Tanya Yomi · Beginner – Jewish Basics · Deep-Dive

Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:1

Deep-DiveBeginner – Jewish BasicsDecember 31, 2025

Hook

Ever feel like you're trying your hardest to be a good person, maybe even succeeding most of the time, but there's still this tiny voice, this little nagging feeling, that tells you you could be doing more? Or maybe you've noticed that even when you feel really connected to something good and holy, there's still a part of you that gets distracted by, well, everything else? It’s like you've cleaned up your room, but there’s still a sock under the bed. You know it’s there, you could get it, but it’s not really getting in your way, so maybe you’ll just leave it for now. Or perhaps you’re someone who feels like they’ve really wrestled their inner demons into submission, only to find that sometimes, just sometimes, they peek out from under the rug. If any of that sounds familiar, then you’re in great company! Today, we’re going to dive into a text that talks about exactly this – the different levels of being a “good person” and what it means to truly transform the less-than-good parts of ourselves. We're not aiming for perfection overnight, but for understanding the journey. Think of it like learning to bake. Some people make a perfectly good cake, others make a cake that’s so amazing it inspires everyone who tastes it, and then there are those who make a cake that’s not just good, but somehow transforms the very idea of what a cake can be. This text is going to help us understand these different levels of baking (or, you know, spiritual growth!).

Context

Let's set the stage for this deep dive into the Tanya. Imagine you're sitting down with a wise, incredibly patient teacher who wants to help you understand the inner workings of your own heart and soul. That's the vibe we're going for!

Who, When, and Where

  • Author: The Tanya was written by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745–1812), a towering figure in Jewish thought and the founder of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement. He was a scholar, mystic, and leader, deeply committed to making profound spiritual ideas accessible. He wasn't just writing for other rabbis; he wanted everyone to have the tools to understand their spiritual lives.
  • Time Period: Rabbi Shneur Zalman lived during a time of great intellectual and spiritual ferment in Eastern Europe. He was writing in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, a period when Hasidism, a spiritual revival movement within Judaism, was flourishing. This movement emphasized joy, connection to God in everyday life, and the accessibility of deep spiritual wisdom.
  • Place: The Tanya was primarily written in the Russian Empire, in cities like Liozna and later Lyubavichi. These were communities where Jewish life was vibrant, and where the ideas of Hasidism were spreading and being discussed. Think of it as being written in community centers, study halls, and quiet rooms where people gathered to learn and grow together.
  • What is the Tanya? The Tanya is considered the foundational work of Chabad philosophy. It’s not a simple prayer book or a collection of stories; it's a philosophical and mystical guide to understanding the human soul, our relationship with God, and how to live a meaningful Jewish life. It's designed to be studied and internalized, offering practical advice and deep insights. It's like a spiritual GPS, helping you navigate your inner world.

Key Term Defined

  • Divine Soul (Neshamah Elokit): This is the spark of God within us, our spiritual essence that connects us to the Divine. It's our higher, good inclination, the part of us that naturally wants to do good and connect with holiness. Think of it as your inner compass pointing towards goodness and truth.

Text Snapshot

Here’s a little taste of what Rabbi Shneur Zalman is talking about in this specific section of the Tanya. He’s describing different spiritual levels people can reach.

"Behold, when a person fortifies his divine soul and wages war against his animal soul to such an extent that he expels and eradicates its evil from the left part... yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness, he is called 'incompletely righteous' or 'a righteous man who suffers.' That is to say, there still lingers in him a fragment of wickedness in the left part, except that it is subjugated and nullified by the good... In truth, however, had all the evil in him entirely departed and disappeared, it would have been converted into actual goodness. The explanation of the matter is that 'a completely righteous man,' in whom the evil has been converted to goodness... has completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil."

(Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:1)

Close Reading

This passage is like a spiritual X-ray, showing us the different ways our inner lives can be structured. Rabbi Shneur Zalman is giving us a map of spiritual progress, and it’s incredibly comforting because it acknowledges that the journey isn't always linear or perfect. He’s not saying, "Be perfect or else!" He’s saying, "Here are different stages, and here’s how to understand where you are and where you’re going."

### Insight 1: The "Incompletely Righteous" – A Work in Progress

The text introduces us to the concept of the “incompletely righteous” (צדיק ורע לו). This isn't someone who's trying to be bad; it's someone who is actively fighting their negative impulses, their “animal soul.” Think of it like a diligent student who studies hard for an exam. They've done all the reading, they've attended all the lectures, and they've definitely put in the hours. They’ve managed to push the difficult concepts to the side, they’re not failing the class, and they’re doing well. But maybe there’s still one tricky chapter they haven't fully mastered, one concept that still feels a bit fuzzy, or one area where they know they could be even sharper.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman explains that this person has “expelled and eradicated its evil from the left part.” The "left part" is a metaphor for the side of our personality that tends towards negativity, selfishness, and base desires. So, this person has really put in the work to push those things away. They’ve “fortified their divine soul” – meaning they’ve strengthened their good, spiritual side. They've waged war against the parts of them that want to be lazy, or selfish, or unkind. They’ve managed to get their animal soul under control, like a well-trained dog that obeys commands but still has a bit of its wild nature.

However, the crucial part is that the "evil is not actually converted to goodness." This is the key difference. Imagine you have a piece of dark, bitter chocolate. You could try to hide it, pretend it’s not there, or push it to the back of the pantry. You’re not eating it, so in a way, it’s not affecting you positively. But it’s still dark, bitter chocolate. The "incompletely righteous" person has pushed the "evil" away, but it hasn't been transformed. It’s still there, a little fragment, a little ember, that hasn't been turned into something useful or good.

This is incredibly relatable! How many times have we told ourselves, "I'm just not going to think about that negative thought anymore," or "I'm going to ignore that selfish urge"? We succeed, in a way. We don't act on it. We don't let it derail us. But we might still feel the pull, or have a fleeting thought about it. The text acknowledges that this is a real spiritual level. It's the level of someone who is winning the battle, but hasn't necessarily achieved total victory where the "enemy" is transformed into an ally.

Think about someone who has committed to a healthy diet. They’ve stopped eating junk food (that’s eradicating the evil). They’re eating nutritious meals (fortifying the divine soul). But maybe, just maybe, they still get a craving for a greasy burger. They don’t act on it, they push it away, they focus on their salad. They’re doing great! They’re a “righteous man who suffers” in the sense that they still feel the desire for the unhealthy thing, even though they are not succumbing to it. The craving itself, the lingering "taste" of the unhealthy, is the part that hasn't been converted into a positive experience or a positive choice. It's still a struggle, even if it's a successful struggle.

Another analogy: Imagine you’re learning a new language. You’ve practiced your vocabulary, you’ve learned the grammar rules, and you can construct sentences. You’re communicating! But you might still stumble over pronunciation, or forget a specific idiom, or feel a bit self-conscious. You’ve mastered the basics and are communicating effectively, but the "evil" of not speaking perfectly, of not having native fluency, hasn’t been "converted to goodness" – meaning, you haven't reached a point where the imperfections are actually a source of deeper understanding or a unique style. You’ve successfully pushed away the inability to speak, but the imperfection still lingers as a challenge, even if a minor one. This isn't a failure; it's a stage of learning and growth.

The text clarifies that this person might even "imagine that he has driven it out and it has quite disappeared." This is because the subjugation is so effective. The negative impulse is so well-controlled that it feels gone. It’s like a strong dam holding back a river. The water is contained, and it seems like the river has vanished. But the water is still there, behind the dam. This is a testament to the strength of their divine soul, that it can so effectively manage the animal soul.

The danger, if we can call it that, is not in being this way, but in mistaking this stage for the final stage. It’s about recognizing that there’s still a process of transformation, not just suppression. This insight is crucial because it validates the efforts of anyone who is actively working on themselves, even if they don't feel "perfect." It’s a sign of genuine effort and spiritual progress.

### Insight 2: The "Completely Righteous" – Transformation into Goodness

Then, Rabbi Shneur Zalman introduces the "completely righteous" (צדיק וטוב לו). This is the next level, where the transformation is complete. It's not just about pushing away the bad; it's about turning it into something good. Imagine that dark, bitter chocolate again. Instead of just hiding it, you take that dark chocolate and you bake it into a rich, decadent cake that everyone loves and that brings joy. The original bitterness has been transformed into a delicious sweetness.

The text explains that for the completely righteous, "the evil has been converted to goodness." This means that the very impulses that could have led to negative actions are now channeled into positive ones. It's like a powerful engine that, instead of sputtering and stalling (the animal soul’s negative potential), is now running smoothly and powerfully, propelling the person towards good deeds.

How does this happen? The text says they have "completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil." This is a powerful metaphor. The "filthy garments" represent the attachments and desires that come from the negative side of our nature, the parts that are disconnected from holiness. The completely righteous person doesn't just dislike these things; they "utterly despise the pleasures of this world" that originate from these negative sources. They find no enjoyment in gratifying physical appetites when it leads them away from serving God.

Consider the analogy of a skilled chef. A chef doesn't just avoid bad ingredients; they know how to take even simple, humble ingredients and transform them into something extraordinary. They understand the essence of each ingredient and can elevate it. Similarly, the completely righteous person understands the essence of their desires. Even a desire that could be selfish or harmful is recognized and transformed. For example, a desire for recognition, which can be ego-driven, might be transformed into a desire to inspire others or to use one's talents for a greater good. The energy of the desire is still there, but its direction and purpose are holy.

The text emphasizes that this transformation comes from a profound love of God. "The explanation of the matter is that... he is called 'a righteous man who prospers,'... has completely divested himself of the filthy garments of evil. That is to say, he utterly despises the pleasures of this world, finding no enjoyment in human pleasures of merely gratifying the physical appetites instead of [seeking] the service of G–d..." This isn't about asceticism for its own sake. It's about a love for God that is so immense, so overwhelming, that the allure of worldly pleasures, which are seen as originating from "the kelipah and sitra achara," simply fades away.

Kelipah (קליפה) and Sitra Achara (סטרא אחרא) are terms from Jewish mysticism. Kelipah literally means "shell" or "husk," representing external, often impure, forces that conceal the inner holiness of things. Sitra Achara means "the other side," referring to the realm of impurity and negativity. So, when the text says these worldly pleasures originate from these realms, it means they are the kinds of enjoyments that pull us away from our spiritual connection. The completely righteous person, through their intense love for God, sees through these "shells" and rejects the negative origins.

This is like a person who is deeply in love. When you're truly in love, the attention and affection of the person you love are far more precious and fulfilling than any fleeting superficial pleasure. The distractions of the world simply don't hold the same appeal. The text uses the verse from Psalms: "I hate them with the utmost hatred; I regard them as my own enemies. Search me, [L–rd,] and know my heart…." This isn't petty hatred; it's a profound aversion to anything that disconnects them from God, an aversion that stems directly from their deep love.

The completely righteous person doesn't just not do bad things; they actively transform the potential for bad into good. Their desires are aligned with God's will, and their focus is on spiritual growth and service. They "convert darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness," as the Zohar is quoted. This is the ultimate spiritual alchemy.

Consider the difference between someone who avoids sweets because they are diabetic and someone who has developed a taste for exquisite dark chocolate that is both healthy and sophisticated. The first person is suppressing a desire out of necessity. The second person has transformed their palate and appreciation, finding profound enjoyment in something that is, in its own way, both rich and beneficial. The latter is closer to the ideal of the completely righteous person – not suppressing, but transforming and elevating.

This level is described as having "superior men" (בני עליה), literally "men of ascent." They "make evil ascend to holiness." This is an active process of elevation. It's not just about staying good; it's about actively lifting and transforming. Their service of God is not just about fulfilling commandments to feel good or to save their own soul, but a selfless desire to bring God’s presence into the world. This is a very high spiritual state, where the individual’s entire being is aligned with the Divine.

### Insight 3: The Spectrum of Spiritual Levels

The text doesn't stop at just two categories. It acknowledges that between the "incompletely righteous" and the "completely righteous" there are "myriad of degrees." This is where the concept of "one in sixty" comes in, a reference to Jewish law regarding mixtures. If a tiny amount of something non-kosher (forbidden) gets into a large amount of kosher food, the whole mixture remains kosher. The small amount is considered nullified.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman uses this legal principle metaphorically. The "minute evil remaining" in the incompletely righteous person is like that small amount of non-kosher substance. It’s still there, technically, but because it's so small and so subjugated by the good, it doesn't fundamentally alter the person's overall spiritual state. The text explains that these degrees are determined by "the quality of the minute evil remaining... as well as in relation to its proportionate abnegation." So, it's not just about how much badness is left, but also how well it's being controlled and how much the good is overpowering it.

This is like a quality control spectrum in a factory. Some products might have very minor flaws that are barely noticeable and don't affect the product's function at all. Others might have slightly more noticeable, but still manageable, flaws. And then you have the top-tier products with virtually no discernible imperfections. The Tanya is saying that spiritual attainment is similar – a vast range of experiences and levels of inner mastery.

Think about learning to play a musical instrument. Some students might be able to play a simple tune quite well, but still hit a few wrong notes. Others might be able to play a more complex piece with only occasional, minor stumbles. And then there are virtuosos who play with incredible accuracy and expressiveness. The Tanya is saying that all these musicians are on a spectrum of musical development. The ones who hit a few wrong notes are like the "incompletely righteous" – they're playing the music, but there's a tiny imperfection. The virtuosos are like the "completely righteous," where every note is perfect and contributes to a beautiful whole.

The text mentions "Eighteen thousand righteous men stand before the Holy One, blessed is He." This is a traditional Jewish saying that refers to the vast number of righteous people in every generation. But then it contrasts this with Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai's statement, "I have seen superior men (benei aliyah), and their numbers are few…." This highlights the distinction between being generally good and being truly transformative. The "eighteen thousand" might represent many who are "incompletely righteous," while the "few" are the "completely righteous" or "superior men."

This is a very encouraging thought for beginners. It means that your efforts to be good, to control your impulses, and to grow spiritually are valuable and recognized, even if you don't feel like you're at the absolute pinnacle of spiritual achievement. The vast majority of people are somewhere on this spectrum, working, growing, and moving towards goodness. The Tanya is giving us permission to be on this journey, to be imperfect but striving.

Furthermore, the text delves into what makes the "superior men" truly superior. It's not just their internal state, but their external impact. They "convert evil and make it ascend to holiness." This is a concept from Kabbalah, where actions in the physical world can have spiritual repercussions. When these "superior men" perform good deeds, or even engage with the world in a way that transforms potential negativity, they are actively raising the spiritual level of existence. This is a profound idea: that our actions have the power to bring holiness into the world.

The example of Rabbi Chiya wanting to ascend to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai's "hechal" (heavenly chamber) and hearing the condition, "Which of you, before coming here, has converted darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness?" reinforces this. It’s not enough to simply be good; one must demonstrate the ability to transform the negative. This is the hallmark of the highest spiritual attainment.

The text also explains that their service is for "the sake of the Above," meaning for the sake of God and the perfection of the world, not just for personal spiritual benefit. This is the idea of pure altruism in service. They are not just quenching their own soul's thirst for God; they are actively working to unite God's presence with the world. This is the highest form of love and devotion.

This multi-layered understanding of righteousness is a cornerstone of the Tanya. It offers a nuanced perspective that acknowledges the reality of human imperfection while simultaneously pointing towards the highest spiritual potential. It’s a roadmap that shows us not just where we are, but also the breathtaking possibilities of where we can go, and the profound impact we can have.

Apply It

This week, let's practice a mindful moment of inner transformation, inspired by the idea of converting "bitter taste into sweetness." This is a practice you can do for about 60 seconds each day.

Daily Practice: The "Sweetness Scan"

  1. Find a Quiet Moment: Before you start your day, or during a quiet break, find about 60 seconds. It doesn't need to be perfect silence, just a moment where you can focus inward.
  2. Scan for a "Bitter Taste": Gently bring to mind a minor frustration, a fleeting negative thought, or a small annoyance you experienced recently or anticipate might arise today. It could be something like:
    • The thought, "Ugh, I have so much to do today."
    • A feeling of impatience waiting in line.
    • A memory of a small disagreement.
    • The temptation to procrastinate on a task.
    • A moment of self-doubt.
    • (Don't dwell on it, just acknowledge its presence.)
  3. Identify the "Sweetness" Potential: Now, instead of letting that "bitter taste" linger or spread, consciously ask yourself: "How can I find a sliver of goodness or a positive perspective here?"
    • If it's "so much to do," can you reframe it as "so many opportunities to be productive and useful"?
    • If it's impatience, can you use that moment to practice breathing deeply and observing your surroundings without judgment?
    • If it's a disagreement, can you see it as a chance to practice understanding or forgiveness (even if just internally)?
    • If it's procrastination, can you find the "sweetness" in just taking the very first tiny step to get started?
    • If it's self-doubt, can you find the "sweetness" in acknowledging your effort and the fact that you're learning and growing?
  4. Savor the "Sweetness": For the remaining seconds, consciously hold onto that sliver of sweetness, that positive reframing. Imagine it as a tiny drop of honey dissolving the bitterness. You’re not ignoring the challenge, but you’re actively seeking and appreciating the potential for good within or around it.

This practice is about actively engaging with the idea of transformation. It’s not about pretending problems don't exist, but about training your mind to look for the light, even in small moments. It’s a tiny act of spiritual alchemy you can perform every day.

Chevruta Mini

Let's chat about these ideas! Imagine you're sitting with a friend, exploring these concepts together.

Question 1: The "Sock Under the Bed" Analogy

We talked about the "incompletely righteous" person being like someone who’s cleaned their room but left a sock under the bed. They know it's there, but it's not really bothering them.

  • Discussion Starter: How does this analogy feel to you? Does it resonate with your own experiences of trying to be good? What are some "socks under the bed" you might have in your own life that you've successfully pushed away but haven't fully dealt with? Does acknowledging them feel like a burden or a step towards further growth?

Question 2: Transforming "Bitter Taste"

The Tanya suggests that the highest level involves transforming "bitter taste into sweetness." This is a powerful idea.

  • Discussion Starter: Think about a time when you managed to turn a difficult situation into something positive or learned a valuable lesson from a challenge. What was that "bitter taste" for you, and what was the "sweetness" you discovered or created? How did that transformation feel, and what does it teach us about the potential within us?

Takeaway

Remember this: The journey of spiritual growth is a spectrum, and every step you take towards goodness, even with lingering challenges, is a meaningful part of your ascent.