Our Perception of Sin
Parshas Nasso teaches the laws of the sotah (the punishment for an unfaithful wife), which are followed by the laws of nezirus (a special vow that includes abstinence from wine). The sages ask (Sotah 2a) why these two subjects are placed together. After all, nezirus would seem more appropriately placed within the general subject of vows.
The sages answer that “one who sees a sotah in her demise must abstain from wine.” Wine is, and always has been, the vehicle for frivolous behavior, whose tragic results the sotah embodies. Whoever sees the sotah should distance himself from one of the major causes of this sin – wine.
However, why do the sages prescribe nezirus for one who sees the punishment of a sotah? Such a scene brings home in full force the severity of her sin. If one sees a person sinning, perhaps then he should take steps to distance himself from evil behavior, but why should nezirus apply here?
Rav Gedalia Shor answers that when we see a sinner, this changes our perception of sin. If before, we imagined that a sotah was some evil creature, we now see that she is a regular human being, who walks and talks just like you and me. In an unconscious manner, beholding a sotah brings us closer to the idea of sinning.
In Mishlei (2:16), Shlomo Hamelech describes sin as a “foreign woman.” This is how we must view sin — as something foreign, far away from us. After beholding a sotah, this woman is no longer foreign. The witness must find a way to regain his former distance from sin. He should think to himself: “How did this happen to the sotah? Perhaps it was the result of wine. I will therefore stay far away from wine, to get as far away from sin as I can.” (See commentary of the Gra, ibid.)
Keeping far away from sin means making an assessment – what permissible things can lead me in the direction of sin? Once these things are identified, even if, in and of themselves, they are perfectly mutar, they must be avoided.
The Alter of Kelm saw this insight in Sanhedrin (106a), which relates how the daughters of Midian succeeded in causing some Jews to sin.
Jews were walking outside when they saw a Midianite market. The Midianites had arranged this market so that elderly women were sitting outside selling flax, but when the Jews approached them to buy, younger women inside would appear and say that in their stores, they were selling flax at a lower price.
Jews then entered these stores, where the young Midianite women offered them wine before making the sale (there was no Rabbinic prohibition against drinking wine with non-Jews at this time). Some Jews agreed, and once they were under the influence of alcohol, these Midianite women seduced them. “But first,” they said, “please, bow down to this idol.”
The Alter of Kelm asked: “What could have stopped these Jews from sinning? All they did was walk outside, and there is no issur (prohibition) against walking outside. Next, they went to the market to buy flax, and there is no issur in buying flax. They saw that flax could be bought at a lower price, and there is no issur in buying at a lower price. They were offered wine, and at the time, there was no issur on drinking wine with non-Jews. What could they have done?
The answer is that these Jews, as they saw the Midianite market from afar, should have made an assessment: “What am I going there for? Is this the sort of place where I belong? Is there any risk in engaging Midianite women in conversation, even if it’s just about the price of flax?
Even if they decided to do this, should they go ahead and share a cup of wine with such people?
Even if we are well within the bounds of permitted behavior, it is never too early to assess what things may lead us in the direction of sin, even slightly, and distance ourselves from them.
Rabbanim have for some time been pointing out to the Torah-observant public that some of our gatherings, as “mutar” as they may seem, are fraught with spiritual dangers. For example – concerts. Here, one can be inspired by a frum Jewish singer while sitting on his or her side of the mechitza. However, here can also be a place of wanton mixing (before, during and after the performance, at the lobby and many other locations in and around the venue). If in the Rabbanim’s assessment concerts should be avoided, we must take this seriously.
Rav Friedlander would note that a strategy of the yetzer hara is to challenge us, demanding: Why are you so strict? You’re going too far, much further than halacha requires. You should be taking it easy, instead.
When confronted with this strategy, the response is to protest, energetically. The Talmud (Nedarim 9b) relates an example of one such protest:
A young, handsome shepherd boy from the south once came to the Beis Hamikdash to bring the korbanos of a nazir. When asked why he had taken a vow of nezirus (a step more characteristic of older men trying to ascend in levels of piety), he recounted: Once, I was tending the sheep when I saw my reflection in the well, and my yetzer hara tried to drag me out of this world. I called out — evil one, why are you becoming vain over a world that is not yours! …. I’ll shave you off and offer you to heaven!”
Learn from this youth’s response, says Rav Chaim Friedlander. When he felt his yetzer hara brimming within him, he made a loud protest. Next, he made a resolution and undertook it right away. Had he not yelled so strongly, or had he postponed his nezirus until the following week, who knows if he would have withstood the test? When a person assesses that something might eventually lead to sin, even if it seems like a far-off concern, he has to react strongly.
Rav Shmuel Yaakov Borstein was once in Tel Aviv on Shabbos, where his wife’s family lived. As he was walking to shul together with his brother-in-law on Shabbos morning, some cars passed by. Rav Borstein saw this and rushed off to a corner, as far away from the street as he could get, and as he faced the wall of a building, he began shouting: “Shabbos! Shabbos! Oy-vey, Shabbos!”
His brother-in-law stood nearby, waiting for him to stop. When he saw that Rav Borstein was still shouting, he asked him: “Rav Shmuel, why are you shouting at the wall? If you want to protest chilul Shabbos, shouldn’t you shout at the drivers?”
“I’m not shouting at the drivers,” explained Rav Borstein. “They wouldn’t listen to me anyway. I’m shouting to try to keep their chilul Shabbos from affecting me in any way.”
May we be zoche to keep sin far away from us!