Chapter 45: The Path of Yaakov: Compassion for the Soul

Chapters 41–44 showed how to reach lishmah, serving G‑d for His sake with real inner feeling, through awe and love: the attributes of Yitzchak and Avraham. Now the Alter Rebbe opens a third road, the attribute of Yaakov, which is mercy (tiferes). It comes “first”, before learning or doing a mitzvah, as the feeling that gives the deed its life.

Compassion for whom? For the spark of G‑d that gives life to my soul. Think where it comes from: the Ein Sof, who fills all worlds and surrounds them, and before whom everything is as nothing. Think where it is now: inside a body, called a “serpent’s skin”. A skin, because the body is the soul’s garment; a serpent’s, because the body, unrefined, is coarse and far from holiness (chapter 31). And this world is the lowest of all, where G‑d is most hidden (chapter 36).

This fall alone deserves compassion, even if the person has never sinned in deed, speech or thought. We rarely feel it, because we live inside the body and feel ourselves, not G‑d.

Now add what the person himself has done. Every deed, word and thought that was not good drags the soul down further, into the domain of the kelipos, and with it, so to speak, its Source, G‑d Himself. The verse “the King is bound in the tresses” is read as the running streams of the mind: even a passing thought holds the King.

Why does it reach so high? Because a Jew is G‑d’s “rope”. One end is tied above, in its source; the other is down here in the body. Pull the lower end and the upper end comes with it (Iggeres HaTeshuvah, chapter 5, explains this at length). No one can tell his soul to wait outside while he does something wrong. This is the inner meaning of “the exile of the Shechinah”.

So the Alter Rebbe reads Yeshayahu’s verse in a new way. Its plain meaning is “let him return to G‑d, and He will have mercy on him”. The Hebrew can also mean “and have mercy on Him”: return to G‑d out of pity for Him, whose Name dwells with us even in our impurity.

The events in the lives of the Avos carry a spiritual meaning, and here the Alter Rebbe reveals the meaning of Yaakov’s meeting with Rachel. Rachel is Knesses Yisrael, the source of all Jewish souls (in Kabbalah, malchus of Atzilus). Yaakov is the attribute of mercy in Atzilus, and he feels great compassion for her and for the souls in exile.

But the mercy of Atzilus is the mercy of a world, and so it has limits. So Yaakov “lifted his voice” higher, to the “Father of mercies”: not mercy as an attribute (“merciful Father”, Av HaRachaman), but the source from which all mercy flows (Av HaRachamim). These are the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy, which are above all worlds and so are boundless. He “wept” to draw that boundless compassion down on every soul, in every generation, to lift them out of exile and unite them with G‑d.

That unity is a “kiss”: spirit cleaving to spirit, breath to breath. It happens in our own lives. When I say words of halachah, my speech is joined to G‑d’s word; when I think them through, my thought joins His; when I do a mitzvah, my deed joins His. Tzedakah and kindness are singled out: chesed is G‑d’s “right arm”, and since the right side takes in the whole body, giving is an actual embrace. And Torah, spoken and deeply thought, is not just like a kiss; it is actual kisses.

This is where the road leads. Compassion moves a person to learn and to do mitzvos for G‑d’s sake, and it can open the deepest love, ahavah rabbah, felt openly in his heart.

The verse “to Yaakov, who redeemed Avraham” is read inwardly. Avraham is love; Yaakov is compassion. Sometimes a person’s love for G‑d is locked away and he cannot find it. Compassion sets it free.

One way to understand why this road is called “direct”: love and awe need contemplation and a moment of uplift before they can be felt. Compassion does not wait for that. Even when a person feels cold and far away, he can feel for the spark inside him, and perhaps most of all then. So the road is open to every person, at every moment, from wherever he stands.