Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 7:12

Hook

We live in a world of profound paradoxes, where our highest ideals often collide with the grit of daily reality. For those of us who hold Israel dear, this tension is particularly acute. We cherish the dream of a Jewish homeland—a beacon of justice, creativity, and resilience—yet we grapple with the undeniable complexities and conflicts that arise from its existence. How do we reconcile the spiritual promise of Zionism with the messy, often painful, political and social realities on the ground? Can the very acts of nation-building—the agriculture, the technology, the security, the diplomacy, the vibrant but sometimes fractured society—be imbued with sacred purpose, or do they risk becoming purely mundane, even degraded?

This is not a new question for the Jewish people; it's a timeless spiritual challenge. Our tradition has always asked: How do we live a life of holiness within a physical world? How do we elevate the ordinary? The founding of modern Israel, a collective expression of Jewish peoplehood in its most physical and political form, presents this question on a grand, national scale. It demands that we look beyond simplistic narratives of pure good or pure evil and instead embrace the nuanced, often uncomfortable, space where the divine meets the material. It compels us to ask: Is the State of Israel itself a vehicle for spiritual elevation, or can it, too, fall prey to the lower aspects of human nature? Our task, as inheritors and participants in this ongoing project, is to cultivate the discerning eye and the open heart necessary to navigate this complex terrain, recognizing the immense potential for holiness even amidst the imperfections and striving for constant elevation and repair. This is the ultimate hope and the enduring dilemma: can our collective, national acts truly be l'shem Shamayim—for the sake of Heaven?

Text Snapshot

From Tanya, Part I; Likkutei Amarim 7:12:

"In this world, called the 'World of Asiyah (Action),' most, indeed almost all, of it [the kelipat nogah] is bad, and only a little good has been intermingled within it... Hence it is sometimes absorbed within the three unclean kelipot... and sometimes it is absorbed and elevated to the category and level of holiness, as when the good that is intermingled in it is extracted from the bad, and prevails and ascends until it is absorbed in holiness."

Context

Date

Written in the late 18th century (first published 1797) by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the Tanya emerged during a transformative period for Jewish life. The Hasidic movement was flourishing, offering a path to spiritual depth and joy for the masses, while the Enlightenment (Haskalah) was challenging traditional Jewish communal structures and offering new avenues for integration into broader society. These were seismic shifts in Jewish identity, grappling with the relationship between spiritual life and the emerging modern world.

Actor

Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745–1812), known affectionately as the Baal HaTanya, was the founder of the Chabad-Lubavitch dynasty of Hasidism. A brilliant scholar, mystic, and communal leader, he synthesized Kabbalistic concepts with a deep understanding of Jewish law and philosophy. His work sought to make profound, esoteric spiritual truths accessible and practical for every Jew, providing tools for self-understanding and a framework for spiritual service in daily life.

Aim

The Tanya serves as a foundational text of Chabad philosophy, often called "the Written Torah of Chassidut." Its primary aim is to guide individuals in achieving deveikut (cleaving to G-d) by understanding the divine soul and animal soul within them. It offers a psychological and spiritual roadmap for navigating the challenges of the physical world, transforming mundane acts into sacred ones, and overcoming inner struggles to serve G-d with joy and purpose. It seeks to elevate the everyday, revealing the divine spark hidden within all creation and empowering the individual to bring that spark to light.

Two Readings

The Tanya's profound insights into the nature of good, evil, and the intermediate "kelipat nogah" offer a powerful lens through which to examine Zionism and the modern State of Israel. This text, written centuries before Herzl, nevertheless provides a vital framework for understanding the spiritual aspirations and inherent tensions within the Zionist project, challenging us to consider how we elevate our collective national enterprise.

Reading 1: The Zionist Project as Kelipat Nogah – A Call to Conscious Elevation

The concept of kelipat nogah (the "translucent husk" or "radiant shell") is perhaps the most potent metaphor from the Tanya for understanding the modern State of Israel. Kelipat nogah represents the intermediate category of existence: things that are not inherently evil (like forbidden acts) but are not inherently holy either. They are permissible, neutral in themselves, but their spiritual valence is determined by the intention behind their use. If used l'shem Shamayim—for the sake of Heaven, to serve G-d, to broaden one's mind for Torah study, to fulfill a mitzvah—they are elevated to holiness. If used for purely selfish, materialistic, or lustful reasons, they are degraded and absorbed into the realm of impurity.

The State of Israel, in this reading, is a monumental kelipat nogah. It is a physical, political, and social entity built by human hands, through human effort, and with human flaws. Its very existence is about the concrete—land, borders, military, economy, technology, governance. These are all inherently "mundane" in the Tanya's terms. Yet, the deep, foundational impulse of Zionism was never purely secular. It was a yearning for national renewal, for Jewish self-determination, for a return to the ancestral land, often imbued with a sense of historical justice and messianic hope, even for those who did not articulate it in strictly religious terms.

Consider the acts of building the state: draining swamps, cultivating arid land, establishing kibbutzim, developing groundbreaking technologies, defending its borders, absorbing millions of immigrants. These are physical, material acts. If these actions are driven solely by nationalistic pride, the pursuit of power, economic gain, or survival at any cost, they risk falling into degradation. They become ends in themselves, devoid of a higher purpose. However, if these same acts are undertaken with a conscious intention to create a just society, to be a "light unto the nations," to embody Jewish values of tikkun olam (repairing the world), chesed (loving-kindness), and mishpat (justice), to provide a safe haven for a persecuted people, and to foster a vibrant Jewish future—then they are elevated. The "good intermingled within it" (the potential for justice, innovation, resilience, ingathering, and ethical conduct) is extracted and ascends to holiness.

This reading calls for a constant, collective introspection. It acknowledges that the State of Israel, like any human endeavor, is imperfect and prone to human failings. But it also presents an immense opportunity. It challenges us, as participants in the Zionist project, to continually ask: What is our kavanah (intention)? Are we building l'shem Shamayim? Are we consciously striving to infuse our national choices—from policy-making to daily interactions—with the highest ethical and spiritual aspirations of Jewish peoplehood? This perspective is profoundly hopeful, for it asserts that even the most tangible, political aspects of our national life can become conduits for divine purpose, transforming a secular dream into a sacred reality through conscious effort and noble intent. It places the responsibility squarely on our shoulders to elevate the state, rather than allowing it to be degraded by lower impulses.

Reading 2: Responsibility, Repair, and the "Unclean Kelipot" of History

While kelipat nogah offers the possibility of elevation, the Tanya also speaks of the "three completely unclean kelipot," which represent absolute evil—forbidden acts that are "tied and bound by the extraneous forces forever" and are far more difficult to rectify, requiring "repentance out of love" (teshuvah mei'ahavah) to transform sins into merits. This second reading compels us to face the more challenging, painful aspects of Israel’s history and present, reminding us that not all actions are merely neutral or capable of easy elevation.

Zionism, like any national movement, has had unintended consequences and has been implicated in actions that have caused significant suffering. Without sensationalism, we must acknowledge the historical narrative of displacement for Palestinians, the ongoing occupation, the challenges to democratic values within certain sectors of Israeli society, and the ethical dilemmas posed by continuous conflict. These are not merely "mundane" acts that can be easily elevated through better intention. Some actions, whether individual or collective, past or present, may indeed fall into a category that causes deep moral stain, reflecting choices that deviate profoundly from the highest ideals of justice and compassion.

The Tanya teaches that for such grievous actions, mere regret or routine repentance is insufficient. It demands teshuvah mei'ahavah—a repentance born of such profound love for G-d and a passionate thirst for holiness that the very sins are transmuted into merits. This is a radical concept, suggesting that the depth of the fall can paradoxically create the potential for an even greater ascent. Applied to the Zionist project, this implies that where genuine wrongs have been committed, where actions have caused deep harm and fall into the realm of "unclean kelipot," the path to rectification is not simple. It requires a radical, transformative commitment to repair, empathy, and justice that goes beyond superficial policy changes.

This reading centers peoplehood and responsibility by challenging us to confront the collective conscience. It means acknowledging the pain of the "other," even when that pain is intertwined with our own narrative of survival and triumph. It demands a willingness to grapple with uncomfortable truths, to listen to dissenting voices, and to undertake processes of profound introspection and repair. What would teshuvah mei'ahavah look like for a nation? It might involve deep historical reckoning, sustained efforts at reconciliation, dismantling systems of injustice, and a radical commitment to shared dignity and human rights for all inhabitants of the land. It’s a call not to abandon the Zionist dream, but to purify and refine it, pushing it towards its most ethical and G-dly potential, even when facing the most difficult and seemingly intractable problems. This perspective holds a "strong spine" in its commitment to truth and justice, while maintaining an "open heart" to the immense suffering and complexity involved.

Civic Move

Establish "Circles of Elevation and Repair"

Inspired by the Tanya's framework of elevating the mundane and seeking profound teshuvah, I propose we establish "Circles of Elevation and Repair." These would be structured, facilitated dialogue groups—online or in-person—specifically designed for individuals committed to Zionism and Jewish peoplehood to engage with the complex realities of Israel.

The goal of these circles would be two-fold:

1. Elevation: To consciously identify areas within Israeli society, policy, or collective action that currently operate as kelipat nogah (neutral or driven by lower impulses) and brainstorm ways to infuse them with l'shem Shamayim. For instance, how can Israel's technological innovation be consciously directed not just for economic gain or security, but for global good, humanitarian aid, or interfaith bridge-building? How can our national discourse move beyond mere political squabbling to a higher ethical standard?
2. Repair: To bravely confront aspects of Israel's history or current reality that cause deep moral distress or contribute to injustice, recognizing them as potentially falling into the realm of "unclean kelipot." This requires candid, compassionate dialogue about the suffering of all peoples impacted by the conflict, acknowledging difficult truths without sensationalism, and exploring what teshuvah mei'ahavah might look like on a national scale. What specific actions or policy shifts could embody a radical commitment to justice and reconciliation, transforming past wrongs into present opportunities for profound repair?

These circles would foster active listening, cultivate radical empathy, and encourage participants to move beyond partisan divides to a shared commitment to a more just, ethical, and spiritually resonant Israel. The methodology would involve studying specific case studies, historical events, or contemporary challenges, and then applying the Tanya's concepts to discern the underlying intentions and pathways for elevation or deep repair. This is not about condemnation, but about collective responsibility and a future-minded dedication to making Israel a truer embodiment of Jewish ideals.

Takeaway

The Tanya offers us not a simple answer, but a powerful spiritual framework for engaging with the profound complexities of Zionism and Modern Israel. It teaches us that our national project, like the individual soul, exists in a dynamic state between potential holiness and potential degradation. The State of Israel, in its very physicality and political reality, is a magnificent kelipat nogah—an entity capable of immense spiritual elevation, but also susceptible to the lower impulses of human nature.

Our responsibility, as an honest, hopeful, and historically literate people, is to consciously and continually strive to infuse every aspect of our collective endeavor with l'shem Shamayim. This means actively working to extract the good from the material, to imbue our technological prowess, our defense, our economy, and our social structures with the highest Jewish values of justice, compassion, and human dignity. It also means having the strong spine and open heart to acknowledge where we have fallen short, where actions have caused harm, and where profound teshuvah mei'ahavah is required. This is the ongoing work of repair, reconciliation, and transformation.

Zionism is not a static achievement, but a living, breathing, spiritual journey. It calls us to embrace complexity, to reject simplistic narratives, and to commit ourselves to the constant work of elevation and repair. By doing so, we not only strengthen the State of Israel, but we also fulfill a deeper, enduring purpose of Jewish peoplehood: to bring more holiness, more justice, and more light into a world desperately in need.