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The Cave After Sedom

by Ram ben Ze'ev


Marc Chagall painted the original gouache/oil painting Lot's Daughters (also known as Loth et ses filles) around 1931 in France
Marc Chagall painted the original gouache/oil painting Lot's Daughters (also known as Loth et ses filles) around 1931 in France

The account in בראשית (Bereshit) 19:26–38 is not written to shock us. It is written to warn us.


Lot was not saved because he was righteous. The Torah states clearly that אלקים (Elokim – G-D as Judge) remembered Avraham and removed Lot from the upheaval. His rescue was in the merit of Avraham. That detail is not incidental; it is central. Lot lived in Sedom by choice. He saw that the plain was fertile and materially promising, even though its people were described as רעים וחטאים ליהוה מאד — exceedingly wicked. Prosperity attracted him more than proximity to holiness.


And yet, Lot was not wholly lost. He practised hospitality. He protected his guests. But he was conflicted. A man standing with one foot in Avraham’s tent and the other in Sedom’s streets cannot remain stable. When he offers his daughters to the mob, we see the corrosion of moral clarity. Influence leaves residue.


His wife “looked back.” The Hebrew reads ותבט אשתו מאחריו ותהי נציב מלח. This was not a casual glance. חז״ל explain that it reflected attachment. She could not detach from the culture being destroyed. Salt is measure-for-measure. According to Midrash, she sinned with salt when she begrudged hospitality. She becomes a pillar of salt — frozen in the very substance tied to her failure. One who cannot separate from corruption becomes part of it.


Lot survives. But survival is not transformation.


He first begs to go to Tzoar, unwilling to ascend to the mountains. Only later does fear drive him upward. Finally he sits in a cave. The cave is more than geography; it is psychology. It is retreat, confusion, and collapse.


Then come the daughters.


They say there is no man in the land. Many commentators explain that they believed the world had been destroyed, as in the Flood. From their perspective, humanity’s continuity depended on them. This does not justify the act; incest is forbidden under the שבע מצוות בני נח. But it reframes their motivation. The Torah does not describe seduction. It records desperation mixed with flawed judgment.


There is a subtle textual signal. On the first night, the Torah says ולא ידע בשכבה ובקומה. On the second night, the phrase appears again, yet the tradition places a dot over ובקומה. חז״ל teach that this hints he was somewhat aware the second time. After the first incident, vigilance was required. Repeated intoxication suggests not innocence but diminished moral alertness. A man who lived too long in Sedom should have recognised the pattern.


The children are named Moav — “from father” — and Ben-Ammi — “son of my people.” One name is brazen; the other restrained. History unfolds from this difference. From Moav will eventually emerge Ruth, ancestress of David HaMelech. Even from moral ambiguity, redemption can arise. But the path is long and costly.


What then is the hidden teaching?


Avraham stood outside Sedom pleading for justice. Lot stood inside negotiating survival. Avraham chose environment according to principle. Lot chose principle according to environment. That distinction determines destiny.


Lot’s wife teaches that attachment to corruption paralyses the soul. Lot teaches that rescue does not erase influence. The daughters teach that trauma without guidance can lead to distorted decisions, even when intention is framed as preservation.


The Torah does not mock Lot. It does not romanticise him either. It shows us what happens when one compromises gradually. You may escape destruction physically, yet still carry Sedom within you.


The cave after Sedom is the true test. Do you ascend to holiness, or do you retreat into confusion?


The story forces us to examine where we stand — outside pleading for righteousness, or inside adjusting to decay.



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