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Lot Chose Sodom for Its Wickedness Not Despite It

Lot lifted his eyes toward fornication and saw the well-watered plain. Targum Jonathan adds one word that changes everything about why he chose Sodom.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Gaze That Decided Everything
  2. Why He Had Left Abraham's Camp
  3. The Angels Who Arrived Late
  4. The Offer That Cannot Be Defended
  5. The Wealth That Made Him Stay

The Gaze That Decided Everything

The Torah says it plainly: Lot lifted his eyes and saw that the whole plain of Jordan was well watered everywhere, like the garden of the Lord, like Egypt. He chose it. He moved his tents toward Sodom. The verse presents this as a reasonable agricultural decision, a man of livestock assessing water and grass and making a practical calculation.

The ancient Aramaic translators of Targum Jonathan added a single word that collapses the practical reading entirely. Lot lifted his eyes toward fornication. Then he saw the well-watered plain. The translators did not describe what Lot saw. They described what Lot wanted. His eyes were already oriented toward corruption before they landed on the landscape. The lush Jordan valley was not the temptation. It was the excuse. The farmland was real, and the water was real, and the calculation about livestock was real. But it was not why he chose Sodom.

He chose Sodom because of what happened there at night. The water was the pretext his better self could point to when he needed one.

Why He Had Left Abraham's Camp

The separation from Abraham had not been inevitable. Abraham's shepherds and Lot's shepherds had fought, and Abraham had offered Lot the choice of land, right or left, and had said they were family and should not quarrel. The offer was generous and the solution was simple: take a portion of the land and go.

But the Targum explains the original quarrel in a way that shifts its ethical weight. Abraham's shepherds had been muzzling their animals to prevent them from grazing on land that had not yet been given to Abraham as an outright possession. Lot's shepherds had not muzzled theirs. When challenged on this, they said that God had already promised all the land to Abraham, and that Lot was Abraham's heir, and that Lot's animals therefore had every right to graze on it. Abraham's people said Lot was not the heir. The fight was about inheritance, and underneath the inheritance fight was a deeper question about whether Lot believed he was the continuation of Abraham's covenant or not.

He moved toward Sodom carrying that belief with him: that he was Abraham's successor, that what was Abraham's was eventually his. What happened in Sodom to that belief is part of the story the angels eventually witnessed.

The Angels Who Arrived Late

They came to Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting at the city gate. The Talmudic and midrashic traditions read the word evening as carrying additional weight: they arrived slowly, at the end of the day, when their power was already diminished. The angels who had visited Abraham had come at noon, in the heat of the day, moving at the speed of urgent purpose. These came at evening, cautiously, because Sodom was the kind of place that required caution from those sent to assess it.

Lot saw them and rose immediately, bowed to the ground, and insisted they come into his house. He prepared a meal. He served them. These were gestures Abraham had modeled, and Lot had learned them from Abraham, and in his house in Sodom he was performing hospitality that belonged to a different moral world than the one surrounding him. The city at that moment was outside his door, about to demonstrate what kind of world it was.

The Offer That Cannot Be Defended

When the crowd surrounded the house and demanded Lot surrender his guests, he went outside and closed the door behind him. He addressed them as brothers. He pleaded. And then he made the offer the rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah wrestled with for centuries: he would bring out his two daughters instead.

The tradition does not excuse this. What it does is trace the collapse precisely. Lot had come to Sodom with genuine instincts toward hospitality and righteousness. He had learned those instincts from Abraham. But twenty years in Sodom had done something to those instincts, had bent them in a specific direction: he would protect a stranger by offering his own daughter. He had absorbed enough of Sodom's framework that a daughter was a sacrifice he could offer. He was still performing the form of Abraham's values, hospitality toward guests, but the content had been hollowed by the city around him.

The rabbis saw in his daughters' offer a seed of what came later: the daughters who gave Moab and Ammon to the world also came from a father who had demonstrated, in the doorway of his house in Sodom, how he calculated family against obligation.

The Wealth That Made Him Stay

When the angels told Lot to flee, the Torah says he hesitated. The Hebrew word the text uses, vayitmama, suggests more than simple hesitation. Bereshit Rabbah reads it as wonder upon wonder: Lot stood in the doorway of his burning city unable to move, not because he was afraid but because he was calculating what he was leaving behind. Silver. Gold. Gems. Jewels. Everything he had accumulated over twenty years in Sodom.

The tradition's comment on this moment is sharp: Wealth is accumulated for its owner to their ruin. Lot had come to Sodom for what Sodom could provide. He had gotten it. He had become wealthy in exactly the way you become wealthy in a place that rewards the things Sodom rewarded. And now, when his life required him to leave that wealth behind, his legs would not carry him through the door without the angels physically grabbing his hand, his wife's hand, his daughters' hands, and pulling them out.

He left. His wife looked back and stayed. Lot arrived in the cave above Zoar with his daughters and nothing else, and what happened next in the cave was, in the tradition's reading, the final consequence of the gaze with which the whole story had begun: the eyes lifted toward fornication, decades before, at the moment he chose Sodom.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Targum Jonathan on Genesis 13Targum Jonathan

In (Genesis 13:10), Lot "lifted up his eyes and saw the whole plain of the Jordan, that it was well watered everywhere." A simple observation about good farmland. But the ancient Aramaic translators of Targum Jonathan saw something far darker in that gaze, and their single added word transforms the entire story.

The Targum says Lot "uplifted his eyes towards fornication". And then beheld the well-watered plain. The translators did not describe what Lot saw. They described what Lot wanted. His eyes were already seeking sin before they landed on the landscape. The lush Jordan Valley was not the temptation. It was the excuse. Lot chose Sodom not despite its wickedness but because of it.

The Targum also explains the dispute between Abraham's shepherds and Lot's shepherds in a way the Hebrew never does. In Genesis, we learn only that "there was strife" (Genesis 13:7). The Targum fills in the details: Abraham had specifically instructed his shepherds not to graze among the Canaanites and Perizzites, and to restrain their cattle from trespassing on others' pastures. Lot's shepherds ignored these rules entirely, "feeding in the grounds of the Kenaanaee and Pherizaee." The argument was not about grazing rights. It was about ethics. Abraham demanded scrupulous honesty while Lot's people took whatever they pleased.

The depravity of Sodom also gets a far more detailed treatment. Where Genesis says only that "the men of Sodom were wicked and sinners" (Genesis 13:13), the Targum catalogs their crimes: they "sinned in their bodies," "sinned with open nakedness," shed "innocent blood," and "practiced strange worship." Four distinct categories of transgression, escalating from personal corruption to idolatry. The translators wanted no ambiguity about what made Sodom worthy of destruction.

And one quiet addition changes the theology of the whole chapter. Lot prospered, the Targum notes, only because he "was remembered through the righteousness of Abraham." Every sheep and ox Lot owned was borrowed merit. When he walked toward Sodom, he was spending someone else's spiritual credit.

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Bereshit Rabbah 50:1Bereshit Rabbah

Seriously, Do they zip around at the speed of light? Or do they… well, dawdle a bit?

Our story begins, as so many do, in the Book of Genesis, chapter 19, verse 1: “The two angels came to Sodom in the evening and Lot was sitting at the gate of Sodom; Lot saw them, and rose to meet them, and he prostrated himself with his face to the ground.” But it's not just about their arrival; it's about how they arrived.

The text says, “The two angels came to Sodom in the evening…” and this prompts some fascinating interpretations in Bereshit Rabbah. The Rabbis connect this to the prophet Ezekiel, specifically (Ezekiel 1:14), which describes the ḥayot – a type of angel – as “darting to and fro like the appearance of a flash.” So, were these angels blazing fast?

Rabbi Aivu offers a subtle but significant reading. He points out that the word used isn't the usual "ratzot," which simply means "running" or "darting." Instead, it's "ratzo," which also carries the meaning of "desire." He suggests that these angels weren't just moving quickly; they were driven by a deep desire to fulfill their mission. It's not just about speed; it's about intention.

And what about that "flash"? Rabbi Yehuda, quoting Rabbi Simon who is quoting Rabbi Levi bar Parta, provides a vivid image: it's like someone scattering bozek – olive pomace, the dry pulp left after pressing olives for oil – into an oven. Anyone who's seen that knows it ignites in a quick burst of flame. A sudden, intense light.

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba offers another image: the angels moved like wind driving an empty wineskin, tossed and turned by forces unseen. The Rabbis add another: like wind driving the clouds. These aren't just descriptions of speed, are they? They’re metaphors for the power and the mystery of divine movement.

But here's the kicker: if these angels were so fast, why did it take them so long to get to Sodom? They left Abraham at the sixth hour (midday) and only arrived in Sodom in the evening. That's quite a delay for beings who can supposedly move like lightning!

The explanation given is beautiful. These weren't just any angels; they were angels of mercy. And they were tarrying. They were deliberately slowing down, hoping, believing that perhaps God might find some merit in the people of Sodom as a result of Abraham’s powerful intercessions. They were searching for a reason to not carry out their destructive mission.

As we find in Midrash Rabbah, they lingered, hoping against hope. But when no merit was found, when the wickedness of Sodom proved too great, only then did "the two angels came to Sodom in the evening."

What does this tell us? Maybe it's not just about how fast we move, but about the intentions we carry with us. Are we driven by a desire for justice, like the angels? Or do we tarry, searching for mercy, for reasons to hope? The angels’ journey to Sodom, it seems, is a powerful reminder that even divine beings can be moved by compassion and the enduring hope for redemption.

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Bereshit Rabbah 50:3Bereshit Rabbah

It's like a linguistic puzzle, where sometimes a single letter can shift the whole meaning of a word. And that brings us to a curious little detail in the Torah, one that our sages in Bereshit Rabbah (50) pick up on when discussing the story of Sodom.

The Torah says "To Sodom" [sedoma]. Now, Rabbi Nechemya teaches us something fascinating: often, words that would normally start with the prefix lamed – which usually indicates "to" – get a heh at the end instead. Think of it: Sedoma (to Sodom), Se’ira (to Se’ir), Mitzraima (to Egypt), Ḥarana (to Ḥaran). It's like a little code baked right into the language.

Then, of course, there's always an exception that proves the rule. What about the verse "The wicked will return to the netherworld [lishola]" (Psalms 9:18)? It's got both a lamed prefix AND a heh suffix! What gives? Rabbi Abba bar Zavda offers a chilling explanation: in this case, it means "to the lowest depths in the netherworld." It’s not just going to the netherworld, but sinking as far down as possible. Ouch.

The text shifts gears, focusing on the timing of Sodom's demise. "In the evening [ba’erev]"...the Bereshit Rabbah tells us that “the evening of Sodom arrived [ba arba]; its sun had set, and its sentence was sealed." It’s a powerful image, isn’t it? Rabbi Levi then adds a layer of meaning, explaining that God judges the nations of the world at night, when they are sleeping and presumably not actively sinning. But Israel? Israel is judged during the day, when they are engaged in mitzvot (commandments), in good deeds. This is based on the verse, "He will judge the world in righteousness. [He will administer fair judgment to the nations]" (Psalms 9:9).

And then, there's Lot. Poor Lot. "And Lot was sitting [yoshev]"... but the text notes that it's written yashav, which implies he wasn't just sitting, but he "assumed his seat." The Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) then reveals that on that very day, Lot had been appointed chief justice of Sodom! Can you imagine? Talk about a thankless job.

The text even gives us the names of the other judges: Ketz Sheker (Ultimate in Lies), Rav Sheker (Chief of Lies), Rav Masteidin (Chief Perverter of Justice), Rav Naval (Chief Scoundrel), and Klepander (Abductor). With colleagues like that, who needs enemies?

Apparently, Lot's "honeymoon" period as a judge didn't last long. When he agreed with the Sodomites, they'd say, "Gesh hala" - rise to the top! But when he dared to disagree, they turned on him, sneering, "This one came to sojourn, and he sits in judgment?" (Genesis 19:9). It just goes to show you, sometimes doing the right thing puts you squarely in the crosshairs.

So, what are we left with? A fascinating linguistic tidbit, a glimpse into the timing of divine judgment, and a stark reminder of the challenges of standing up for what's right, even when surrounded by wickedness. It makes you think about the times we find ourselves in similar situations, doesn't it? The times when speaking truth to power isn't exactly a popularity contest. And perhaps, it reminds us to choose our "seats" carefully, and to always strive to be a force for good, even when it's unpopular.

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Bereshit Rabbah 50:6Bereshit Rabbah

It's a tough story, full of uncomfortable choices, and the rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah, that treasure trove of early commentary, don't shy away from wrestling with it.

Remember the scene? The angels arrive in Sodom disguised as men, and Lot, Abraham's nephew, insists they stay at his house for protection. But the men of the city surround the house, demanding Lot hand over his guests for their pleasure. That's when Lot makes a horrifying offer: his own daughters.

"Lot went out to them to the entrance, and he closed the door behind him," the verse tells us (Genesis 19:6). Then he pleads, "Please, my brethren, do not do evil" (Genesis 19:7). And then comes the truly awful part: "Here now, I have two daughters who have not been intimate with a man; I will now bring them out to you, and you may do to them as is fit in your eyes; only to these men do nothing, inasmuch as they came under the shelter of my roof" (Genesis 19:8).

The rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah (50) pick up on the unusual language Lot uses: "only to these [hael] men.” What's with that word, hael? It sounds almost like a curse. The rabbis see it as pointing to the "terrible acts" the men of Sodom intended. "Just to the men, do not do these terrible [hael] sins," one interpretation suggests.

But there’s another, more surprising, reading: "they are godly." The word El, as in hael, can mean godly or mighty. Could Lot have been hinting at the divine nature of his guests? Were they powerful beings not to be trifled with? It’s a fascinating thought.

And what about that phrase, "inasmuch as they came under the shelter of my roof"? Lot seems to be taking full credit for protecting the angels. But the rabbis offer a different perspective. Maybe it wasn't Lot's merit at all. Maybe, just maybe, it was the merit of Abraham, his righteous uncle, that was protecting everyone. As (Genesis 19:29) suggests, Abraham is described as Lot’s sheltering roof, as it was his merit that protected him from harm.

There's even a suggestion that Lot's wife played a role. The rabbis say that she moved the angels to Lot's side of the house, implying she only agreed to host them in his part of the dwelling. She said to him: ‘If you want to receive them, receive them in your portion [of the house].’ This is why Lot said: “my roof” – mine, but not my wife’s. (Bereshit Rabbah 50). Was she reluctant to welcome these strangers? Did she sense something dangerous about them?

This passage from Bereshit Rabbah reminds us that even the most familiar stories in the Bible are full of hidden depths. It forces us to confront difficult questions about morality, hospitality, and the nature of divine protection. It invites us to look beyond the surface and consider the complex motivations of the characters involved. Who was really protecting whom in Sodom that night? And at what cost?

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Bereshit Rabbah 50:11Bereshit Rabbah

The story of Lot and the destruction of Sodom, as explored in Bereshit Rabbah 50, is a stark reminder of how attachment to material possessions can cloud our judgment and even endanger our lives.

The Torah tells us in (Genesis 19:16) that Lot "hesitated" as the angels urged him to flee the doomed city. But the Hebrew word used, vayitmama, suggests something more than simple hesitation. The Rabbis, in Bereshit Rabbah, see it as "wonderment after wonderment," a kind of stunned disbelief at the prospect of losing his wealth. He was thinking, “What a great loss of silver, gold, gems, and jewels!"

Isn't it ironic? Lot's "great wealth caused him to hesitate to leave the city, thus endangering his life," the text explains. And it leads to a powerful statement: “Wealth is accrued for its owner to his detriment” (Ecclesiastes 5:12).

Bereshit Rabbah doesn't stop there. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi applies this to Lot, but then Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman extends it to Korah, whose wealth led to arrogance and rebellion against Moses (Numbers 16). Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon sees it in Navot, who died rather than part with his inherited land (I Kings 21). Rabbi Levi even applies it to Haman, whose pride, fueled by wealth, ultimately led to his downfall. And Rabbi Yitzḥak connects it to the tribes of Reuben and Gad (Numbers 32), whose focus on their cattle led them to choose a territory that resulted in their exile. Some even say it applies to Job, who lost his wealth only to have it restored!

It's a recurring theme: the danger of clinging too tightly to earthly possessions.

But the story doesn't just dwell on Lot's hesitation. (Genesis 19:16) tells us, "the men grasped his hand, and the hand of his wife, and the hand of his two daughters; out of the compassion of the Lord for him, they took him out, and placed him outside the city.” Who were these "men"? The Rabbis suggest it was Refael, an angel. But hold on – the verse uses plural language. How can one angel be "they"? The answer lies in the subsequent verse, they say, which uses the singular "he said," indicating that one angel was leading the rescue.

And then there's the instruction: "Flee to the mountain." But why the mountain? Bereshit Rabbah offers a beautiful interpretation: the mountain represents the merit of Abraham. The angels were telling Lot to flee to the protection of Abraham's righteousness! This is why the verse uses mountains as a metaphor for Israel's three patriarchs: “Leaping on the mountains” (Song of Songs 2:8)

Lot resists. "Please, no, my lords," he pleads (Genesis 19:18). He argues that he can't flee to the mountain. Why? Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Levi, in the name of Rabbi Ḥama bar Ḥanina, offer a profound insight: Lot felt that in the presence of someone as righteous as Abraham, his own merits would pale in comparison. It's like the woman from Tzarefat telling Elijah, "Did you come to me to evoke my sin and to kill my son?" (I (Kings 17:1)8). Before, she was the most righteous in her city, but next to Elijah, her deeds seemed insignificant. Lot felt the same way about Abraham.

Rabbi Berekhya makes another keen observation: "Just as a bad locale is challenging, so a good locale can be challenging." Lot was used to the valley, to Sodom. The mountain, though a place of safety and righteousness, was unfamiliar and therefore daunting. Even moving from a bad situation to a good one can present its own set of difficulties.

Finally, Lot proposes an alternative: a small, nearby city. "Here now, this city is near to flee there, and it is small; please, I will escape there. Is it not small, and my life will be saved" (Genesis 19:20). And God grants his request. Rabbi Ḥalafta of Caesarea sees in this a powerful message: if Lot, merely for hosting an angel, received such favor, how much more favor will God show to Israel because of their ancestors' merits? “the Lord will show you favor” (Numbers 6:26).

So, what can we take away from Lot's story? Perhaps it's a reminder to examine our own attachments. What are we clinging to that might be hindering our growth, our safety, our ability to embrace a better future? And are we willing to step outside our comfort zones, even when that means facing the daunting prospect of change, or feeling inadequate in the presence of greatness? It’s a lot to think about, isn't it?

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Midrash Tanchuma, Vayera 12Midrash Tanchuma

But before they lay down, the men of the city, even the men of Sodom, came … and they called unto Lot and said: “Where are the men?” (Gen. 19:4–5). From this incident you learn that when he departed from Abraham, Lot chose him all the plain of the Jordan (Gen. 13:11), which was Sodom. Although he saw that the men of Sodom behaved dissolutely, he nevertheless chose Sodom so that he might behave as they did. How do we know this? He said to the men of Sodom: I have two daughters, who have not known man; let me, I pray you, bring them out to you (ibid. 19:7). Normally, a man would prefer to undergo death for the sake of his daughter or his wife; indeed he would willingly kill or be killed for their sake, but this man was willing to allow his daughters to be abused by men. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him: By thy life, keep them (your daughters) for yourself! Schoolchildren will laugh derisively when they read: Thus were both the daughters of Lot with child by their father (ibid., v. 36).

R. Nahman said: How do we know that whosoever is consumed with immoral desires is eventually fed with his own flesh? We know this from Lot (who had intercourse with his own daughters). And they said: Stand back. (And they said: This one fellow came to sojourn, and he will needs play the judge.) Now we will deal worse with thee than with them (ibid., v. 9). That is, we shall do to you what we had intended to do to these men. Now we will deal worse is an expression that implies committing an obscene act: And they pressed sore upon the man, even Lot, and drew near to break the door. But the men put forth their hand and brought Lot into the house to them, etc. (ibid., vv. 9–10).

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