Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 13:6

Hook

We gather today to honor a moment of transition, a time when the veil between worlds feels thin, and the echoes of lives lived resonate deeply within us. Perhaps it's an anniversary, a yahrzeit, or simply a day when the memory of a loved one surfaces with particular tenderness. This is a space for acknowledging the profound impact of those who have shaped our journeys, for weaving their legacies into the fabric of our present, and for finding solace and strength in the enduring threads of connection. Today, we meet the intricate dance of the human heart, the constant interplay of light and shadow that defines our experience, and find within it a pathway to deeper remembrance.

Text Snapshot

"Intermediate people are judged by both [the good and evil natures], for it is written, ‘When He stands at the right of the destitute to deliver him from the judges of his soul.’... Note that they did not say 'ruled' by both, G–d forbid, because where the evil nature gains any control and dominion over the 'small city,' even though but temporarily, one is at such times deemed 'wicked.' The evil nature [in the benoni], however, is no more than, for example, a magistrate or judge who gives his opinion on a point of law, yet it is not necessarily a final decision to be implemented in deed, for there is another magistrate or judge who is contesting this opinion. It is, therefore, necessary to arbitrate between the two, and the final verdict rests with the arbitrator."

Kavvanah

As we engage with this profound text, let our intention be to hold the complexity of our inner lives with gentleness and compassion, recognizing that the journey of remembrance is not one of perfection, but of honest engagement. We aim to cultivate a spaciousness within ourselves that can acknowledge both the light and the shadow, the love and the longing, that arise when we connect with those we have lost. Our kavvanah is to understand that even in moments of internal struggle, or when we feel far from our ideals, we are held by a divine grace that stands with us, offering the strength to navigate the inner arbitration between our impulses. We seek to embrace the understanding that even the most profound grief and the most persistent echoes of our departed loved ones are part of a larger, unfolding narrative, and that within this narrative, there is always the potential for growth, for healing, and for the enduring radiance of love. We will approach our practice not with the aim of erasing difficult feelings or striving for an unattainable state of being, but with the intention of witnessing our own internal landscapes with a deep and abiding sense of kindness, honoring the journey of becoming, and the sacred wisdom held within each moment of our experience.

Practice

Lighting a Candle of Inner Acknowledgment

This practice invites us to directly engage with the "intermediate" space described in the Tanya, the space where our human experience often resides. We are not striving for a state of pure "tzaddik" (righteous person) or succumbing to the "rasha" (wicked person). Instead, we acknowledge the ongoing dialogue within ourselves, a dialogue that is inherent in the human condition and deeply relevant to how we process grief and legacy.

Choosing Your Candle:

Select a candle – it could be a Yahrzeit candle, a votive, or any candle that feels meaningful to you. The act of lighting it is a physical manifestation of bringing awareness and intention into this internal space.

The "Judges of the Soul":

The text speaks of two "judges" or impulses within us: the evil inclination and the divine soul. In the context of grief and remembrance, these can manifest in various ways. The "evil inclination" might be the voice of despair, the feeling of overwhelming loss, the tendency to dwell on what is no longer present, or even self-recrimination for perceived shortcomings in our relationships with those who have passed. It might whisper doubts about the legacy we are building, or amplify feelings of loneliness.

The "divine soul," on the other hand, represents our capacity for love, for connection, for growth, and for carrying forward the light of those we remember. It is the part of us that seeks meaning, that finds beauty in memory, that desires to honor and to learn. In the context of legacy, it is the impulse to create, to contribute, and to live in a way that reflects the values and love we received.

The Ritual of Lighting:

1. Find a quiet space: Ensure you have a few minutes of uninterrupted time.
2. Hold the candle: As you hold the unlit candle, bring to mind the loved one you are remembering. Allow the emotions that arise to simply be.
3. Acknowledge the "Judges" within:
   • First, the "evil inclination": Gently acknowledge any feelings of darkness, struggle, or difficulty you are experiencing related to your grief or to the memory of your loved one. You might say, silently or aloud: "I acknowledge the part of me that feels the weight of loss, the doubt, the pain. I recognize these impulses are present."
   • Second, the "divine soul": Now, turn your attention to the light, the love, the enduring connection. Acknowledge the positive impulses: "I also acknowledge the part of me that holds love, that seeks to remember with kindness, that carries the light of [Name of Loved One]. I recognize the divine spark within me that longs for meaning and connection."
4. The Arbitration: The text explains that these impulses are in a state of arbitration. The divine soul, with G-d's help, has the potential to gain the upper hand. As you light the candle, visualize this arbitration.
   • Say: "As I light this flame, I invite awareness into the space between these impulses. I understand that the presence of difficult feelings does not negate the presence of love. I choose to invite the light of understanding and compassion to illuminate my inner landscape."
5. The Flame as Arbitrator: The flame of the candle can symbolize the "arbitrator" – the divine light that helps us navigate these internal dialogues. It doesn't erase the shadows, but it illuminates them, allowing us to see them more clearly and to make choices from a place of greater wisdom.
6. Observe the Flame: Watch the flame for a few moments. Allow it to be a visual representation of the ongoing process of inner balance. The flame flickers, it dances, it is dynamic, much like our inner lives. The text reminds us that even when the divine soul seems to be ascendant, the "evil inclination" is dormant, not eradicated. This is a profound comfort; it means we are not expected to be perfect, nor to have our grief completely "resolved" in a way that leaves no trace.
7. Closing: As the candle burns, you might reflect on the wisdom of Rabbah, who considered himself an "intermediate" person even in his deep devotion. This humbles us and allows us to accept our own journey, with all its nuances. You can offer a silent prayer or affirmation: "May this light remind me of the ongoing dance within, and of the divine presence that supports me in finding balance and meaning, even in the midst of remembrance and loss."

This practice is not about achieving immediate clarity or peace, but about cultivating the capacity to be with our inner experience, honoring the complexities that arise when we engage with memory and legacy. It is about recognizing that our internal struggles do not diminish our capacity for love or our connection to those we remember.

Community

Shared Storying: A Circle of Witnessing

The Tanya's emphasis on the internal struggle can sometimes feel isolating. Yet, our sages remind us that "no one can stand alone." Connecting with others who understand the nuances of grief and the ongoing journey of remembrance can be a profound source of strength and validation. This practice offers a way to share that experience, not by forcing participation, but by creating a space where it is gently invited.

The Invitation:

"In our tradition, the concept of the benoni – the intermediate person – acknowledges that we are all on a journey, navigating the interplay of our inner impulses. This is true for all of us, and it is especially true when we hold the memories of those we love. When we remember someone, we often encounter a spectrum of emotions and thoughts. Sometimes, the grief feels overwhelming, like a heavy weight. Other times, the love and the lessons learned shine brightly, inspiring us.

Today, as we sit together, I invite you to consider sharing a brief story or a reflection – not one that aims for perfection or resolution, but one that acknowledges the process of remembering and legacy. Perhaps it's a moment where you felt the 'judges of your soul' in action, a time when you wrestled with a difficult memory or a lingering question. Or perhaps it's a moment where you felt the 'divine soul' rise to meet the challenge, finding strength or meaning in the legacy of the person you hold dear.

There is no obligation to share. Simply being present and listening is a powerful act of community. If you choose to share, know that your words will be held with gentleness and respect. We are here to witness each other's journeys, to offer a collective breath of understanding, and to remind ourselves that in this shared space, we are not alone in our inner arbitration."

Facilitating the Sharing:

• Set the Tone: Begin by reiterating the intention of the practice – to offer gentle witness, not judgment.
• Offer a Model: If comfortable, you could share a brief, honest reflection yourself, demonstrating vulnerability without oversharing. For instance: "I remember when I first tried to write a letter to my grandmother after she passed. I felt this immediate rush of sadness and guilt, thinking about all the things I never said. But then, as I sat with it, I also felt a warmth, a reminder of her laughter. It was that inner dialogue, that arbitration, that I was experiencing."
• Gentle Pauses: Allow for comfortable silences between sharings. This gives others time to gather their thoughts and for the community to absorb what has been shared.
• Focus on the "Process": Gently guide the conversation (if needed) to focus on the experience of remembrance and legacy, rather than on definitive conclusions. The Tanya's insight is that the journey itself, the arbitration, is where meaning is found.
• Closing: Conclude by thanking everyone for their presence and for their willingness to engage with this tender aspect of remembrance. You might offer a collective blessing or affirmation: "May we continue to find strength in our shared journey, holding both the light and the shadows of our memories with compassion and hope."

This communal practice honors the individual's internal landscape while grounding it in the supportive presence of others. It acknowledges that legacy is not a static monument, but an ongoing, living process that is richer when shared.

Takeaway

The wisdom of the Tanya, in this passage, offers a profound perspective on the human condition, particularly relevant to our journeys of grief and remembrance. It teaches us that to be human is to exist in a state of ongoing arbitration, a dynamic interplay between our innate impulses. This understanding is not a cause for despair, but a source of deep compassion, for ourselves and for others.

When we remember those we have lost, we may encounter a spectrum of feelings – moments of profound connection and love, interwoven with pangs of sadness, longing, or even doubt. The text assures us that this internal dialogue is natural. It is not a sign of failure, but a testament to our capacity for growth and our inherent connection to the divine.

The "intermediate person" (benoni) is not someone who is half-good and half-bad, but someone who is actively engaged in the process of navigating these internal forces. The "judges of the soul" are not adversaries to be defeated, but voices to be heard and understood, with the divine spark within us offering the potential for wisdom and balance.

As you move forward, carry this understanding with you:

• Embrace the complexity: Allow yourself to feel the full range of emotions that arise when remembering. There is no single "correct" way to grieve or to honor a legacy.
• Cultivate inner kindness: Recognize that the struggles you experience are a part of being human. Approach yourself with the same gentleness you would offer a dear friend.
• Trust the process: The work of remembrance and legacy is ongoing. It is in the moments of arbitration, in the quiet contemplation and the courage to engage with your inner world, that true meaning and enduring connection are found.
• Seek and offer support: Remember that you are not alone. Sharing your journey, even in small ways, can illuminate the path for yourself and for others.

May you find strength, solace, and a deepening sense of meaning in the intricate dance of your heart, and in the enduring light of those you hold dear.