Parashat Vayera – from Sarah to Maacah, who are the women behind the famous stories?

The women in Sidra Vayera cry out to be noticed.   We begin with Sarah, inside the tent while her husband sits in the doorway and looks outwards. One of the travelling angels asks the question ו אַיֵּה שָׂרָה אִשְׁתֶּךָ  “Where is Sarah your wife?”, and when told she is in the tent makes the prophecy of the child who will be born to them. Where is Sarah? Just like her husband was described at the beginning of the sidra she too is now at the opening of the tent “פֶּתַח הָאֹהֶל”.   Abraham looks up and sees, Sarah hides behind the flap of the doorway and hears.

And what is recorded?  The view of Abraham who sees men where there are angels;  and the speech with its promise to Sarah, followed by her laughter at the news.

But then who does God respond to?  To Abraham. With a question about the motivation of Sarah.

God asks Abraham  ““Why did Sarah laugh, saying, ‘”  I will return to you at the same season next year, and Sarah shall have a son.” –  the child of the promise to Abraham is specifically the son of Sarah.

Sarah evidently hears, because she is frightened, and she lies to cover herself-  “I didn’t laugh!” only to get the direct reply to her from the divine messenger – “No, you laughed!”

Then follows the famous discussion between God and Abraham about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, after which we have an echo of the meeting of the messengers of God with Abraham at the beginning of the Sidra, when now his nephew Lot urges them to take up his hospitality, makes a feast for them gives them a place to rest.

Lot has two unmarried daughters still living in the family home, as well as his wife.  Unlike the story at the beginning  of the sidra, these woman are nowhere to be seen or heard.  When the inhabitants of the city mob the house and demand the foreign guests be given up to them to be raped, Lot does something I have never been able to make sense of. Yes, hospitality and looking after guests’ wellbeing is exceedingly important in the inhospitable environment of the desert regions, but protection of the guests cannot justify Lot’s proposal to the Sodomites.

Look, I have two daughters who have not known a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you may do to them as you please; but do not do anything to the others, since they have come under the shelter of my roof.”  (19:8)

Clearly, the divine messengers are also not happy with this solution. They pull Lot into the house and then send out a bright light that blinds the mob outside.  And they tell him:

“Whom else have you here? In-laws, your sons and daughters [themselves]—anyone else that you have in the city—bring them out of the place. For we are about to destroy this place; because the outcry against them before GOD has become so great that GOD has sent us to destroy it.”

Lot goes to the households of his married daughters, but speaks only to the sons-in-law who thought he was playing games with them, or possibly he was drunk. And so, they ignored him. One has to wonder what might have happened had he spoken to his daughters.   And there is no record of him speaking to either his wife or his daughters in his own home.

The angels urge Lot to flee the city, but he prevaricates and delays, to the point where the angels take his hand and also the hands of his wife and daughters, taking them outside the city walls. What must his wife and daughters think? These strange men urging them, with physical force, taking them out of their home and out of the city?

The angels leave Lot and his household outside the city walls and tell Lot he must flee to the distant hills to save his life – the language is in the singular, it is Lot they are talking to, not the group. They tell him not to look back,  not to stop anywhere, lest he be swept away. Lot chooses this moment to negotiate – asking if he can instead flee to a nearby small town because he fears he will not reach the hills before the calamity would overtake him, and the angels graciously agree. He can go to the small town (Zoar) and it will be spared.  The focus in the narrative is entirely on Lot, on saving his life, not that of the family. So it is probably not surprising that Lot’s wife has not heard the instruction not to look back. Sulphurous fire rains down on the cities of the plain, Lot’s wife looks from behind him – an echo of Sarah hidden behind the tent doorway flap behind the messenger – she looks and understands what is happening to the place where she has left her married children and their families – and  וַתַּבֵּט אִשְׁתּוֹ מֵאַחֲרָיו וַתְּהִי נְצִיב מֶלַח  -we usually read this as she looked behind her and was turned into a standing pillar of salt.  But the verb v’tabeit is a hiphil form – she did not merely glance back at the destruction while running.  Instead the verb insists that she paid attention to what she was seeing – she considered carefully what she saw– a process that takes time and intention. And then she was not turned into something, she became something – a netziv melach. A standing object that was salty – could it be her tears as she stood and watched and understood the enormity of the destruction?  Could she have been transfixed in her grief and her horror, unable to move from her place. Whatever happened – she is no longer a character in the narrative.

Lot and his two daughters very quickly leave Zoar, afraid for their lives. After all they are strangers, and we know what can happen to strangers in these terrible cities of the plain.

There follows the only story entirely directed by women – the two daughters, believing themselves to have witnessed the end of the world, decide to get their father drunk, to procreate with him, and so to continue life in the world. One has to wonder about the inhabitants of Zoar, a city which was protected from the great calamity – but maybe Lot ensured that his daughters were not seen while they were there, and in turn they did not see that other people lived.

The decision of Lot’s daughters has far reaching consequences – this is the origin story of the Moabites (Mei-Av, from my father) and the Ammonites (ben Ammi, son of my people), two tribes who will forever be the enemies of Israelite people.

And now, again, we have a version of the wife-sister story – but this time Sarah does not speak at all, though later Abimelech defends himself by saying not only that Abraham has told him that she is his sister, but that Sarah had agreed that Abraham was her brother.   God intervenes in a dream to tell him that she is in fact a married woman and therefore forbidden to him. She is וְהִוא בְּעֻלַת בָּעַל׃ the property of her master, she is אֵשֶׁת־הָאִישׁ   the man’s wife.   Abraham claims that Sarah is indeed his sister, through another mother, and Abimelech seems to accept this when he tells Sarah he will give a thousand pieces of silver to “her brother”. 

And now the focus changes again. Sarah does indeed bear a child, whom Abraham names Isaac – meaning “he will laugh”.  Sarah contextualises the name by saying – “God has brought me laughter; everyone who hears will laugh for me.”

But at his weaning feast Sarah notices the son of Hagar the concubine – Ishmael – מְצַחֵק. It could mean laughing with Isaac, but it could mean making sport of him, toying with him, mocking him…. Whatever Ishmael is doing, Sarah will not allow him near her boy and demands that Abraham send Ishmael and Hagar away. Abraham is distressed, but God reassures him, telling him both that “whatever Sarah tells you, do as she says, for it is through Isaac that offspring shall be continued for you.” And that “As for the son of the slave-woman, I will make a nation of him, too, for he is your seed.”

Hagar and Ishmael are sent away into the desert with food and water, but when the water runs out Hagar put her child under a bush and moved away some distance, unable to bear the sight of her child’s death.  The text tells us that Hagar cries bitterly, but that God hears the voice of the boy. To make the point it repeats it. That God hears the cry of the boy, and then Hagar is told that God hears the cry of the boy.  The voice of Hagar is evidently unheard.  Ishmael and Hagar survive, he grows up to be a skilled hunter, and his mother gets him a wife from Egypt – from her own people.

After another encounter with Abimelech, the sedra ends with the story of the Akedah. Sarah has quite vanished from the narrative, instead we hear that Abraham’s brother Nahor has eight sons from his wife Milcah, one of whom, Betuel, will become the father of Rebecca, and that his concubine Reumah, has borne him three sons and a daughter, whose name is Maacah.

So we end with the birth of a daughter and many sons to Abraham’s brother. Who is Maacah? It is hard to say, the name appears in bible at least nine times, belonging to nine different people. But maybe we should just note that this daughter, the child of a concubine rather than a wife, who is the first bearer of the name, exists. All the more so since the verbal root from which the name is derived means “crushed” or “oppressed”

A fitting end to a sidra where many women are crushed or oppressed, where their voices are rarely heard, and where their bodies are offered by their own male relatives to other men, in order to smooth their path.

Maybe the text is trying to tell us something  – that it notices all these women, that it hears and sees them, and that their attempts to be heard, their feelings and their very existence, will not be lost for those who look for them.

Lot: a cautionary tale of superficial success and the victimisation of the powerless

Lot, the nephew and heir apparent of Abraham is a man with barely any redeeming features in the biblical account. We meet him first in the genealogies following the flood, when we are told that “Terach begot Avram, Nahor and Haran, and Haran begot Lot, and Haran died in the presence of his father Terach in the land of his birth, in Ur of the Chaldees.” The fatherless boy is taken into the household of his grandfather, and Terach, Avram and Lot leave Ur to go to Canaan, but settle in Haran, where Terach dies. God speaks to Avram, and he moves on towards Canaan, taking Lot with him. Famine drives them to Egypt where Avram claims that Sarah is not his wife but his sister, and while this saves his life it also puts Sarah into Pharaoh’s harem – until God intervenes and together they all leave Egypt much richer than they had arrived.

The land could not support the flocks and herds of both Avraham and Lot; there is fighting between the herdsmen of the two men, and Abraham suggests that they part company and go in separate directions.  Lot journeys east towards the cities of the plain, Avraham goes to Canaan and again he is promised all the land as far as he can see, to be the eternal possession of his – so far non-existent – descendants.

We hear no more of Lot for a while, instead we witness the births of first Ishmael and then Isaac, and it becomes clear that Lot is no longer the heir apparent – the two households have separated permanently, whatever might have been is no longer a thread in the narrative.

And then comes the cataclysm at Sodom, and Lot’s family are back, centre stage, as we watch with horror the different tragedies unfold.

We get a good, close look at Lot, and we learn too about his family. It is not a pretty sight.

To begin with he parallels his uncle Abraham’s hospitable behaviour. The two messengers of God arrive at Sodom in the evening, and come across Lot sitting at the city gate. It is a significant time as the night is coming, and a significant place in the city where all the communal activity is centred. The implication is that Lot, whose youth was rootless and dependent, is well integrated into the city, either doing business or demonstrating his status in some other way.

Lot is keen to offer his home hospitality and we soon find out why – a mob surrounds his house apparently demanding he hand over his guests for the sexual pleasure of the crowd. Lot goes out not to send the people away but to suggest a compromise – he will not hand over the men who were guests under his roof and his protection, instead he will hand over his two virgin daughters for the use of the crowd. It is at this point the modern reader despairs. While apparently taking his hospitality duties seriously, Lot is prepared to sacrifice his daughters to the baying crowd. We can only wonder what he learned from the actions of Avram who called Sarah his sister rather than his wife and allowed her to be taken into the pharaoh’s harem in order to protect his own life.

The visitors reach out to Lot, bring him back into the house, and smite the crowd outside with blindness so that they are comically unable to find the doorway, though they kept on trying. Lot is told to find his family and take them out of the city which God will destroy. Lot goes to speak to his sons in law, but they do not take him seriously. He makes no attempt to talk to his daughters.  As dawn rises the angels urge him to go with his wife and two unmarried daughters but inexplicably he lingers, and a merciful God transports them out of the city almost magically, warning him to head for the mountains and not to look back, but Lot prevaricates, saying the mountains are too far away, asking if he can survive in a nearby city, Zoar, and God agrees to protect that city from the coming catastrophe.

The fire and brimstone comes, the cities of Sodom and Gemorah are destroyed, Lot’s wife looks back and is turned into a pillar of salt, but through the merit of Abraham Lot is saved. He and his daughters are afraid to stay in Zoar, so they leave and go to live in the mountains, where his daughters conclude that no one else is left alive and so they make a plan to sleep with him in order to ‘preserve his seed’. Having got him drunk, first the elder and then the younger daughter sleep with Lot in order to become pregnant by him, and thus bible tells us of the origins of two important – and inimical – peoples, the Moabites and the Ammonites.

Lot comes over as a man who has been given wealth and status but who below that surface is a weak and selfish buffoon, a man of straw. He is interesting to the narrative only through his relationship with his uncle Abraham, a branch of the family tree that might have been important but which now is irrelevant. He is the father of four daughters, none of whom he thought to protect. His  wife deserves our pity – unnamed, unspoken to, she is referred to only in relation to leaving the cataclysm, she isn’t given the message not to look behind them and so she does, with fatal consequences, though I can’t help feeling that there may have been some relief in no longer having to hitch her life to his.

She is a “Netziv melech” a standing monument made out of an easily eroded material. Salt represents value and wealth, it is used to preserve food, it has medicinal qualities, the beautiful crystals reflect light, it speaks to us of the sea and of tears. Salt is the symbol of the covenant (see Lev 2:13, according to Talmud salt from Sodom was burned in temple ritual (Ker 6a) and it is present to this day on the Kiddush table alongside the challah as an echo of that ritual. Lot’s wife escapes the fate of the rest of her family, she is preserved at one with her environment before the descent into degradation that follows.

The younger daughters of Lot do not escape. Bereft of their mother and older sisters, left alone in the mountains with the weak old man who is their father, fearing the world has ended – theirs is a sorry plight.  They have grown up in an emotionally abusive family; their father cared for the superficial success he could enjoy living in his adopted city, working out his own damage of three times losing his own father figures, he did not himself seem to know how to be a good husband or father. He had already offered these daughters for rape by the baying crowd seemingly in the bizarre belief that this was the action of a good host. He must have known the nature of the city he had chosen to make his home and the home of his daughters. His sons in law clearly had no respect for him, he was a weak and laughable figure to them. In a patriarchal world, Lot was no alpha male. Even his name, meaning ‘tightly wrapped’ or ‘covered’, seems to describe a man who draws his blanket around him and hides inside.

With such a father what chance do the girls have?  Yet they seem determined that he will have descendants. Is this a case of Stockholm syndrome whereby the captive will do anything to support and empathise with their captor? Are they actually fearing more for themselves than for their father, whom they describe as old – possibly near to death – and they may be left without any male relative to support and defend them? Will a son born from incest be better than no man at all? Have they believed the story of his superficial success, and refused to look deeper? It is interesting that his wife actually looks mei’acharav – from behind/after him rather than behind her – she is not looking at the city she is fleeing, but instead maybe she is really seeing who her companion in the escape really is and crystallising in horror about both the past and the future, fixing in an eternal present.

The daughters of Lot had not known any man. Their choice to get their father drunk in order to sleep with them is curious – did they think he would refuse them? Did they think he would be easier to control if he was so stupefied he would remember nothing about what happened?  Is it believable that they would choose the actions described in bible, or is it possible that bible is subtly shifting responsibility, making what can only be described as incestuous rape the fault of the young women involved, rather than the responsibility of Lot himself? We already know that he was ready to hand them over for rape in Sodom, have they internalised their use as sexual objects of no real value otherwise? And is there an ambiguity in the statement that “there is not a man in the earth to come in unto us after the manner of all the earth”? The daughters must surely have seen that Zoar was not destroyed, they must have been able to realise that not everyone had died. Are they saying that they are tainted already simply by their relationship to their father. That no man would want them, coming as they do from a city so wicked and a family so weak? Given that they would be unmarriageable in their society, might they at least preserve some kind of descendant who might even remedy their faultlines in some way? Why the use of the word ‘seed’ rather than children? Is this an early intimation of the messianic line which will eventually derive from Ruth the Moabite woman?

The problem with Lot – damaged from childhood, whose name implies that he is tightly wrapped up and thus insensible to the realities of the outside world, who argues over money with his patron and uncle Abraham, who chooses to live among wicked people and be honoured in their society, who does not value his wife or children – the problem with Lot is he is, from the point of view of the bible, family. Somehow the narrative shifts the blame from him again and again, because of the merit of Abraham. He is the progenitor of two of the tribes most hostile to the Israelites, the incest resonant in their names – Moav (from my father) ben Ammi (son of my people). He has distorted the narrative horribly. But bible and midrash choose instead to focus on the faults of his wife who, all unknowing, looks backwards (and midrash ascribes a whole series of unpleasant attributes to her in order to explain her punishment), and to ascribe to his young daughters the rapists charge that they were complicit, that they wanted it, that the drink removes all culpability. It is almost as though the text continues to abuse the daughters, to blame them, to disappear them into only being the objects of sexual exploitation.

There is no more mention of Lot after this episode. He disappears into history drunk, insensible, incestuous, irrelevant. There is no more mention of his daughters – they have served their purpose and they were always irrelevant from the point of view of the narrative.

The individuals have gone, but the systemic abuse goes on. Weak men who crave status and who use their families to win what they want. Superficial signs of wealth with no respect underlying it. Blaming the victims rather than challenging the abusers. Narratives that shift blame, horror hiding in plain sight, the emergence of different groups determined to assert themselves against others.

Lot is the ultimate cautionary tale – of what we could become if we don’t pay attention, if we don’t try to follow the path of Abraham, if we don’t challenge what we see is wrong. And if we allow Lot to sit in the gates, to achieve status in our society, then we risk being his victims, just as surely as his wife and daughters were.