Remember Lot's Wife

There are some people in the Bible we expect Jesus to mention. Abraham, Moses, David and Elijah appear again and again because their lives shaped the story of Israel. Their names became woven into the memory of God’s people.

Then there is Lot’s wife. She appears only briefly in Genesis. She never speaks, and we know almost nothing about her, except for one unforgettable moment. As she flees the destruction of Sodom, she looks back and becomes a pillar of salt.

It would be easy to assume her story ends there. Yet centuries later, Jesus unexpectedly says something remarkable:

“Remember Lot’s wife.”

Of all the people he could have chosen as an example, why her? Jesus offers no explanation. He simply assumes that this almost-forgotten woman has something important to teach every generation that follows.

For years, I assumed the answer was obvious. She had been given a command; she disobeyed it and suffered the consequences, and this is what we need to learn.

But the more I have studied this passage, the more I realized that explanation leaves one important question hanging in the air.

Why did she actually look back in the first place?

Genesis never tells us. Over the centuries, commentators have suggested curiosity, disbelief, hesitation or simple disobedience. I think each explanation contains an element of truth, yet I wonder if the story itself is pointing us towards something deeper. Perhaps the real issue was never where Lot’s wife directed her eyes. Perhaps it was where she had left her heart.

A Family That Didn’t Want to Leave.

One detail is easy to miss because our attention is usually fixed on Lot’s wife. In reality, she is not the first reluctant person in the story. Lot himself is.

When the angels arrive in Sodom, there is a sense of urgency that fills every conversation. Judgement is coming. Time is running out. The family must leave immediately. Yet Genesis quietly tells us something completely unexpected.

“But he lingered.”

I love that detail because it feels so wonderfully human. Lot has been warned. He knows exactly what is coming, yet he struggles to take the first step. Eventually, the angels take hold of Lot, his wife and his daughters by the hand and have to physically lead them out of the city. That changes the whole atmosphere of the story.

This is not a family eagerly escaping danger. It is a family struggling to leave the life they have known.

Why Was Sodom So Difficult to Leave?

At first, that seems almost impossible to understand.

After all, Genesis paints Sodom as a place where something has gone profoundly wrong. Later biblical writers describe it as a society marked by pride, excess and a neglect of the vulnerable. It hardly sounds like somewhere anyone would long to remain. Yet people rarely become attached to places because those places are perfect. They become attached because those places become home.

Years earlier, Lot had chosen the fertile plain because it looked prosperous. It had promised opportunity, security and a comfortable future. Over time, that temporary decision became permanent. Relationships formed. Possessions accumulated. Slowly, and without really noticing it, Sodom became part of his identity. That is often how spiritual drift works.

It rarely arrives with drama. More often, it settles into the background of ordinary life until what once challenged us begins to feel completely normal. The greatest danger of Sodom was not simply that it was wicked. The greater danger was that, after years of living there, wickedness no longer felt unusual. It had become normalized.

Therefore, leaving no longer felt like rescue. It felt like loss.

Looking Back. that changes the way I read Lot’s wife. For years, I imagined her taking one final glance over her shoulder, as though curiosity alone explained everything. Yet the story itself suggests something more significant. The angels repeatedly urge the family to flee, not to stop, and not to look back. Those commands belong together. The issue is not merely geographical movement but wholehearted departure.

Several biblical scholars have suggested that looking back symbolizes attachment, longing or divided loyalty. Rather than recording a single glance, Genesis may be describing someone whose heart was still facing the place her feet were leaving behind. That possibility makes the story feel remarkably contemporary.

Most of us know what it is like to move on physically while remaining emotionally rooted in the past. We leave jobs but continue defining ourselves by them. We leave relationships yet revisit them repeatedly in our thoughts. We move into new seasons of life while measuring everything against what has already gone. Outwardly, we have moved on. Inwardly, part of us is still looking back.

Leaving is often much easier than letting go. Then Jesus Explains Why She Matters That, I think, helps explain why Jesus suddenly brings her story back into view. In Luke 17, he is speaking about the coming Kingdom of God and the unexpected moment when everything changes. He describes people eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building. Life appears perfectly ordinary.

Then, almost without warning, he drops in:

“Remember Lot’s wife.”

The brevity of those words is striking.

Jesus offers no explanation because he assumes his listeners already know the story.

Immediately afterwards, he adds:

“Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life will preserve it.”

Suddenly, everything falls into place. Jesus is not using Lot’s wife as an example of curiosity. He is using her as an example of divided loyalty. She wanted rescue, but she also wanted Sodom. She wanted the future God was providing while still holding onto the life she already knew. That tension is one of the recurring themes of faith.

Again and again, God calls people towards futures they cannot yet see while asking them to release what feels safe and familiar.

The Pull of the Past.

Perhaps that is why this story continues to speak so powerfully today. It has spoken to me recently when I consider the journey I have been on for the past few years. A covid infection left me disabled with chronic fatigue, and I have gone from parish priest to a full-time writer.

In many ways, I feel deeply grateful. Writing fits around my fluctuating energy levels and allows me to continue the work I love without testing my limited mobility every day. Yet I still find myself looking back, wishing I could do what I once did.

Memory has a way of polishing the past. I easily forget how demanding parish ministry could be, and how much my health has changed.

The Israelites exhibit the same tendency after leaving Egypt. Even slavery begins to look attractive once hunger and uncertainty arrive in the wilderness. They began to yearn for the food they once remembered and forgot that they were bound to that place.

Lot’s wife seems to embody that same temptation.

She knew God was leading her away, yet she could not help mourning what she was leaving behind, even though, by every account, it was not a good place to live. Faith often requires us to live in that uncomfortable space.

Leaving Is Not the Same as Letting Go.

Perhaps that is the deepest lesson hidden within the story. Leaving and letting go are not always the same thing.

Lot’s wife left Sodom physically, but emotionally, the city still held her imagination. The Bible returns to this theme again and again.

Abraham leaves his homeland for a future he cannot yet imagine. Israel leaves Egypt but struggles to leave Egypt behind in its heart. The disciples leave their nets and discover an entirely different way of living. Again and again, God’s people are invited not simply to relocate but to allow their hearts to be reshaped.

The challenge is not just taking the first step.

More often, it is also learning not to keep looking over our shoulder.

Remember Lot’s Wife

Jesus could have reminded his followers of countless figures from Israel’s history. Instead, he chose a woman who appears for only a few verses. Perhaps he did so because her struggle is one we all recognize.

There are moments when we know a chapter has ended. A career comes to an end. A relationship changes. Children leave home. Illness reshapes our future. Dreams we once held tightly no longer fit the life we are living.

We know we cannot go back, even though part of us still wants to. Lot’s wife reminds us that it is entirely possible to move forward physically while remaining emotionally anchored to the past.

Her story is not really about one forbidden glance. It is about the extraordinary difficulty of trusting God enough to let go of what is familiar so we can embrace what lies ahead. Perhaps that is why Jesus tells us to remember her. Because the temptation to keep looking back did not end with Sodom.

It follows every generation, asking the same question:

Do we trust God enough to let go of yesterday so that we can embrace the future he is leading us towards?