Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 13:6

Let's embark on a journey into the heart of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewish tradition, where ancient wisdom continues to illuminate our lives today!

Hook

Imagine a vibrant bazaar, alive with the scent of spices, the hum of a hundred conversations in Ladino and Arabic, and the echo of ancient melodies sung from the depths of the soul. This is the world from which our tradition flows, a tapestry woven with threads of resilience, deep scholarship, and an enduring love for Hashem.

Context

Place

Our focus today draws from the rich intellectual and spiritual landscape of the Sephardi and Mizrahi world, encompassing lands from the Iberian Peninsula to North Africa, the Ottoman Empire, and Persia. These communities, though geographically diverse, shared a common heritage of Torah interpretation, poetic expression, and unique customs that have shaped Jewish life for centuries.

Era

The ideas we will explore have roots stretching back to the Geonic period and the flourishing of Jewish intellectual life in Islamic lands, particularly during the Golden Age of Spain. They were further developed and transmitted through generations of scholars and mystics, right up to the modern era, adapting and thriving in various historical contexts.

Community

This tradition speaks to the lived experience of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews – communities that, for centuries, navigated diverse cultural environments, often as minorities, yet maintained a vibrant and distinct Jewish identity. Their approach to Torah, prayer, and daily life reflects a profound engagement with both the spiritual and the practical dimensions of existence.

Text Snapshot

From the Tanya, Likkutei Amarim, Part I, Chapter 13, we encounter a profound exploration of the human spiritual condition:

"Therewith will be understood the commentary of our Sages that '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.’'"

This passage delves into the concept of the benoni, the "intermediate person," who is neither wholly righteous nor wholly wicked.

"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."

Here, the internal struggle is likened to a legal debate, where the evil inclination offers its counsel, but is contested by the divine soul, preventing its immediate implementation.

"The final verdict rests with the arbitrator. Similarly, the evil nature states its opinion in the left part of the heart, which thence ascends to the brain for contemplation. Immediately it is challenged by the second judge, the divine soul in the brain extending into the right part of the heart, the abode of the good nature."

The heart is visualized as a council chamber, with the left side housing the evil inclination and the right side, the divine soul, with the brain acting as the seat of deliberation.

"The final verdict comes from the arbitrator—the Holy One, blessed is He, who comes to the aid of the good nature, as our Sages said, 'If the Holy One, blessed is He, did not help him, he could not overcome his evil inclination.'"

Ultimately, divine assistance is crucial for the triumph of the good.

Minhag/Melody

The concept of the benoni and the internal struggle for spiritual mastery resonates deeply within Sephardi and Mizrahi prayer and piyut. Consider the Piyutim for the High Holy Days, particularly those recited during the Selichot and Maariv services. Many of these poetic liturgical compositions, such as those by Rabbi Yehuda Halevi or Rabbi Israel Najara, vividly describe the soul's battle against its own inclinations.

For example, in a selichah that might be sung with a mournful yet determined melody, the piyyut could lament the soul's entanglement with worldly desires – the "left side" of the heart speaking its opinion. Yet, the very act of reciting these powerful verses, often in melodic modes that evoke introspection and yearning, is an active engagement of the "divine soul in the brain." The yearning expressed in the piyyut for divine mercy and strength to overcome temptation mirrors the Tanya's description of the Holy One "standing at the right of the destitute."

The melodies themselves, often characterized by their modal richness and intricate ornamentation, can evoke a spectrum of emotions – from deep contrition to fervent hope. A melody that starts with a somber, almost pleading tone can gradually ascend, mirroring the divine soul's effort to gain the upper hand. The repetition of certain phrases or refrains within the piyyut acts as a constant reminder, a mental preparation, to reawaken the love of G-d, just as the Tanya describes the divine soul's ability to "reawaken this kind of love constantly, during its preponderance in time of prayer day after day." The musical structure, in its ebb and flow, its moments of tension and release, can be seen as a sonic representation of the internal arbitration and the ultimate reliance on divine aid.

Contrast

While the Tanya's framework of the benoni is a universal concept in Jewish thought, its articulation and emphasis can differ across traditions. In some Ashkenazi contemplative traditions, there might be a greater emphasis on the tzaddik (righteous person) as an ideal to be striven for, with a more direct path to eradicating the evil inclination. The focus might be on achieving a state where the "evil in him has been dissolved by the good."

In contrast, many Sephardi and Mizrahi thinkers, while valuing righteousness, often embrace the benoni as a more realistic and perhaps even more instructive spiritual state. The Tanya itself, while rooted in Kabbalistic thought, presents a nuanced view of the benoni, stressing that even a person deeply engaged in Torah study might still have the essence of the evil inclination in its full strength, merely "dormant" or not outwardly expressed. This perspective can foster a greater sense of humility and ongoing effort, rather than an assumption of spiritual completion. It acknowledges the persistent nature of the struggle, emphasizing continuous engagement and reliance on divine assistance, as highlighted by the Tanya's explanation of "intermediate people are judged by both." This doesn't imply a lack of aspiration for higher levels, but rather a grounded understanding of the daily work of spiritual growth.

Home Practice

Let's bring this wisdom into our personal lives with a simple yet powerful practice:

The "Arbiter's Pause."

When you find yourself facing a decision, big or small, where you feel internal conflict – perhaps between immediate gratification and a more considered choice, or between a reactive response and a measured one – take a moment. This is your "small city" with its internal deliberations.

1. Acknowledge the "Left Side": Briefly identify the impulse or desire that is urging you towards the easier or more immediate path. Don't judge it, just recognize it.
2. Invoke the "Right Side": Bring to mind the values, principles, or higher aspirations that guide you. This is the voice of your divine soul.
3. The "Arbiter's Pause": Before acting, take a conscious breath. This pause is your moment of arbitration. In this stillness, silently ask for clarity and strength, acknowledging that ultimate success comes with divine help.

Even a few seconds of this conscious pause can shift your perspective and empower you to make choices aligned with your truest self.

Takeaway

The Tanya's exploration of the benoni offers us a profound and deeply human understanding of our spiritual journey. It teaches us that the path of growth is not about eradicating the struggle entirely, but about engaging with it with awareness, humility, and unwavering trust in Hashem's ever-present support. From the vibrant piyyutim of our ancestors to the quiet moments of personal reflection, this tradition empowers us to navigate our inner lives with wisdom and grace.