Shmiras Einayim: The Eyes Are Not Hefker

Topics

• Seeking the Eibishter's Guidance in Giving Mussar
• Why Does the Torah Say "Vayisa Einav Vayar"?
• Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov: An Unusual Expression
• The Alter of Kelm: The Eyes Are Not Hefker
• The Baal Shem Tov: When a Tzaddik's Limbs Follow His Will
• Abaye's Warning: "Lo Taḥzu" — Do Not Look Around
• Teaching with Derech Eretz and with Seichel
• The Brisker Rav: Even What We Despise Can Influence Us
• What Exactly Did Abaye Forbid Looking At?
• "Achorei Ari Velo Achorei Ishah"
• The Radbaz: Even When There Is No Exposed Skin
• Conclusion: "Vayisa Einav Vayar"

Transcript

## Seeking the Eibishter's Guidance in Giving Mussar

I'll tell you what I was thinking. I need real *emes*. Since I came here, I have believed that when a thought comes into my head to teach over here, perhaps the Ribbono Shel Olam wants me to say it. There is a *kavanah* in it. Let me explain what I mean.

When a person gives someone an *eitzah*, how does he know that his advice is right? Who knows what will actually help? I certainly don't know. I saw an *eitzah* attributed to a sefer called *Yafeh Lev*: before advising someone, say the pasuk, **"רבות מחשבות בלב איש ועצת ה' היא תקום"**—"Many are the thoughts in a man's heart, but the counsel of Hashem is what will stand" (Mishlei 19:21). A person has ideas, but the Ribbono Shel Olam must guide the one giving the advice.

I have also heard brought from the Arizal that before giving *eitzos*, a person should turn to Torah and learn; from the Torah the *eitzah* emerges. A human being is not, on his own, the *baal yoetz* who knows all the answers.

I sat and thought: what is going to work in *shmiras einayim*? The *oilam* is urging me to speak about it. I think and think, but I don't know the answer. So I decided: let me learn the *sugyos*. Whatever the Eibishter puts into my head through the *sugyos*, perhaps that itself will give tremendous *chizuk* in *inyanei shmiras einayim*. I don't mean *sugyos* in practical halachah alone. I mean the mussar *sugyos*, the Torah's way of thinking about *shmiras einayim*.

And I want to be honest with you: I don't claim to have this *sugya* worked out. In *Hilchos Shabbos*, there are things I know. Here, I am learning it together with you. It is also difficult for me to place myself entirely in your situation. I am from a different generation. Ten or twenty years can make a difference. I do not feel all the things you feel, or understand the circumstances quite the way you do. That makes me even more careful about claiming to know what will help.

But let's see what comes out of learning. I believe there is a *moredige yesod* here.

Look at how the Chazon Ish brings *maamarei Chazal*. Sometimes he puts one Gemara after another, without the kind of extended presentation we're used to. What is the explanation? Great people were able to draw the nourishment for *yiras Shamayim* directly from the raw material—the Gemara and Chazal themselves. We may need a little more *avodah*: a *kashya*, a *teretz*, a *mashal*, and a *maaseh*. But the nourishment still has to come from Torah and Chazal.

That is my hope for these *shmuessen*. We'll follow the *derech* of the *Baalei Mussar*, enter their *olam hamachshavah*, and learn from what the great masters of mussar taught. I ask the Ribbono Shel Olam to guide me in what to say. Nobody should think that I have all the answers. I am trying.

## Why Does the Torah Say "Vayisa Einav Vayar"?

Now, I was thinking about a *yesod* in Parashas Vayeira. The Torah says about Avraham Avinu: **"וישא עיניו וירא והנה שלשה אנשים נצבים עליו"**—"He lifted his eyes and saw, and behold, three men were standing near him" (Bereishis 18:2).

What does **"וישא עיניו וירא"** mean? Why tell us that he *lifted his eyes* before he saw? That is where I want to begin.

## Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov: An Unusual Expression

*Vayisa einav vayar.* What is the simple *pshat*? Avraham Avinu was speaking to the Eibishter. When a person is speaking to the Eibishter, his attention and his eyes are not in the street. He is absorbed in what he is doing. So the Torah tells us that he lifted his eyes and saw the three men. That could be the simple explanation, even the way you would explain it to a child.

We find similar language elsewhere. By Yitzchak Avinu, the Torah says: **"ויצא יצחק לשוח בשדה לפנות ערב וישא עיניו וירא והנה גמלים באים"** (Bereishis 24:63)—Yitzchak went out to *lasuach* in the field toward evening, and then lifted his eyes and saw camels approaching. Chazal associate *lasuach* with tefillah (Berachos 26b). Here, too, he was occupied in *avodah*. He was not looking around at everything in the field. His thoughts were somewhere entirely different. It took an act of looking up.

There is another question, though. If Avraham was speaking to the Eibishter, what caused him to look? What aroused him to interrupt that concentration? Perhaps he sensed something. I don't know. It is an interesting *ha'arah* by itself, and I have thought about it.

But now take Yaakov Avinu. The Torah says: **"וישא יעקב עיניו וירא והנה עשו בא"** (Bereishis 33:1). Yaakov lifted his eyes and saw Esav approaching. Was Yaakov perhaps absorbed in Torah? His entire life was Torah. That is a possible way to approach it, but the question remains: why use this expression? Does *vayisa* suggest something more?

And we find the same language in other *pesukim*. Don't just listen to me. Take out a Chumash and look at the words. I come and go; I'm not here forever. You have to *shteig* in learning. You have to learn the *mekoros* yourselves. Open Bereishis, perek yud-ches, pasuk beis, and read it. *Shteit klar*: **"וישא עיניו וירא."**

Perhaps Avraham was completely absorbed in speaking to Hashem; perhaps Yitzchak, out in the field, was meditating on *deveikus HaBorei* like the great *Baalei Mussar* in their solitude. The details may differ, but in each case there is a question about what it means to lift one's eyes.

Now take out the Sforno. There is a *moredige Sforno* here.

On **"וישא עיניו"** (Bereishis 18:2), the Sforno writes just two words: **"התכוון להסתכל"**—he intended to look.

Hear those words carefully. It was not simply that Avraham happened to see something. He *intended* to look. What does that tell us about the way a person should use his eyes?

## The Alter of Kelm: The Eyes Are Not Hefker

The Sforno says **"התכוון להסתכל"**—he intended to look. There had to be an act of intention. And I want to tell you what I saw from the Alter of Kelm, in his *kesavim*. We should begin learning the writings of the Alter of Kelm and the Alter of Slabodka more seriously. I would like us to build something of a *beis hamussar* here.

A story is related about a *talmid* in Kelm who heard a commotion in the street. He went over to the window and peeked out. The window was covered, and he looked through the covering. The Alter of Kelm saw him and objected very sharply. **"Sakanah!"** he said. Danger! What are you doing looking out the window? The eyes are not *hefker*.

I have also heard how the Chofetz Chaim arranged the windows of his yeshivah high enough that the *bachurim* could not casually watch the street. These things were part of an entire *mahalach* of guarding one's attention.

The Alter of Kelm connects the subject with a teaching attributed to the *Reishis Chochmah*. Dovid HaMelech says, **"אשא עיני אל ההרים"**—"I lift my eyes to the mountains" (Tehillim 121:1). Why doesn't it simply say, "I see the mountains"? What is **"אשא"**? It indicates an intentional act: I raise my eyes. Ordinarily my eyes are not wandering everywhere; I have to choose to lift them.

And so, in that *mahalach*, **"וישא אברהם את עיניו"** means there was a conscious decision to look. The eyes of a *tzaddik* are not allowed to roam without direction.

Now, when I say a person's eyes should be down, I don't mean that he must literally stare at the ground every moment. A person must know where he is walking, and obviously he has to look when he drives. We have to understand the *yesod*, not turn it into an absurdity. The point is that a person should direct his looking rather than let his eyes do whatever they want.

You could ask: doesn't the expression *vayisa einav* appear elsewhere, even in places where the interpretation may not be so straightforward? A good *kashya*. It shows us that we have to learn every pasuk carefully. But for the mussar point, hear what the Sforno says: **"התכוון להסתכל."** He made an effort to look.

The *oilam* raises the question about Esav as well. Even a person looking for what he should not see may be looking deliberately. That's an interesting observation. But I want to stay with the *yesod*: for the *tzaddik*, looking was not automatic. He did not cast his eyes about aimlessly.

Now there is a different *mahalach* attributed to the Baal Shem Tov. Listen to this, because it addresses another side of our question.

## The Baal Shem Tov: When a Tzaddik's Limbs Follow His Will

There is a teaching that **"צדיקים לבם ברשותם"**—the hearts of the *tzaddikim* are under their control. And we have the teaching about Dovid HaMelech: he would intend to go elsewhere, and his feet would bring him to the *batei knessiyos* and *batei midrashos* (Vayikra Rabbah 35:1, expounding Tehillim 119:59).

The Baal Shem Tov is quoted as giving another way of understanding **"וישא עיניו וירא"**: in a sense, his eyes themselves directed him toward what needed to be seen. We asked: how did Avraham know to look just then? In this approach, the *tzaddik* is so trained in *avodas Hashem* that even his limbs respond in the proper direction.

Do you hear the difference? One explanation of **"התכוון להסתכל"** is that Avraham was occupied with the Eibishter and consciously interrupted his concentration to look. The Alter of Kelm's mussar explanation stresses that he would not ordinarily look around at all; he looked only with *kavanah*. The teaching attributed to the Baal Shem Tov addresses the other question: how was he drawn toward what he needed to see?

Perhaps these ideas can be brought together. There is the *pshat* in the pasuk, and then there is a profound lesson in mussar. In either case, we are learning that a person's eyes should not be *hefker*.

## Abaye's Warning: "Lo Taḥzu" — Do Not Look Around

Now I want to say a *gevaldige pshat* in a Gemara.

The Gemara in Berachos 62b relates that Abaye told the *Rabbanan*: **"כי עייליתו בשבילי דמחוזא למיפק ביה בחקלא, לא תחזו לא להך גיסא ולא להך גיסא, דלמא יתבי נשי, ולאו אורח ארעא לאסתכולי בהו."**

When you travel by the paths of Mechuza toward the fields, don't look to one side or the other; women might be sitting there, and it is not *derech eretz* to stare at them.

Take out the Gemara. Don't depend on me. I am not here to entertain you; I want us to learn the *Gemara* inside. It is right there on *samech-beis amud beis*.

Now let me ask you a *kashya*. Abaye says **"ולאו אורח ארעא"**—it isn't proper conduct. Is that all? We are speaking about *shmiras einayim*. Why isn't his warning phrased in terms of the gravity of the prohibition, **"ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם"** (Bamidbar 15:39)? Why give what sounds like a matter of politeness or proper manners?

There are other places in the Gemara where *orach ara* is used in a discussion of conduct. But here the language is strikingly gentle. I have spoken to you many times about the seriousness of these *inyanim*. If I were giving a fiery mussar *shmuess*, I might speak about the *aveirah* and its dangers. Yet Abaye tells them simply: don't look; it isn't *orach ara*.

Why would he choose that *lashon*? What is he trying to teach us?

I think this may reveal not only *what* to teach, but *how* to teach it. But before you take that as an answer, hear the rest of the *sugya*. We need to examine whether an appeal to the *seichel* and to *derech eretz* is enough.

## Teaching with Derech Eretz and with Seichel

I want to suggest that perhaps the way Abaye teaches is part of the lesson. He doesn't begin by shouting about the *aveirah*. He says: **"לאו אורח ארעא"**—this is not the proper way for a person to behave.

Why might that be the right way to teach *shmiras einayim*? We learned earlier today something from the *Chovos HaLevavos*, in *Shaar Avodas HaElokim*, about the way a person should approach mitzvos. A person should not think only, "It is a mitzvah, so I have to do it," without appreciating the wisdom and rightness of the act. He should recognize that a mitzvah is a *seicheldike zach*: something fitting, sensible, and appropriate. When we speak about guarding one's eyes, perhaps one of the ways to build a person's understanding is to make him feel that indiscriminate staring is simply not *orach ara*. It is not how a decent human being conducts himself.

But don't misunderstand me. I am not saying that the *issur* disappears, or that we are replacing the Torah's command with ordinary manners. I am asking about the *mahalach* of teaching: how does one reach a person? What kind of understanding will enter his heart and change his conduct?

We spoke this morning about a *shmuess* from Reb Chatzkel. There is an interesting question about Yosef and his brothers. After Yaakov Avinu's passing, the brothers feared that Yosef might now repay them for what they had done. They came asking for forgiveness. Yosef told them, **"התחת אלקים אני"**—"Am I in place of G-d?" (Bereishis 50:19).

Why didn't Yosef simply say, "Of course I won't take revenge; it is forbidden"? Why does he speak about standing in G-d's place? Reb Chatzkel uses this to discuss a way of developing *avodas Hashem*: a person ought to see not only the formal prohibition but also how wrong the conduct itself would be.

Now, I have a hesitation about the *kashya*. Earlier, when Yosef was dealing with his brothers, there was the whole process by which he put them through difficulties. We discussed an approach from the Sfas Emes that understands those dealings as guided by a higher purpose. Perhaps the brothers were worried that more of that process would continue after Yaakov's death. If so, their fear might not have been about a simple act of revenge. I am not entirely sure how strongly to press the *kashya*, but the point Reb Chatzkel draws from it deserves consideration.

And compare another episode with Yosef. When he refused the enticement in the house of Potiphar, he first spoke about the trust placed in him and the wrong of betraying it. Then he said, **"ואיך אעשה הרעה הגדלה הזאת וחטאתי לאלקים"**—"How could I do this great evil and sin against G-d?" (Bereishis 39:9). That is a remarkable combination. The act is wrong in itself, and it is a sin against the Ribbono Shel Olam. Someone mentioned an approach from the Beis HaLevi along these lines. Both elements matter.

You can begin with what the *seichel* understands, but the last word is still that the Torah says not to do it. **"The Torah zogt: dos tor men nisht ton."** A Jew obeys because the Torah commands him.

Yet I don't want to stop there. I want to see how far this educational *mahalach* can go. If telling someone that a certain kind of looking is not *orach ara* can reach him, maybe that is a powerful way to help him.

At the same time, I have been challenged about this approach, and rightly so. Reb Moshe has raised objections to it. I want to say something about him: he is a *baal middos tovos*, a person of tremendous *chesed*. I know the *chesed* he does. If a person like that says the idea troubles him, I should not simply brush him aside. I have to try to see it from his angle.

That brings me back to the pasuk **"רבות מחשבות בלב איש ועצת ה' היא תקום."** I had my way of thinking, but perhaps the Eibishter is teaching me something through another person's objections. Let me tell you what I came up with.

## The Brisker Rav: Even What We Despise Can Influence Us

I recently saw a remarkable *vort* attributed to the Brisker Rav, together with a *maaseh*. You know the *oilam* likes *maasim*. I especially like a *maaseh* that brings out the *vort*. The story is that a *talmid chacham* living in Tel Aviv asked the Brisker Rav whether he should move for the sake of his children. The Brisker Rav replied: for your children you should move, but for yourself you should also move. The man was surprised. "I'm a *talmid chacham*, a *yarei Shamayim*. Why should I worry about what the surroundings will do to me?"

And the Brisker Rav answered with a *vort* in Parashas Nitzavim.

Listen, *rabosai*. This *vort* is worth more than diamonds. Dovid HaMelech says, **"טוב לי תורת פיך מאלפי זהב וכסף"**—"The Torah of Your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver" (Tehillim 119:72). Here is the kind of Torah he is speaking about.

The Torah says:

**"כי אתם ידעתם את אשר ישבנו בארץ מצרים ואת אשר עברנו בקרב הגוים אשר עברתם. ותראו את שקוציהם ואת גלליהם עץ ואבן כסף וזהב אשר עמהם."** (Devarim 29:15–16)

You know where we lived in Mitzrayim, and you saw the detestable idols of the nations among whom we passed. Rashi explains that **"שקוציהם"** describes things that are loathsome like *shekatzim*, while **"גלליהם"** describes things foul and disgusting like refuse.

Think of the things a person sees in the reptile section of a zoo. There are creatures that make him recoil. Here, the Torah itself speaks about idols as repulsive things—*shekutzim* and *gilulim*, of wood, stone, silver, and gold.

And what does the Torah say immediately afterward? **"פן יש בכם איש או אשה או משפחה או שבט אשר לבבו פנה היום מעם ה' אלקינו"**—lest there be among you someone whose heart turns away from Hashem (Devarim 29:17). Rashi explains that, because they had encountered idol-worshipping nations, the Torah warns lest someone be drawn after them.

Now *fragt* the Brisker Rav: why? If they saw those things as utterly disgusting, how could they possibly be attracted to them? The Torah has just called them *shekutzim* and *gilulim*. A person looks and says, "Feh! What filth!" Why should the Torah still warn **"פן יש בכם"**—lest someone turn away?

The answer is a tremendous *yesod*: a person can be influenced by exposure to something bad **even when he knows with his seichel that it is disgusting and wrong**. Do you hear? *Afilu* the very things that a person recognizes as corrupt and repulsive can still have a bad influence upon him.

That is what the Brisker Rav is teaching in this *mahalach*. Don't think that because you understand how ugly something is, you are protected against its influence. The *hashpa'ah* can enter even when your mind rejects it. How careful must a person be to distance himself from damaging influences!

Now see what that does to my earlier approach. I was trying to explain *shmiras einayim* through *seichel*: it is not *orach ara*, it is not a sensible or dignified way to conduct oneself. But the Brisker Rav's point challenges that. What if a man knows perfectly well that something is wrong, and it still influences him?

Chazal themselves speak very sharply about the irrational strength of *taavah*: **"אשה חמת מלא צואה ופיה מלא דם והכל רצין אחריה"** (Shabbos 152a). Their graphic expression illustrates that a person's desires need not follow the conclusions of his intellect.

What do Chazal want us to realize? The *seichel* can say one thing, while *taavah* pulls powerfully in another direction. So we cannot simply assume that if we explain to someone how improper a thing is, he will automatically be safe from it.

That is a serious *kashya* on my *mahalach*. But perhaps it helps us understand Abaye's Gemara even more precisely.

## What Exactly Did Abaye Forbid Looking At?

Let's go back to the Gemara in Berachos 62b. Abaye said not to look to this side or that side, because women might be seated there and **"לאו אורח ארעא לאסתכולי בהו"**.

Maybe the point is this: Abaye is not describing a case in which a person has already been seized by *taavah*. He is addressing the earlier act—the deliberate decision to turn one's eyes toward what one has no reason to inspect. **"לא תחזו לא להך גיסא ולא להך גיסא."** Don't look here and don't look there.

That first step is itself not *orach ara*. Even before we discuss the terrible power of *taavah*, a person has to learn to control the direction of his eyes. You don't look merely because you can look. The eyes are not *hefker*. Now perhaps we can understand why Abaye uses this particular *lashon*.

## "Achorei Ari Velo Achorei Ishah"

There is another Gemara that is very important for this *sugya*. In Berachos 61a, Chazal say:

**"אחורי ארי ולא אחורי אשה"**—Better to go behind a lion than behind a woman.

What is the comparison? A lion is dangerous! Why put that next to the question of walking behind a woman?

I saw a beautiful *vort* associated with the *Ein Yaakov*. Dovid HaMelech was able to confront a lion and a bear. He describes how he struck them while protecting his flock (I Shmuel 17:34–36). Yet Dovid HaMelech had his own terrible *nisayon* in the episode with Bas Sheva. The point of the *vort* is that a person may be able to overcome a lion physically and still find a spiritual *nisayon* more difficult to overcome. It may be easier to defeat the lion than to defeat the *yetzer hara*.

But I also saw a different explanation in a *shmuess* attributed to Reb Chatzkel, in a collection referred to as *Mizrach Shemesh*. Here the comparison is about **sakanah**—danger. Behind a lion there is *sakanas haguf*, danger to the body. The Gemara teaches us to recognize how terribly serious *sakanas hanefesh* can be. The spiritual danger must not be dismissed as something small just because it is not immediately visible.

Now hear a *moredige Radbaz*.

## The Radbaz: Even When There Is No Exposed Skin

The Radbaz discusses the statement of Chazal about following behind a woman. What if a woman is covered from head to foot, so that no part of her body is exposed? Does the Gemara's restriction still apply?

In **Teshuvos HaRadbaz, siman 709**, he writes that the Sages did not limit their words to a particular place or manner of dress. He explains that even when someone is fully covered, her walking and movements can produce improper thoughts. He also discusses why simply maintaining a distance of four *amos* is not necessarily sufficient: the question includes whether one can still perceive her gait and movements. The Radbaz goes on to discuss ways of avoiding the situation, and circumstances involving another route or a pressing mitzvah.

Do you hear the *chomer*? We are not speaking only about the obvious case of looking at something uncovered or immodest. The Radbaz takes the Gemara seriously even in a place where women are fully covered. The *sakanah* about which Chazal warn can lie in the act of following and paying attention itself.

This is what we have to understand about **"אחורי ארי ולא אחורי אשה."** We are speaking about the seriousness of *shmiras einayim* and the care a person must take over what he allows himself to see. It returns us to the beginning of the *shiur*: **"וישא עיניו וירא."** The eyes have to be under a person's control.

## Conclusion: "Vayisa Einav Vayar"

Even where a person is covered from head to foot, the Radbaz discusses the effect that observing the person's movements can have. That shows us how seriously we have to take this *sugya*.

And this brings us back to our starting point: **"וישא עיניו וירא."** We want to learn what it means to use the eyes with purpose, rather than letting them wander wherever they will.

We'll be *mamshich* with this. This is the subject we want to work on together. Okay, *rabosai*—Maariv.