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The Real Sin of Sodom and Gemorrah

There are many passages in the Torah which have been misinterpreted in order to pervert God's word.

This week's Parashah is one in particular.

Eleven years ago, an event was planned in Jerusalem, which stressed a city already divided along secular and religious lines.

In advance of Jerusalem's gay pride parade scheduled that year for November 10, members of the ultra-Orthodox community took to the streets, pelting police with rocks, bottles, wood and metal.

Posters lined certain heavily observant neighborhoods promising financial rewards to anyone who killed a "sodomite" participating in the parade. Curses were proclaimed against the marchers and the police who protected them. Street clashes became so violent that religious leaders arrived on the scene and ordered the crowds to disburse.

And for once, zealots from the Jewish, Christian and Muslim communities agreed on something.  The religious press representing factions of these religions predicted disastrous consequences for Jerusalem if authorities gave in to "the corruptions of Sodom and Gomorrah."

It was a shocking display of the narrow mindedness which continues to permeate the dark corners of too many religions.

All this based on a misinterpretation of a Biblical story which we will read this Shabbat in synagogue. In this week's Parashah, the Torah recounts an incident involving two angels who arrive in the Biblical city of Sodom.

The dying cries of a woman tortured by her community for assisting a beggar have reached heaven.  God sends angels to investigate.

Lot, the patriarch of Sodom's only decent family, welcomes the angelic guests into his house, but soon word of their arrival spreads. 

That evening, residents gather at Lot's door demanding that the guests be sent out.  The townsfolk declare their intentions to sexually assault the visitors, punishing them for entering the closed community.  It is from here that the town of Sodom receives its sexual moniker.

Yet according to our tradition, it was not the threatened sexual assault, which enraged God enough to eventually destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. Rather, it was a communal sin, which so many are guilty of to this day.

In later years, the incident is referenced by the prophet Ezekiel who states,"Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy." (Ezekiel 16:49)

Our tradition tells us that Sodom was a wealthy community, blessed with rich deposits of gold, silver and jewels.  The Midrash, our collection of Biblical accounts and legends, records that Sodom's streets were lined with seven rows of fruit frees.

And this inspired town residents to ensure that no one encroached on their wealth.  The Midrash records that even money paid to workers was marked and tracked helping to enforce a law forbidding the sale of bread to the needy.

The Midrash describes a Sodomite as someone who declares, "What's mine is mine and what's yours is yours."

While our tradition expresses disgust over the use of sexuality as a tool to dominate, humiliate and control others, what enraged God, according to both our scriptures and our oral tradition, is the fact that residents of that gated community refused to share their good fortune, effectively zoning out poverty.

Outsiders were required to leave the town at night and sleep outside its walls.

This runs in direct contradiction to the Torah which reminds us at least thirty six times, to be kind to the stranger, the widow and the orphan. 

So let me ask you, what was the real sin of Sodom?  Was it the threat of sexual assault which in the end was never carried out -- or the attempt by those in the community to establish a safe and exclusive community for themselves and no one else?

In many ways, this week's Torah portions calls upon each of us to evaluate the comfort of our own lives.  Holidays such as Succoth reminds us of how fortunate we are to live in North America, where we benefit from an abundance of food, comfortable shelter and a functioning social network.

But are we doing enough? It is often so easy to close our hearts to the needy, as we frequently rationalize our reluctance to assist.

Indeed, the extent of our support to those in need is a personal matter.  Yet, often, a Biblical story emerges which inspires us to take inventory.  

This week, within the rabbinical interpretation of the Torah portion involving Sodom and surrounding communities, our tradition warns us against creating gated communities - whether they be physical or spiritual.

As Rabbi Steven Greenberg wrote in reflecting upon the events preceding the proposed 2006 parade, "What brought down the wrath of God upon Sodom was not homosexuality, but inhospitality and cruelty, arrogance and greed, callousness, fear of loss, and ultimately, violence against the stranger."

How ironic that the very tradition which teaches us to be inclusive was used as a weapon against those celebrating their identities, and God's loving spark which glows within each of us.

Indeed, the real sin of the 2006 protests was the use of the Torah as a weapon against members of the LGBTQ community. For centuries, other religions have done the same.

Indeed, the holy Torah should never be used to hurt or abuse others -- for there too much love within the lessons contained within.

Rather, as the Talmud teaches, the Torah "begins with kindness and ends with kindness." 

Ever more the reason to reflect upon this week's Torah portion, as we consider whether we and our sacred communities are open, inclusive and giving enough.

Are we building walls, or tearing them down?

Most importantly, are we as kind as we can be?

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv (all good things)

Rabbi Irwin Huberman