Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:1

This is a fascinating passage from the Tanya, isn't it? It delves into the internal landscape of spiritual struggle with a surprising level of granularity. What's truly non-obvious here is the idea that even a righteous person who thinks they've eradicated evil might still be holding onto it, albeit in a diluted form. This isn't a simple good vs. evil binary; it’s a spectrum of spiritual attainment with some subtle distinctions that have significant implications.

Context

To truly grasp this passage, it's essential to understand the Chassidic framework it operates within. The Tanya, authored by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, is the foundational text of Chabad philosophy. It aims to make complex Kabbalistic concepts accessible to the average Jew, offering practical guidance for spiritual growth. This chapter, specifically, is part of the first section, "Likkutei Amarim" (Collected Discourses), which focuses on understanding the soul's structure and its relationship with G-d. The concept of the "animal soul" (נפש הבהמית - nefesh ha'behamit) and the "divine soul" (נפש אלקית - nefesh Elohit) is central to the Tanya's anthropology. The animal soul, with its desires and inclinations, is not inherently evil, but it can become corrupted. The divine soul, on the other hand, is a direct spark of G-d, inherently pure and yearning for connection. The struggle described here is the ongoing battle between these two forces within the individual. This passage is particularly relevant when considering the stages of spiritual development outlined in Jewish thought, moving beyond a simple binary of sinner and saint.

Text Snapshot

Here's a crucial excerpt from Tanya, Part I, Likkutei Amarim 10:1:

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—as is written, “And you shall root out the evil from within you”¹ Deuteronomy 21:21.—yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness, he is called “incompletely righteous” or “a righteous man who suffers.”² צדיק ורע לו—see ch. 1, n. 7. 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, because of the former’s minuteness. Hence he imagines that he has driven it out and it has quite disappeared. 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 and who is consequently called “a righteous man who prospers,”³ צדיק וטוב לו—i.e., “possessing (only) good.” 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, inasmuch as they are derived from and originate in the kelipah and sitra achara, for whatever is of the sitra achara is hated by the perfectly righteous man with an absolute hatred, by reason of his great love of G–d and of His holiness with profuse affection and delight and superlative devotion, as is stated above.⁴ Ch. 9. For they are antithetical one to the other. Thus it is written, “I hate them with the utmost hatred; I regard them as my own enemies. Search me, [L–rd,] and know my heart….”⁵ Psalms 139:22, 23. Hence, according to the abundance of the love toward G–d, so is the extent of the hatred toward the sitra achara and the utter contempt of evil, for contempt is as much the opposite of real love as is hatred. The “incompletely righteous” is he who does not hate the sitra achara with an absolute hatred; therefore he does not also absolutely abhor evil. And as long as the hatred and scorn of evil are not absolute, there must remain some vestige of love and pleasure in it, and the fouled garments have not entirely and absolutely been shed; therefore the evil has not actually been converted to goodness, since it still has some hold in the filthy garments, except that it is nullified because of its minute quantity and is accounted as nothing. Therefore such a person is called a righteous man, in whom the evil is subjugated and surrendered to him. Accordingly, his love of G–d is also not perfect, with the result that he is called “incompletely righteous.” Now, this grade is subdivided into myriads of degrees in respect of the quality of the minute evil remaining [in him] from any of the four evil elements, as well as in relation to its proportionate abnegation by reason of its minuteness, such as, by way of example, one in sixty, or in a thousand, or in ten thousand, and the like.⁶ In halachah, in cases of a mixture of a nonkosher element into kosher articles of human consumption (solids or liquids), the nonkosher element is deemed nonexistent if its proportion is less than 1/60th, 1/100th, etc., as the case may be. Cf., e.g., Chullin 97b ff.

Close Reading

This passage offers a rich tapestry of insights into the dynamics of spiritual struggle. Let's unpack a few key elements:

Insight 1: The "Conversion" of Evil

The central idea here is the distinction between subjugating evil and converting it. The Tanya posits that a truly elevated righteous person doesn't just suppress their evil inclination; they transform it. When evil is merely "expelled and eradicated... from the left part," it implies a forceful removal, like cleaning a room by shoving dirt into a closet. The dirt is still there, just out of sight. This is the state of the "incompletely righteous" (צדיק ורע לו). The evil, though "subjugated and nullified by the good, because of the former’s minuteness," still has a "fragment" that lingers.

The critical distinction lies in the phrase "yet the evil is not actually converted to goodness." This conversion is the hallmark of the "completely righteous" (צדיק וטוב לו). For them, the "filthy garments of evil" are not just shed; they are transmuted. This is a profound concept, suggesting that the very energies that fuel negative inclinations can, when purified and redirected, become sources of divine service. This isn't just about avoiding sin; it's about actively redeeming the potential for sin and making it holy. The footnote (6) referencing the halachic principle of mixtures, where a tiny amount of non-kosher is nullified in a large mixture, provides a tangible analogy for how this minute evil is rendered inconsequential, even though it hasn't been fundamentally transformed.

Insight 2: The Role of "Absolute Hatred" and "Utter Contempt"

The passage elaborates on the internal disposition of the completely righteous. Their hatred of the sitra achara (the "other side," the realm of evil) is not merely a passive dislike; it's an "absolute hatred" and "utter contempt." This is directly linked to their "great love of G–d." The Tanya argues that the intensity of one's love for G-d dictates the intensity of their aversion to anything that stands in opposition to G-d. The quote from Psalms 139:22, "I hate them with the utmost hatred; I regard them as my own enemies," is presented as a testament to this profound spiritual state.

The "incompletely righteous," conversely, "does not hate the sitra achara with an absolute hatred." This lack of absolute hatred means there remains "some vestige of love and pleasure in it." This is a crucial psychological insight. If one doesn't truly despise the allure of sin, even if they manage to avoid acting on it, a part of them still holds onto a residual attraction. This residual attraction prevents the complete conversion of evil into goodness. It's the lingering whisper of temptation that prevents the complete shedding of the "filthy garments." The Tanya suggests that this is why their love of G-d is not "perfect." The absence of absolute hatred for the negative is a direct indicator of an incomplete love for the Divine.

Insight 3: The Spectrum of Righteousness and the "Men of Ascent"

The Tanya concludes by detailing the vast spectrum of righteousness, subdividing the "incompletely righteous" into "myriads of degrees" based on the "quality of the minute evil remaining" and its "proportionate abnegation." This acknowledges that spiritual perfection is not an overnight achievement but a gradual journey. The mention of "eighteen thousand righteous men" (Sukkah 45b) from the Gemara is used to illustrate the sheer number of individuals occupying these various levels of "incompletely righteous."

However, the passage then pivots to the "completely righteous," who are referred to as "superior men" (benei aliyah - בני עליה), "men of ascent." This title signifies their ability to "convert darkness into light and bitter taste into sweetness," as illustrated by the Zohar's imagery. Their service is not merely for self-gratification or the quenching of their own soul's thirst for G-d. Instead, it's about actively elevating the world, uniting G-d and the Shechinah (Divine Presence) in the lower realms. This is expressed through acts of "benevolence toward his Creator" and a desire to "ingratiate himself with his father and mother," a profound metaphor for selfless service. This elevates the concept of righteousness from personal attainment to a cosmic redemptive act, where even the remnants of negativity are brought into the service of holiness.

Two Angles

The interpretation of spiritual struggle and righteousness has been a perennial theme in Jewish thought, with commentators offering diverse perspectives. Here are two classic angles:

Angle 1: Rashi's Focus on Halachic Observance and Intent

Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi, often grounds his interpretations in the literal meaning of the text and its practical implications for Jewish law (halacha). When considering the concept of "righteousness," Rashi would likely emphasize the consistent and meticulous observance of the mitzvot (commandments) as the primary indicator. For Rashi, a righteous person is someone who adheres to G-d's commands with unwavering diligence, ensuring that their actions align with divine will. While Rashi acknowledges the importance of intention, his focus would be on the outward manifestation of piety. The "evil" that needs to be rooted out would primarily refer to actions that transgress divine law. The "incompletely righteous" might be those who struggle with certain commandments or have lapses in their observance, even if their overall intentions are good. The "conversion of evil" would thus be seen as the process of gradually perfecting one's observance, bringing every aspect of one's life into alignment with Torah, rather than a radical internal transmutation of desire.

Angle 2: Ramban's Emphasis on Inner Spiritual Transformation

Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, the Ramban, often delves deeper into the mystical and philosophical underpinnings of Jewish practice. For Ramban, righteousness is less about the mere act of observance and more about the internal state of the soul. He would likely interpret the "evil" not just as prohibited actions but as the underlying impure thoughts, desires, and character traits that lead to sin. The "conversion of evil" would be a profound internal alchemy, where negative emotions and inclinations are not just suppressed but purified and redirected towards G-d. The "incompletely righteous" would be those who, while outwardly observant, still harbor internal struggles with ego, pride, or base desires, preventing them from achieving true spiritual purity. The Ramban would see the "absolute hatred" of sitra achara as a deep-seated detestation of anything that separates one from G-d, driven by an intense love for the Divine that seeks complete unity.

Practice Implication

This passage offers a powerful framework for self-assessment and growth, moving beyond a simplistic "good" or "bad" label.

Implication: The Practice of "Absolute Contempt" in Daily Choices

The Tanya's emphasis on "absolute hatred" and "utter contempt" towards sitra achara has a direct implication for our daily decision-making, particularly when faced with temptations. It's not enough to simply avoid the negative choice. We must cultivate a profound, almost visceral, aversion to it. This means actively disengaging from thoughts that entertain the allure of sin, rather than just trying to push them away. When confronted with a potentially harmful desire – be it gossip, unhealthy indulgence, or any other vice – the practice encouraged here is to not just say "no," but to actively view that desire as fundamentally alien and repugnant. This isn't about self-loathing, but about a spiritual clarity that recognizes the true nature of sitra achara as antithetical to G-d. It means reframing our internal dialogue so that the very idea of succumbing to that temptation evokes a strong, negative emotional response, mirroring the "absolute hatred" the Tanya describes. This cultivated contempt then frees up psychic energy, allowing for a more wholehearted devotion to G-d, rather than a constant, draining internal tug-of-war.

Chevruta Mini

To solidify our understanding, let's ponder some trade-offs:

Question 1: Subjugation vs. Conversion

Is it more beneficial in the long run to focus on the consistent subjugation of negative impulses, even if they aren't fully converted, or to strive for the more challenging, yet potentially more complete, process of conversion, even if it means temporary setbacks?

Question 2: The "Minute Evil" and Self-Deception

The Tanya warns that the "incompletely righteous" might "imagine that he has driven it out and it has quite disappeared." How can we, in our own spiritual practice, guard against this self-deception regarding the "minute evil" that might still linger, and ensure we are not mistaking mere suppression for genuine transformation?

Takeaway

True spiritual victory lies not just in eradicating evil, but in transforming its very essence into holy service, driven by an absolute love for G-d.