Rev. Joseph Boyd

In the movie Reservoir Dogs, two wounded criminals are sequestered in an abandoned warehouse, barely able to move. A third criminal busts the door open, and he comes in carrying a knife. He announces that one of the criminals is an undercover cop. He proceeds to tie this cop to a chair, duct taping his mouth, binding his hands and feet. After he’s finished, he looks at the cop and shows him his knife. As the audience stomach is in knots, anticipating what’s about to happen, and pop song begins, a soundtrack to this ghastly event. The song is a bubble gum pop song from the 1960’s – Stuck in a moment with you. Stuck in a moment. With you. The director has fun with the audience, showing the criminal dancing to this song, holding his knife. These 3 men…stuck in a moment…and for this cop….a moment he wishes he could escape from.

I wonder if this how Lot’s wife felt. I’m not referring to the end when she becomes a pillar of salt…we’ll get there. I’m wondering if Lot’s wife felt stuck in the moments leading up to her becoming a pillar. Did you notice how the men only gave instructions to Lot…never once is Lot’s wife consulted. In fact, this is so patriarchal, we don’t even know her name. She’s just referred to as Lot’s wife.
She has all these men deciding her future for her, saying they’re getting messages from God about what they should do, and she’s expected to go along with it. I don’t know about you, but if I heard a bunch of men telling me I better leave my home at once or else it would be destroyed, especially if they told me they received this message from God, I’d be suspicious too. But that’s the message – leave your home, for it will be destroyed, and don’t look back.

This is a familiar narrative in the bible – leave the place you called home, leave and go out to the wilderness, and this is important…don’t look back, keep moving forward. It’s a narrative of a people that have experience in displacement, of losing your home, the place you knew as your homeland, and forced to venture into unknown territories to start a new life. The American narrative is influenced by the biblical narrative, except Americans have made it look much more romantic. The narrative here is: they came here for a better life. We’re a future oriented culture – don’t dwell on the past, don’t look back, pull yourself up by your boot straps and keep your eye on the prize, keep looking to your goals, keep pursuing happiness.
We’re a culture constantly in pursuit. We may be saying we’re pursuing happiness, but I’m dubious. I don’t think we know what happiness is…we’re just in pursuit…pursuit of what? I don’t know…just pursuit…keep moving…keep going…eye on the prize. Like Lot and his wife, we’re fleeing into the wilderness, deep down unsure what we’ll find, if anything.

I appreciate how Lot bargains with God…did you notice that? He bargains with God about which direction he’s going to flee, and his winning argument is kind of odd at first reading. His winning argument is this – I’m going to Zoar, a Hebrew name which means “an insignificant place.” Lot says: “Please let me travel to that city. It’s small. It’s insignificant. And it’s not far.” And God concedes…”Ok, you can go to that small, insignificant place – so go round up your wife and family.” I like to imagine that conversation between Lot and his wife that evening. Lot comes home, unsure how to approach this news, and probably says something like: “Honey, I have some big news for you. You know that place in the wilderness, in the middle of nowhere, not far from here.

And Lot’s wife replies: “Of course, you mean that small, little insignificant place? Lot: Yes, exactly! Yeah, well, we’re moving there. I can imagine Lot’s wife taking in this news with disbelief and horror. I imagine her telling Lot: “We can’t move. I’ve got friends here. Our kids are in good schools. Our house is growing in value. We have a cosmopolitan life here, people of all different cultures, art, music, literature. We have a good life here.”

Have you ever heard the term “golden handcuffs”? It’s a term that means you stay stuck in a particular job because of the high salary and lifestyle that it affords you to have. Even if the work you do is not particularly inspiring or in line with your values, you stay because you can’t imagine giving up a life of luxury. Golden handcuffs. It’s a very common term in New York City. I knew many people who would use the term “golden handcuffs” to describe their life. They would be self aware enough to see it, but shrug, realizing that couldn’t imagine living paycheck to paycheck. They couldn’t give up the money. When the market crashed in 2008, and major banks and investment firms we’re laying off their most senior employees, one friend remarked to me: “I wonder if this will be an opportunity for some of these people to finally do what they really want.”

What do we really want? That’s a question we’re still wrestling with in American culture. So far the most common answers are wealth and fame…that’s what we want….that’s what we aspire to. We handcuff ourselves to these narrow ideals, and wonder why such a high percentage of our population wrestles with depression and low self esteem.

But I give Lot’s wife credit. I don’t think she would want to stay simply because of the lifestyle and wealth. It was their home, and it’s difficult to lose a home, it’s difficult to put in the work of building a solid network for yourself, people you love and trust, and then uproot yourself and have to start over. She’s probably contemplating all this as she’s stuck in the moment with this crazy fool, Lot, saying crazy things about their home being destroyed. It sounds unbelievable, it sounds like it could never happen, it sounds paranoid.

But it does happen. The city, their home is destroyed. All the memories, the places they worked, the shops they visited – there’s a large exodus of people leaving as fast as they can, and then it is burned to the ground.

For those like Lot and his wife who are given the opportunity and resources to leave, they are instructed not to look back. They’re instructed to keep looking forward, look to a brighter future, while they feel the heat of the flames at their back, and hear the sounds of their neighbors screaming in pain, screaming for help.

Lot’s wife on first reading may seem like she is being punished for becoming a pillar of salt, that she disobeyed, and made a mistake by looking back. But I think that is a shallow reading of this story. When Gary and I were discussing this story, Gary said something quite funny and brilliant – he said, she would be a great salt lick for a deer passing by. Perhaps there’s a reason that Lot’s wife becomes a pillar, forever stuck in the moment, and perhaps her becoming a pillar of salt is of some benefit. In my reading Lot’s wife is the most compassionate character, the most sensitive. She’s aware that the city she knew is burning to the ground, she hears her neighbors crying out for help, and she takes in those cries and responds humanely – she looks back in horror and compassion for these people who didn’t have the opportunity to escape.

While Lot seems concerned only for his nuclear family, Lot’s wife shows concern for all the inhabitants of the city, even the people she didn’t know. It’s a fearless act of compassion to look back. It’s tempting to follow the cultural narrative of keeping your eyes forward, keeping your eye on the prize…but Lot’s wife challenges this narrative with a single glance backward – she takes in the pain and devastation, she sees the truth, and breaks the spell of selfish concern. Salt in biblical times was a form of currency…in becoming a pillar of salt she literally became a resource for others, and literally seasons their life…she becomes an embodiment of what is truly rich and enlivening…becoming a resource for others. She’s stuck in the position of looking back, and this serves as a powerful reminder to those who are trying to escape – don’t forget the past, don’t forget your home, and don’t run away from the people who are burning in pain unable to escape. Be a witness. Be a witness. As a witness you become a pillar of your community. Lot’s wife is the moral example in this story, and she reminds us to be fearless in looking back witnessing those who are left behind in our culture, who are forgotten and ignored.

Lot’s not all bad though. He’s not as moral and compassionate as his wife, but he has a unique journey ahead of him. Do you remember that he was heading to Zoar, an insignificant place? This is another biblical literary device. All the best people and events in bible are bound to insignificance. Moses, who is seen as insignificant because he is a poor public speaker, is told to lead the Jews. The Jews are told to leave the greatness of Egypt and venture into the desert, the middle of nowhere, where the promised land lies. Christians picked up on this theme, saying that the son of God was born in a manger, literally surrounded by animal feces. Every time the bible points to something seemingly insignificant in terms of place or character, there is going to be a great story taking shape there. It was only in reading this story of Lot and his wife that I’ve become aware of how this narrative device has shaped my own consciousness. I’m drawn to the places deemed insignificant by our culture, and I revel in discovering the extraordinary in these seemingly insignificant places and lives. It shows me that there is no insignificant place and no insignificant life…but sometimes you can only learn that by intentionally going in the direction of what is judged as small or insignificant.

In our worship meeting last Sunday, we were reflecting on the idea of being faithful in small things, and one member said: “I don’t understand the word ‘small’” Brilliant. I don’t believe in insignificance….when I hear the word insignificance I interpret the word to mean a place or person that our culture finds dangerous to know and understand, because they hold truths that contradict our cultural narrative. We think of people in prisons as insignificant. We think of people who live in projects as insignificant. Our culture thinks of places like Youngstown as insignificant. The reason is because all of these hold deep truths borne of grief and survival that add complexity to who we are as a people. I believe Youngstown knows America more than any place I’ve ever been…I’ve been to New York, I’ve been to Los Angeles, I’ve seen the richness and glamour, the wealth of our country. But I’m not as interested in wealth and glamour…those are a facade. I want to be intimate with America’s secrets, and our secrets are here in Youngstown. People refer to Youngstown as dangerous and insignificant, because they want to bury America’s secrets, keep people from finding out.

Others may think of Youngstown as stuck in a moment, unable to recover from the steel mills closing over 40 years ago. People think of Youngstown the way some people think of Lot’s wife – you must have done something wrong to end up like this. You were either stupid or didn’t obey the instructions for success, so you deserve what you’re experiencing. But this is a backward, cockeyed interpretation on both accounts. Youngstown is the heart of America, and Lot’s wife is the moral heart of the entire story. It takes resilience and courage to remain firmly planted in the moment as everybody tries to leave, leaving our laborers behind. It is a unique call to dare to look back, and witness difficulty. It’s a unique call to make ourselves into pillars…resources for the community and a comfort to others that at least one person is paying attention to them. We can make ourselves into pillars, here now in the moment, stuck firmly grounded in our commitment to bear witness until the end of time. And if becoming a pillar is not your calling, pursue the places and people judged insignificant. Pursue insignificance with all your strength…and be open to the extraordinary…it will be waiting for you.