The story revolves around the destruction of Sodom, a city known for its wickedness. Lot, Abraham's nephew, is being led to safety, and the angel says to him, "Hurry; escape there, as I will not be able to do anything until your arrival there. Therefore, he called the name of the city Tzoar" (Genesis 19:22). It's a strange verse, isn't it? Why this delay? What's so special about Lot reaching Tzoar?
Rabbi Levi offers a powerful analogy. Imagine a province with two patrons, like spokesmen, who advocate for its people before the king. One is a humble country-dweller, the other a powerful nobleman. The king becomes furious with the province and wants to punish them severely.
But the king is clever. He realizes that how he punishes them matters. If he punishes them while the nobleman is present, the people will say, "Ah, if only the country-dweller had been here, he would have protected us!" And if he punishes them while the country-dweller is there, they'll say, "If only the nobleman had been here, he would have saved us!"
So, what does this have to do with Sodom? Well, according to Rabbi Levi, some of the Sodomites worshipped the sun, and others worshipped the moon. The Holy One, blessed be He, understood this. If He punished them during the day, the sun-worshippers would cry out, "Had the moon been there, it would have protected us!" And if He punished them at night, the moon-worshippers would lament, "Had the sun been there, it would have protected us!"
So, when did the destruction actually occur? Bereshit Rabbah tells us it was on the sixteenth of Nisan – near the vernal equinox, a time when day and night are nearly equal. As Genesis 19:23 says, "The sun rose upon the earth and Lot came to Tzoar…" According to this interpretation, it was at daybreak, when both the sun and the moon were visible in the heavens.
Think about that for a moment. The timing wasn't arbitrary. It was carefully chosen to eliminate any excuses, any scapegoats. God's judgment was delivered at a moment when no one could claim that another power could have intervened.
This teaches us something profound about divine justice. It's not just about punishment; it's about clarity. It's about ensuring that the consequences are understood, and that no one can deflect responsibility by pointing fingers elsewhere. It's a powerful reminder that we can't blame external forces for our own actions. The destruction of Sodom, according to this midrash, wasn't just about wiping out evil; it was about making a statement about accountability, a statement written across the sky with the sun and the moon as witnesses.