Minyan of Resistance
Sometimes the Torah is so "on point" that it's almost scary. This week, in Parashat Vayera, we encounter the story of the city of Sodom. I invite you to read the whole text if you like (Genesis 18:16-19:29), with all of its sordid twists and turns, or here's a quick synopsis of the most relevant bits:
God tells Abraham, "The outrage of Sodom and Gomorrah are so great, and their sin so grave!," and then sends two angels/messengers to investigate further. As these angels proceed on towards Sodom, Abraham understands that the city's future is at stake, and argues with God that Sodom should not be destroyed if enough innocent people can be found in it to make it worth saving. Abraham starts his bargaining at 50, then moves to 45, 40 and so on...until God agrees to save Sodom if as few as 10 righteous people can be found.
But then, the angelic guests arrive in Sodom and take refuge for the night in the house of Lot, Abraham's nephew. A mob amasses outside Lot's door, demanding that he send the guests out into the streets so that the mob can have their way with them. When Lot refuses and tries to protect his guests, the throng threatens to deal even more harshly with him, and they press harder against his door. With the support of a minor miracle (a blinding light that confounds the mob), Lot and his guests are able to survive until dawn, at which point the angels help to spring Lot and his family free from the city.
Even taken at face value, the Torah's tale of Sodom portrays a radically inhospitable and violent society. As if the biblical story itself isn't bad enough, though, the rabbinic tradition piles it on, building on the portrayal of Sodom as the least hospitable, least generous, most rotten, and most corrupt society imaginable!
Pirke DeRabbi Eliezer is one midrashic collection where this kind of extrapolation happens; it retells and expands upon the biblical narrative, from the beginning of Genesis through the middle of the Book of Numbers. Most scholars date this work to sometime around the 8th Century, in the Geonic period. Nearly an entire chapter of the collection depicts a group of rabbis sitting around and telling one another tales about the horrors of life in Sodom. Again, you're welcome to explore this text directly -- see Pirke DeRabbi Eliezer 25 -- but here are some key examples from it:
Rabbi Ze'era describes Sodom as an area unusually rich with natural resources: gold, silver, precious stones, pearls, sapphire. However, he says, the people of the city hoard that wealth. The punchline of his story is: "But they did not trust in the shadow of their Creator, rather (they trusted) in the multitude of their wealth, for wealth thrusts aside its owners from the fear of Heaven, as it is said, 'They that trust in their wealth' (Ps. 49:6)."
Rabbi Natan recounts that the people of Sodom dishonored the Creator by not distributing food to the wayfarer and the stranger, as Jewish law prescribes. To top it off, "they (even) fenced in all the trees on top above their fruit so that they should not be seized; (not) even by the bird of heaven."
Rabbi Joshua, son of Ḳorchah, says: "They appointed over themselves judges who were lying judges, and they oppressed every wayfarer and stranger who entered Sodom by their perverse judgment, and they sent them forth naked, as it is said, 'They have oppressed the stranger without judgment' (Ezek. 22:29)."
Rabbi Yehudah tells what I think is perhaps the most incriminating story of all: that the city even outlawed assisting the needy or feeding the poor. Peletith, Lot's daughter, was compassionate and would secretly sneak bread into her empty water pitcher to carry it out to a poor man in the street. When the men of Sodom realized that she was feeding the man, in violation of the law, they brought her forth to be burnt with fire. As she was being tortured to death, her cries reached the heavens, prompting God's investigation and the angels' visit.
These rabbinic midrashim come in quick succession, one after another, and each adds a new dimension to our understanding of Sodom's wickedness and cruelty. While these are far from the only midrashim about the depravity of Sodom, even just in these few texts, we see the hoarding of wealth, the stinginess and ungenerous spirit of the city's residents, their willingness to follow unethical rules even in defiance of God's commandments, the corruption of lying judges, and brutal heartlessness towards the stranger and traveler. Sodom has so descended into darkness that it sentences to death the only human who acts with compassion and decency. Together, these stories paint a scathing picture of a society characterized by a degree of inhumanity and cruelty that knows no bounds!
I'm guessing it's abundantly clear why these rabbinic stories about Sodom are resonating for me at this particular time. In a different moment, I might have read these texts as cartoonishly awful depictions but merely a fictitious fever-dream; however, this week, they feel horrifyingly real: both prescient and possible in our day.
The truth is that none of us knows what will happen next, or exactly what we have in store for us here in the United States in the months and years to come. If Trump's campaign speeches are to be taken seriously, though, and if the first wave of political appointments we've seen over the past week are an indicator of where things are headed, it is not at all silly for us to be shocked, dismayed, disgusted, angry and/or fearful. The last thing we want is for the rabbinic vision of Sodom to come to life in modern-day America!
Returning to the end of this story in Parashat Vayera, Sodom ends up destroyed because -- despite all of Abraham's best efforts to save it -- in the end, not even a minyan of righteous people could be found within its limits. God rains down sulfurous fire on both Sodom and the neighboring city of Gomorrah, completely annihilating both cities and all of their inhabitants (see Gen. 19:23-25). Sodom is so "toxic" that even in its ruined state, Lot's wife can't turn back to gaze upon it without turning into a pillar of salt herself.
Here in our society, it feels like things are moving fast, on many fronts at once, and towards some of the same types of corruption, inhumanity, and cruelty we see in these tales of Sodom. Here, however, we don't yet know how this story will end; here we have a choice. The story of Sodom is, of course, a cautionary tale, but it is not only this; it is also a story of positive promise: that even in the most awful of times and places, all it takes is a minyan, a group of 10 righteous people, willing to stand together in defiance of societal norms in order to change the story.
This week, as we read Parashat Vayera, let's take the story of Sodom to heart, and steel ourselves for some difficult days ahead. If our society becomes inhospitable to the stranger and the poor, let us resolve that we will maintain a posture of generosity and compassion. If our justice system becomes corrupt, and rife with bribery or lies, let us resolve that we will raise our voices for truth and fairness. If laws are made that are grounded in heartlessness and evil, we may even need to act in defiance of unjust laws to do what we know in our hearts to be right.
Had there been but ten righteous people in Sodom, Abraham and God both agree, the city would have been worth saving. In the face of whatever is to come here, let us pledge that we will stand together in that minyan. Together, we have the power to defy a society careening out of control, and to write a different ending to our story.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
