Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 10:5

Hook

We gather today to honor a memory, a presence that shaped us, and a legacy that continues to ripple through our lives. This moment is for remembering, for embracing the fullness of what was, and for finding strength in the enduring connections that transcend physical absence. Perhaps it is an anniversary, a birthday, or simply a day when the heart calls out for connection with a beloved soul. The path of memory is not always a straight line; it is often a winding journey, filled with moments of profound tenderness and quiet contemplation. Today, we will walk this path together, drawing wisdom from ancient texts and grounding ourselves in simple, meaningful practice, allowing the space for whatever arises within us.

Text Snapshot

This passage from Tanya, a foundational work of Chabad philosophy, speaks to the intricate inner landscape of the soul, differentiating between different levels of spiritual attainment. It introduces the concepts of the "incompletely righteous" and the "completely righteous," drawing a distinction based on the soul's relationship with its "animal soul" and the "sitra achara" (the "other side," often associated with negativity or the forces that oppose holiness).

"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”—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, because of the former’s minuteness. 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,” 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..."

This text doesn't offer easy answers or prescriptive paths, but rather a nuanced understanding of spiritual struggle and growth. It suggests that even when we strive to overcome what is difficult within ourselves, the process is not always about complete eradication, but often about transformation and subjugation. The journey toward "goodness" can involve the profound work of converting what might seem like remnants of difficulty into something understood differently, something integrated.

Kavvanah

Cultivating Inner Harmony and Transformed Memory

As we approach this moment of remembrance, our intention, or kavvanah, is to cultivate a sense of inner harmony that extends to our relationship with the memory of our loved ones. The Tanya speaks of the soul's battle, not as a one-time victory, but as an ongoing process of refining and transforming. This concept resonates deeply with the experience of grief. When we recall those we have lost, we may encounter a spectrum of emotions – moments of profound joy intertwined with pangs of sadness, gratitude alongside longing. The text suggests that even when we feel we have “eradicated” negativity, its true conversion into goodness is a deeper process.

Our kavvanah today is to hold this understanding gently. It is not about denying the difficult emotions that grief may bring, nor is it about forcing a sense of complete peace where it doesn't yet exist. Instead, it is about acknowledging the complexity of our inner lives and the echoes of those we remember. We can approach our memories with the intention to witness them fully, without judgment, and to explore the possibility that even the challenging aspects of our grief can, in time, be transformed. This transformation doesn't erase the pain, but it can help us find new meaning and strength within it.

Embracing the Nuances of Love and Loss

The text distinguishes between the "incompletely righteous" and the "completely righteous" based on the degree to which "evil is converted to goodness." For us, this translates into an intention to embrace the nuances of our love and loss. We are not expected to achieve a state of perfect, unadulterated joy in remembrance. It is natural and human to experience a mix of feelings. Our kavvanah is to allow ourselves to be fully present with this complexity.

We intend to recognize that the love we hold for our departed loved ones is a powerful force for good, a force that can, over time, help us to reframe even the most painful memories. Just as the Tanya speaks of the "filthy garments of evil" being shed, we can aspire to shed the layers of pain and despair that may obscure the enduring light of our connections. This shedding is not an act of forgetting, but an act of deeper understanding, an elevation of memory into a source of enduring strength and meaning.

Finding Strength in Transformation, Not Erasure

Our kavvanah is to approach our memories with the aspiration to find strength in transformation, rather than seeking an impossible erasure of pain. The Tanya teaches that the complete righteousness comes not from eradicating the "evil," but from its conversion into goodness. In the context of grief, this means our intention is not to make the pain disappear, but to engage with it in a way that allows it to inform and deepen our lives.

We aim to recognize that the love we shared, the lessons learned, and the experiences we had together are not lost. They are woven into the fabric of who we are. Our kavvanah is to actively seek out the "goodness" that can emerge from our memories, even from the difficult passages. This might involve finding gratitude for the time we had, appreciating the lessons learned, or recognizing the ways in which our loved ones continue to inspire us. By holding this intention, we create a sacred space for our grief to evolve, not into something less painful, but into something that enriches our lives with profound meaning and enduring love.

Practice

Lighting a Candle of Transformed Light

The Tanya speaks of the soul's journey and the presence of both light and shadow within our inner world. This practice invites us to engage with these concepts through the simple, potent act of lighting a candle.

### Preparing the Space

Find a quiet space where you can be undisturbed for a few minutes. Gather a candle and a way to light it. You might wish to have a comfortable seat, perhaps a cushion or a chair, and a surface to place the candle. It can be helpful to have a glass of water nearby.

### The Act of Lighting

As you prepare to light the candle, take a few deep breaths. Feel your connection to the present moment, to this space, and to the intention that has brought you here. As you bring the flame to the wick, remember the words of the Tanya: "the evil is not actually converted to goodness." This can be a potent reminder that our journey through grief, like our spiritual journey, is not always about complete eradication but about transformation.

Hold this in your awareness as the flame ignites. The light of the candle represents the enduring presence of your loved one, the light they brought into the world, and the light that continues to shine within you. But in the spirit of the Tanya's teaching, consider also what the flame signifies in terms of transformation. Perhaps this light is the "goodness" that emerges from the complex tapestry of your memories. It is the warmth that can persist even after the initial intensity of pain, the clarity that can emerge from confusion, the enduring love that can illuminate even the darkest moments.

### Holding the Light

As the candle burns, gaze into its flame. Allow yourself to be present with whatever arises. You might recall a specific memory, a feeling, a lesson learned. If challenging emotions surface, acknowledge them without judgment, holding them gently in the light of the candle. Consider the idea of "converting darkness into light," as mentioned in the Zohar in relation to "superior men." Your act of remembering, of engaging with this practice, is a form of this conversion. You are not denying the darkness of absence, but rather actively cultivating the light of presence and meaning.

This light can symbolize the part of your loved one that has been "converted to goodness" within your own being – the wisdom they imparted, the love they shared, the resilience they embodied. It represents the enduring legacy that continues to shine. If the Tanya's concept of the "incompletely righteous" resonates, where remnants of difficulty are "subjugated and nullified by the good," see if you can find that sense of subjugation and nullification within your own experience of memory. The pain may still exist, but its power to overwhelm is lessened by the growing strength of love and meaning.

### Extinguishing with Intention

When you are ready to extinguish the candle, do so with intention. You might blow out the flame gently, or use a snuffer. As you do, you can silently express gratitude for the light, for the memory, and for the strength you are cultivating. You might say, "May this light inspire lasting goodness within me," or "May the love we shared continue to illuminate my path." This act of extinguishing is not an end, but a transition, a carrying forth of the light into your everyday life. The flame is gone, but its warmth, its illumination, its transformed essence remains.

Community

Sharing a Name, Sharing a Story

The Tanya speaks of the interconnectedness of souls and the idea that even a "fragment" of what remains can be significant. In this spirit, we invite a practice of gentle sharing that can strengthen our collective sense of connection and remembrance.

### The Invitation to Share

Consider who you are remembering today. If you feel moved and comfortable, you are invited to share the name of your loved one with the group. Following this, you might choose to share a very brief memory or a single word that encapsulates their essence for you. This is not a requirement, but an offering. The intention is not to solicit detailed narratives, but to create a space where each name, each brief remembrance, is held with care and respect.

### Listening with Open Hearts

For those who are listening, the practice is one of deep, compassionate presence. As each name is spoken, and each brief memory is shared, listen with an open heart. The Tanya's text suggests that even minute remnants hold significance. In this practice, each shared name and word is a testament to that significance. You are not expected to fix, to comfort excessively, or to offer advice. Your presence, your attentive listening, is a profound act of support.

### The Power of Shared Acknowledgment

The Tanya differentiates between those who have fully converted their inner struggles and those who are still in the process. Our community practice acknowledges that we are all on our own unique journeys of grief and remembrance. By sharing a name, we are not claiming to be "completely righteous" in our grief, but rather participating in a communal act of honoring. Your willingness to share, and the group's willingness to listen, creates a shared acknowledgment of presence and impact. This shared acknowledgment can be a powerful source of strength, reminding us that we are not alone in our experiences of love and loss. The combined energy of these shared memories, even if brief, creates a tapestry of connection that honors the individuality of each person remembered and the collective strength of those who remember. It is a way of saying, "I see you, I remember, and I am here with you."

Takeaway

As we conclude this ritual, carry with you the understanding that remembrance is not a static event, but a dynamic process of transformation. The wisdom from the Tanya reminds us that even in the face of difficulty, there is potential for goodness to emerge and for our connections to deepen. May you find solace in the gentle unfolding of your memories, strength in the enduring light of love, and peace in the ongoing journey of your heart. Your path of memory is unique, and it is honored here.