Shortly after our marriage, my wife and I moved into our first apartment in Flatbush. For the first three months of our marriage, we lived in Flatbush while my wife finished a one-year post-seminary there.

Close friends came to visit our new apartment. While showing them around, a fly began buzzing around us. After a minute, my mild-mannered friend suddenly instructed us to step aside. He was determined to kill that fly and he wasn’t going to leave before doing so. It was a rather comical few minutes, as my friend circled the apartment, trying to stealthily capture the evasive critter. Finally, after a rather lengthy chase, he pridefully announced that he had triumphed over the fly.

Thankfully, our newly furnished apartment survived, as well.

The Gemara (B’rachos 61a) states that the yeitzer ha’ra is analogous to a fly that sits between the two gateways of the heart. If we were choosing a being analogous to the yeitzer ha’ra, we might have chosen a more ferocious and blatantly dangerous beast. However, the Gemara is teaching us that the danger of the yeitzer ha’ra lies most in its persistence and tenacity. When you swat a fly, you’re convinced it will not return. Yet, moments later, it fearlessly buzzes by again in a most annoying manner.

More often than not, our yeitzer ha’ra does not prod us to commit severe sins immediately. Rather, he buzzes around us, planting ideas in our head until he weakens our resolve and convinces us to push our moral boundaries ever so slightly.

My esteemed colleague, Rabbi Dr. Yoel Berman, shared the following experience from his years as an IDF soldier:

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“War in Lebanon was raging.

“As I was already married, I got to go home for Shabbos. Very early Sunday morning, I returned to my little base near Metula, on Israel’s northern border. But my unit wasn’t there. While I was away for Shabbos, they were sent into Lebanon and apparently forgot to tell me.

“I went to Metula, where the larger army base was. When I told the secretary there that I was looking for my unit, she replied that they were expecting me. She told me to put on my gear and head over to the helicopter pad. I was to take the next helicopter in to rejoin my unit.

“I put on all my gear, including my shachpatz (bulletproof vest).

“The helicopters were Vietnam-era Hueys with two leather benches on each side. I got on the helicopter. There were a bunch of soldiers already sitting on the benches. They were all reservists, which meant they had all been together for years. Some of them had probably fought in the Six-Day War in 1967 or the Yom Kippur War in 1973 and had seen too much. They had a little stubble on their face because they hadn’t shaved in a while, and there were cigarettes dangling from their lower lips.

“I noticed immediately that they were all sitting on their bulletproof vests. I figured there was a good reason why they were sitting on theirs and not wearing them, but I was too embarrassed to ask any of them the reason. I didn’t want to appear like the inexperienced rookie soldier I was.

“After a minute or two, one of the reservists put his arm around me in a grandfatherly manner and said, “B’ni, mei’eizeh kivun atah choshev she’ha’kadurim yavo’u? – My son, from which direction do you think the bullets are going to come?”

*****

The pasuk in Mishlei (24:6) says, “For with strategies you shall wage war for yourself.” The Malbim explains that the yeitzer ha’ra has many weapons and tactics at his disposal. In his perennial spiritual battle, a person must study and anticipate those tactics so that he can be proactive in combatting them. Rabbeinu Yonah writes that it is impossible to wage war without having prior plans of how to attack and overwhelm the enemy.

Among the collected letters of Rav Yitzchok Hutner zt”l (Pachad Yitzchak: Igros U’Kesavim 128) is one written to a talmid who is evidently feeling despondent over what he deems to be personal spiritual failures.

Citing the saying that one can “lose battles but win wars,” Rav Hutner explains that what makes life meaningful is not basking in the exclusive company of one’s yeitzer ha’tov, but rather the dynamic struggle of one’s battle with his yeitzer ha’ra.

Shlomo HaMelech’s maxim that “Seven times does the righteous one fall and get up” (Mishlei 24:16) does not mean that despite falling seven times, the righteous one manages to get up again. In fact, Rav Hutner writes that this is the way the foolish person understands the pasuk. The wise person, however, understands that the righteous person rises because of his failures. It is only through repeated falls that a person learns his weaknesses and vulnerabilities and then can work hard to overcome them and thereby achieve righteousness. The struggles – even the failures – are inherent elements of what can, with determination and perseverance, become an ultimate victory. But the first step is for one to determine from which direction and in what manner the yeitzer ha’ra is firing at him.

Dr. Berman continued his story:

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“Soon after I rejoined my battalion, we were stationed close to the Litani River, where I was given garrison duty. Garrison duty makes a soldier very vulnerable, because he is basically standing in one place on the lookout. It’s much easier to hit a stationary target than a moving target.

“I was one of the guards of a reserve artillery unit. The soldiers in this unit were all older reservists. Most of the time, they just played bridge together.

“I was sitting on the perimeter on a rock next to a barrel, guarding the reserve unit, when I suddenly heard a whoosh sound. I looked at the drum next to me and noticed that it now had a hole which didn’t exist a few seconds earlier. Obviously, a Kalashnikov hit it. They’re big bullets, and one of them had passed a foot and a half from my face. Someone had tried to shoot me. I hit the ground and rolled over. Then I ran back to the reservists in a panic yelling, ‘tsalaf, tsalaf – sniper, sniper! We immediately have to assemble a team to outflank him.’

“I was red-faced and breathless, and I looked up and saw that they were laughing at me. One of them said, ‘You realize, Ha’tzalaf ha’zeh kamal im eiynayim pozlot – the guy who shot you is a cross-eyed Kamal (an Arab name). We don’t want to take him down because he’ll be replaced with ‘bulls-eye Mohammed’ who doesn’t miss. We would rather keep Kamal out there.’”

*****

When the yeitzer ha’ra fires at us, even if we can overcome him, it should serve as a reminder of our vulnerability. The humility of realizing that we are never safe from its machinations and schemes will help us be prepared for the next round, when the yeitzer ha’ra will undoubtedly fire again.

As the weeks of Shovavim commence, we maintain added focus on overcoming our yeitzer ha’ra, particularly regarding matters of k’dushah. To properly do so, we must recognize its tactics and how it buzzes incessantly around and within us, trying to weaken our resolve. If we are constantly vigilant and train ourselves to recognize from which direction we are being fired upon, we can be properly prepared for the enduring internal battle.


Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at www.strivinghigher.com