Vayera
Genesis 18:1-22:24
Kings II 4:1-37
“Whatever you do, just don’t look.” This was the sort of advice that might be given to a traveller in ancient Greece, going anywhere near the abode of the mythic Medusa; gazing upon her was said to turn any onlooker to stone. Of course, being told not to look serves to arouse curiosity and makes it feel all the more imperative to peek. Yet there is that which is better left unseen.
The notion of looking away or else risking being frozen forever after has earlier roots than Greece, roots that are found in this week’s Torah portion. Avraham’s nephew Lot and his family flee the destruction of the wicked city of Sodom, and the cautionary words of direction offered them by angels are “don’t look back” (Genesis 19:17). Unfortunately, Lot’s wife looks back anyway and is instantly turned into a pillar of salt.
What an odd consequence! Why is the punishment of gazing back upon Sodom that one turns to salt? Our Torah has some intriguing downfalls offered to its villains, but this is one of a kind. Of all things, a person turned into a food additive?
An illuminating talmudic story of clever thinking is found in Tractate Sanhedrin (page 109B): Avraham’s trusted servant Eliezer was traveling, and came to Sodom. In that famously inhospitable city, there was a rule that if someone offered food to a guest then that host would be stripped of all their clothing on the spot. Eliezer arrives into town and predictably, no one offers him any food. So he goes to the public celebration and takes a seat at the end of the table.
A local approaches him and asks gruffly, “Who invited you?” Eliezer thinks quickly and responds in a loud voice “You did!” The man grabs his cloak and runs away in fear that someone will hear and strip him naked. Then someone else asks Eliezer the same question and he responds identically, with the same results. These exchanges repeat until Eliezer finds himself alone and helps himself to the buffet.
We see here that among the primary traits of Sodom is that the people were very afraid of losing what they had. Indeed, the Mishnah in Pirkei Avot (5:13) describes Sodom as a city whose motto was “what is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours.” That may be precisely the reason that Lot chose it for his new home when he was having difficulty sharing the grazing land with Avraham’s shepherds. Sodom was a place where you could keep what you had.
This is in direct contrast to the trailblazing leaders of the Jewish future, Avraham and Sarah (and their servant Eliezer), who lived lives full of risk and new horizons. They braved the furnace of Nimrod in standing up for monotheism, made aliyah to Israel, traveled to Egypt, fought wars to rescue captured family members, experimented with surrogacy, performed circumcision at an advanced age and more. Lives full of risk and the embrace of new possibilities. They took chances in life to try and gain more, to become more. They risked what they had to go further.
Sodom rejected this concept, and would sooner lose out on a party than risk having someone think that they had invited a guest. They could never risk having a stranger come who could “take away” their hard-earned resources. There was to be no sharing at all; all that one had was to be preserved.
Lot’s wife, who is afraid to risk leaving Sodom, thus turns to salt. She becomes a preservative. Salt keeps things as they are, though never as good as that which is truly fresh.
Are we spending our lives avoiding all risk to keep what we have? In truth, we are placed here on Earth to move forward, and not to cling to that which cannot be preserved forever anyway. There is no such thing as a risk-free life. If nothing else, one at least risks missing out on things if you take none. In the words of T.S. Eliot, “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” Shabbat shalom.
Rabbi Judah Dardik is the spiritual leader at Orthodox Beth Jacob Congregation in Oakland. He can be reached at [email protected].