Best of Times

The Bible makes a big deal of Abraham’s willingness to leave his home and his birthplace to an unknown destination. The fact that his nephew Lot accompanied his uncle and similarly undertook the rigors of this spiritual odyssey (Genesis 12:4) should also be a testament to Lot’s sterling character. Yet this same Lot who demonstrated such righteousness by following his uncle to an unknown destination now throws his lot in with the most decadent society in the world! What happened in between? Lot prospered. He made it big. Money can do strange things to people. The great Lot who left everything to follow Abraham, now abandons Abraham to follow the money trail Wealth is one of the great tests of mankind. Sodom failed and was destroyed.
Ethics of our Fathers, a moral treatise composed close to two thousand years ago gives us an insight into the ideology of that doomed city. It introduces four character types with regard to property. The first is one who says, “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours,”  is considered average. Some say this is characteristic of Sodom.
Why is the 1st category either average or Sodom-like? We would expect Sodom to be akin to the wicked one. What’s so terrible about saying; “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours”? Why is it possibly average? The answer is: #2 and #4 have no concept or respect for private property. They have little problem feeling deserved of another’s stuff. In contrast
#1 and #3 seem to understand; “what’s yours is yours”. However Sodom’s commitment to respecting the property rights of others is based upon a sinister ulterior motive. Why would they pronounce in principle “what’s yours is yours”? Because they want to insure the more important part; “what’s mine is mine”. They sinned not from impulsiveness but with a dispassionate intellect. That’s worse! Why is that so?
The Maggid of Kelm said many decades before WWII, “Because of Geiger’s Reform Code of Jewish Law, another law will emerge from Germany. It will say that every Jew, without exception, must die. May G-d protect us!” How could he say such a thing? Yet, how true it turned out to be! Was he speaking with prophecy? I don’t think so! My point in mentioning that startling quote is not to stir the larger than life questions of “why?” with regard to the Holocaust but to look for the basis of the Maggid’s logic. Let us say: Shimon comes to school day after day without his homework. Each time his teacher gives him that solemn look and pens a zero in the box marked “homework”. Shimon and his parents are looking forward to a brutal PTA meeting. He is still, albeit failing, a member of the class.
Chaim comes to school and for the first time is missing homework. When asked for a reason, he declares, “My parents say that I don’t have to do any homework or school-work anymore.”
The teacher calls the principal and has the child expelled from school. Why should that be?
He only missed one assignment and Shimon so many!
All the time that Shimon is missing his homework he is wrong, and behind all the clever excuses, he knows it. His teacher hopes that someday he’ll rebound and become responsive to his duties. Chaim declares his conscience dead. He guarantees that he can feel no pangs of regret. In his mind he is now correct in all he does. Legalizing his laziness locks him in a world of limitations no school can overcome.
Similarly, when Sodom promulgated laws disallowing charitable behavior and then enforced it,they sealed their own fate. They could never hope to be better, to become givers as Avraham had attempted to teach. Where there is no hope there can be no life and in the end what was theirs was theirs.
The book of Genesis (in chapters 13-14 and 18-19) tells us about the evil city of Sodom.
First we read how Lot, Abraham’s nephew, settled in Sodom despite the fact that its inhabitants were “very evil and sinful to G-d.” Sodom is ravaged by Cherdolaomer’s armies, and Abraham comes to the rescue of his captured nephew. Then we find Abraham pleading with G-d to spare the sinful city in the merit of the righteous residents that may be there, but it turns out that not even ten such persons can be found. Two angels, disguised as men, visit the city, but only Lot will offer them hospitality. Lot saves them from the Sodomite mob, and they, in turn, rescue him and his two daughters before destroying the city.
What were the sins of Sodom? In the English language, the name of the city is synonymous with sexual perversion. This derives from the Torah’s account of how the mob surrounding Lot’s house demanded that he hand over his two guests to them “that we may rape them.” But the traditional Jewish sources—the Talmud, Midrashim and the Commentaries—have a different angle on the Sodom story. There, the emphasis is not on their sexual sins, but on their lack of hospitality and their virulent opposition to anyone who dared share any of the city’s wealth with a stranger.
In the words of the Talmud: “The men of Sodom were corrupted only on account of the good which G-d had lavished upon them… They said: Since there comes forth bread out of our earth, and it has the dust of gold, why should we suffer wayfarers, who come to us only to deplete our wealth? Come, let us abolish the practice of lodging travelers in our land…”
They even found a way to be charitable while ensuring that no stranger would benefit from their charity: “If a poor man happened to come there, every resident gave him a dinar, upon which he wrote his name, but no bread was sold to him. When he died, each came and took back his dinar.” They went so far as to decree: “Whoever hands a piece of bread to a pauper or stranger shall be burned at the stake.”
The story of Sodom appears in the Torah against the background of Abraham’s life. Indeed, Sodom is the antithesis of Abraham, who is portrayed by the Torah as the very personification of chessed (benevolence). Abraham gives of himself, materially (providing food and lodgings to wayfarers) and spiritually (sharing the truths he discovered, praying for Sodom); the Sodomite is intent on keeping for himself what is his.
What’s notable about the people of Sodom is that they are not thieves (as was the generation of the Flood). Even when they deprive an interloper of his possessions, they are careful to do it in a “legal” manner. In fact, their basic philosophy seems quite benign. In the words of the Ethics of the Fathers:
One who says, “What is mine is mine and what is yours is yours”—this is the trait of Sodom.
What can be more fair? Granted, the people of Sodom took this to quite repulsive extremes. But is every person who declares “What is mine is mine and what is yours is yours” a Sodomite? All he’s saying is, “I won’t touch what is yours, but don’t expect me to give you anything.”
To the Jew, such fairness is the essence of evil.**
Oh Lord, how black my night has come to this that I’ve been saved
The lowest depth my soul to plumb my demons so depraved
All I knew is wiped away, a lifetime gone in smoke
Acid dreams fill every night, in sweated fear awoke
Lost, oh lost, My dreams all lost, Oh rue that fateful day
Oh, had I but turned ‘round to glance, and found sweet death to stay
Instead within this cave of pain, alive, I’m all to blame
To look upon filth’ progeny and know from whence they came
Two sons from incest’s daughters, they grow within each womb
Had I but known what we’d become, I’d rather known my tomb
For once I sat besides his chair an uncle straight and pure
His eyes so clear, and in his voice I’d heard God’s righteous roar
Took me in, and fed my soul and put me on the path
Too quickly did I part from him, my fortune found His wrath
The gold and silks and Sodom’s lure gave spawn to prideful lust
For treasured place amongst the damned, their favor and their trust
I should have known the lowest job within His righteous camp
Was higher than the King’s gold throne ablaze with evil’s stamp
Sweet baby’s sold into the trade or wed to darkness’ gore
Swaying with the ecstasy of sadists’ rapture lore
They dared not give a stranger, a kindly place to sleep
Rather rob him of his things and beat him in the street
For they would grab and rape his wife if she had caught their eye
The weak and poor they had no place beneath Gomorrah’s sky
That all but wealth and rich had best to stay outside the walls
The tortured cried to heaven, that Hashem might hear their calls
And here I chose to build my place, to dwell upon the edge
And try to keep my soul alive and stay above the dredge
To walk with them in golden robes, and offer daughter’s hands,
In marriages to their men that we might live within their lands
So vain to think that I could live and walk amongst the swine
And not pick up the stench of sin, and loose this soul of mine
Yes, I of all, I should have known, my Uncle taught me well
But blinded by ambitions greed, I rushed, my soul to sell
A wife I found within their ways, her wiles were my delight
Her tender touch and softened words, a lust I could not fight
Each time I’d turn my face to east, she’d pull me back to bed
To lose her and our favored life was all that I could dread
And then one day, I got their vote, and earned a favored place
They made of me a judge and on their coins they stamped my face
I thought I’d made it to the top, and now could change their way
I’d slowly bring them back to God; I thought I’d make them sway
And so that night, that fateful night when sitting by the wall
Those pallid strangers came to me; I thought I heard their call
Come stay within my house I urged them, knowing all to well
That in my friends and countrymen a hate would grow and swell
The masses came outside our door; our neighbors’ made a fuss
“Where are these men you sought to shield?”  You must give them to us
“Turn them out unto our hands; you know we hate the stranger”
“Turn them out or face our wrath, your family’s in danger!”
I thought to offer up my girls, to mitigate their plan
My daughters should have been my prize; they’d not been touched by man
Yet they would be my sacrifice so I could keep my pride
And show the rabble I could be above the low and snide
Yes, I would rather loose my kin than show that I’d back down
That I’d still be a wealthy man, and save my own renown
But lo - those Strangers, stranger still, than ever had a birth
For these were angels of the lord to bring their death to earth
They struck the mob with blindness, and They turned them too and fro
Then pointed to the mountains, and told us we must go
“Take not your wealth, just run yourselves, beware lest you look back!
Salvation has been granted, though your virtue’s surely lack…..
For if you have regrets to leave, and thus have failed to learn
And mourn the folks you leave behind, their fate is yours to earn!”
We ran that night; we ran so hard, the lightening crackled high
And then the shaking earth foretold the city was to die
All we’d known, and all we had, would vanish in a flash
Amidst the justice of the Lord, we heard the mighty crash
Oh wife, my wife, she’d had to leave her riches in her vault
She dared to turn and look behind, and she was turned to salt
And when I gazed into her eyes, I knew that she was gone
And all that we had known and loved, no more to build upon
We’d bought a life, our souls in debt, and now the bill came due
And when I kissed her lifeless lips, I knew that it was through
Her once black eyes went white and glazed, her face reflective pale
And now a statue made of salt, was frozen like the hail
Somehow we fled, I don’t know how, in horror and in grief
All I had was stripped away as if by some great thief
I ran all night, and ne’er looked back, my daughters still in tow
Until collapsing within this cave, our fate we could not know
Dear God, the added agony, I’d lied to both my girls
I’d told – I thought - the end of flesh, was put upon the world
I’d lied that they would flee with me, before the city’s plight
And so they sought to get me drunk and lay with me that night
The poor girls’ wretched misery, they’d thought we were the last
They planned to keep our race alive through incest’s dark repast
And now to see they’re near crazed looks, when from the cave we crept
And found the world of men survived, they tore their hair and wept
Oh keep me drunken, oblivion, my life, there is no life
Had I’d but stayed and died that day along with friends and wife
Let all men read my epitaph, let all men come to quote
That greed and lust and arrogance, had brought the end of Lot **
How we spend our money is usually a pretty good barometer of where our priorities lie. And it applies equally whether it is plentiful or scarce.
After the birth of Isaac, his half-brother Ishmael behaves threateningly towards him and Sarah finds it necessary to ask Abraham to banish Ishmael from the family home. Together with his mother, Hagar, they wander the desert. Soon they run out of water.
And the water in the leather flask was finished and she cast off the boy beneath one of the bushes. (Genesis 21:15)
So let me ask you what would be called a typical klotz kasha, or a seemingly obvious but, nonetheless, stupid question. If the flask is empty, why throw away the child? Throw away the empty flask!
It would appear then that when our food supply is depleted and finance is in short supply, the first ones to suffer may be our children. The bank balance is low? How can we even think of a Jewish Day School education! The tuition fees are so expensive. Instead of denying ourselves creature comforts we deem non-negotiable, we sacrifice our children’s Jewish upbringing in the name of economics.
It’s like the old story of the Jewish mother who came from Eastern Europe to join her son in America and was horrified to see he had shaved of his beard and cast off his yarmulke. “What happened to you, my Yankele?” she asked. “Mama,” he says, “America is not the shtetl.” And when she saw him going to work on Shabbat, again he told her America was different. And when she opened the fridge and discovered all kinds of creepy things she never saw in a Jewish kitchen, again he explained that America was not the same as “back home.” Eventually, when it was all getting too much, she asked him, “Yankele, tell your old mother the truth. Are you still circumcised?”
It’s not only an old shtetl story. It’s happening right now. In my own community of South Africa we know of too many who left these shores to make a better life for their children. But emigrating is expensive and with limited resources one must make choices and prioritize. Many chose to do without Jewish schooling. The rest is history. Bad history. Without a Jewish education young people wander about wondering why they should not be doing what their contemporaries are doing. And the money we saved in school fees is now going to doctors, psychologists, or G-d forbid, drug rehab centers.
Even in Israel, we have to be discriminating when choosing a community. If the other kids on the block are riding their bikes on Yom Kippur, why shouldn’t your child? And if you insist and they feel denied, they may opt out altogether.
Kids need stability and an environment with a healthy value system. No matter how tempting or secure other seemingly greener pastures may be, before making a move we ought to consider the spiritual security system our children will need to survive and thrive—as Jews. Just because the bottle may be empty, don’t throw away the child. **
Rabbi,
I’m a father and I have no idea how to bring up a Jewish boy. All I know is not to do as my father did. Although that’s generally exactly what I end up doing. I want my son to grow up strong in his Jewishness and confident about his own self.
A. Dad
Shalom Dad,
There’s only two short lines you need to know. It’s the first dialog there is between a father and his son in the written Torah:
Then Isaac said to his father, “My father?”
And Abraham said, “Here I am, my son.”
There’s more, but we need to stop here first, so you can see the forest.
We’ve had those words before—only once before—at the beginning of this same tale. Abraham is answering his son with the same words he used earlier to answer G d:
So it was, after all these things, that G d tested Abraham, and He said to him, “Abraham!” And Abraham answered, “Here I am!”
And then G d asks Abraham to do something that goes against every cell of his body and soul: To harden his heart, turn off his mind, take his son and “raise him up for a sacrifice on one of the mountains I will show you..”
Men know the modality. Numbness. “Gotta do what I gotta do.” We do it when we go to war and when we go to work, when we fire an employee and when we discipline a child. There’s a small voice inside, screaming, “This is not who I am! How can I do this?” And we just tell it to shut up so we can get the job done.
We’ve all been there. You’ve got a deadline at work. A major meeting about a big contract. Nudniks to deal with, driving you nuts. Rush hour traffic stuns your nerves. 7:30 AM the next morning, and you don’t want to go. Not a cell in your body wants to go. But you have to.
Okay, it’s not who you are—you’re a family man with family priorities. But to feed a family, a man’s got to make sacrifices. Don’t feel what you feel, don’t think what you think. To do so would be to drive yourself insane. Smother that voice inside. Be a man, as men have been ever since their feet met the cold, hard earth. Just do.
The dad inside gets turned off. And along with him, so do his kids.
“Dad?”
“Dad?”
“I’m busy now.”
“Dad?”
“Sorry, son, I’m busy. Go talk to Mom.”
That’s what this bizarre world can do to a man: On the way to provide for his family, he sacrifices them on their own altar.
So here is Abraham, in the midst of his greatest test. He can only have one focus: To do what he was told. And that’s where he is, 100%. After all, this isn’t just about making a living. This is about hearing G_d’s voice. And so, Isaac calls out to him, not certain that his father is really there.
“My father?”
“Here I am, my son. All of me. For all of you What’s up?”
Perhaps that was the whole test. Perhaps with that alone, Abraham proved that he was fit to be the father of the nation that would bring G d’s compassion into the world.
Perhaps. But this I know for certain: With those words, Abraham passed on the torch to the next generation. Because when Isaac saw that his father was all there for him, in the same way and to the same degree as he was there for G_d when G_d spoke to him, then he was ready to be all there for his father and for his father’s G_d.
Those words are all you need to know to be a real Jewish dad. The rest will follow.
“Here I am, my son. All of me.” **
told we should “live with the times” and find how our lives are connected to the Torah portion (parshah) of the week. That only when we see ourselves in the Torah can we say we’ve truly learned.
I read the parshah and I learn of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. I learn of how Lot is saved and how his wife is turned into a pillar of salt. And I search to see my life in these words. I’d rather not see it, of course, as the connection is too intense, too real, too true. I’d rather pretend that this is merely a story, a lesson about universal evil needing to be removed. How do I relate to a pillar of salt? And yet I do—all too much.
So this is the story. An evil community is destined to be destroyed. It is to be totally annihilated and Abraham is foretold of the destruction. He argues with G-d, begging him not to destroy the land and those who inhabit it. He begs that the people be spared in the merit of fifty righteous people. Yet he cannot find fifty. He tries to find forty-five. Forty. Thirty. Twenty. Ten. Still he cannot. The city is utterly evil, and it is to be destroyed. Only Lot and his family will be saved. There is one condition. Don’t look back. But the temptation is too great. And Lot’s wife looks. And she is turned into a pillar of salt.
So I too am often that pillar of salt. Stuck and hardened between where I never should have been and where I need to go. If only I could have the strength to let go. I try to reason, to rationalize why certain things are good for me. And even if they aren’t good for me, they are good for someone, right? At least one person, right? Wrong. There is no good there. There is nothing to be redeemed. It must be destroyed. The relationship cannot exist. The only thing that can be saved is me. And only if I leave and don’t look back. Never look back.
Yet I can’t help it. I take the first step away. I leave where I never should have been towards where I must go. If only I can make it there and leave this behind. Truly leave behind me what aims to bring me down and destroy me with it. If I can keep going it will be gone forever. If I can let go, it will lose its power to hurt me. And yet, time and time again, I look back. And I am once again as frozen as that pillar of salt.