The Beinoni: A Central Concept in Tanya
[Please forgive the gender chauvinism, but it’s just easier for me to use the masculine form in writing. Please know that everything in this post goes for women as well.]
Hanging around the Chabadniks I’ve had a lot of exposure to the Tanya, Lubavitch Chasidism’s central text of chassidus written by Chabad’s founder Schneur Zalman of Liadi. There are many beautiful concepts in the Tanya. One central concept is that of the beinoni, the intermediate man, and the nature of his service in the world.
The Tanya posits three kinds of Jews: Tzadikkim, Beinonim, and Rashas. A tzadik is a great and holy man who has elevated his soul to the point where he no longer struggles with his yetzer hara. He has won the struggle with his yetzer hara, has actually elevated it and transformed it to the point that evil has no affect on him or even has a connection to him. A rasha, at least a pure rasha, also doesn’t struggle with his yetzer hara, but that’s because he has lost his struggle with it and has been defeated by it. A rasha is a person who has abandoned himself to evil. There are various levels of this, of course. Some are “rashas to whom there is evil.” This is a pure rasha, a hedonist totally centered on himself and wholly given over to the pleasures of the flesh. There is also the “rasha to whom there is good.” This is a person who has not abandoned himself totally to the physical. He may think and care about God, study torah, perform mitzvoth, be a good and devoted parent, spouse, or child. But still within the rasha to whom there is good there is some weakness where the yetzer hara holds sway. It can be as innocent as a tendency to gossip, or to overindulge in food or other harmless pleasures, or it may be a willingness to cut corners in business. But whatever it is, in that one area the yetzer hara has defeated this otherwise good man, and to the extent the yetzer hara holds sway over his actions, to that extent that man is a rasha.
But the Tanya isn’t interested in Tzadikkim or Rashas. The Tanya’s main focus is the Beinoni, the intermediate man. Tanya defines the beinoni as a person who is wholly correct in all his actions. Judging from the outside, just from their actions, it would be impossible to tell a tzadik from a beinoni because neither transgresses the Torah in either thought, word, or deed. The difference is on the inside because a tzadik is no longer affected by his yetzer hara, while the beinoni is in a constant, never-ending struggle with it.
A beinoni has all the appetites, all the urges, and all the inclinations of a rasha. He is as susceptible to temptation and to impure thoughts as anyone else. The difference is that the beinoni never gives in to those temptations, never acts on them. He uses discipline, prayer, study, and faith to overcome his yetzer hara, and thus perform the positive mitzvah of “turning away from evil.”
So a beinoni is a man conflicted, constantly struggling with his own demons to fulfill the injunction, “be holy as I am holy.” Nor can the beinoni ever hope to win this battle, because only a tzadik can overcome the yetzer hara, and it is not given to every man to be a tzadik. A rasha can, through his own efforts, rise to the level of a beinoni, as difficult as it may be. But it is impossible for a beinoni solely through his own efforts to defeat his yetzer hara and thus become a tzadik. According to Tanya, one can only become a tzadik through God’s will, and without God’s will it is impossible. The best the beinoni can how for is to subdue his yetzer hara and keep it at bay.
How can one be sure he is really a beinoni? One can’t. Because a beinoni is someone who never gives in to his yetzer hara and thus never transgresses in thought, word, or deed. Not even once. So if a man never once committed a transgression in thought, word, or deed from the time of his bar mitzvah to the time he is old and gray, and then just once gives in to some little urge and transgresses, he was never a beinoni to begin with. He was a rasha to whom there was good all that time and still has a long way to go.
The beinoni, or one who aspires to be a beinoni, is a spiritual warrior constantly in conflict with his animal soul, trying to subdue it. The Tanya was written to help him in his struggle and to give him solace. God wants the struggle of the beinoni perhaps more than he wants the miracles of the tzadik. A tzadik can perform miracles because he has nullified his own will and has become a vehicle for the will of God. The beinoni’s will is still powerfully influenced by his evil inclination, and thus the beinoni performs perhaps the greater miracle, and surely the greater mitzvah, when he denies the inclination of his heart to do the will of God.
The way of the beinoni is like the way of the warrior. I for one find it inspiring.
Yankel,
I enjoyed this post, if only because these are concepts I only recently took the time to understand (after reading some Chaim Potok and the Rashi’s Daughters books). So thank you for this post, and I find it quite inspiring as well.
A suggestion … although you do explain much of the terminology in the post, it might help for those JBCs in training or otherwise curious passersby to link to resources or even the well-worded Wikipedia post regarding some of the terms. I say this because … up until a few months ago, the term “yetzer hara” was as foreign to me as the processes of lighting the menorah was a few years ago
It might be implied that yetzer hara is the “evil inclination,” but just in case it isn’t … explanation is always more helpful than hurtful!
Again, thanks for the post
And of course, I need to get better about doing that, too. I think we all could!
Also, I just reread your post (to make sure I wasn’t missing anything) and I think I had a query/thought on one thing. You say “he denies the inclination of his heart to do the will of God” … and I wonder this: Is the yetzer hara necessarily one of the heart? I think that in truth, the yetzer hara would be one of the animal need, of “human nature” as it were. Those inclinations and needs that we often blame on that nebulous idea that as humans, we have these carnal desires that often drive us to do things that seem inhumane and sinful. The inclinations of the heart are those that would appear to be more pure … a man who cheats on his wife (or a woman who cheats on her husband) is not acting out of the motives of his heart in most cases, but of carnal desires — the yetzer hara. Of course, this is my personal take on it
Feel free to counter or offer your thoughts!
Shalom, Chavi
Chavi:
Inserting links is a good idea. I didn’t know I could do it, and I don’t know how it’s done, but I’d like to find out. I bet its fun.
You ask a good question about the heart. But I used heart deliberately because the Tanya makes a big deal of the heart. According to the Tanya, the yetzer hara lives in the heart.
The Tanya says that the heart is a thing divided. The left side of the heart (literally the left side, like the left ventricle) is where the yetzer hara resides. The yetzer hara is identified with the animal soul, the lowest level of soul, the level that animates us physically. All the human appetites come from this level of soul: hunger, desire, lust, power. All of these, all the desires of the heart, other than the desire for God, are a function of the animal soul, the yetzer hara.
However, in right side of the heart, in the right ventricle, lives that spark of God that is given to every Jew, to all of us who stood at Sinai. That is the Jew’s innate and unbreakable connection to God, his love of God. That spark resides in the right side of the heart, but it’s not very active. In most people its dormant, few are even aware they have it. Per Tanya, it usually kicks in only when absolutely needed, like when its time to chose martyrdom.
The Tanya says this innate spark can be stimulated by contemplating the greatness of God. When a person deeply meditates on the greatness of God (whatever that means), he stimulates that innate spark. It stirs, wakes, and turns into a blazing fire that breaks out of its place in the right side of the heart and pours into the left side of the heart, the home of the yetzer hara. There it, however momentarily, elevates the animal soul to its own level. The Tanya says this most often happens when one is in prayer.
So Tanya has big concerns about the heart, and feels that that it should always be subordinated to the intellect.
Hi Yankel,
Thanks for the post, I think that anyone interested in Jewish mysticism, whether “neo” or old school, should have a primer on Tanya. It’s certainly an important document, and it has many very beautiful teachings to offer.
I think your original post and the last comment you posted illustrate well how Eastern European Jews have addressed the conflicting realities of a deep love for G-d and a life in which there is at least some sin. It is interesting to note the parallels between much of this type of thought, and that of Sufis in Islam. Not the fake, New Age sufis, but the real deal. Anyway, in most Sufi traditions (Shadhili, Qadiri, Naqshbandi, etc…), as I understand them, the goal is to escape the “nafs,” - which is almost exactly identical in concept to the yetzer hara - and to then be able to, through the guidance of the Sheikh and the example of the Prophet, draw closer to G-d.
It is interesting to note the interplay that actually happened with Sufis and Jews in the Middle East; in fact, the Rambam’s son, Avraham, founded an order of Jewish Sufis who adopted practices such as prostration in prayer and chanting of the Names of G-d. But anyway, I guess my point in sharing this is to reflect my admiration for the Tanya’s teachings on these topics, and to point out to readers who may not know, that our Muslim brothers and sisters have similar understandings from Islam, although their application in Islam is, like that religion, more universal in nature.
Ok, have a great Thanksgiving!
kol tuv,
Yair
Yair:
Thanks for your thoughts. It’s interesting in general to see the many parallels between Islam and Judaism. I suppose that when you start from the axiom of the radical unity of God, the logic that proceeds from that axiom can only take you in so many directions. It’s a shame, really, that two faiths so close to each other in so many ways has become so estranged.