeness to God by fasting a given number of fasts.

וְכֵן רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ‌, שֶׁאָמַר: בּוֹשַׁנִי מִדִּבְרֵיכֶם בֵּית שַׁמַּאי, וְהוּשְׁחֲרוּ שִׁינָּיו מִפְּנֵי הַצּוֹמוֹת.

Likewise Rabbi Yehoshua, who said, "I am ashamed of your words, Beit Shammai" (Ḥagiga 22b) – his teeth turned black from his many fasts. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananya was one of the most distinguished Sages of Beit Hillel, the academy of Hillel. One time, when the reasoning of the Sages of Beit Shammai seemed strange and illogical to him, he expressed himself sharply, saying, "I am ashamed of your words, Beit Shammai." When in the course of the debate their rationale surfaced, he retracted his statement and went to prostrate himself on the graves of the Sages of Beit Shammai to beg them for forgiveness. The Talmud relates that his teeth subsequently turned black due to his many fasts. He ended up fasting for the rest of his life to atone for his comments.

וְרַב הוּנָא פַּעַם אַחַת נִתְהַפְּכָה לוֹ רְצוּעָה שֶׁל תְּפִילִּין וְהִתְעַנָּה מ׳ צוֹמוֹת.

It is also told that one time the strap of Rav Huna's tefillin turned over, and he observed forty fasts. Once, Rav Huna's tefillin strap flipped over so that the black side faced inward. It was totally accidental and incidental, and there wasn't even a trace of transgression involved. Still, since a commandment that should have been performed perfectly (especially tefillin, which embodies one's connection to God) was not done in the ideal manner, Rav Huna interpreted this occurrence as a serious flaw in his connection to God. To mend the gap and to restore his former status of being beloved in God's eyes, he had to make that extra effort of giving an offering to God by fasting.

וְכָהֵנָּה רַבּוֹת.

There are many other such instances. These are not exceptional cases. They exemplify a prevalent way in serving God that was common throughout the generations.

וְעַל יְסוֹד זֶה לִימֵּד האריז״ל לְתַלְמִידָיו, עַל פִּי חָכְמַת הָאֱמֶת, מִסְפַּר הַצּוֹמוֹת לְכַמָּה עֲוֹנוֹת וַחֲטָאִים

On the basis of this principle, the Arizal taught his disciples, according to the true wisdom of Kabbala, the number of fasts necessary to undertake for numerous sins and transgressions With this principle in mind, that fasting is not calculated as part of the atonement process but rather serves as a gift so that the giver will become close to God once again, the Arizal taught his disciples how to implement fasting for various transgressions. The fundamental aspect of the Arizal's teaching was the revelation that even when offering sacrifices is impossible, one can harness their power through fasting. More specifically, through knowing the spiritual root of each flaw of the soul, he was able to prescribe the specific number of fasts necessary to undertake for individual transgressions.

אַף שֶׁאֵין בָּהֶן כָּרֵת וְלֹא מִיתָה בִּידֵי שָׁמַיִם.

even if they are not punishable by karet nor death at the hand of Heaven. As mentioned above, suffering serves as the culmination of atonement for transgressions punishable by karet or death at the hand of Heaven. The previous chapter explained how fasting can serve to expedite and supplement atonement for such transgressions. However, the fasts that the author of the Tanya discusses in this chapter, and those that the Arizal taught, are not measured in the same way that a sin is measured: according to its severity or punishment. Some actions, though not considered transgressions, render their violators as despicable people. Conversely, certain actions, though not even formally mitzvot, elevate their doers to a very high spiritual level. These behaviors are not spelled out in halakhic works because they do not fall within the rubric of permissible or prohibited. Yet such wrongdoings, though not technically forbidden at all, can cause the individual to plummet from his level and from his original closeness to God, just as if he committed grievous violations. These fasts relate to that resultant chasm.

כְּמוֹ עַל הַכַּעַס קנ״א תַּעֲנִיּוֹת וכו׳.

For example, for anger he prescribed 151 fasts and so forth. Anger is not punishable by karet and is not even counted as one of the 613 commandments, yet the distance and spiritual decline caused by anger demands that a person fast 151 times to renew his prior closeness to God.

וַאֲפִילּוּ עַל אִיסּוּר דְּרַבָּנָן, כְּמוֹ סְתָם יֵינָם, יִתְעַנֶּה ע״ג תַּעֲנִיּוֹת וכו׳,

He prescribed fasts even for violating a rabbinic prohibition. For example, one who drinks the wine of a gentile should undertake seventy-three fasts and so forth. The Sages prohibited the drinking of all wine produced by gentiles due to the biblical prohibition that forbids the drinking of libation wine used for idolatry. Although the transgression of drinking the wine of a gentile has the status of a rabbinic transgression, considered less grave than violating a biblical prohibition, doing so causes a great degree of spiritual desolation.

וְכֵן עַל בִּיטּוּל מִצְוַת עֲשֵׂה דְּרַבָּנָן, כְּמוֹ תְּפִלָּה, יִתְעַנֶּה ס״א תַּעֲנִיּוֹת וכו׳.

Likewise, for neglecting to fulfill a positive rabbinic edict, such as prayer, one should undertake sixty-one fasts and so forth. The fasts that the Arizal instituted do not apply only to transgressing a biblical prohibition, but also to neglecting to perform a positive commandment, even if rabbinic in nature. The sixty-one fasts were to be undertaken for neglecting the specified times for prayer, which constitute a rabbinic edict. However, the mitzva to pray is a biblical commandment, as evident from the halakhic rulings that the author of the Tanya presents elsewhere.

וְדֶרֶךְ כְּלָל סוֹד הַתַּעֲנִית הִיא סְגוּלָּה נִפְלָאָה לְהִתְגַּלּוּת רָצוֹן הָעֶלְיוֹן בָּרוּךְ הוּא, כְּמוֹ הַקָּרְבָּן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר בּוֹ: ״רֵיחַ נִיחוֹחַ לַה׳״ (ויקרא א, ט).

In general, the mystery of fasting is a wondrous remedy to manifest God's supernal favor, similar to an offering, about which the Torah states, "A pleasing aroma to the Lord" (Lev. 1:9), The mysterious secret behind fasting is that it can serve as a substitute for the sacrifices. Through fasting, one can realign his soul with God's will, as one would by bringing an offering in the Temple. Hasidim sum up the difference succinctly: Through a sacrifice, one offers an animal external to him, and through fasting, he offers the animal within him. By subduing his animalistic nature, a person allows his soul to ascend, giving gratification to God and restoring his status as before the sin.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בִּישַׁעְיָה: ״הֲלָזֶה תִּקְרָא צוֹם וְיוֹם רָצוֹן לַה׳״ (ישעיה נח, ה),

as it is written in Isaiah, "Is this what you call a fast and a day of favor to the Lord?" (Isa. 58:5). This verse is read in the haftara of Yom Kippur, the fast mentioned explicitly by the Torah, an auspicious time for repentance. The chapter describes a fast that was undertaken without the proper motivations, one colored by hatred and discord. Yet the ideal type of fast can be deduced from the critical words of the prophet: "Is this what you call a fast and a day of favor to the Lord?"

מִכְּלָל שֶׁהַצּוֹם הַנִּרְצֶה הוּא יוֹם רָצוֹן.

This teaches that the fast that is desired by God is a "day of favor." A "fast that is desired by God" is one fueled by the proper intentions and actions and arouses Him to desire us. The desirable aspect of a fast, then, is not the self-mortification entailed by refraining from eating, but rather the fact that it extracts a person from the dimension of eating and drinking and elevates him to another dimension. Hasidim would say, "What is a desirable fast?" The answer is a fast like those undertaken by the Ba'al Shem Tov. Before he revealed himself to the world, the Ba'al Shem Tov earned his livelihood as a clay digger in the mountains. He would leave on Sunday, work his trade and practice his divine service in solitude all week, and return home for the Sabbath. When he left on Sunday, his wife would give him six loaves of bread, one for each day, as his weekly nourishment. Yet when he returned on Friday, he would discover, to his surprise, that all six loaves were still with him! He had simply forgotten to eat. This is a favorable fast – when a person is so immersed in his service of God, so engrossed in another dimension that, as the Psalmist says, "I forget to eat my bread" (Ps. 102:5). He simply forgets the whole endeavor called eating. This chapter, a continuation of the previous one, deals with fasting and its role in the process of repentance. It discusses an additional stage beyond the strict parameters of repentance and atonement, where a person lacks the feeling of closeness and love he once had with God. He can bridge this gap by offering a gift to God. In Temple times, this gift took the shape of the voluntary burnt offering; nowadays, it is achieved by fasting. By depleting one's blood and fat through the fast, a person presents a gift to God, showing that despite his sin, despite the distance he fell, he returns now to renew the bond. Like a severed rope, it is now retied, and the knot itself is thicker and stronger than the rope ever was. The fast, which turns one's fat and blood into a gift and engenders renewed closeness and favor, creates a bond that is stronger than ever. This is the foundation upon which the Arizal prescribed a certain number of fasts for each transgression: to bind the soul anew in the wake of the severance of one's relationship with God caused by that sin. This applies not only to biblical transgressions, but to every situation that causes a flaw in the spiritual connection between a person and God. From that place of distance, one must bring the gift – the fat and the blood, a person's most precious, personal elements, the only thing he can actually give – so that he will be as beloved to God as before. Notes