July 14, 2026|כ"ט תמוז ה' אלפים תשפ"ו Tourist or Spy? The Eyes Through Which We See the World By Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

What if the same eyes that keep us safe at the airport can quietly make us dangerous everywhere else? The same technology and attitude that make us feel safe can also subtly shape the way we see the world. We stand in line, place our bags on conveyor belts, and walk through machines designed to detect what might be hidden and dangerous. Security personnel are trained to look carefully and critically, notice inconsistencies, and assume that something may be wrong until proven otherwise.

At an airport, that mindset and approach are critically important. It protects people and prevents danger. But if we leave the airport and continue to look at people and life that way, it doesn’t protect; it destroys. When we begin to approach people as if they are passing through our security, when we scan their words for problems, look for inconsistencies, and collect evidence against them, we aren’t safer. Instead, we, and our relationships, are in danger.

The Torah teaches us that the way we see determines the way we live. The Arizal taught that every Hebrew month corresponds to a different part of the human body. The Bnei Yissaschar explains that the months of Tammuz and Av correspond to the right and left eyes, but what does that mean?

As Moshe begins his final message to the Jewish people in Sefer Devarim, he reviews their history and reminds them of the episode of the spies. He says: “You all approached me and said, ‘Let us send men ahead of us to investigate the land.’” Yet this seems to contradict the way the Torah describes the story in Parshas Shelach. There, Hashem tells Moshe: “Send men.” So who initiated the mission? Was it the people, or was it Hashem?

The Ramban explains that there is no contradiction. The people first requested that spies be sent. Moshe agreed with the idea, and Hashem then gave His approval and established the proper guidelines. Sefer Devarim describes the beginning of the process, while Parshas Shelach describes Hashem’s authorization.

The Malbim, however, notices something even deeper. He points out that the Torah itself uses different words to describe the mission. In Sefer Devarim, the people ask that the spies should "וְיַחְפְּרוּ לָנוּ אֶת הָאָרֶץ" dig into the land. Later, they are described as "וַיְרַגְּלוּ אֹתָהּ" spying on it. But when Hashem commands Moshe in Parshas Shelach, the Torah repeatedly uses a different expression: "לָתוּר אֶת הָאָרֶץ" to tour the land.

The Malbim explains that these were not simply different ways of describing the same assignment. They represented two fundamentally different approaches. Hashem wanted tourists. The people became spies. Hashem had already promised that Eretz Yisrael was a good land. He did not need an intelligence report. He did not need them to uncover weaknesses in His plan. He wanted them to tour the land, experience its beauty, appreciate its blessings, and return inspired.

But the people changed the mission. Instead of touring, they dug. Instead of searching for beauty, they searched for problems. Instead of asking, “How can we appreciate this gift?” they asked, “Why will this fail?” They were sent to see the good, but instead, they chose to find the bad.

This distinction is one of the most important lessons of Tammuz and Av because every one of us chooses, every day, which eyes we will use. Will we look at the world like tourists or like spies? A tourist enters a new place and looks around with wonder. They notice beauty, appreciate details, and are curious. They want to listen, learn, and remember the moments that inspired them.

A spy enters the same place looking for vulnerabilities. They search for what is wrong, what is dangerous, and what confirms the suspicions they already had. The difference is not what they see; it is what they are looking for. And this applies most of all to the way we see other people.

Too often, we become spies in our relationships, looking for and noticing flaws, failures, and mistakes. We become experts at collecting evidence about what someone else is doing wrong.

But what if we approached people instead as tourists? What if we looked for what is beautiful in others? What if we looked for what others did right, the best part of who they are, the good in them, and what we have in common? What if we became curious about another person’s story before we became critical of their behavior?

Last year, I read a wonderful book, The Next Conversation: Argue Less, Talk More by Jefferson Fisher. He describes that many people enter conversations with the goal of winning. It could be an argument between a husband and wife, a business negotiation, or a debate with a friend, but the common theme is that we want to win. Instead of trying to win, he writes, we should seek to connect. The book is filled with strategies and language that empower connection.

One of them that really spoke to me is curiosity. He suggests that we approach every conversation with something to learn, not something to prove. Turn your mind from outward to inward and keep your analytical side engaged. Ask yourself questions like: Where is this coming from? What is driving them to say this? What experiences shaped their perspective? What information am I missing? Get in the habit of becoming curious about the source of the request or statement. Curiosity is the antidote to defensiveness. When you’re genuinely curious about someone’s perspective, they feel safe to share it. This creates the foundation for real dialogue, and connection becomes possible.

Chazal teach that the second Beis HaMikdash was destroyed because of sinas chinam, baseless hatred. Hatred does not usually begin with hatred; it begins with the way we see. It begins when we assume motives instead of asking questions and when we interpret instead of understand. It begins when we look at another Jew through the eyes of a spy.

On Tishah B’Av itself, we are not permitted to exchange greetings. She’eilas shalom, saying hello to others, is prohibited. For twenty-five hours, we experience a world where connection and warmth are not only diminished. We feel, even in a small way, what it means to live without the simple human acknowledgment of “hello.”

But before Tishah B’Av arrives, perhaps our responsibility is the opposite. This is the week to greet, to connect, to see people, and to see the best in people. Choose one person you do not usually speak to. Ask them a genuine question and listen to their answer. Become curious about their life.

Don’t approach others as a spy; be a tourist of their lives and of who they are. Look for the beauty and goodness and for what you have in common. Every authentic conversation, every moment of sincere curiosity, every time we choose connection over suspicion is another brick in rebuilding what was destroyed.

This Shabbos is called Shabbos Chazon, the Shabbos of Vision. If we want to see the future redemption, we need to change the way we see today.