ביאור על הנ״ל

This short maamar explains the one before it in Torah Ohr, on the verses “Would that you were like a brother to me” (Song of Songs 8:1–2), which contrasted those who study Torah constantly with people occupied in business, who serve G‑d “outside.” Here the Alter Rebbe grounds that contrast in two roots of souls, Yosef and Binyamin.

Isaiah promises that all of Israel are tzaddikim, righteous. The Zohar names Rachel’s two sons as two kinds of tzaddik, Yosef the higher and Binyamin the lower, and every Jewish soul is rooted in one of these two levels.

Because each soul belongs to one of the two tzaddikim, the verse can call the whole people tzaddikim. The higher tzaddik is the link between Atzilus, the world still one with G‑d, and Beriah, the first world of separate existence; the Zohar reads “for all (kol) in heaven and on earth” as the tzaddik, the Sefirah of Yesod, and adds the Targum’s rendering, ‘which holds fast to heaven and earth.’

The middle bar of the Mishkan ran through all the boards from one end to the other, and the Zohar identifies it with Yaakov. So the flow of light passes through Yaakov, who holds all the supernal emotive attributes together, from the Infinite Light down to the supernal speech, the divine word that is the source of the lower worlds.

A person’s feelings are what move him to give of himself: when he loves someone, he speaks to him. So too above, the emotive attributes (Yaakov) carry the flow, but the actual link between giver and recipient is Yesod, ‘foundation’: Yosef, whom the verse names as “the generations of Yaakov,” the higher tzaddik.

Bestowal from above is not enough; the recipient must also bind himself upward, or the flow will not be taken in. In the service of G‑d this is self-sacrifice, giving oneself over entirely, and it is the level of Binyamin, the lower tzaddik, who binds Beriah to Atzilus from below.

Birth is a revelation, a movement from above downward, while Binyamin’s whole nature runs the other way: the self-nullification of the lower worlds and their absorption into Atzilus. That is why Rachel’s labor with him was hard.

The same two directions, down from above and up from below, appear among the mitzvos performed in deed. Some of them, shofar, lulav, sukkah, tzitzis and tefillin, draw divine light down from above.

Other mitzvos are ‘elevations,’ in which something from below is raised up to G‑d, such as the sacrifices and the gift of the first shearing of the sheep to the kohen.

Isaiah’s “great shall be the peace of your children” is read in this light. Peace means the bond between giver and recipient, and it comes in two forms: the flow from above, through Yosef, and the ascent from below, through Binyamin.

Of the two, the peace that comes through Yosef is the one the verse calls “great peace.” The two cherubim on the Ark, one at each end, also stand for the two tzaddikim, and the first of them is Yosef, who draws the Infinite Light down as far as the level of the supernal speech.

The Torah calls Yosef a “lad,” and the Sages explain the word keruv, cherub, as ke-ravya, ‘like a child’; so Yosef is the cherub. The Zohar on Parshas Vayeshev reads “Would that you were like a brother to me” as Knesses Yisrael’s plea that G‑d be to her ‘like Yosef toward his brothers,’ whom he fed and sustained in the famine.

The second cherub, “from the end on that side,” is Binyamin: the recipient’s bond, rising from below.

The cherubim’s faces turned “each toward his brother” are the joining of the two directions, the flow from above meeting the ascent from below. Since the Temple was destroyed this joining is no longer revealed, so Knesses Yisrael pleads for G‑d to be “like a brother” once more.

As the preceding maamar explained, this brotherhood is renewed now through “nursing at my mother’s breasts,” the study of the Oral Torah. Such study belongs to the souls rooted in Yosef, the higher tzaddik, and they are the ones called ‘brothers’ to G‑d.

Torah study works through thought and speech, so the light it draws down reaches mainly the inner dimension of the worlds. For it to reach their outer dimension as well, the verse continues, “I would find you outside.”

That outward reach comes through souls of Binyamin’s level, whose service is mostly in deed, especially charity and acts of kindness; through these, the light reaches even this lowly physical world. The text refers the reader to the Alter Rebbe’s letter in Iggeres HaKodesh that opens with “And David made a name,” on the power of charity.

The Zohar explains “I would kiss you” as the cleaving of spirit to spirit. A physical kiss comes from a love so inward that it cannot be put into any vessel; it is too deep for words.

The parenthesis explains why: the letters of speech are the vessels through which feelings are expressed, but they cannot contain so great a love, so it is expressed only in a kiss.

In the same way, the practical mitzvos done by Binyamin-souls draw light from Akudim, a level where the lights are ‘bound’ together, above being invested in vessels. Investment in vessels begins only with Atzilus, and even there “He and His vessels are one”; in Akudim there is no such investment at all. The Tzemach Tzedek (Or HaTorah) ties this to Etz Chaim, where the Akudim are lights that issue from the mouth of Adam Kadmon, the primordial configuration of light.

The reason is that Binyamin’s elevations raise the sparks refined from the World of Tohu (‘chaos’), whose lights were likewise above investment in vessels; but in Tohu the vessels could not hold the lights and shattered, as they did not in Akudim.

By refining and raising the sparks of Tohu, Binyamin-souls draw light from Akudim, and that is the ‘kiss’: a level above speech, as the love in a kiss is beyond words.

The text refers to the Alter Rebbe’s discourse on Parshas Beshalach, which explains that at the Splitting of the Sea Israel was told “you shall be silent,” because speech has its root in Chochmah while what was revealed then was higher. That explanation helps show why the ‘kiss’ stands above speech.

The next verse, “I would lead you, I would bring you into my mother’s house,” describes this higher light. It comes from above Imma Ila’ah, the supernal Binah (‘my mother’), and only afterward is it clothed in Imma, ‘my mother’s house’; earlier the verse said “nursing at my mother’s breasts,” drawing from Imma itself.

Nursing from Imma itself let the Torah scholar be “like a brother”; here the verse adds “you would teach me”: from this higher light one is only a recipient, a pupil, not a brother on an equal footing.

So lofty a source leaves room only to receive, as in the words of Isaiah, “My words which I have put in your mouth”: words placed in one’s mouth from above.

The Talmud tells that Rabbi Elazar ben Pedas was promised, in the World to Come, thirteen rivers of pure balsam oil. These allude to light drawn from the thirteen tikkunim of the beard, channels of the thirteen attributes of mercy, which issue from Mocha Stima’ah, the hidden brain. Likkutei Torah, Shir HaShirim, explains these rivers as a level higher than plain oil, and therefore fragrant, and refers back to this passage.

Plain oil stands for Chochmah, but balsam oil has fragrance, and fragrance is a makif, an encompassing quality that is sensed rather than taken in; so it alludes to the flows from Chochmah within Keser, a level above vessels. The text refers to the discourse on Parshas Nasso, which, as the Kehot note suggests, is Likkutei Torah’s explanation of the anointing oil, blended with spices, as midway between the inner and the encompassing.

Wine follows the same pattern as oil: plain wine stands for Binah, and spiced wine, which has fragrance too, is the revelation within Binah of delight from Atika, the innermost level of Keser.

The delight of the spiced wine is drawn down through the iskafya, the effortful self-mastery, of people occupied in business who set fixed times for Torah study, as the preceding maamar explained.