"According to the text, is Lot a righteous man or not?"
This was one of the questions we asked students at our Bible school's oral examinations last month.
Not unlike our initial study of the text together last February, most answered in the affirmative: Lot was righteous.
Why?
"God saw him among all the people in Sodom", said one old man.
That seeing, within such a great sea of humanity, must attest to something of Lot's righteousness.
"Lot would do anything to protect his visitors," said another man. "He proved he was righteous by giving his daughters in place of the two men to the men of Sodom."
This answer took me aback a bit, for it is the opposite of what I had argued in the original lesson. Yet this man did make a compelling association in support of his position: Lot's offer of his daughters was like that of Abraham to Isaac, the one whom the story in Genesis 22 introduces as "your only son, whom you love." Thus, rather than an act betraying the daughters' worthlessness in their father's eyes, Lot's offering was likewise of the "beloved".
Another woman was less convincing. In her judgment also, Lot was righteous. However, when pressed, she, unlike other students, did not modify her stance to admit that Lot may have been wrong at least in his willingness "to bring out" his daughters to evil men.
"Lot knew that God was going to rescue him and his family anyway. That is why he offered his daughters."
Although her reasoning is not unlike that which the author of Hebrews offers up with regard--again--to Abraham when he "offered up Isaac" because he "considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead", it elicits one critical objection.
"If he knew," said I, "why then did he not simply give the men his visitors?"
Though through hesitation, her answer amounted to the belief that visitors are more important than daughters--actually, than anyone. That is why Lot would not think of bringing them out.
It is true that visitors are particularly vulnerable people; they can navigate neither the space nor the conventions of a place as its residents, and are therefore at the mercy of the residents. This is, in fact, Lot's primary claim to righteousness in the text: he, as a resident alien among resident Sodomites, alone shows hospitality to the visitors who come to the gates of the city.
Yet there is something else, I believe, that the text invites us to consider.
Guests are not only those who come, but those who are. Long before the two angels arrived in Sodom, Lot the father had charge of guests, whether he deemed them so or not. That he would bring them--his daughters--out for rape is not as much a thing exposed by Lot's righteous impulse to protect those who have come as it exposes his failure to care for those who are daily in his midst.
Lot's dilemma may also reveal an African caveat in the text. Izithunywa, the Xhosa word for messengers--the two angels who come to Sodom--often stands in the context of mediums who divine causes for human misfortune via spiritual messengers, the ancestors. And, not unlike the daughters and the men who have come under the shelter of Lot's roof, the spirits of the dead "compete" with one's living dependents for the attention of present-day Lots, those African fathers and mothers heading households.
"This is the way of keeping us poor," says a young, Xhosa pastor.
How? In a context of poverty, people cannot afford to hold extravagant, expensive feasts in honor of deceased elders (a typical response if one dreams of a given ancestor). Already there is not enough to support the daily, adequate nourishment, not to mention education, of many children.
"Where will that money come from?" says the pastor. "Yet you will find that there is always money for that thing."
There are always children to sacrifice for the sake of important visitors.
"So what do you think Jesus would have done if he were Lot? we asked the students.
"I think he would have offered himself", one brother replied.
How great this Father's love for us, his children.
Therein lies the righteousness in the text.
-Joe
Texts referred to or quoted in this entry: Gen 19:1-14; Gen 22:2; Heb. 11:17-19; 1 Jn 3:1
Showing posts with label Genesis 19:1-14. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genesis 19:1-14. Show all posts
Monday, December 1, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
"Bring them out"
I had an eerie sense that I had stumbled upon the paradigmatic judgment text in the Bible. From explicit references--"it will be more tolerable for Sodom on that day"--to the implicit--"the shut door" of the parable of the ten virgins--the story of the impending destruction of Sodom appears to have set the standard of judgment in the theology of Jesus.
What is that standard? And how does the text, Genesis 19:1-14, construct a biblical theology of judgment?
Having dissected the text in Hebrew, I settled upon the verb translated as "bring out" as that which brings out the key meaning in the text. It makes three appearances, each in turn lending central interpretive credibility to the objects and subjects which surround it.
In the first instance, "bring out" is the action of "the men of Sodom", those who have gathered at the door of Lot seeking "the men" who have "come to [Lot] in the night." Specifically, "the men of Sodom" request that Lot "bring them out to us, so that we may know them." Lot, noting his special responsibility toward guests--those who have "come under the shelter of my roof" and for whom he has already prepared a meal, baked unleavened bread, and washed their feet--is determined to protect "the men" from the "men of Sodom" in whom he sees "evil" intent. In fact, so great is Lot's determination that he offers in place of "the men" his two daughters "who have never known a man" to the "men of Sodom"--"to them [the daughters] do as seems good in your eyes", Lot tells the "men of Sodom."
This determination to protect guests was a quality not lost upon my student-readers; in every location where we studied together, they viewed Lot as righteous for this impulse. As one man put it, "Lot was in Sodom, but Sodom was not in Lot."
On one hand, his pithy statement was true; Lot, a "resident alien", through his hospitality toward "the two angels" does indeed "play the judge" against the residents of Sodom whose only gesture toward these same "men" is pregnant with the lust that would bear rape. The text indeed--in this regard--means to contrast the hospitality of the sojourner toward guests with the indignity of those who sit in Sodom toward the same.
On quite the other hand, however, Sodom is too much in Lot, for he appears unconcerned with the well-being of his daughters: "I have two daughters who have never known a man. Let me bring them out to you, and to them do as seems good in your eyes."
Such a thing is not good in the eyes of the text. Whereas Lot would "bring out" his daughters, abandoning them to abuse, "the men inside the house" would have Lot "bring out from the place all who are his in the city"--"sons-in-law", "sons", yes, and "daughters."
We note then, the ascending pattern of the usages of "bring out" with its subjects and objects. Whereas the activity began only with malice--"the men of Sodom" demanding that "the men" be brought out to them--it ends only with mercy--"the men" of Yahweh pleading with Lot to "bring out" from the city even "the daughters" Lot would have "brought out" to the mercy of evil men.
An undercurrent of my own seminary education--to which, by the way, I am indebted for the Bible study method employed above--was suspicion, if not dismissiveness, of allegorical readings of scripture. And yet, upon having completed the round of teaching this text at the final location last February, I found myself unrelentingly, by the Spirit, in allegory's grasp. The text, perhaps more neatly than is often the case, had presented three clear "types", specifically, "three" men. The first "man" and the last "man" are more obvious in the text; indeed, if you have been reading this entry, you will have noted well "the men of Sodom" and "the men". The second is somewhat veiled, hidden, deeply embedded in the story. Whereas the references to the other "men"--both of Sodom and of Yahweh--are rather ubiquitous, only once is a third, or as we are calling it, second, man, namely Lot, called a "man." This reference comes precisely at the point at which Lot's status as man in the middle is most acutely felt: "hard pressed against" by the "men of Sodom" but presently to be rescued by the hands of other "men inside the house." The man Lot stands in "the entrance of the doorway" of condemnation and salvation, of death and life; Lot has come out "to the men" and will go back in to other "men", but eventually the door stays shut.
Lot is a worldly man; Lot is in Sodom, and Sodom is in Lot.
Lot is a godly man; Lot is in God, is God in Lot?
And how might we, the church, like the Israel to whom the story first came, judge such a thing?
The church is in the world, and the world is in the church.
The church is in Christ, is Christ in the church?
Perhaps the daughters can tell. In the text they are powerless; so too are they in many places in the world. The Xhosa translations perhaps serve the point: Ndineentombi ezimbini, "I have two girls", says Lot, offering his daughters to the men of Sodom.
The point, in fact, came to me with some force this week. While staying for some days with a Xhosa family, we often heard the grandmother of the house cry, "Nontombi"--the name means literally, "mother of a girl"--whenever she wanted something. Without fail, Nontombi, or one of the two other adolescent girls there, would come with the desired thing. Young children--and especially young girls--serve their elders with unquestioning and, to these western eyes, astonishing, obedience. And while I know no one who would follow Lot's course in relation to his daughters, I do wonder who bears the brunt first when the forces of the world "press hard against" those who possess a relative measure of power (hint: it is not the latter).
And so, what of judgment?
Our treating as genuinely human the daughters--indeed any who are daily subject to suffering--is the quality by which we are judged, by which we know that the Holy Spirit of Jesus is in us, even as he has brought us to himself.
-Joe
Texts referred to or quoted in this entry: Lk. 10:12; Matt. 25:10; Gen. 19:1-14
What is that standard? And how does the text, Genesis 19:1-14, construct a biblical theology of judgment?
Having dissected the text in Hebrew, I settled upon the verb translated as "bring out" as that which brings out the key meaning in the text. It makes three appearances, each in turn lending central interpretive credibility to the objects and subjects which surround it.
In the first instance, "bring out" is the action of "the men of Sodom", those who have gathered at the door of Lot seeking "the men" who have "come to [Lot] in the night." Specifically, "the men of Sodom" request that Lot "bring them out to us, so that we may know them." Lot, noting his special responsibility toward guests--those who have "come under the shelter of my roof" and for whom he has already prepared a meal, baked unleavened bread, and washed their feet--is determined to protect "the men" from the "men of Sodom" in whom he sees "evil" intent. In fact, so great is Lot's determination that he offers in place of "the men" his two daughters "who have never known a man" to the "men of Sodom"--"to them [the daughters] do as seems good in your eyes", Lot tells the "men of Sodom."
This determination to protect guests was a quality not lost upon my student-readers; in every location where we studied together, they viewed Lot as righteous for this impulse. As one man put it, "Lot was in Sodom, but Sodom was not in Lot."
On one hand, his pithy statement was true; Lot, a "resident alien", through his hospitality toward "the two angels" does indeed "play the judge" against the residents of Sodom whose only gesture toward these same "men" is pregnant with the lust that would bear rape. The text indeed--in this regard--means to contrast the hospitality of the sojourner toward guests with the indignity of those who sit in Sodom toward the same.
On quite the other hand, however, Sodom is too much in Lot, for he appears unconcerned with the well-being of his daughters: "I have two daughters who have never known a man. Let me bring them out to you, and to them do as seems good in your eyes."
Such a thing is not good in the eyes of the text. Whereas Lot would "bring out" his daughters, abandoning them to abuse, "the men inside the house" would have Lot "bring out from the place all who are his in the city"--"sons-in-law", "sons", yes, and "daughters."
We note then, the ascending pattern of the usages of "bring out" with its subjects and objects. Whereas the activity began only with malice--"the men of Sodom" demanding that "the men" be brought out to them--it ends only with mercy--"the men" of Yahweh pleading with Lot to "bring out" from the city even "the daughters" Lot would have "brought out" to the mercy of evil men.
An undercurrent of my own seminary education--to which, by the way, I am indebted for the Bible study method employed above--was suspicion, if not dismissiveness, of allegorical readings of scripture. And yet, upon having completed the round of teaching this text at the final location last February, I found myself unrelentingly, by the Spirit, in allegory's grasp. The text, perhaps more neatly than is often the case, had presented three clear "types", specifically, "three" men. The first "man" and the last "man" are more obvious in the text; indeed, if you have been reading this entry, you will have noted well "the men of Sodom" and "the men". The second is somewhat veiled, hidden, deeply embedded in the story. Whereas the references to the other "men"--both of Sodom and of Yahweh--are rather ubiquitous, only once is a third, or as we are calling it, second, man, namely Lot, called a "man." This reference comes precisely at the point at which Lot's status as man in the middle is most acutely felt: "hard pressed against" by the "men of Sodom" but presently to be rescued by the hands of other "men inside the house." The man Lot stands in "the entrance of the doorway" of condemnation and salvation, of death and life; Lot has come out "to the men" and will go back in to other "men", but eventually the door stays shut.
Lot is a worldly man; Lot is in Sodom, and Sodom is in Lot.
Lot is a godly man; Lot is in God, is God in Lot?
And how might we, the church, like the Israel to whom the story first came, judge such a thing?
The church is in the world, and the world is in the church.
The church is in Christ, is Christ in the church?
Perhaps the daughters can tell. In the text they are powerless; so too are they in many places in the world. The Xhosa translations perhaps serve the point: Ndineentombi ezimbini, "I have two girls", says Lot, offering his daughters to the men of Sodom.
The point, in fact, came to me with some force this week. While staying for some days with a Xhosa family, we often heard the grandmother of the house cry, "Nontombi"--the name means literally, "mother of a girl"--whenever she wanted something. Without fail, Nontombi, or one of the two other adolescent girls there, would come with the desired thing. Young children--and especially young girls--serve their elders with unquestioning and, to these western eyes, astonishing, obedience. And while I know no one who would follow Lot's course in relation to his daughters, I do wonder who bears the brunt first when the forces of the world "press hard against" those who possess a relative measure of power (hint: it is not the latter).
And so, what of judgment?
Our treating as genuinely human the daughters--indeed any who are daily subject to suffering--is the quality by which we are judged, by which we know that the Holy Spirit of Jesus is in us, even as he has brought us to himself.
-Joe
Texts referred to or quoted in this entry: Lk. 10:12; Matt. 25:10; Gen. 19:1-14
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