Lot the Ruthless?

Abraham was a great man. He not only spoke with God, but even at one point argued with him. He was both a successful warrior and a flexible peacemaker. He fathered many children with three different partners. He was a prosperous business owner, but also – as the Talmud says – knew that wealth includes being happy with your lot.

Abraham was not a perfect man. At times he was unduly suspicious and evasive. He did not look after Ishmael when Sarah exiled him. He did not ask enough questions when God ordered him to sacrifice his son. This week and next, however, I want to discuss some of the characters who lived in the wake of the great man: Lot and Isaac. The latter, I think, is greatly underestimated. I say that as someone who used to underestimate Isaac.

In the meantime, Lot, whose tale unfolds in this week’s Torah reading, Parshat Vayera (Genesis 18:1–22:24). Yes, Abraham was happy with his lot and died contented. But he was not happy with his nephew Lot. His nephew is the subject of many words in the usually spare story of Genesis. But that does not make him admirable. When Abraham and Lot have a dispute over grazing territory (Genesis 13:5–9), Lot does not defer to Abraham’s choice. Rather he makes his own. When faced with an angry mob of sexual predators who wish to violate his houseguests (Genesis 19:4–11), Lot offers up his own daughters as a substitute. Rather than being willing to lech lecha from Sodom and Gomorrah at God’s request (Genesis 19:12–22), he asks if he can go a little way away from Sodom and Gomorrah, but not a lot. He has sex with his daughters (Genesis 19:30–38). The first time maybe he was drunk out of his mind, but the second time?

Names are important in the Genesis story. Abraham earns an extra syllable in his name. God had promised him, after all, that he would make his name great (Genesis 12:2). But Lot? Starts off with one syllable. Ends up with one syllable. The Genesis story does not even bother to tell us the origin of his name. Did it mean something like hidden? Or did it mean the spice myrrh? We do not know. But if we play with his name in English, we get a sense of him. He preferred to take the choice lot of land, rather than ask Abraham, his elder, to make the choice.

Lot sounds like loot as in material greed. Given a choice, Lot preferred to take spacious lands in a land filled with evil people (Genesis 13:10–13). Lot also sounds like lout. There are lots of phrases in English that begin with “that’s a lotta…” and most of them end up being negative.

I do not think there is much redemptive in Lot’s own story. About the only thing I can think of on his side is that he left Haran with his uncle Abraham towards the promised land (Genesis 12:4–5). Yet, but we are not informed by the Bible what Lot went along for the ride. Maybe he recognizes his Uncle Abraham’s dynamism and with it, the potential for material success?

Abraham took the trouble to fight a battle to rescue Lot from hostage (Genesis 14:1–16). That does not necessarily mean Abraham saw much good in Lot. Abraham is portrayed throughout his story as loyal to his kind – with the agonizing possible exception of going up a mountain, at God’s command, with the possible intention of going through with a child sacrifice (Genesis 22:1–19)?

God also chose to save Lot from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 19:15–29). Did God see some good in him? Or was God merely merciful to Lot out of respect for his uncle Abraham?

You can argue that some of Lot’s worst characteristics were extreme versions of Abraham’s fault. Abraham put Sarah in jeopardy by his “wife is my sister” story (Genesis 12:10–20; 20:1–18). Perhaps Abraham did not argue enough with God about sacrificing Isaac (Genesis 22:1–19). Either way, Lot did worse by offering up his daughters to a rape gang at his door. Lot was trying to appease a violent mob, rather than responding to a direct command from the Creator.

In any event, the fact that some of Lot’s failings can be seen to some degree in Abraham does not make Lot any good in himself.

One of the wondrous things about the Jewish tradition is that we have all been reading the same stories for millennia. When we puzzle about a character, we can consult with our ancestors as well as our contemporaries.

I am indebted to a YouTube video by Rabbi Mendel Kaplan, Is the Biblical Lot a Jewish Hero? – Chabad.org. Kaplan argues that Lot, while a bad actor, had some spark of goodness in him, which manifested generations later when a famous descendant reconnected with the Israelite people.

I do not draw the same conclusions that he does about Lot, but Rabbi Kaplan points out many important connections. Lot, through his daughters, is the founder of nations. In his case, Moab and Ammon (Genesis 19:36–38). Moab was often an enemy of Israel. Many generations later, however, Ruth was born into the Moabite nation. Yet when Ruth the Moabite was widowed, she stayed with her Israelite mother-in-law Naomi (Ruth 1:1–18). She joined the people of Israel. She was a direct ancestor of King David (Ruth 4:13–22). Ruth was not ordered to redeem Moab or her ancestor Lot. She was not commanded to join Israel. Her mother-in-law urged her to rejoin her original kinfolk.

But Ruth made a choice, after the loss of her husband.

Ruth, the descendant of Lot, Ruth the ancestor of David.

Ruth had many ancestors besides Lot. It is hard to attribute her joining the Israelites in their belief and destiny to a spark she inherited from Lot in particular. Why Lot rather than all her other ancestors? And why Lot who chose to separate from Abraham, who chose to move to a land that appeared fertile, but was already known to be inhabited by wicked people (Genesis 13:10–13)?

Notice how the Bible stories of Lot and Ruth sound out a counterpoint to each other across scrolls of the Torah, across many generations of recounted time.

Lot chose to leave Abraham’s group, chose to move into the land of Sodom and Gomorrah. Ruth chose to leave the Moabites and go with the people of Israel, to make their God her God (Ruth 1:16).

The literary figure of the chiasmus appears yet again; a series of events flows in one direction, then reverse. Lot leaves family of Abraham and his land, leaves Abraham’s covenantal land and its people, and is a founder of the Moabites. Ruth the Moabite returns to Abraham’s covenantal land and its people. Lot leaves the protection of his elder relative Abraham, who once rescued him from his hostage takers (Genesis 14:1–16); Ruth returns and is brought under the protection of her elder relative Boaz (Ruth 2:1–3:18).

We do not necessarily have to believe, in agreement with Rabbi Mendel Kaplan, that Lot had a spark of goodness in him, and that that goodness ignited in Ruth.

But we can say that for all of his weaknesses, generations later, one of his descendants of Lot would do great deeds.

A story is never over. In every generation, we have an opportunity to add a chapter. It can put the earlier chapters in a new light. And it can inspire the chapters that follow. As individuals, as members of our local Jewish communities, as a people, we have had to deal with Lots within our ranks, Lots outside of them, Lots inside our own character. We are not frozen by our past, collective or individual. We are not incapable of change in our own self. We can make choices about the chapter we add to a story that includes Lot. The fresh choices we make, here and now, can change the way we look at the past, can change the way others will experience the future.