Parshat Vayera5 min read

Sodom Had Judges and Laws and Beds Designed to Mutilate Strangers

Sodom had four named judges and a municipal policy that forced every visitor onto beds designed to stretch or cut them to fit. This was the law.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Welcome at the Gate
  2. The Judges and Their Names
  3. Generosity as a Death Sentence
  4. The War That Came Before the Fire
  5. The Arrogance That Called Down Fire

The Welcome at the Gate

A stranger came to Sodom. Perhaps he had heard it was wealthy. Perhaps the road simply passed through it. At the gate, or in the street, or wherever the city received its visitors, he encountered the procedure. Six men brought the bed. The city kept several of them, positioned in the streets for exactly this purpose. They measured the visitor. If he was shorter than the bed, six men took his limbs and stretched him until he fit, until the joints screamed and the screaming stopped, until whatever was too short had been corrected by force. If he was taller than the bed, they hacked off whatever extended past the frame. Either way, he fit the bed when they were finished with him.

"Thus shall it be done to a man who comes into our land."

Not a mob. An official procedure. A welcome ritual administered with civic authority by men appointed to positions of judicial power.

The Judges and Their Names

The city had four judges: Serak, Sharkad, Zabnac, and Menon. The tradition remembered these names because Abraham's servant Eliezer was said to have given each of them a nickname that summarized their character. The Hebrew words he chose translated roughly as Liar, Ultimate Liar, Fabricator, and Perverter of Justice. The nicknames stuck. Eliezer had looked at the legal system of Sodom and named it precisely.

These were the men who decided cases. Their names in the texts are effectively a verdict on the institution they represented. A judicial system whose judges are named Falsehood and Fraud by the first decent person who encountered them is not a justice system that went wrong. It was a corruption system that wore the costume of law.

Generosity as a Death Sentence

The beds were the most famous policy, but not the only one. The judges of Sodom had worked out a system for handling the poor that was particularly refined in its cruelty. When a poor man came to Sodom, every resident would give him silver and gold. Coins with the donor's name stamped on them, passed over with apparent generosity. The poor man collected them. Then the judges issued a ruling: it was forbidden to sell him bread. He could walk around the city carrying silver stamped with the names of every person who had given it to him, unable to buy food, and he would die of hunger in a city full of people who had officially welcomed him with gifts.

When he died, the donors would come and collect their coins back. His body had served the additional function of a temporary storage facility for their wealth.

The War That Came Before the Fire

Sodom's destruction was not the first catastrophe that visited it. Before the angels came with their fire, four kings came with eight hundred thousand men. The tradition elaborated on this coalition in detail: Amraphel, Arioch, Chedorlaomer, Tidal. Four kings against five. The five kings of the plain, including the king of Sodom, had served the coalition for twelve years. In the thirteenth year they rebelled. In the fourteenth year the four kings came back to settle the matter, and what followed was a rout. The kings of Sodom and Gomorrah fell in the bitumen pits of the valley while their armies scattered into the hills.

Abraham rescued Lot in that war, chasing the four kings with his trained men and recovering the captives. The king of Sodom came out to meet Abraham afterward and offered him the goods. Abraham refused. Not one thread, not one sandal strap. He did not want the king of Sodom to be able to say he had made Abraham rich. Even rescue did not create an obligation to take anything from this city.

The Arrogance That Called Down Fire

The tradition that examined Sodom's destruction from every angle kept returning to the same root. The beds and the judges and the system for starving the poor were symptoms. The disease was arrogance. The city had resources: wealth, agricultural fertility, trade routes, a strong defensive position. It had decided that this abundance was entirely its own achievement and that the obligations created by wealth, the obligations toward the stranger, the poor, the traveler, simply did not apply inside its walls. What happened to visitors in Sodom was not disorder. It was the logical conclusion of a society that had decided its comfort was the only value that mattered.


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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.

Jasher 19Book of Jasher

The familiar story centers on their destruction, but the Book of Jasher, a non-canonical Jewish text that elaborates on stories from the Hebrew Bible, really paints a vivid picture. Chapter 19 gives us some truly disturbing details.

It starts with the judges of Sodom and Gomorrah – Serak, Sharkad, Zabnac, and Menon. Eliezer, Abraham's servant, apparently had a few choice nicknames for them, changing their names to Shakra, Shakrura, Kezobim, and Matzlodin – perhaps a satirical commentary on their wickedness.

The real horror begins with the beds. Yes, beds. The people of Sodom, driven by their judges, set up beds in the streets. And if a stranger happened to wander into town, they'd be forced onto these beds. Six men would measure the poor soul, and if he was too short, they’d stretch him until he screamed. Too tall? They’d hack off bits of him until he fit. “Thus shall it be done to a man that cometh into our land,” they’d say. Can you imagine?

The cruelty didn't stop there. They'd give a poor man silver and gold, but then forbid anyone from giving him food. The Book of Jasher tells us that if the stranger died of hunger, the townspeople would snatch back their coins and even fight over his clothes before dumping his body in the desert.

Eliezer himself witnessed this depravity firsthand when he visited Sodom to check on Lot. He saw a Sodomite stripping a poor man and, intervening, was promptly stoned in the forehead. The attacker then demanded payment for removing the "bad blood"! When Eliezer refused, he was dragged before Shakra (the judge), who sided with the attacker. Eliezer, in a moment of grim justice, then stoned the judge, arguing that he should now pay the attacker, since he was the one enforcing the twisted law.

It’s a brutal, eye-for-an-eye moment.

The story then shifts to Lot's daughter, Paltith. A poor man was starving to death in Sodom, just as described earlier in the chapter. Moved by compassion, Paltith secretly fed him bread, hiding it in her water pitcher. People were amazed at how this man survived for so long without food. They spied on her, caught her in the act, and, according to the Book of Jasher, burned her alive for the crime of showing kindness.

A similar fate befell a young woman in Admah. She gave a thirsty traveler bread and water, and for that act of hospitality, she was covered in honey and left to be stung to death by bees. The text makes it clear: "Her cries ascended to heaven."

It's no wonder, then, that the Lord was provoked. The Book of Jasher emphasizes that Sodom and its sister cities were not suffering. They had plenty, but they refused to share. As it says, "they had abundance of food, and had tranquility amongst them, and still would not sustain the poor and the needy." This lack of compassion, this active cruelty, made their sins "great before the Lord."

This brings us to the familiar story of the angels' arrival, Lot's hospitality, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Lot, his wife, and his daughters are warned to flee. But Lot’s wife, Ado, looks back. The Book of Jasher tells us it wasn’t out of mere curiosity, but because her compassion was moved for her daughters who remained in the city. And, as we know, she turned into a pillar of salt. A pillar of salt that, according to the Book of Jasher, was perpetually licked by oxen, only to regenerate each morning.

Lot and his two remaining daughters fled to a cave. Believing the world was destroyed, the daughters got their father drunk and slept with him. The resulting offspring were the ancestors of the Moabites and Ammonites. The firstborn called her son Moab, saying, "From my father did I conceive him." The younger also called her son Benami. It’s a disturbing conclusion to an already disturbing story.

Abraham, rising early the next morning, saw the smoke rising from the cities "like the smoke of a furnace."

So, what are we left with? The story of Sodom and Gomorrah isn't just about sexual sin, as it's often portrayed. The Book of Jasher highlights the utter lack of compassion, the institutionalized cruelty, and the horrific treatment of the vulnerable. It's a chilling reminder that a society's moral compass can become so twisted that even basic human kindness becomes a capital crime. And it leaves us to consider: what are the "Sodoms" of our own time, and what can we do to avoid repeating their mistakes?

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Jasher 16Book of Jasher

Sometimes, looking to other texts can give us a fuller picture. This passage from the Book of Jasher.

It begins with a rumble of war. Chedorlaomer, king of Elam, rallies his allies – including Nimrod of Shinar (yes, that Nimrod), Tidal of Goyim, and Arioch of Elasar. Their target? The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, who had been in rebellion for thirteen years. According to the Book of Jasher, these four kings marched with a massive army of around eight hundred thousand men!

The five kings of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboyim, and Zoar met them in the valley of Siddim. The battle was fierce, but the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah were defeated. The victors plundered Sodom and Gomorrah, and, tragically, they captured Lot, Abram's nephew, along with all his possessions.

Being Abram and hearing this news. The Book of Jasher tells us that one of Abram's servants, Unic, witnessed the events and rushed to inform him. Abram, a man of peace, took decisive action. He gathered about 318 men and pursued the four kings that very night! Against all odds, Abram and his men overtook them, defeating them and recovering all the stolen property, including Lot and his family. Only the four kings managed to escape.

On his return, Abram passed through the valley of Siddim, where he was met by Bera, the king of Sodom, who had managed to escape from the slime pits (the Book of Jasher says that the valley of Siddim was full of them). And then, a really interesting figure appears: Adonizedek, the king of Jerusalem. The same was Shem, the text clarifies. Yes, that Shem, one of Noah's sons! According to tradition, Shem held a priesthood, passing on the traditions of Noah.

Adonizedek brought bread and wine to Abram, blessing him. Abram, in turn, gave him a tenth of the spoils, acknowledging Adonizedek's priestly role. This is fascinating when you consider that this encounter predates the establishment of the formal priesthood we see later in the Torah.

The king of Sodom, grateful for Abram's intervention, offered him all the recovered property, asking only for the return of his people. But Abram, in a powerful display of integrity, refused. He declared, "As the Lord liveth who created heaven and earth. I will not take anything belonging to you." Abram wanted no one to say that he had become rich through Sodom's wealth. He only asked for the provisions consumed by his men and the share due to his allies, Anar, Ashcol, and Mamre.

Abram then returned Lot to Sodom and went back to his home in the plains of Mamre, in Hebron.

Later, the Book of Jasher recounts a familiar story: Sarai's barrenness and her offer of her handmaid, Hagar, to Abram, so that he might have children through her. This mirrors the account in Genesis. When Hagar conceived, she began to look down on Sarai. This, of course, caused strife between the two women.

Sarai complained to Abram, and Abram gave Sarai permission to do with Hagar as she saw fit. According to the Book of Jasher, Sarai afflicted Hagar, causing her to flee into the wilderness. There, an angel found her by a well and told her to return to Sarai and submit to her. The angel also prophesied that Hagar would bear a son named Ishmael, and that his descendants would be numerous. Hagar named the well Beer-lahai-roi, meaning "Well of the Living One who sees me."

Hagar then returned to Abram's house and gave birth to Ishmael when Abram was eighty-six years old.

This passage in the Book of Jasher offers a rich expansion of the biblical narrative. It gives us more details about the war with the kings, introduces us to the intriguing figure of Adonizedek, and illuminates the complex relationship between Sarai and Hagar. It reminds us that there are many perspectives and traditions surrounding these foundational stories, and that exploring them can deepen our understanding of the text.

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Vayikra Rabbah 7:6Vayikra Rabbah

Our tradition certainly does. In Vayikra Rabbah, specifically chapter 7, we find a powerful thread connecting arrogance and divine retribution, often in the form of fire. It's a potent image, isn't it?

Rabbi Levi puts it bluntly: "It is a fitting statute that anyone who is haughty is sentenced only in fire." He draws this connection from (Leviticus 6:2), interpreting the word ola, usually translated as "burnt offering," to also mean "one who exalts himself." A clever play on words that reveals a deeper truth.

The text then marches through history, presenting a rogues' gallery of the arrogant and the fiery ends they met. Take the generation of the Flood. Because they sneered, "What is the Almighty that we should serve Him?" (Job 21:15), they were punished with fire, or rather, with scorching waters. As it says, "When scorched, they disappear [nitzmatu]" (Job 6:17). Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi emphasizes the totality of this destruction, comparing it to the permanent transfer of property: "In perpetuity [latzemitut] to the purchaser" (Leviticus 25:30).

Rabbi Yoḥanan adds a chilling detail: God boiled every single drop of floodwater in Gehenna, a sort of Jewish hell. "In its heat they dwindle from their place" (Job 6:17).

Then there are the people of Sodom, who tried to erase travelers from memory. "He drives a shaft away from habitation, [which is forgotten by passersby]" (Job 28:4). Their fate? "The Lord rained down on Sodom [brimstone and fire]" (Genesis 19:24).

Wicked Pharaoh, who infamously asked, "Who is the Lord that I should heed His voice?" (Exodus 5:2), got his fiery comeuppance in the form of hail and fire flashing across Egypt (Exodus 9:24). Sisera, who "oppressed the children of Israel harshly" (Judges 4:3) – Rabbi Yitzḥak explains that "harshly" meant with curses and blasphemy (see (Malachi 3:13-1)4) – faced the wrath of the cosmos: "The stars from their courses waged war [with Sisera]" (Judges 5:20). Those stars, the text reminds us, are balls of fiery gases!

Sennacherib, Nebuchadnezzar. the list goes on. Each one, puffed up with pride and defiance, each one ultimately consumed by fire, whether literal or metaphorical. Sennacherib, who questioned which god could save anyone from his hand (Isaiah 36:20), found that "instead of his glory, a burning will burn…" (Isaiah 10:16). Nebuchadnezzar, who challenged anyone to be saved from him (Daniel 3:15), watched his men get "killed by a flame of fire" (Daniel 3:22). Even the "evil empire" – often interpreted as Rome – which "curses, blasphemes and says: 'Whom do I have in Heaven?'" (Psalms 73:25), is destined to be "consigned to the burning of fire" (Daniel 7:11).

But here's the twist, the glimmer of hope in all this fire and brimstone. What about Israel? What about the Jewish people, "who are scorned and downtrodden in this world?" the verse says, they "will be comforted only with fire." How so? "I will be for it, the utterance of the Lord, a wall of fire all around" (Zechariah 2:9).

The same fire that punishes the arrogant becomes a protective shield for the humble. It's a powerful image of divine justice, and divine love. Perhaps it's a reminder that true strength lies not in boasting, but in humility, in recognizing something greater than ourselves. What does this all mean for us? Maybe it is that we need to be cautious of pride in our own lives, and cognizant of how we treat those around us.

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