The following in an excerpt from “Eros of Orthodoxy,” translated by Fr. Nicholas Palis and written by Mr. Pantelis Paschou.
The miracle of the man born blind, and the interrogations which followed by the scribes and the Pharisees, pose a problem which does not only concern that former age but also ours as well as the ages to come. The heart of the matter is this: next to the man born blind whom Christ healed and who saw again, there is a multitude of men who have eyes but who close them so as not to see the light and truth. Woe to these! No one will be able to heal them if they don’t want to voluntarily open their eyes to the light, which is ready to flood them like a warm current, bright, powerful and without restraint. To bring this closer to us, we should reflect on a few related concepts within Orthodox thought such as eyes, vision, light, etc.
There are the eyes of the body and the eyes of the spirit. There is the central vision of the body’s eyes, and there also is the spiritual vision which David had when he said: “Your law is a lamp unto my feet, and light in my ways.” There is the light which we see with our bodily eyes, the “material,” light let’s say, and there is also the spiritual light which the prophet Isaiah saw when he wrote: “Out of the night my spirit rises up in the morning toward you, God, because your commandments are a light upon the Earth.”
We must immediately note that there is a great difference between physical and spiritual eyes. Nevertheless we must not leave unnoticed that the one is greatly related to the other and often the one pays heavily for the mistakes of the other or enjoys the benefit of the other’s good works. For this reason, the ancient ethical philosophers and prophets of the Old Testament — up to the spiritually perfected New Testament and all the Fathers and authors of our Church — stress the great care which man should have toward his eyes.
Man’s eyes are not simply “more faithful ears.” They are “the two lamps of the body.” However, where there are lamps and “enlighteners,” if one isn’t careful, they become robbers of sin. They become two long tentacles that wicked souls spread like an octopus in order to grab from afar whatever it likes. Many times the eyes are like two bodiless hands, as Basil the Great says, with which our soul from very far off touches whatever it loves. Thus, whatever it cannot grasp with its bodily hands, it grasps with the bodiless ones. That is, it enjoys it with its eyes because vision is a form of touching in the expression of St. Nikodemos the Hagiorite. Certainly it is more delicate than that of the hands, and a bit “thicker” as a sense than the touching of the imagination and of the mind.
St. Gregory the Theologian notes “the eyes are lamps touching even untouchable things.” Basil the Great analyzes it with this deep observation: “Therefore by a certain touching the face as well deceives the soul towards pleasure by the missiles of the eyes, just like bodiless hands, touching from afar what it wants. And whatever it does not have the authority to touch with hands, it passionately embraces through the missiles of the eyes.”
That physical vision drags us into its desires to such a degree shows that this sense has great power. And it holds such a place in the spiritual-physical human, that it plays a very important role, many times decisive in the resurrection or deadening of the spiritual man. St. Mark Eugenicus explains where this power stems: “The power to see is not different from the immaterial soul, for it depends upon the soul’s spirit,” according to what the experts say about this. So since the eyes have such strength and can bring the soul and body to “ruin” the new problem of Christianity continues that which the Old Testament taught: that vision should be placed along the right road. Allow only spiritual beauties and sights to pass through the gates of the eyes and not those which throw us into external sweetness, the sting of bodily pleasure which at first is imaginary, and then leads us to improper and foul heresies which stem from the eyes.
There are many references in the Old Testament concerning undefiled correct vision, and we can only note a few: “Let your eyes see correctly while your eyelids nod righteously” (Proverbs 4:25). The long-suffering Job quotes: “I made a covenant with my eyes, and I shall not be overcome by a virgin” (Proverbs 31:1). The wise Solomon underlines: “Let not the desire for beauty overcome you, nor be taken captive by your eyes” (Proverbs 6:25). That however, which justifies the well-known axiom “for from seeing is born erotic loving” is the epigrammatically famous saying from the wisdom of Seirach: “The fornication of a woman is in the wandering of the eye” (Seirach 26:9).
We will conclude this small sequence from relevant passages of the Old Testament with the tragic words of David: “Turn my eyes so as not to see vanity” (Psalm 113:37). I say this is tragic because it came after a painful experience as the reader recalls. From his palace he saw Bersheba bathing naked, the wife of a higher officer. David sends her husband to the first round of the battle and thus falls into the devil’s sins of murder and adultery (II Kings 11:2).
The New Testament in many places mentions the “scandalized” eyes, the “wicked,” the “simple,” the “dark,” eyes which need “eye drops” or which must be “taken out,” in order not to scandalize man. This last one may seem very courageous for contemporary man. But this extreme reveals the truth contained in a saying of Christ: “Everyone who looks at a woman desirously has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). And it is certainly preferable for one to take his eye out here on earth — even in reality — rather than they take him out of God’s kingdom and put him in eternal Hell.
The holy Fathers of the Orthodox Church also faced this matter with the same seriousness and on this matter the Fathers have very beautiful spiritual pages. Whoever was to collect them and offer them in an easily understandable book for the masses would offer a great service to Orthodox spirituality.
St. Gregory the Theologian says that if it is at all possible, one should overlook, which is the opposite of “curiously” seeing. The sacred Chrysostom says that if you happen to see beautiful skin of a young man or woman — let your mind not go to the external beauty but to think of that same face without eyes, without lips, without “the red flesh,” with the ugly bones which are hidden underneath, and thus your mind will not go to sin. St. Syncletica says almost the same things as Athanasius the Great mentions in her life.
St. Isidore the Pelusiote says that as many that can should avoid, if possible, even meeting with women — especially clergymen — because most women have an involuntary affectation which brings about sinful indolence and he adds: “For circumstances of necessities or economy of the poor, to converse with heads bowed down” and always, certainly the Christian in every hour of his temptation-filled life, to not forget to slowly chant with his mouth or heart, “I keep the Lord always before me, because he is at my right hand so that I not be moved.” (Psalm 15:8)
Symeon the New Theologian advised Christians not only not to look at the faces of women or youths in the eyes, but neither of the elderly and to ask along with the wise Seirach saying: “Lord, o Father and God of my life, do not give me a wandering eye, and turn desire away from me.” (Seirach 23:4-5).
St. Nikodemos in his much talked of “manual” notes something analogous: “Guard your eyes not only from the vision of the face of women and youths, but also from the curious observations of other parts of their bodies, for many times wicked desire is charmed and deceived by the chanceful parts of the faces of such, even down to their shoes. Whence it is written about Holophernes and Judith: ‘The sandal of Judith grasped the eye of Holophernes and her beauty imprisoned his soul'” (Judith 16:9).
Probably, many will accuse us of excessive severity and that all these things are for monasteries and monks of the desert, and not for Christians of the world. The truth is however that we all are in danger from the open gates of our eyes, certainly more so those in the world. Besides, the nature and character of Orthodox spirituality is monastic, just as the entire life of the Orthodox Church. Since the Gospel, which wasn’t written purposely for monks, is so severe and accusatory, we don’t think that we put unbearable burdens on the backs of Christians. It would be blessed if all of us would avoid seeing whatever is intent on hurting us and leading us, without our suspecting it into sin.
Because in the opinion of St. John of the Ladder, it is egotism for us to think we are stronger than the prophet David not to fear temptations. Here wisdom imposes that we yield as is written also by the Proverbs: “The wise person, being afraid turned away from evil. The foolish one, having faith in himself, mixes with the unlawful.” (Proverbs 14:16) St. Isidore the Pelusiote commented on this very “accurately” with a charming dilemma: “If looking, do not love passionately or loving passionately do not look. If the former seems difficult to some, to some impossible, the second can be practiced. For safety is better than indiscretion.”
At every moment our eyes should pass from the material and physical, to spiritual vision. But in order to pass to the spiritual vision and not run the dangers of sin and of spiritual death that we mentioned a short while ago, we must see not only with the material eye, but also with the spiritual one. “Sweet is the light,” says Ecclesiastics, “and it is good for the eyes to see the sun.” (Ecclesiastics 11:7) That sun, the spiritual light that will secure spiritual vision, is the word of God, the Son of Righteousness, He who said, “I am the light of the world.”
We must ask God, from this light, to fill our darkness with great humility. St. Gregory Palamas asked day and night: “Lord, enlighten my darkness! Enlighten my darkness!” With this light our eyes will see and will not be blind as most of ours are today. Who while we have eyes, do not see, and walk the road of sin toward death. It is necessary for us to see our sins with more sighs, more tears and more prostrations, and to ask the Lord along with the prophet David: “O Lord, enlighten my eyes so that I may never sleep unto death.” Thus the grace of God, which will see our charity and continuous petitioning and preparations, to receive the spiritual light will sometime allow us to quench our burning thirst with spiritual visions and to “understand things beyond the senses” according to the expression of the God-bearing Maximus the Confessor.
But here in the world in order for the light of divine grace to remain a companion for our eyes, an everlasting cover, we must look upon our suffering brothers as God wishes. Otherwise, our eyes do not see, Satan has tied them with a black handkerchief so that we see nothing. And “as the light of the lamp and of the censorial lamps is not maintained with anything other than the sensorial — according to the words of sacred Chrysostom and of St. Nikodemos — in the same manner the light of the divine grace, is not maintained in the mental lamps of our souls, except through virtues and especially with charity towards the poor.”
O Lord! Light ever burning and not put out, enlighten me. O true Light, always enlightening the world. O most purifying light, viewed only by the most pure eyes. Purify our powers. Purify our eyes, so that I may view you with healthy eyes. Cut off the scales of the ancient darkness by the rays of your enlightenment, “unapproachable light.” Widen, I beg, my soul. Reveal to my eyes, and I shall understand the wonders of your law. (St. Nikodemos, “Epitome” from the Psalms of the Great Prophet David, pg. 205).
