Vayeira: The consequence of not letting go

On their journey to the land of Canaan, Abraham and Sarah were accompanied by Lot, Abraham's nephew. After they settled in Canaan, the Torah recounts that strife arose between the shepherds of Abraham and those of Lot. To preserve peace between them, Abraham proposed that they separate, saying that Lot could choose whichever part of the land he desired, and Abraham would go in the opposite direction. Lot chose the fertile region of the Jordan Valley, at that time known as the cities of Sodom and Amorrah. 

The people of Sodom were known for their distinctive and deeply troubling philosophy of life. They believed that whatever God had given each person was meant to remain solely theirs. To give to someone else what God had not already provided them was considered a crime. Poverty and wealth were seen as divine design — if you were poor, that was God’s will; if you were rich, that too was God’s will. Offering help to another was viewed as interfering with God’s plan and was strictly forbidden.

The laws of Sodom were built around this ideology: no giving, no charity, no hospitality. It was illegal to share food, open your home, or assist another person in any way. Over time, Lot became comfortable with this “every man for himself” mentality, though he still maintained a relationship with his uncle Abraham — the very embodiment of generosity and kindness.

God despised the ideals of Sodom and Amorrah. Their selfishness grew so extreme that it evolved into cruelty and corruption. Seeing no hope for change, God decreed their destruction. Yet because Lot was dear to Abraham and Sarah, God sent angels to rescue him and his family before the cities were destroyed.

The angels, appearing as ordinary men, arrived in Sodom and came to Lot’s home. Despite living among a people hostile to compassion, Lot welcomed them in and offered them food and drink — echoing the hospitality he had learned from Abraham. The angels revealed what was about to happen and urged him to flee with his family. Lot’s sons-in-law dismissed the warning as nonsense, leaving only Lot, his wife, and his two daughters to escape the coming devastation.

When the townspeople learned of Lot’s guests, they surrounded his home in outrage. They demanded he surrender the visitors, furious that he had broken Sodom’s law by showing kindness to strangers. Lot tried to reason with them, even offering bribes, but they refused. As the mob grew violent, the angels struck them with blindness, allowing Lot and his family to flee.

Before leaving, the angels gave Lot and his family one instruction: do not look back. As fire and brimstone rained down on the cities, Lot’s wife couldn't resist and she turned back to glance at the destruction behind her — and in that moment, she became a pillar of salt.

This story carries a timeless message. Though we may not want to admit it, there is a part of Lot’s wife in all of us. She did not look back because she was wicked or rebellious — she looked back because she was human. Because sometimes, even when we know it’s time to move on, we can’t help but turn back to what once was.

Lot’s wife looked back at the life she had built, at the city that once held her memories, her friends, her comfort. She turned back toward the familiar — even though that familiarity had become poisonous. Her glance wasn’t defiance; it was attachment. A longing for what once was. But in that single moment, she became frozen in time — a pillar of salt, a symbol of what happens when we can’t release the past.

Lots wife didn't turn into a pillar of salt out of punishment but because she wasn’t ready to move forward. She wasn’t ready to grow past who she once was. Legend has it that the pillar of salt became the dead sea, a body of water with so much salt— nothing grows. A reflection of Lots wife, she refused to change so she stayed stuck where she was. You cannot move forward while clinging to what God has already asked you to leave behind. You can’t step into new blessings while holding onto what once broke you. To look back is to stay stuck — to be physically moving but spiritually standing still.

Like Lot’s wife, we all struggle to say goodbye to what no longer serves us. It might be a place that feels safe but stifles our growth, a relationship that drains us but feels too familiar to walk away from, or an identity tied to an old season of life. We pray for change, for blessing, for new beginnings — yet we grip the very things that keep us bound to the past.

Lots wife thought that by physically moving she could cut ties with the past. But entering new places with the same old baggage is just a cycle bound to repeat itself. Lots wife had to internally let go of what once was in order to enter something totally new. Similar to us, we may move to a new city, enter a new relationship, start a new job. But the same patterns repeat themselves all over again. Because it’s not enough to just put on foot in front of the other and physically leave the place that was destroying you. You need to remove the baggage from your heart in order to really enter something new.

God’s message through this story is gentle but firm: I have something greater waiting for you — a new life, a new chapter, a promise beyond what you can imagine. But to receive it, you must trust Me enough to let go of what once was.

The past may feel comfortable because it’s known, but it cannot carry you into what’s next. Faith means walking forward even when you don’t know exactly where you’re going, trusting that God’s hand is guiding you toward something better.

So when you feel the urge to look back — to return to what’s familiar but finished — remember Lot’s wife. As a mirror reflecting what happens when we don’t let go of what no longer serves us. Her story is a reminder that holding on to the past can cost us the future God longs to give us.

Let go. Step forward. Don’t look back.