Torment or Delight?
There is a Torah that is torment,
and there is a Torah that is delight.
This is the difference between the service of God in exile versus the service of God in redemption.
In other words—between the consciousness of a slave and the consciousness of a son.
And in the depths—between a Torah of rectifying the vessels and a Torah of revealing the light.
The Torah of Torment: The Torah in a Time of Concealment
When a person lives in separation from the Creator, when they perceive themselves as separate, small, and full of lack, the Torah is experienced as a burden, a yoke, a struggle. This is what the writings of the Ari and the Ramchal call “a Torah of action” or “a Torah of rectification.”
The Ramchal wrote in Mesilat Yesharim (Path of the Just): “Life in this world is like a war,” because one must constantly overcome the evil inclination, the concealment, the slumber. This is a Torah whose purpose is to rectify the vessels, to refine the will, to release a person from the grasp of the self. Therefore, it involves suffering, overcoming, and toil, so that one can ascend to a place of truth. This is a Torah of torment—not because the Creator desires torment, but because the soul is still learning through the gap, through resistance.
The Torah of Delight: The Torah of Redemption
When the soul already knows its source, when it feels the Creator within it and is not separate from Him, then the Torah becomes a delight, not a yoke. This is what the writings of the Ari and the Zohar call “a Torah of Atzilut (Emanation)”—a Torah of light, of pleasure, of devekut (cleaving).
The Zohar says: “The Torah... its delights are with the sons of man.” Meaning, the Torah itself delights in a person who is connected, because through them it reveals the infinite light of life.
According to Baal HaSulam, he distinguishes between “Torah for its own sake” (lishma) and “Torah not for its own sake” (lo lishma). In lo lishma, one learns in order to fix, to act, to achieve; it is an effort. In lishma, one learns in order to cleave to the light, and the learning itself becomes a divine delight. The soul delights in the light. “The light within it returns him to the good,” until the revelation of the light becomes a sweet experience, not a war.
According to the Baal HaTanya, when a person learns Torah from love and devekut, they become a chariot for the divine intellect, and the Torah itself becomes a present-day Garden of Eden for them. But when one learns from coercion, duty, or a separate fear, the light is constricted, and the learning becomes a burden. The person themselves becomes a burden because they hold to an external Torah and try to impose it on their surroundings. “When a person is occupied with Torah lishma, the Holy One, blessed be He, delights with him.”
The Torah of torment is a Torah of separation, of servitude, of “I have to.”
The Torah of delight is a Torah of unity, of freedom, of “He and I are one.”
When a person learns Torah to clarify and fix themselves without connection—this is a Torah of torment.
When they learn Torah to discover their light—this is a Torah of delight.
“Were not Your Torah my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.” (Psalms 119:92)
The shift from torment to delight is the shift from seeing oneself as a broken vessel that needs fixing, to discovering that the light is already within, and all learning is simply the exposure of this light.
This is the Torah of Mashiach.
A Torah in which there is no longer an effort to fix, but a delight in revealing the perfection that already is.
This is a “Torah of Life” in the fullest sense of the word—a movement of love between the soul and its Creator.
Not a Torah of effort but of love,
not of fear but of intimacy.
This is the Torah for the souls of the final generation, who return to learning not to become good, but to discover the good that is already in us.
Reflect:
In your own life or spiritual practice, where do you feel the “torment” of obligation, and where do you feel the “delight” of connection?
What would it mean to shift from a consciousness of a “slave” (doing things out of fear or duty) to that of a “son” (acting from love and inherent belonging)?
Can you allow yourself to believe that the “good” is already within you, and your only job is to joyfully reveal it, not create it?
The conversation continues below.