SALT - 11 Cheshvan 5778 - October 31, 2017

            Among the stories told in Parashat Vayera is the disturbing incident that took place after Lot welcomed two strangers – who were actually angels – into his home in the wicked city of Sedom.  The townspeople gathered around Lot’s house and demanded that he hand over the strangers, the hosting of whom, apparently, was in violation of Sedom’s strict ban on hospitality.  Lot set out to protect his guests, and insisted on being allowed to host them safely in his home.  Astonishingly, he went so far as to offer the townspeople his two daughters for prostitution in place of the guests: “Look here – I have two daughters who had never been intimate with a man; I will bring them out to you so you can do with them whatever you like, but do not do anything to these men, once they have entered the shade of my walls” (19:8).

 

            The Midrash (Tanchuma, Vayera 12) sharply condemns Lot for making such an offer, commenting “Ordinarily, a person surrenders himself to be killed for the sake of his daughters and wife, and either kills or is killed, but this person [Lot] surrendered his daughters to be defiled.”

 

            We might wonder for what purpose the Midrash made this remark.  Is it not obvious that Lot’s offer was condemnable?  Do we need our Sages to note the shocking perversion of Lot’s preparedness to surrender his daughters for prostitution? 

 

            Possibly, Chazal seek here to draw our attention to the more common manifestations of Lot’s perverse offer to the people of Sedom.  Lot’s offer perhaps represents, in the extreme, the all-too-common phenomenon of people sacrificing their family’s needs in the pursuit of lofty, altruistic goals.  Certainly, Lot’s desire to care for the strangers to whom he had offered lodging was admirable, but he was wrong for going so far as to sacrifice his daughters’ dignity and innocence for this purpose.  We, too, are warned not to allow idealism to cause us to neglect our most basic obligations, specifically, our responsibilities to our families.  The Midrash here reminds us that our greatest sense of obligation and our greatest levels of self-sacrifice should be reserved for our families, and not for anybody else or any other goal.  While we are encouraged to live and be driven by high ambitions and aspirations, these must never come at the expense of those who are closest to us and who rely upon and deserve our care more than anybody else in the world.