וְאוּלָם דֶּרֶךְ הָאֱמֶת וְהַיָּשָׁר

Indeed, the authentic and upright path The path of repentance, the details of which are to follow, is an "authentic and upright path." In the first chapter of Iggeret HaTeshuva, the author of the Tanya emphasized that the crux of repentance is in the heart, encapsulated by one's internal resolution to abandon the sin. Yet this repentance may not necessarily be motivated by holy incentives. It may be initiated because of circumstance and not because it is the ideal, "upright" path. This path of repentance may not lead to authenticity, and the repentance will not be enduring. In this chapter, the author aims to present a path of repentance that will be "authentic and upright," one that is not necessitated by failure or deficiency but rather by self-motivation, wherein a person initiates the process in a sustainable, enduring way.

לִבְחִינַת תְּשׁוּבָה תַּתָּאָה, הֵ״א תַּתָּאָה, הַנִּזְכֶּרֶת לְעֵיל,

to achieving the lower level of repentance, corresponding to the final heh of God's name, discussed above (chap. 4), The authentic and upright path that will be discussed in this chapter is the path to the lower level of repentance, which entails restoring the final heh to its place in the name of Havaya. Such repentance comes from below, from the initiative of the individual.

הֵם ב׳ דְּבָרִים דֶּרֶךְ כְּלָל.

is comprised of two general components. Although there are many paths to repentance, and every individual will embark on his own unique process, all the paths are comprised of two foundational components. The first is to awaken compassion upon the soul, and the second is to crush and subdue the kelippa that has essentially formed a crust over the soul, cutting it off from its source, as the author of the Tanya goes on to explain.

הָאֶחָד הוּא לְעוֹרֵר רַחֲמִים הָעֶלְיוֹנִים

The first is to awaken supernal compassion By nature, the soul does not awaken itself to repent, particularly since the soul that requires repentance is one that has fallen, that is in a place where holiness is obscured, where it fails to recognize or sense its deficiency. The starting point must be compassion, the recognition that a holy soul, a holy spark, is down there, shrouded in darkness, suffering in exile. When a person contemplates this, compassion for his soul, his true self, is stirred.

מִמְּקוֹר הָרַחֲמִים

from the source of all compassion The compassion that the author of the Tanya refers to here is "supernal compassion from the source of [all] compassion." There is the attribute of compassion that is engendered by the sefira of Ḥokhma in the world of Atzilut and then drawn down to all the worlds. This is comparable to human compassion that is evoked as a result of wise understanding and contemplation. Then there is "supernal compassion," which refers to the divine compassion that transcends God's attribute of compassion as manifest through the sefirot in the worlds. Supernal compassion flows directly from its source – that is, from God Himself (the "Father of all compassion") – and is rooted in the attribute of Keter, which transcends the attributes that are manifest in the realm of Atzilut. For the purpose of repentance, even compassion born of Ḥokhma is not enough, because repentance itself transcends the intellect.

עַל נִשְׁמָתוֹ וְנַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלֹקִית

for one's divine spirit and soul, To awaken this compassion, a person must ruminate upon that which touches him personally, namely, his unique divine soul with which his deepest sense of self identifies. As he contemplates its plight, he evokes compassion within himself for the low circumstances to which he has brought his divine soul, while praying and begging for compassion on his soul from the source of all compassion.

שֶׁנָּפְלָה מֵאִיגְּרָא רָמָה חַיֵּי הַחַיִּים בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְבִירָא עֲמִיקְתָּא, הֵן הֵיכָלוֹת הַטּוּמְאָה וְהַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא.

which fell from a lofty height, from the infinite source of life, blessed be He, to an abysmal pit, namely, the sanctums of impurity and the sitra aḥara , The soul is intrinsically lofty, and its root is bound to the source of all life, as explained in the previous chapter. Due to a person's sin, his divine soul fell into the sanctums of impurity and the sitra aḥara. It is specifically this plummet that the soul takes, from the highest heights to the lowest possible place, that awakens this compassion.

וְעַל מְקוֹרָהּ בִּמְקוֹר הַחַיִּים הוּא שֵׁם הֲוָיָ״ה בָּרוּךְ הוּא,

and also to awaken compassion for its source in the source of life, which is the name of Havaya , As explained in the previous chapters, the soul of every Jew is literally a part and parcel of God and as such is bound with an essential bond to the Divine, to the name of Havaya. Therefore, the sin of a Jew and his fall is necessarily a desecration of God's name, not just in the external sense, where any sin a person does brings dishonor to God in the world, but in a deep, intrinsic sense. Since he is a portion of the name of Havaya, he lowers and denigrates the holiness of God Himself, drawing Him down into the worlds of impurity and the sitra aḥara, as it were. The compassion that the penitent seeks to evoke, then, is not only for his own soul but also for God Himself.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״וְיָשׁוֹב אֶל הֲוָיָ״ה וִירַחֲמֵהוּ״ (ישעיה נה, ז).

as it is written, "Let him return to the Lord [ Havaya ], and He will have mercy on him" (Isa. 55:7). The standard reading of this verse is that when an individual repents and "returns to the Lord," then God will have mercy on the person. Here, the author of the Tanya understands the verse to mean that it is "he," the penitent, who is called upon to "have mercy on Him," the name of Havaya, which was desecrated through the sin. In the daily prayers, we say, "Act for the sake of Your great name," since the name, or the Divine Presence that is synonymous with the name, is with us in our troubles. This is comparable to when a child sins: He not only degrades himself, but he disgraces his father and all his predecessors. When he repents and asks for compassion for his actions, he requests mercy also for his forefathers, who were degraded and disgraced through him.

פֵּירוּשׁ לְעוֹרֵר רַחֲמִים עַל הַשְׁפָּעַת שֵׁם הֲוָיָ״ה בָּרוּךְ הוּא, שֶׁנִּשְׁתַּלְשְׁלָה וְיָרְדָה תּוֹךְ הֵיכָלוֹת הַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא הַטְּמֵאִים

This verse refers to evoking compassion on the life-giving sustenance that issues from the name of Havaya , which spiraled down into the impure sanctums of the sitra aḥara The compassion that the penitent seeks to awaken is for the divine spark within him, that part of the name of Havaya that fell so low. When a person is in a place of sin and failure, it is hard for him to have compassion on himself because he may not feel worthy of mercy, but he can awaken compassion for the Divine within, for the great and holy name that has been forced into this partnership of indignity. Take two people, a commoner and a prince, who fall together into some sort of distress. The commoner could say to himself, "I am already used to distress and suffering, but I feel so bad for the prince, who has no experience of it." When the lowly person is confronted with troubles, he may not have mercy on himself because he does not have a lofty past or a glorified future to mourn, but it is natural for him to have compassion on the unfathomably intolerable fall that the prince took. This is the deeper meaning of the verse "Let him return to the Lord, and He will have mercy on Him." The beginning of one's "return to the Lord" is the awakening of immense compassion for God, whom the individual dragged down into the sanctums of impurity because of his sins.

לְהַחֲיוֹתָם עַל יְדֵי מַעֲשֵׂה אֱנוֹשׁ וְתַחְבּוּלוֹתָיו וּמַחְשְׁבוֹתָיו הָרָעוֹת.

to give them life through man's deeds, schemes, and evil thoughts. God's great name, the name of Havaya, descends with the sinner, not only to be held captive in the sanctums of impurity, but also, as explained in the previous chapter, to give them life. A person's evil actions, schemes, and thoughts feed the sanctums of the sitra aḥara, enlivening them.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״מֶלֶךְ אָסוּר בָּרְהָטִים״ (שיר השירים ז, ו), בְּרָהִיטֵי מוֹחָא וכו׳,

As the verse states, "The locks of your head are like... ​the king bound in the tresses" (Song. 7:6), which refers to being bound by the stream of the mind's improper thoughts; The Tikkunei Zohar interprets this verse as referring to God, the King, who is bound to a person's stream of thought, which can run very fast and sink very low. Wherever his thoughts go, they draw with them the name of God. Worlds and sanctums, in and of themselves, are like empty rooms, like unspoken words, like a closed prayer book or a mitzva with no one to perform it. Man's thoughts, as well as his deeds and interactions with the world, infuse them with vitality, with the attention and interest of God, as it were. Just as this holds true with mitzvot and holy thoughts, it is also true regarding foolish and impure thoughts, which enliven and actualize worlds of foolishness and impurity, sustaining them, feeding them, and giving them power over the sacred.

הִיא בְּחִינַת גָּלוּת הַשְּׁכִינָה כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

this refers to the Divine Presence in exile, as stated above (chap. 6). The concept that God is chained and bound to the sanctums of impurity, to enliven them, that the Divine Presence, the indwelling presence of God in all things, feeds that which opposes its will instead of expressing its essential divine essence – that is the exile of the Divine Presence. The author of the Tanya associates the individual's personal descent caused by his transgressions and failings to the all-encompassing descent of the Divine Presence into exile. When a person asks for compassion, he should do so, not only for his personal failure, but for the entire realm of holiness that fell along with him. One reason for associating one's personal experience with the grand scheme of holiness is that when a person is judged on his own, it could be said, "What is man that we make mention of him?" and he will not merit compassion. When a person falls and goes into exile, he should therefore associate with the exile of the Divine Presence. The Talmud relates a story about Rabbi Ḥanina ben Tradyon who, when bound to a Torah scroll and burned along with it, prayed on behalf of the Torah scroll, knowing that God would help Himself, as it were, and he would be saved in the process. Indeed, Rabbi Ḥanina was reassured that He who would contest the defacement of a Torah scroll would contest his disgrace as well. However, the main reason to associate with the exile of the Divine Presence when evoking compassion on one's soul is that when a person asks for mercy for himself, it is nurtured by self-centeredness, by personal aspiration. This, in a deep and subtle way, separates him from the Divine. But when the person makes a request on behalf of the Divine Presence, when he emphasizes that he does not ask for his own sake but rather for God's sake, and he happens to be included in this request, his supplication takes on a whole new scope and significance. It is not one of separation but rather of unity and inclusion in the Divine.

וּזְמַן הַמְסוּגָּל לָזֶה הוּא בְּתִיקּוּן חֲצוֹת,

The opportune time to awaken this compassion is during Tikkun Ḥatzot , Time, like places and people, has different qualities at different intervals, each one with its unique character and capability. The period of time with the greatest potential for awakening compassion for the exile of the Divine Presence is midnight, when a person would recite Tikkun Hatzot, a prayer that focuses on lamentation for the destruction of the Temple and the ensuing exile. Even when a person is walking down the street at midday, his compassion for the fall of his soul and the exile of the Divine Presence may suddenly be stirred. He may even be inspired to repent and dramatically change his life. Yet still, a busy street in broad daylight is not an "opportune time" for this spiritual experience. Conversely, the time of Tikkun Ḥatzot is opportune because, as discussed in kabbalistic works, it is when supernal judgment turns into compassion. What makes this time even more potent is the fact that this is the hour when Jews as a collective are accustomed to waking up to pray for heavenly compassion for the exile of the Divine Presence. When the penitent, too, prays for divine mercy, he is not alone. His prayer is amplified as he joins with the Jewish collective and indeed with the Divine Presence to raise it up from the dust.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּסִּידּוּר בַּהֶעָרָה, עַיֵּין שָׁם בַּאֲרִיכוּת.

as stated in the note to Tikkun Ḥatzot, in the Siddur Admor HaZaken (p. 151c); see there at length. The Siddur Admor HaZaken is the prayer book that the author of the Tanya compiled and printed, and it includes hasidic discourses on the topic of prayer. The note referenced here by the author of the Tanya is an entire discourse that deals mostly with fear of God and the lack of it during the age of the exile of the Divine Presence, as well as Tikkun Ḥatzot, which is designed to rectify this. At the end of the note, the author of the Tanya asserts that the most opportune time for this prayer is precisely at ḥatzot, halakhic midnight.

וְזֶהוּ שֶׁאוֹמְרִים שָׁם: ״נָפְלָה עֲטֶרֶת רֹאשֵׁינוּ אוֹי נָא לָנוּ כִּי חָטָאנוּ״ (איכה ה, טז).

This explains the verse that is recited there in Tikkun Ḥatzot, "The crown of our head has fallen; woe to us, for we have sinned" (Lam. 5:16). The two parts of this verse are connected to each other by way of cause and effect. "The crown of our head" refers to the source of the soul, the part that is a portion of God above, his lot in the Divine Presence that surrounds him like a crown. "The crown of our head has fallen" signifies that this manifestation of God fell because of the person's sins. But the verse does not just express a causal effect, but also how a person's personal descent into sin is essentially an aspect of the fall and exile of the Divine Presence, since his soul is a part of the Divine.

וְלָכֵן נִקְרָא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא ״מֶלֶךְ עָלוּב״ בְּפִרְקֵי הֵיכָלוֹת (פרק יח),

That is why the Holy One, blessed be He, is referred to as the affronted King in Pirkei Heikhalot (chap. 18), There it says that the angels refer to God during exilic times using this sharp and painful language.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתַב הרמ״ק ז״ל, כִּי אֵין לְךָ עֶלְבּוֹן גָּדוֹל מִזֶּה.

because, as Rabbi Moshe Kordevero, of blessed memory, states, "For there is no greater insult than this." According to Rabbi Moshe Kordevero, God is an affronted King because whenever a person sins, he causes offense to God. The source of a person's soul is literally a portion of God above. When he sins, he pulls with him his entire soul, together with its supernal root in the Divine, into impurity and the realm of the sitra aḥara. Humiliation is measured by the standard of honor befitting the person who receives the insult, as well as the lowliness of the person dealing out the insult. In this case, there is no greater insult: A person drags down the aspect of himself that is rooted in God's essence from the highest, most transcendent place above to the lowest conceivable pits of the kelippot and impurity, to a place so low that only a human being, with the power of his free choice, can descend to it.

וּבִפְרָט כַּאֲשֶׁר יִתְבּוֹנֵן הַמַּשְׂכִּיל בִּגְדוּלַּת אֵין סוֹף בָּרוּךְ הוּא מְמַלֵּא כָּל עָלְמִין וְסוֹבֵב כָּל עָלְמִין, כָּל אֶחָד וְאֶחָד לְפִי שִׁיעוּר שִׂכְלוֹ וַהֲבָנָתוֹ,

Particularly when an intelligent person contemplates the greatness of Ein Sof , blessed be He, who fills all worlds and encompasses all worlds, each according to the extent of his intellect and understanding, Not every person can grasp the vast extent of God's greatness, but every person can, according to his capacity, mindfully contemplate and comprehend some degree of it so that it will be meaningful for him. Each person should reflect upon God's infinite greatness on the one hand, how He fills all of reality and endows every iota of it with existence while transcending it entirely, and, on the other hand, how his sins drag God down from His realm of holiness, as it were, into the kelippot and impurity of the physical realm of this world.

יִתְמַרְמֵר עַל זֶה מְאֹד.

he will deeply bemoan this. The disgrace is intolerable. Someone who ponders the nature of this fall is overwhelmed with the bitterness of his status and is compelled to change it. This agony, which forces a person to change his ways, is the beginning of repentance. The first step that a person can take, then, on this path to repentance is to cultivate an awakening of immense compassion. Not every person merits feeling thirst for God, and certainly not all the time. Arousing the sensation of compassion is easier and simpler. A person need only contemplate where he is holding, acknowledge the descent and humiliation of his soul in the realm of impurity, while bringing into focus the source of that holy, divine soul. This contemplation will perforce awaken the attribute of compassion. This stage does not demand that he do anything essentially proactive. Here he is not asked to do anything specific to change his evil ways and repair any misconduct. The primal feeling of compassion for the Divine Presence in exile and the contemplation of God as "the affronted King" is enough to propel him forward and change the trajectory of his life. By evoking compassion, he ignites a chain reaction that takes him to the correct path.

וְהַב׳ לְבַטֵּשׁ וּלְהַכְנִיעַ הַקְּלִיפָּה וְסִטְרָא אָחֳרָא

The second component in the path to repentance is to crush and subdue the kelippa , the husk of impurity, and the sitra aḥara , After the feeling of anguish is evoked in the penitent because he now recognizes how his lofty soul is held captive and degraded in the kelippa of the sitra aḥara that resides within him, he can make efforts to crush and subdue it. The very act of subduing and degrading the kelippa frees his soul to set out on the path of repentance.

אֲשֶׁר כָּל חַיּוּתָהּ הִיא רַק בְּחִינַת גַּסּוּת וְהַגְבָּהָה, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״אִם תַּגְבִּיהַּ כַּנֶּשֶׁר״ וגו׳ (עובדיה א, ד).

whose entire life force is only pride and haughtiness, as it is written, "If you raise yourself like the eagle, or place your nest among the stars, from there I will bring you down – the utterance of the Lord" (Obad. 1:4). The author of the Tanya explains how the crushing of the kelippa repairs the soul. The definition of a kelippa, he says, is conceit and self-aggrandizement. The distinction between holiness and kelippa is a sense of self, the assertion of an independent, distinct selfhood, of someone who is convinced that he does not need anyone else. On the other hand, a person who bows before the glory of God, who sees himself as part of the succession of existence, striving toward the goal of being subsumed into the source of life, can no longer be totally submerged in evil.

וְהַבִּיטּוּשׁ וְהַהַכְנָעָה עַד עָפָר מַמָּשׁ זוֹהִי מִיתָתָהּ וּבִיטּוּלָהּ.

Crushing and subduing it literally to dust is its death and nullification. Since pride and arrogance comprise the fabric of the sitra aḥara's existence, its demotion is its nullification.

וְהַיְינוּ עַל יְדֵי ״לֵב נִשְׁבָּר וְנִדְכֶּה״ (תהלים נא, יט), וְלִהְיוֹת ״נִבְזֶה בְּעֵינָיו נִמְאָס״ וכו׳ (שם טו, ד).

This is achieved with a "broken and crushed heart" (Ps. 51:19), by feeling that "in his own eyes he is despised and repugnant" (Ps. 15:4) and so forth, By perceiving oneself as the most despised and repugnant person, he crushes the evil inside him. Since kelippa and self-centeredness have become the person's identity, he subdues and nullifies the kelippa by humbling himself. The author of the Tanya uses the very strong wording of "despised" and "repugnant" because this degree of intensity is needed to embark on the path of repentance. When a person is lukewarm about his status, he tends to make a contract of sorts with God: "I'll be a small god and You can be bigger. You'll be the'God of gods,' but I'll also enjoy some status." This is why the wording is so extreme: to emphasize that the "authentic and upright" path of repentance demands that a person truly realizes that he has nothing, that he has no independence to any degree. One can see the benefit of a "broken and crushed heart" in the human realm as well. When a person lives in a world that operates perfectly according to his plans, he does not need anything from anyone. Imagine a young, successful man. He succeeds at everything he attempts exactly as he planned. He lives entirely within a rational and perfectly insulated world. What will spur a person like this, who is perfectly content, to think about other things in life? Only when his core assumptions are shaken or broken. People begin to ponder lofty questions only when a crack emerges on the surface of their world. The author of the Tanya calls this crack "a broken heart." And, sometimes, God also seeps through.

וּכְמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּזּוֹהַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ (ח״ג, ה, א) עַל פָּסוּק ״זִבְחֵי אֱלֹקִים רוּחַ נִשְׁבָּרָה לֵב נִשְׁבָּר וְנִדְכֶּה״ וכו׳ (תהלים נא, יט). כִּי כָּל קָרְבָּן מִן הַבְּהֵמָה הוּא לְשֵׁם הֲוָיָ״ה הִיא מִדַּת הָרַחֲמִים. אֲבָל לְשֵׁם אֱלֹקִים הִיא מִדַּת הַדִּין אֵין מַקְרִיבִין קָרְבַּן בְּהֵמָה

as stated in the holy Zohar (3:5a) regarding the verse "Sacrifices to God [ Elokim ] are a broken spirit; You, God, will not reject a broken and crushed heart" (Ps. 51:19): For all animal offerings in the Torah are recorded as being sacrificed to God as the name of Havaya , which represents the attribute of compassion. However, to God as the name Elokim , representing the attribute of judgment, no animal offerings are sacrificed. Every time the Torah mentions sacrifices, it uses the name of Havaya, as in "When any man of you brings an offering to the Lord [Havaya ]... " (Lev. 1:2) and "a meal offering to the Lord [Havaya ]" (Lev. 2:1). In light of this, the Zohar asks, "Why does the verse from Psalms use the name Elokim when referring to'sacrifices to God' instead of the name of Havaya?"

כִּי אִם לְשַׁבֵּר וּלְהַעֲבִיר רוּחַ הַטּוּמְאָה וְהַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא,

Only to break and dispel the spirit of impurity and the sitra aḥara is there a "sacrifice to God [Elokim ]." A sacrifice to God as He is manifest through the name of Havaya has the function of drawing the petitioner close with love and compassion. However, a sacrifice to Elokim, correlating to the harsh aspect of reality and God's attribute of Gevura and judgment, entails facing the failure of one's past and breaking one's spirit, as the author of the Tanya goes on to explain. This will serve to break the spirit of impurity, the hold of the other side, the dark side of the soul and of existence, on the person and free him to change.

וְזֶהוּ רוּחַ נִשְׁבָּרָה.

This breaking of the spirit of impurity is the "broken spirit" referred to in the verse. A sacrifice to God as He is manifest through the name of Havaya consists of a cow or sheep, while a sacrifice to Elokim comes exclusively from the soul. Instead of sacrificing the animal outside of him, a person sacrifices the animal within. This internal slaughter is done by breaking his arrogant spirit, his self-centered perspective and everything that comes along with it, by relenting and offering up part or all of his ego. Interestingly, there is one sacrifice that the Torah refers to as an offering to God as Elokim: the binding of Isaac, in which God tells Abraham to sacrifice his son. God said to Abraham, "For now I know that you are God-fearing [yerei Elokim ], and you did not withhold your son, your only one, from Me" (Gen. 22:12). This was a sacrifice to Elokim, because in a certain sense, the unique drama of the binding of Isaac represented the sacrifice of Abraham and Isaac's soul.

וְהָאֵיךְ נִשְׁבְּרָה רוּחַ הַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא? כְּשֶׁהַלֵּב נִשְׁבָּר וְנִדְכֶּה וכו׳.

How is the spirit of the sitra aḥara broken? When the heart is "broken and crushed" and so on. The heart here refers to the emotions, the attributes and spirit in man through which a person has a sense of himself. Within the animal soul, these attributes manifest as the sitra aḥara in which one's sense of self is identified with his emotional attachment to the physical world. To be filled with another spirit and cultivate a new identity, a holy one, one must first disassemble and break his previous emotional framework.

וְהָאֵיךְ נִשְׁבָּר הַלֵּב וְנִדְכֶּה?

And how is the heart broken and crushed? How can a person achieve a broken heart? How does a person practically make that internal, essential switch?

הִנֵּה מְעַט מִזְּעֵיר הוּא עַל יְדֵי סִיגּוּפִים וְתַעֲנִיּוֹת בְּדוֹרוֹתֵינוּ אֵלֶּה שֶׁאֵין לָנוּ כֹּחַ לְהִתְעַנּוֹת הַרְבֵּה כְּדָוִד הַמֶּלֶךְ, כְּמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל (ירושלמי ברכות פרק ט הלכה ה) עַל פָּסוּק ״וְלִבִּי חָלַל בְּקִרְבִּי״ (תהלים קט, כב), שֶׁהֲרָגוֹ בְּתַעֲנִית.

Only a minute portion of this is accomplished through self-mortification and fasting in these times when we do not have the strength to fast excessively as King David did, as our Rabbis state regarding the verse "My heart is hollow within me" (Ps. 109:22): "He, King David, killed the spirit of impurity by fasting" (Jerusalem Talmud, Berakhot 9:5). In previous generations, such as that of King David, people practiced self-mortification and fasted extensively, in order to achieve a broken heart. As explained in the beginning of the Tanya, the abode of the evil inclination is in the left chamber of the heart. The Sages relate that through his many fasts, King David expelled the last trace of his evil inclination from his heart until it remained empty and "hollow." It is clear that physical self-affliction and fasting can help a person to break his heart because a sense of self as an entity independent of God stems from the physical vitality coursing through his body. By afflicting the body, this vitality is weakened and eventually broken. However, the author of the Tanya does not recommend this path for our times, when the strength of the average person has diminished. For more recent generations, it can even be dangerous, leading to a complete breakdown. For a person to break his ego effectively through self-mortification, he must be extremely strong. He must be capable not only of withstanding the fasting physically, but of holding himself together emotionally so that he does not break. A "broken and crushed heart" only entails breaking that one specific aspect of the human condition that boasts arrogance, pride, and self-centeredness. But this does not mean breaking the person himself. There are medications that people take to kill parasites in their bodies. If a person's body is not strong enough, the drug may kill the person along with the parasite. The same can be said of fasting and self-mortification practices: This path is not recommended for people incapable of bearing it, save for a "minute portion" of extraordinary cases.

אַךְ עִיקַּר הַכְנָעַת הַלֵּב לִהְיוֹת נִשְׁבָּר וְנִדְכֶּה וְהַעֲבָרַת רוּחַ הַטּוּמְאָה וְסִטְרָא אָחֳרָא, הוּא לִהְיוֹת מִמָּארֵי דְּחוּשְׁבָּנָא.

Rather, nowadays the primary means of subduing the heart in order that it may be broken and crushed, and thereby dispelling the spirit of impurity and the sitra aḥara , is to become a master of introspection. The author of the Tanya offers another way to achieve a broken heart: When a person makes a profound accounting of himself (with the same degree of seriousness that he checks his financial accounts, since he is the "ba'al ḥeshbon," the owner of the account), scrutinizing all his actions and experiences, categorizing them as either holy or impure, a person can achieve a broken heart. Instead of fasting, he takes a good look at himself in the mirror. If he doesn't like what he sees, and makes a true accounting of the damages, he can achieve even greater results than he might have through fasting. The behavior that generally shocks a person are his egregious acts or that which is not his norm. Becoming a "master of introspection" is the way a person can cultivate the sensitivity he needs to be jarred even by everyday life, by the little things he does. A master of introspection is, in the simplest sense, a person who reviews his ordinary life, his minor and commonplace actions, and calculates the balances, the losses against the gains, the good actions against the bad. This concept, of being a master of introspection, is implied by the ancient proclamation found in the verse "The allegorists [hamoshlim ] would say: Let us go to Ḥeshbon" (Num. 21:27). The Talmud interprets the verse homiletically: "Hamoshlim  – these are the people who rule over [hamoshlim ] their evil inclination. They will say,'Come to Ḥeshbon,' meaning,'Come and let us set aside time in our daily structure to make a soul-accounting [ḥeshbon ] and to calculate the financial loss incurred by the fulfillment of a mitzva in contrast to its reward, and the reward for committing a transgression, the pleasure and gain received, in contrast to the loss it entails'" (Bava Batra 78b). This is analogous to a business owner taking stock of his balance sheets. He may never have experienced any single loss that was cause for alarm. Yet when he scrutinizes the books, he is horrified to discover a small ongoing loss that not only drained the profits, but has brought him to the verge of bankruptcy. So too with the master of introspection: Even if nothing stands out in his day that is particularly shocking, he cultivates the sensitivity to be deeply affected even by his small mistakes, and this brings him to a broken heart. "Love covers all transgressions" (Prov. 10:12). Although a person knows his own shortcomings better than he knows anyone else's, self-love is the great cover-up. It dulls the severity of a misdeed and abates its sting. When a person truly wants to achieve a broken heart, and not just feel good about himself, he must work hard not to temper his transgressions but rather to expose them. He must conduct a profound accounting of himself to unearth the deficiencies, sins, and failures within. He must act counter to his nature, which tends to gloss over these flaws so that he does not have to deal with them. Rather, he must face them head-on to the point of self-disgust, until he cultivates a humble spirit, that of a "broken and crushed heart."

בְּעוֹמֶק הַדַּעַת לְהַעֲמִיק דַּעְתּוֹ וּבִינָתוֹ

With deep mindfulness, he should focus his mind and understanding A spiritual accounting must be conducted with "deep mindfulness," since a superficial accounting does not awaken the soul deep within and therefore cannot spark a fundamental life change. True accounting and exposure bring up that which would not necessarily come to mind if a person gives only a cursory look at his day. Exhaustive contemplation, threshing out one's actions, takes work, and one must demarcate enough time and a fitting setting to do so.

שָׁעָה אַחַת

for a certain period of time The Hebrew word sha'ah can connote a nondescript period of time, not necessarily a precise hour of sixty minutes. The practice of deeply mindful contemplation that engenders a soul-stirring experience takes time. It is impossible to succeed at this practice without setting aside time for it. Every person should allot the amount of time that he is capable of reserving for this accounting. The word sha'ah can also mean turning or facing, as in "The Lord turned [vayisha ] toward Abel and to his offering" (Gen. 4:4). This suggests that the contemplation should "turn" the soul inside out so that it "faces" examination. The two meanings are linked: One should allot the amount of time necessary for the inner recesses of the soul to truly turn and face scrutiny.

בְּכָל יוֹם אוֹ לַיְלָה לִפְנֵי תִּיקּוּן חֲצוֹת,

every day, or at night before reciting Tikkun Ḥatzot , It is explained that the call for a daily accounting addresses tzaddikim whose divine service reflects the daily rhythm of the worlds. In the worlds, day and night correspond to joy and anguish. Ḥatzot, halakhic midnight, is the point where the two meet. The divine service of tzaddikim must echo and respond to that spiritual reality, which entails conducting their spiritual accounting at that time every single day. The average person does not necessarily need to do this accounting every day but rather every week or, at the least, once a month.

לְהִתְבּוֹנֵן בְּמַה שֶּׁפָּעַל וְעָשָׂה בַּחֲטָאָיו

to reflect how through his transgressions he brought about A master of introspection reflects particularly on the negative effect of his transgressions. If he were to conduct only a superficial, cursory accounting, he may walk away feeling satisfied with himself. This feeling does not signify that he is strong of character or wise. He may be the total opposite and still feel arrogant about his virtues. To achieve a broken heart and to avoid deceiving himself, he must reflect upon the details of his actions and on the objective reality that he brought about through his sins.

בְּחִינַת גָּלוּת הַשְּׁכִינָה כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל,

the exile of the Divine Presence, as stated above, This contemplation has two angles. The first concerns the general exile of the Divine Presence caused by a person's sins, as explained in previous chapters. One must reflect on how he brought about its exile and how the more he sins, the deeper into exile he sends it.

וְגָרַם לַעֲקוֹר נִשְׁמָתוֹ וְנַפְשׁוֹ הָאֱלֹקִית מֵחַיֵּי הַחַיִּים בָּרוּךְ הוּא וְהוֹרִידָהּ לִמְקוֹם הַטּוּמְאָה וְהַמָּוֶת, הֵן הֵיכָלוֹת הַסִּטְרָא אָחֳרָא,

and caused his spirit and divine soul to be uprooted from the infinite source of life, blessed be He, and brought it down to the realm of impurity and death, which are the sanctums of the sitra aḥara , The second angle of reflection is more personal. He should contemplate how he exchanges the source of his vitality when he decides to commit a transgression. That which was previously imbued with holiness now is nourished by the worlds of impurity. Turning toward evil necessarily entails abandoning holiness, just as turning toward holiness necessitates disconnecting from evil. A person cannot face partially one way and partially the other way at the same time. If he turns to do evil, he uproots his body and soul, his whole essence, from the realm of the sacred and lowers them into the realms of evil.

וְנַעֲשֵׂית בִּבְחִינַת מֶרְכָּבָה אֲלֵיהֶם לְקַבֵּל מֵהֶם שֶׁפַע וְחַיּוּת לְהַשְׁפִּיעַ לְגוּפוֹ כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל.

where the divine soul became a vehicle for them, the sanctums of the sitra aḥara, so that he received sustenance and life force from them to channel into his body, as stated above. Just as a person can become a vehicle for the Divine Presence, where the Divine Presence dwells within him and permeates all his limbs so that his body literally emanates holiness, a person can also become a vehicle for evil and death. Someone who is nourished by the kelippa becomes its slave. His whole life is subject to it, and he becomes its vehicle of expression in the world. A mitzva unites its doer with the Divine, making him a medium for spreading divine oneness in the world, while a person who sins becomes a tool that serves the powers of evil. That same person who previously had his own sense of self is now reduced to the role of instrument, almost like a toy, in the hands of the forces of impurity. It is not even a partnership, since in essence he does not receive anything from it (the vitality that he does receive was originally taken from him). He is no longer himself. He has become nothing but a vessel and implement for the quintessential evil that pulses through him. A person in this situation needs to reflect on the fact that just receiving his vitality from the sitra aḥara makes him into a vehicle for death in the world, as if he is carrying the tools of the angel of death wherever he goes. He is like a person who realizes one day that he is a carrier of a fatal disease. Even if he himself does not become ill, he is a cause of death for countless people. He lives with death and transmits it to the people around him.

וְזֶהוּ שֶׁאָמְרוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״רְשָׁעִים בְּחַיֵּיהֶם קְרוּיִים מֵתִים״ (ברכות יח, ב), כְּלוֹמַר שֶׁחַיֵּיהֶם נִמְשָׁכִים מִמְּקוֹם הַמָּוֶת וְהַטּוּמְאָה

This is the meaning of our Rabbis' statement "The wicked even during their lifetime are called dead" (Berakhot 18b). In other words, their life is drawn from the realm of death and impurity. Since the source of a wicked person's so-called life is the force of impurity and death, he is essentially dead even while still alive. There is no difference between his life and his death. While alive, he does not transmit life but rather receives and spreads energy from the same source as death.

(וְכֵן מַה שֶּׁכָּתוּב: ״לֹא הַמֵּתִים יְהַלְלוּ״ וגו׳ (תהלים קטו, יז), אֵינוֹ כְּלוֹעֵג לָרָשׁ חַס וְשָׁלוֹם,

(Similarly, the verse "The dead cannot praise the Lord... " (Ps. 115:17) is not meant as a mockery of the poor, that is, those who are physically dead, God forbid. The "poor" here refers to the deceased, who literally have nothing, not even the ability to accrue mitzvot. But the verse is not referring to the dead. This would be like a living person mocking the dead, who are incapable of performing mitzvot, saying, "Look at me, I can praise God, and you can't!" This would be ethically indecent and is even prohibited according to Jewish law.

אֶלָּא הַכַּוָּונָה עַל הָרְשָׁעִים שֶׁבְּחַיֵּיהֶם קְרוּיִים מֵתִים,

Rather, it refers to the wicked, who even during their lifetime are called dead, The verse does not refer to tzaddikim who are no longer in the world, but rather to the wicked while they are alive, since even while living they are considered dead.

שֶׁמְּבַלְבְּלִים אוֹתָם בְּמַחְשָׁבוֹת זָרוֹת בְּעוֹדָם בְּרִשְׁעָם וְאֵינָם חֲפֵיצִים בִּתְשׁוּבָה כַּנּוֹדָע).

since they are befuddled by illicit thoughts while yet in their wickedness and therefore do not desire repentance, as is well known.) One of the definitions of life is that something that is living has the potential to change, to mend and return to the path of good. A dead person cannot grow. When circumstance does not allow a person to repent, for whatever reason, he is considered dead. If a person does not experience some sort of external shock that causes him to change his thinking, he continues to think and feel like he did yesterday. The author of the Tanya is teaching here that a person who wants to take the initiative and move from a spiritual state that is informed by evil to a state of repentance, he must invest in soul work to allow new thoughts and feelings of holiness to arise and take root. The illicit thoughts of the wicked do not allow them to do this spiritual work. Even when thoughts of repentance arise in the wicked, their inner world is too filled with confusion, illicit thoughts, and distractions for those thoughts to have any traction. All that static prevents the thoughts from crystalizing into the type of serious thinking that can penetrate the soul. Thus "the dead cannot praise the Lord" is not a mockery of the deceased. Rather, it is an assessment of the spiritual demise of a person who is no longer capable of praising God.

וְאַף מִי שֶׁלֹּא עָבַר עַל עֲוֹן כָּרֵת וְגַם לֹא עַל עֲוֹן מִיתָה בִּידֵי שָׁמַיִם שֶׁהוּא הוֹצָאַת זֶרַע לְבַטָּלָה וּכְהַאי גַּוְונָא, אֶלָּא שְׁאָר עֲבֵירוֹת קַלּוֹת,

This even applies to someone who has not committed a sin punishable by karet , nor a sin punishable by death at the hand of Heaven, such as wasteful emission of semen and the like, but rather violated only other, more minor transgressions. These severe transgressions that incur karet or death at the hand of Heaven totally sever the connection between a person and the side of holiness, to the extent that he receives his vitality from the realms of impurity his entire life. Someone who never succumbed to such grave sins might consider himself exempt from being classified as wicked.

אַף עַל פִּי כֵן מֵאַחַר שֶׁהֵן פּוֹגְמִים בִּנְשָׁמָה וְנֶפֶשׁ הָאֱלֹקִית,

Nevertheless, since these minor transgressions also blemish the divine spirit and soul, An individual who wants to achieve a broken heart may mistakenly make an accounting only for his severe transgressions, but he must also scrutinize his minor transgressions, since they too blemish a person's divine soul.

וְכִמְשַׁל פְּגִימַת וּפְסִיקַת חֲבָלִים דַּקִּים כַּנִּזְכָּר לְעֵיל,

as in the analogy of the blemished and detached strands of a cord discussed above (chap. 5), Above, the author of the Tanya depicts the connection between the divine soul and its life source, God, as an umbilical cord. He also depicts this cord as a rope woven of 613 strands, corresponding to the 613 mitzvot. When a person transgresses a minor prohibition, he may not sever the lifeline entirely, but he does cut some of the strings.

הֲרֵי בְּרִיבּוּי הַחֲטָאִים יָכוֹל לִהְיוֹת פְּגָם כְּמוֹ בְּלָאו אֶחָד שֶׁיֵּשׁ בּוֹ כָּרֵת אוֹ מִיתָה.

it turns out that the proliferation of minor transgressions can constitute a blemish equivalent to the blemish caused by a single prohibition punishable by karet or death at the hand of Heaven. If one cuts strand after strand of a rope, ultimately the entire rope becomes severed. Likewise, a person can slowly snip away his life, little by little.

וַאֲפִילּוּ בִּכְפִילַת חֵטְא אֶחָד פְּעָמִים רַבּוֹת מְאֹד.

Even the repetition of a single minor transgression numerous times can cause this. In the analogy of the cord woven of 613 strands, one might conclude that only by transgressing many different sins can one end up totally severing his cord. But the author of the Tanya points out that this can happen even by transgressing the same sin many times. The degree to which an individual feels the influence of his lifeline is mostly subjective and varies from one person to the next. At what point does he feel that his cord has been disconnected? At what point does an alarm go off in this mind alerting him that he has fallen into a crisis situation? At what point does he get catapulted into action and make a significant life change? This depends on each person and his context. It depends on the sin and the way in which it was committed. Sometimes, when a person commits a particular sin a second or third time, it makes a bigger impression on him and he is roused into action. More often, transgressing the same sin multiple times leaves less of an impression on the doer because it becomes his norm until he no longer thinks of it as a sin. This makes repentance much harder.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁהִמְשִׁיל הַנָּבִיא הַחֲטָאִים לְעָנָן הַמַּאֲפִיל אוֹר הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ,

Thus the prophet compared sins to a cloud that dims the light of the sun, The author of the Tanya offers another analogy to explain this point. The life that God endows us with is like the light of the sun that shines on the earth. All of existence receives this life in the form of light and warmth from the sun. This is similar to how we receive our vitality from God. The life force perpetually emanates, like the light of the sun that constantly shines down on the earth. However, just as a cloud may come and obstruct the sunlight from reaching the earth, a person's sins obstruct the light of God from shining upon him in a revealed way. The sun actually shines just as much on a rainy day as on a bright day. It is only the cloud that blocks the light of the sun from people. Similarly, sin creates shade, so to speak, and conceals the divine light from the sinner.

כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״מָחִיתִי כָעָב פְּשָׁעֶיךָ״ (ישעיה מד, כב), הֵם עֲבֵירוֹת חֲמוּרוֹת [הַמַּבְדִּילִים] בֵּין פְּנִימִית הַשְׁפָּעַת שֵׁם הֲוָיָ״ה בָּרוּךְ הוּא לַנֶּפֶשׁ הָאֱלֹקִית, כְּהַבְדָּלַת עָנָן עָב וְחָשׁוּךְ הַמַּבְדִּיל בֵּין הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ לָאָרֶץ וְלַדָּרִים עָלֶיהָ עַל דֶּרֶךְ מָשָׁל. וְ״כֶעָנָן חַטֹּאתֶיךָ״ הֵן עֲבֵירוֹת קַלּוֹת שֶׁאָדָם דָּשׁ בַּעֲקֵבָיו הַמַּבְדִּילִים כְּהַבְדָּלַת עָנָן קַל וְקָלוּשׁ עַל דֶּרֶךְ מָשָׁל.

as the verse states, "I have wiped away your transgressions like a thick cloud, and your sins like a cloud" (Isa. 44:22). The "thick cloud" represents grave sins, which place a barrier between the internal aspect of the life-giving sustenance from the name of Havaya and the divine soul, analogous to the separation of a thick, dark cloud that comes between the sun and the earth along with its inhabitants. "And your sins like a cloud" refers to minor transgressions that a person tends to disregard, which form a separation analogous to a thin, wispy cloud. Every transgression creates an obstruction. The difference between a severe transgression and a minor one is simply in the degree of the barrier's opacity.

וְהִנֵּה כְּמוֹ שֶׁבַּמָּשָׁל הַזֶּה, אִם מֵשִׂים אָדָם כְּנֶגֶד אוֹר הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בְּחַלּוֹן מְחִיצּוֹת קַלּוֹת וּקְלוּשׁוֹת לָרוֹב מְאֹד, הֵן מֵאֲפִילוֹת כְּמוֹ מְחִיצָּה אַחַת עָבָה וְיוֹתֵר.

Following this analogy, if a person would place a great number of thin, wispy shades over a window to block the light of the sun, they would darken no less than a single thick shade and perhaps more. Despite how wispy and virtually transparent barriers may be, when they are layered one on top of the other, they generate darkness equivalent to a single thick barrier.

וְכָכָה מַמָּשׁ הוּא בַּנִּמְשָׁל בְּכָל עֲוֹנוֹת שֶׁאָדָם דָּשׁ בַּעֲקֵבָיו,

It is literally the same in the matter at hand regarding all minor transgressions that a person tends to disregard A person can become disconnected from living an authentic Jewish life, not only due to a very severe transgression, but also through a minor sin. It may be so minor that it is almost imperceptible, but when he does it repeatedly, it shrouds him more and more until it darkens his entire soul, and the connection between his soul below and the source of illumination above becomes extinguished entirely. There are some sins that people trivialize until they transgress them almost absent-mindedly, hardly realizing that they are doing something wrong. They end up transgressing such sins numerous times, adding layer upon layer of darkness until the divine light cannot penetrate at all. For this reason, these transgressions can wreak more damage than a transgression that warrants the punishment of karet. The story is told of two people who went to a sage to ask for penance. One had transgressed a severe sin, while the other was guilty of breaching minor transgressions. The sage instructed the first man to bring him a large stone and the second to collect a handful of pebbles. After both brought what they were told, the sage instructed them to return the stones to their places. The one who brought the large stone was able to return it to its place easily, while the man who gathered pebbles no longer knew where to put them. Rambam lists five impediments to repentance. Among them is when a person does not realize that he should repent because he undervalues the sins he committed. The problem with minor transgressions is that when they build up, they darken the soul no less than severe transgressions, but it is totally unbeknownst to the wrongdoer. In this sense, a severe transgression can, post facto, work for the betterment of its doer because it shocks him into making a significant life change in its wake. But he is not moved by the minor transgressions that he disregards because he hardly notices them, yet they will darken his soul and slowly kill him, and he does not even realize that he is dying.

וּמִכָּל שֶׁכֵּן הַמְפוּרְסָמוֹת מִדִּבְרֵי רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל, שֶׁהֵן מַמָּשׁ כַּעֲבוֹדָה זָרָה וְגִילּוּי עֲרָיוֹת וּשְׁפִיכוּת דָּמִים.

and certainly the well-known minor sins that according to the statements of our Rabbis are literally tantamount to idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and murder. Certain transgressions are not explicitly mentioned in the Torah, and neither are their punishments. From a halakhic standpoint, they are considered minor transgressions or not even prohibited at all. Yet still the Sages taught that from an inside perspective, they are very serious and tantamount to the most severe transgressions of the Torah.

כְּמוֹ הַעֲלָמַת עַיִן מִן הַצְּדָקָה, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: ״הִשָּׁמֶר לְךָ פֶּן יִהְיֶה דָבָר עִם לְבָבְךָ בְלִיַּעַל״ וגו׳ (דברים טו, ט), וּבְלִיַּעַל הִיא עוֹבֵד עֲבוֹדַת אֱלִילִים וכו׳.

For example, ignoring an opportunity to give charity is tantamount to idolatry, as it is written, "Beware, lest there be a wicked [ beliya'al ] thought in your heart... ​and your eye will be miserly toward your indigent brother, and you will not give him... " (Deut. 15:9), and the Rabbis taught (Ketubot 68b) that the word beliya'al , wicked, is a reference to idolatry and so on. When a person ignores an appeal for charity, he does not think he is doing anything wrong. He is simply removing himself from a situation that necessitates his giving. Based on the implication of the verse and the explicit condemnation of the Sages, this person is actually considered an idol worshipper.

וְהַמְסַפֵּר בִּגְנוּת חֲבֵירוֹ הִיא לָשׁוֹן הָרַע, הַשְּׁקוּלָה כַּעֲבוֹדָה זָרָה וְגִילּוּי עֲרָיוֹת וּשְׁפִיכוּת דָּמִים.

Another example is one who speaks negatively about his peer, constituting the transgression of malicious speech, which is equivalent to idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and murder combined. Malicious speech occasionally stems from good intentions and may be entirely true. Therefore, the speaker could be utterly unaware that he is committing a transgression because it is so minor and so subtle. The truth is that he is considered just as spiritually damaged as a person who commits the worst transgressions.

וְכָל הַכּוֹעֵס כְּאִלּוּ עוֹבֵד עֲבוֹדָה זָרָה (שבת קה, ב), וְכֵן מִי שֶׁיֵּשׁ בּוֹ גַּסּוּת הָרוּחַ (סוטה ד, ב). וְכָהֵנָּה רַבּוֹת בַּגְּמָרָא.

Our Rabbis also state that whoever becomes angry is considered as though he worshipped idols (Shabbat 105b), and likewise the Rabbis said the same of someone who harbors arrogance (Sota 4b). The same applies to many similar minor transgressions mentioned in the Talmud, People commit these sins ubiquitously, almost incidentally, but they are considered severe due to the degree of spiritual damage they cause, tantamount to the worst conceivable sins. Although a person may never have murdered anyone in his life, and is not even capable of such an act, he may still speak maliciously against another person and thereby join the ranks of murderers. He might lose his temper and become commensurate to an idolater.

וְתַלְמוּד תּוֹרָה כְּנֶגֶד כּוּלָּן,

and neglect of Torah study is equal to all of them, Neglecting the mitzva of Torah study is another sin for which the Torah does not give a punishment, yet its negative consequences are equal to the violation of all the mitzvot combined. One way to understand this is that if a person holds on to the Torah, he can rectify any sins he has committed. When he lets go of it, even if during that time he does not commit any other transgressions, ultimately he will become disconnected from it entirely. Another reason the neglect of Torah study is so grave is because it is such a common problem. The mitzva of Torah study is not relegated to a particular time, and it is binding during every available minute of a person's day. This essentially means that if the person does not have a good reason to be occupied with something else at any given time, he has to account for his neglect of Torah study.

כְּמַאֲמַר רַבּוֹתֵינוּ ז״ל: ״וִיתֵּר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עַל עֲבוֹדָה זָרָה״ וכו׳. וְלָכֵן סִידְּרוּ בִּקְרִיאַת שְׁמַע שֶׁעַל הַמִּטָּה לְקַבֵּל עָלָיו ד׳ מִיתוֹת בֵּית דִּין וכו׳.

in accordance with our Rabbis' statement "The Holy One, blessed be He, overlooked the idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and murder committed by the Jewish people, but He did not overlook their neglect of Torah study" (Jerusalem Talmud, Ḥagiga 1:7). This is why they instituted that in the recital of the bedtime Shema one accept upon himself the four types of court-imposed death penalties and so on. The bedtime Shema includes confession for one's sins (since one of the purposes for the recitation of the bedtime Shema is to conduct a personal spiritual accounting and repent before one retires for the night). Some versions include one's acceptance of the four court-imposed death penalties upon oneself. Although ostensibly these court-imposed death penalties are reserved only for people who commit the egregious transgressions that incur the death penalty, it is apparent that they are actually relevant to almost every individual, even someone who never murdered, desecrated the Sabbath, or engaged in illicit sexual relations. In terms of the damage that transgressions inflict on the soul, there are many that inflict just as much damage as the cardinal sins. While transgressions such as arrogance and neglecting Torah study may not warrant a death penalty by the court, they do incur an obligation to Heaven and they cause comparable damage. When a person seeks repentance to rectify these transgressions, he is required to accept upon himself, at least mentally, the court-imposed death penalties.

מִלְּבַד שֶׁעַל פִּי הַסּוֹד כָּל הַפּוֹגֵם בָּאוֹת יוֹ״ד שֶׁל שֵׁם הֲוָיָ״ה כְּאִילּוּ נִתְחַיֵּיב סְקִילָה, וְהַפּוֹגֵם בָּאוֹת הֵ״א כְּאִילּוּ נִתְחַיֵּיב שְׂרֵיפָה, וּבָאוֹת וָי״ו כְּאִילּוּ נִתְחַיֵּיב הֶרֶג, וּבָאוֹת הֵ״א אַחֲרוֹנָה כְּאִילּוּ נִתְחַיֵּיב חֶנֶק.

Besides, according to the Kabbala, whoever blemishes the letter yod of the name of Havaya is considered as though he is liable to be executed by stoning. One who blemishes the first letter heh of the name is considered as though he is liable to be executed by burning. One who blemishes the letter vav is considered as though he is liable to beheading, and one who blemishes the final letter heh is considered as though he is liable to strangulation. Besides the correlation between the subtler soul-damaging transgressions and the cardinal sins that warrant the death penalty, there is a connection between the four letters of the name of Havaya and the four court-imposed death penalties. The four letters of the name lend existence to reality and cause the channels of vitality that pump life force into the various aspects of the worlds to manifest. Someone who blemishes one of the letters of the name (the author of the Tanya goes on to explain which specific transgressions cause these blemishes) essentially blemishes the vitality of the worlds and becomes liable to one of the four court-imposed death penalties. Thus certain transgressions that according to the Kabbala blemish the letters of the divine name incur the court-imposed death penalties on the spiritual plane. The teachings of Hasidism explain that blemishing the letters of the name of Havaya creates a flaw in the channels that draw down sustenance to the worlds and thereby cause vitality to be drawn to the kelippot. Instead of furthering the purpose of existence, which is the manifestation of the Creator's will, the sustenance trickles to superficial phenomena that under certain conditions become the forces of actual impurity and sitra aḥara that oppose the Divine.

וְהַמְבַטֵּל קְרִיאַת שְׁמַע פּוֹגֵם בָּאוֹת יוֹ״ד,

One who neglects the recitation of the Shema blemishes the letter yod . The text of the bedtime Shema also specifies which transgressions correspond to which letters of the name. Neglecting to recite the Shema causes a blemish in the letter yod because the recitation of the Shema constitutes the unification of every aspect of God, and the letter yod, which is nothing more than a point, represents the inception of all of reality wherein the Divine is manifest in His undifferentiated unity.

וּתְפִילִּין בָּאוֹת הֵ״א,

One who refrains from donning tefillin blemishes the first letter heh . One possible explanation for this correspondence is that tefillin engenders the drawing down of consciousness and intellect, which is the primary role of the sefira of Bina, the attribute that corresponds to the first heh in the name of Havaya.

וְצִיצִית בָּאוֹת וָי״ו,

One who refrains from wearing tzitzit blemishes the letter vav . One way of understanding this is that the mitzva of tzitzit corresponds to all the mitzvot, as the verse says, "And you shall see it [tzitzit ] and remember all the commandments of the Lord... " (Num. 15:39). It therefore corresponds to the letter vav of the name, which parallels the six emotive sefirot (Ḥesed through Yesod ), which are the root of all the mitzvot.

וּתְפִלָּה בָּאוֹת הֵ״א וכו׳.

Neglecting prayer blemishes the final letter heh and so on. Since the direction of prayer is from below to above, it is expressed by the final heh of the name, which corresponds to the sefira of Malkhut. As King David, the personification of Malkhut, said, "I am prayer" (Ps. 19:4).

וּמִזֶּה יָכוֹל הַמַּשְׂכִּיל לִלְמוֹד לִשְׁאָר עֲוֹנוֹת וַחֲטָאִים,

From these examples, the intelligent person can extrapolate to other sins and transgressions, Based on these correlations, the intelligent person can extrapolate which letter corresponds to which sin and therefore to which of the four court-imposed death penalties it incurs. The broader lesson that emerges from these details is how severe every transgression is, whether neglecting to fulfill a positive commandment or violating a prohibition. Each and every sin blemishes the great name, the name of Havaya.

וּבִיטּוּל תּוֹרָה כְּנֶגֶד כּוּלָּן.

and the neglect of Torah study is equal to all of them. The neglect of Torah study is the most common of all transgressions and also lies at their core. In the abstract sense, all the positive commandments and prohibitions are fulfilled through the study of Torah. In the practical sense, if a person does not study, he will not know how to be careful in fulfilling the mitzvot. This chapter lays out the "authentic and upright path" that one should take to achieve repentance. The