Introduction

The sin or sins of Sodom and Gomorrah may not be what you think.

Before we go any further, I would like you to read the relevant passages for yourself. Begin with Genesis 18–19, which contains the core narrative, including Abraham’s remarkable intercession for the city and the arrival of the angelic visitors. Then read Ezekiel 16:49–50 and Jude 6–7, where later biblical writers reflect upon Sodom’s wickedness and judgment. Finally, consider Jesus’ references to Sodom in Matthew 10:14–15 and Luke 17:28–30.

Reading List:

• Genesis 18-19
  • Genesis 18:20–21
  • Genesis 19:13
• Ezekiel 16:49–50
• Jude 1:6-7
• Matthew 10:14–15
• Luke 17:28–30

Now, based on what you have read, what exactly was the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah?

The meme offers one answer, and it does so with absolute confidence: God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah for the very things supposedly being celebrated and taught in contemporary schools. The intended message is not difficult to decipher. Sodom’s destruction is being connected primarily, perhaps exclusively, with homosexuality, and that interpretation is then projected onto a modern political and cultural controversy.

There is only one problem: the biblical portrait is considerably more complicated.

Scripture does not present Sodom’s wickedness as a single isolated offense. It describes a layered collapse involving arrogance, wealth without compassion, neglect of the poor and needy, hostility toward strangers, civic violence, attempted sexual assault, sexual transgression, rejection of God’s messengers, and what Ezekiel calls “abominations.” The story is not merely about private sexual behavior. It is about a community so corrupted that a mob gathers to violate vulnerable visitors while the city offers them no protection.

That raises an important question: Why, then, do so many people say that “the sin of Sodom” was homosexuality?

The answer is partly historical. This interpretation has a long history within Christianity, and it should not simply be dismissed as though it appeared yesterday. Nevertheless, a longstanding interpretation is not necessarily a complete interpretation. Tradition can preserve wisdom, but it can also compress a complex biblical account into a slogan. In this case, the meme takes a disputed and reductionist reading of Genesis 19 (reductionist meaning that it reduces a complicated narrative to one issue) and presents it as though no other serious interpretation exists.

The sign is clear enough about what it has in view. It is invoking homosexuality, relying on the widely accepted cultural assumption that homosexuality was the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah. The image does not need to spell that out because it expects the reader to supply the conclusion automatically. Yet, as we will continue to see, the biblical account runs much deeper. The sign may be rhetorically powerful, but a Passion scene, a blue background, and capital letters do not settle the meaning of Genesis 19.

“You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” – Exodus 20:16

When Scripture’s portrait is more complex than the meme suggests, we run the risk of bearing false witness by presenting our interpretation as though it were simply and unquestionably God’s verdict. Christians should be especially careful when speaking in God’s name. When we share an image invoking divine judgment, we are not merely expressing a political opinion; we are making a theological claim about what God condemned, why He judged, and how that judgment applies to people living today. That is serious territory, and we should enter it with humility, careful study, and perhaps a flashlight. I raised this same concern in my recent post, Testing All Things Before Sharing All Things: our posts, memes, accusations, and proof texts are part of our Christian witness, and we do not have permission to distort Scripture or misrepresent our neighbors simply because doing so helps our side.

I get it. The meme is rhetorically effective. It combines religious authority, the threat of divine judgment, perceived moral danger, and concern for children. Those are powerful emotional cues. Together they can quickly activate fear and protective instincts, narrowing careful deliberation and reinforcing what we already believe. Psychologists call this confirmation bias: our tendency to notice, accept, and remember information that supports our existing views while scrutinizing contrary evidence far more severely.

The presence of a smiling child makes the image even more persuasive. It quietly suggests innocence under threat. Before we have examined the biblical text, investigated the claim about schools, or asked whether the image itself is authentic, our emotions may already be marching several steps ahead of our reasoning.

This post is not primarily an argument about public-school policy, nor is it an attempt to resolve every Christian disagreement about sexual ethics. Those are important subjects, but they are not the immediate question before us. Our first task is simpler: What does the Bible actually say about Sodom and Gomorrah?

Scripture has more to say than many of us realize. I will stick close to the text, examine the relevant passages in context, consider the competing interpretations of Jude, and resist forcing an ancient narrative into a modern political slogan. Then we will return to the meme itself and ask whether sharing inaccurate or misleading religious content may place Christians in danger of doing the very thing Scripture warns us not to do: bearing false witness.

Disclaimer

This is not a post about whether homosexuality is or is not a sin, nor is it an attempt to settle the wider Christian debate about sexual ethics. The focus here is much narrower: a common misconception about Sodom and Gomorrah that people continue to repeat as though it were the whole biblical story. When Christians share oversimplified or inaccurate claims, we risk more than getting an interpretation wrong. We risk bearing false witness, discrediting the faith we are trying to defend, and, most seriously, misrepresenting the character and judgment of God.

Never Read a Bible Verse

Greg Koukl is fond of saying, “Never read a Bible verse.” He does not mean that we should stop reading Scripture one verse at a time. He means that we should never isolate a verse from the paragraph, story, book, and larger biblical context in which it appears. A verse separated from its surroundings can be made to say almost anything. Context is the first guardrail against that kind of interpretive wandering.

So before deciding what the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was, we should begin with the immediate context and ask a simple question: What reason does the narrative itself give for God’s judgment?

Our first clue appears before the angels ever enter Sodom:

“Then the Lord said, ‘The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is immense, and their sin is extremely serious. I will go down to see if what they have done justifies the cry that has come up to Me. If not, I will find out.’” – Genesis 18:20–21, (HCSB)

Our second clue appears after the angels have entered Lot’s house:

“For we are about to destroy this place, because the outcry against its people has become great before the Lord, and the Lord has sent us to destroy it.” – Genesis 19:13, (ESV)

Notice the repeated word: outcry.

The Lord first speaks of an outcry rising against Sodom and Gomorrah. The angels later repeat that the outcry against the city has become great before God. Whatever was happening in Sodom, people were suffering badly enough that their cries had reached heaven. God’s judgment is presented as a response to grievous wrongdoing, not as an arbitrary explosion of divine anger.

That does not yet tell us precisely what every sin of Sodom was. The passage does not pause to provide a neat list. It does not say, “The outcry was caused by this one specific behavior.” What it does tell us is that Sodom’s corruption had victims.

I am not sure we can simply read consensual same-sex relationships into the word outcry. Perhaps someone could argue that such behavior formed part of Sodom’s wider moral condition, and the wording leaves room for more than one offense. But the text itself does not say that people were crying out because private, consensual same-sex activity was taking place. The outcry language points more naturally toward people suffering injustice, abuse, oppression, or violence. The text is beginning to give us a picture, but it is not yet the simplified picture offered by the meme.

There may be another clue in the way Lot receives the visitors. Lot sees the two strangers, urges them to enter his home, feeds them, and gives them shelter. When the mob surrounds the house and demands access to the visitors, Lot steps outside and confronts them. Lot then says that the men have come “under the shelter of my roof.”

In the ancient hospitality tradition reflected in Genesis 19, a guest who entered a household came under the host’s protection. Hospitality involved more than offering a meal and pointing toward the spare room. The host accepted responsibility for the guest’s safety. Lot’s declaration therefore expresses a serious protective obligation: these strangers are now under his roof, and he is responsible for defending them.

The mob’s demand is consequently more than crude behavior. It is an assault upon vulnerable strangers, a threat of collective sexual violence, and a direct rejection of the obligations of hospitality.

There is another detail worth noticing. Lot is male. He stands outside the house directly in front of the mob, yet they initially demand the visitors rather than Lot. Only after Lot obstructs them and challenges their conduct do they threaten to treat him even worse than the strangers.

That does not solve every interpretive question, but it should at least make us pause before describing the scene as a straightforward condemnation of homosexuality. The men are not seeking a relationship. They are not asking for companionship, affection, or consensual intimacy. They are demanding access to strangers in order to humiliate, dominate, and violate them.

We will look more closely at ancient hospitality in the next section. For now, remember the clues already in front of us: the cries of victims, the targeting of strangers, Lot’s duty to protect those beneath his roof, and a mob prepared to use sexual violence as an instrument of power.

What Does Ezekiel Have to Do with It?

If we stopped with Genesis 18–19, we would have several important clues, but much of our conclusion would still depend upon inference. We know there was an outcry against Sodom. We know vulnerable strangers were threatened. We know the mob intended collective sexual violence. We know Lot placed the visitors under the protection of his household. Yet Genesis does not pause the story to give us a tidy, numbered list titled The Official Sins of Sodom and Gomorrah.

This is where another basic principle of hermeneutics (the disciplined interpretation of Scripture) becomes important: when a passage is unclear, we look to other biblical passages that address the same event. In other words, we allow Scripture to help interpret Scripture.

So where else does the Bible discuss Sodom? Two especially important passages appear in Ezekiel and Jude. We will come to Jude shortly, because Jude introduces another layer of complexity. For now, let us turn to Ezekiel and see what the prophet says.

“Behold, this was the iniquity of your sister Sodom: pride, overabundance of food, prosperous ease, and idleness were hers and her daughters’; neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy. And they were haughty and committed abominable offenses before Me; therefore I removed them when I saw it and I saw fit.” – Ezekiel 16:49–50 (AMP)

That is quite a list. Ezekiel identifies pride, excessive prosperity, complacency, neglect of the poor and needy, haughtiness, and abominable conduct. These are multiple and complementary sins, not one isolated offense. Whatever else we conclude about Sodom, the prophet does not reduce its wickedness to a single sexual category.

The word translated “abominable offenses” is תּוֹעֵבָה (tôʿēbâ, abomination), a broad term for something morally or religiously detestable. It is often associated in the Old Testament with idolatry and practices connected to false worship, so it is reasonable to suspect that idolatry formed part of Sodom’s corruption as well. Still, the word is not limited to idolatry, and Ezekiel does not identify one specific offense here. We should therefore resist treating it as a hidden synonym for homosexuality. At most, it points to further abhorrent conduct beyond the pride, excess, complacency, and neglect of the vulnerable that Ezekiel has already named.

Based upon the passages we have examined so far, I think the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah were layered, though they seem to orbit one central moral failure. Hospitality is one way to describe it, especially in the ancient setting. In a broader and perhaps more theologically precise sense, however, the issue was the refusal to treat other human beings with the dignity and respect owed to those who bear the image of God. Much of human history can be summarized as our repeated failure to do exactly that—our inhuman treatment of one another. The command to “love your neighbor” comes to mind here, because Sodom appears to represent its opposite: the strong exploiting the weak, the comfortable ignoring the needy, and the stranger being treated not as a neighbor to protect, but as someone to use. Power was not used to serve; it was used to dominate.

That pattern connects Ezekiel’s indictment with the violence of Genesis 19. The story portrays xenophobia (hostility toward outsiders) combined with a failure of hospitality, civic corruption, attempted gang rape, and the abuse of vulnerable people. Sexual violence appears in the story, certainly, but it appears as an act of domination against strangers, not as a portrait of a consensual same-sex relationship.

I will be the first to admit that I am not 100 percent certain about every interpretive detail. Ancient texts deserve more humility than modern memes usually provide. Nevertheless, I believe there is enough biblical evidence to lean away from the reductionist claim that consensual homosexuality was the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah and toward the conclusion that Sodom was judged for a larger network of sins.

Within that network, Genesis directly presents attempted sexual violence against strangers or foreigners. Lot himself was male, yet he was not initially the object of the mob’s demand. Only after he stood between the mob and the visitors, insisting that they were under his protection, did the men turn their hostility toward him. That detail does not settle every question, but it does make the popular one-word interpretation increasingly difficult to sustain.

Forgive the indulgence, but I cannot help noticing something here: perhaps the meme is right, just not in the way its creator intended. Pride. An overabundance of food. Prosperous ease. Complacency. Failure to strengthen the poor and needy. Someone could read Ezekiel’s list and reasonably ask whether the charge might apply to the United States.

We are prosperous, powerful, and frequently proud. We waste enormous quantities of food while others remain hungry. We possess resources that ancient kings could scarcely have imagined, yet we still debate whether the vulnerable are deserving of help. We can become so comfortable that another person’s suffering feels distant, abstract, and safely outside the shelter of our own roof.

I know that is not what the sign had in view, and the point would probably be lost on nearly everyone who saw it. The current zeitgeist (the dominant cultural mood) has trained many people to hear “Sodom and Gomorrah” and think only of homosexuality. Ezekiel, however, refuses to let us off that easily. His indictment points not only outward toward the sins we find convenient to condemn, but inward toward pride, excess, indifference, and the neglect of those in need.

And perhaps that discomfort is exactly why we need to keep reading, because I have more for you. I said at the beginning that this issue was more complex than the meme suggests, and we are only now beginning to see how much more complex it is.

That is the problem with memes. They compress a complicated question into a slogan, strip away the context, and hand us a conclusion before we have done the work of interpretation. Sometimes that simplification is merely incomplete. Sometimes it becomes so reductive that it is no longer just incomplete; it is wrong.

Hospitality: More Than Good Manners

Before we turn to Jude, we need to pause and look more closely at hospitality in the ancient world. Watching a recent adaptation of Homer’s Odyssey reminded me that hospitality was not merely a pleasant social custom in ancient cultures. It was a serious moral obligation, bound up with honor, justice, protection, and the treatment of strangers.

That background sheds additional light on Genesis 19.

Hospitality is a major biblical theme. Genesis 18 presents Abraham generously welcoming three unknown visitors. He offers them water, rest, food, and protection before he fully understands who they are. Genesis 19 then presents a sharp contrast: Lot welcomes the strangers into his home, while the city of Sodom responds to their presence with hostility and threatened violence. Ezekiel later describes Sodom as arrogant, prosperous, complacent, and unwilling to strengthen the poor and needy.

I explored the broader biblical responsibility toward outsiders in my earlier post, What Scripture Says About Immigrants. Scripture repeatedly commands God’s people to care for the stranger, the foreigner, the widow, the orphan, and others who lack ordinary social protection. These are not random additions to biblical morality. They reveal something fundamental about how God expects power to be used.

In the ancient hospitality tradition reflected in Genesis 19, a guest who entered a household came under the host’s protection. Lot’s declaration that the visitors had come “under the shelter of my roof” expresses that obligation. Their safety had become his responsibility.

That does not excuse everything Lot says or does in the story. His offer of his daughters is horrifying, and we should not sanitize it merely because it occurred in an ancient culture. The text describes a deeply disordered situation in which nearly every available choice has become morally grotesque. Nevertheless, Lot’s language about the shelter of his roof helps us understand why he confronts the mob: the visitors have entered his household, and he believes he is now obligated to protect them.

The mob’s demand is not merely an act of sexual violence. It is also a direct assault upon the sacred duties of hospitality, in the worst possible way.

The Guest Under Protection

Hospitality in the ancient world was not simply a matter of offering coffee, finding a clean towel, and hoping the guest leaves before the weekend is over. Travel was dangerous. A stranger might face hunger, exposure, robbery, exploitation, or death. There were no hotels at every crossroads, no roadside assistance, and no emergency number to call.

To welcome a traveler was to provide food, shelter, safety, and temporary belonging.

In ancient Greece, hospitality carried a serious moral obligation known as ξενία (xenia, guest-friendship). It created a reciprocal bond between host and guest, requiring the host to provide food, shelter, and protection. The stranger or guest was believed to be under the care of Ζεὺς Ξένιος (Zeus Xenios, Zeus of strangers), which is why the custom is sometimes described as “Zeus’s law of hospitality.” The underlying principle was simple: a stranger was not merely an outsider, but someone temporarily placed under your care.

What does Zeus have to do with it? Homer’s Odyssey repeatedly judges characters by how they treat guests, strangers, and suppliants. The poem reflects the belief that the gods might move among mortals disguised as ordinary travelers, observing whether people practiced hospitality or committed injustice. In effect, every stranger might represent a divine test. That belief placed a moral restraint upon violence and exploitation: mistreating a vulnerable traveler might also mean offending the gods who watched over them.

The biblical story contains a striking parallel. Abraham welcomes strangers who turn out to be divine messengers. Lot shelters strangers who turn out to be angels. Hebrews later warns Christians:

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”- Hebrews 13:2

The point is not that the Bible borrowed its theology from Zeus, or vice versa. Rather, both traditions recognized a basic moral reality: strangers are vulnerable, and a society reveals its character by how it treats those who arrive without power, status, or protection.

Against that cultural background, the behavior of Sodom becomes even more disturbing. The city does not merely fail to welcome the strangers. It gathers collectively to violate them. The visitors are treated not as guests, neighbors, or human beings, but as objects upon which the city can exercise domination. Sodom attacks hospitality at every level. It rejects the stranger, violates the guest, challenges the host, threatens bodily dignity, and turns civic power into collective violence.

Hospitality Then and Now

Hospitality was not important only in the ancient Near East and Mediterranean world. It remains a prominent value in many contemporary Middle Eastern and Arab cultures, especially where family, community, honor, and reciprocal obligation remain central.

These are often described as collectivist cultures, meaning that identity and responsibility are understood largely through relationships with family, household, and community rather than through the individual alone. In such settings, receiving a guest can reflect upon the honor of the entire household. Hospitality is not merely a private act of kindness; it is a communal responsibility.

Of course, no culture is uniform, and we should avoid romanticizing either the ancient or modern world. Hospitality can be sincere, ritualized, selective, or even exploited. Nevertheless, this cultural background helps modern Western readers recognize how serious Sodom’s conduct would have appeared. The city did not merely display bad manners. It violently repudiated one of the most basic obligations of communal life: protect the vulnerable person who has entered your care.

That brings us back to the deeper issue. The sins of Sodom appear like layers of an onion. Pride. Excess. Complacency. Neglect of the poor. Hostility toward outsiders. Abuse of the vulnerable. Sexual violence. Rejection of divine messengers. Each layer reveals another aspect of the same corruption: the refusal to treat others with dignity, mercy, protection, and love.

Hospitality may be the ancient word that helps organize these themes, but the deeper theological issue is love.  Jesus taught that the Law and the Prophets can be summarized in two commands: love God and love your neighbor. That love is not merely affection or warm feelings. The New Testament often uses ἀγάπη (agapē, self-giving love), a love expressed through action, sacrifice, mercy, and the pursuit of another person’s good.

Sodom represents the opposite of that love. It does not protect the stranger; it preys upon him. It does not strengthen the poor; it neglects them. It does not use abundance to bless others; it turns prosperity inward. It does not regard the vulnerable as neighbors; it treats them as objects.

Perhaps this is the thread connecting the sins together. The failure of hospitality was not an isolated breach of etiquette. It was the visible expression of a much deeper spiritual failure: the refusal to love one’s neighbor, one’s stranger, one’s enemy, one’s family, and ultimately God.

Does this cut a little? Are you beginning to feel uneasy? That may be because our current political debates about immigration do not always sit comfortably beside this ancient morality of hospitality. That tension is understandable. Questions about borders, law, public safety, resources, and national responsibility are real and should not be dismissed. But neither should the biblical obligation to protect the vulnerable, welcome the stranger, and treat every person with dignity. The discomfort may be telling us that our politics and our theology are not always aligned as neatly as we would like.

What Would Jesus Do?

Before we finally turn to Jude—and I know the anticipation is becoming almost unbearable—we should first consider how Jesus used the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. I want to gather the other relevant biblical evidence before we enter the debate over Jude. Trust me, the wait will be worth it. Clearing away the surrounding material first will help us focus directly on Jude’s own words, argument, and immediate context.

In Matthew 10, Jesus sends His disciples out to proclaim the good news. He tells them:

“Greet a household when you enter it, and if the household is worthy, let your peace be on it. But if it is unworthy, let your peace return to you. If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave that house or town. I assure you: It will be more tolerable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah than for that town.” – Matthew 10:12–15, HCSB

Here Jesus connects Sodom with hospitality and the rejection of God’s messengers. The disciples arrive in peace, offer peace, and proclaim the kingdom. Notice what Jesus does not tell them to do. They are not to force anyone to convert, seize control of the household, or remain until everyone agrees with them. If the people will not welcome them or listen to their message, the disciples are to leave and move on.

The warning, however, is severe. Jesus says that the judgment upon a town that rejects His messengers will be worse than the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah. The echo is difficult to miss. Sodom received divine messengers with hostility; Jesus now warns other communities not to repeat that pattern by rejecting those He sends.

Once again, we find ourselves orbiting hospitality—not merely hospitality as good manners, but hospitality as the way we receive strangers, truth, and those who come in peace. Do we welcome them, listen to them, and treat them with dignity, or do we respond with hostility and rejection?

Luke 17:28–30 uses Sodom differently. There Jesus compares the days of Lot with the sudden arrival of judgment. People were eating, drinking, buying, selling, planting, and building until destruction came. The emphasis is not upon the particular sins that caused the judgment, but upon how suddenly and decisively judgment arrived.

Luke’s account does not give us much additional information about why Sodom was judged. It tells us more about the manner and timing of judgment. Still, there is a side point worth noticing: the destruction did not come without warning. Lot and his household were warned and given an opportunity to leave, while his attempt to warn others was met with disbelief.

Jesus gives us clues rather than a complete catalogue of Sodom’s sins. Luke emphasizes the suddenness of judgment. Matthew connects Sodom directly with the rejection of God’s messengers and the failure to welcome those who come in peace. Neither passage identifies homosexuality as the single defining sin of the city. Matthew, in particular, keeps drawing us back toward hospitality.

Now we can finally turn to Jude. Perhaps he can help us take a familiar refrain, examine it more carefully, and make it better.

And Now Jude

Jude adds a different dimension to the discussion. Some interpreters argue that Jude is referring to same-sex intercourse and therefore cite this passage as proof that homosexuality was the defining sin of Sodom and Gomorrah. There are two major interpretations here. I will lay out the relevant evidence as fairly as I can, and you can decide which reading best explains Jude’s words and context.

Let us begin with the passage itself. Notice how differently English translations render Jude 7:

“And don’t forget Sodom and Gomorrah and their neighboring towns, which were filled with immorality and every kind of sexual perversion. Those cities were destroyed by fire and serve as a warning of the eternal fire of God’s judgment.” – Jude 1:7 (NLT)

“Even as Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them, in like manner giving themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.” – Jude 1:7 (KJV)

“Likewise, Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which, in the same manner as they, indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural lust, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.”   – Jude 1:7 (NRSV)

“perversion/s” (NIV, HCSB, CSB), “sexual perversion”(NLT), “strange flesh”(KJV, NASB), “unnatural lust” (NRSV), “unnatural desire” (ESV, NET), “desired sexual relations that God does not allow” (NCV), “sexual rack and ruin” (The Message), “homosexual activities” (ISV).

From these translations, it is easy to see why many readers conclude that the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was homosexuality. Yet I find it curious that Genesis, Ezekiel, and even Jesus do not state that point more explicitly. So, is the case now closed? Did Jude finally supply the missing answer? Perhaps, but not so fast. Jude is one of those small biblical books packed with strange and fascinating material that often receives little attention in ordinary church teaching. Before we let one English rendering settle the matter, we need to look more closely at Jude’s language, argument, and context.

What Does “Strange Flesh” Mean?

The key Greek phrase is ἀπελθοῦσαι ὀπίσω σαρκὸς ἑτέρας (apelthousai opisō sarkos heteras, having gone after other flesh). More literally, σαρκὸς ἑτέρας (sarkos heteras, other flesh) can be rendered “different flesh,” “other flesh,” or, as the King James Version and NASB put it, “strange flesh.” Those older translations may sound awkward to modern ears, but they remain surprisingly close to the wording of the Greek.

That wording matters. Jude does not simply say that the people pursued immoral desires; he says they went after “other” or “different” flesh. Some interpreters understand this as a reference to flesh of another kind or order—nonhuman flesh. Taken by itself, that language could theoretically include any attempt to cross the boundary between human beings and another kind of creature. In the context of Genesis 19, however, the most obvious nonhuman beings are the angelic visitors.

Only one of the translations listed above explicitly inserts “homosexual activities.” Most remain with broader expressions such as “perversion,” “unnatural desire,” or “strange flesh.” That should make us cautious. The Greek does not contain a direct word for homosexuality. Translators who use that wording are not merely translating the phrase; they are choosing one interpretation of what the phrase means.

Some argue that Jude could have used ἄλλος (allos, another) if he intended “another of the same kind,” whereas ἕτερος (heteros, other/different) often emphasizes difference in kind. On that reading, the phrase points toward beings of a different nature rather than toward men pursuing other men.

I will not press that distinction too far, however. ἕτερος (heteros, other/different) does not always mean “another species,” and ἄλλος (allos, another) does not invariably mean “another of the same kind.” The two words overlap in actual Greek usage. The vocabulary raises an important possibility, but it cannot settle the question by itself.

Once again, context must do the heavy lifting. The real question is not merely what ἑτέρας (heteras, other/different) can mean in a dictionary, but what Jude intends it to mean within the flow of his argument.

Never Read a Bible Verse—Again

Jude 7 does not begin in isolation. Depending upon the translation, it begins with words such as “and,” “even,” or “likewise.” Those are not decorative. They signal that Jude is continuing a thought from the previous verse. Context is king, and here the context changes the conversation.

“And angels who did not keep their own domain, but abandoned their proper abode, He has kept in eternal bonds under darkness for the judgment of the great day, just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities around them, since they in the same way as these indulged in gross immorality and went after strange flesh, are exhibited as an example in undergoing the punishment of eternal fire.” – Jude 1:6–7 (NASB)

Wait—what? “Since they in the same way as these.”

The most immediate reference is to the angels in verse 6. Jude appears to connect the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah with the sin of angels who abandoned their proper domain and crossed a boundary they were not meant to cross. Now the phrase “strange flesh” begins to look less like a random label for sexual immorality and more like part of Jude’s larger argument about transgressing the boundaries between different orders of beings.

This is why I call Jude a gem. It is only one chapter long, but it manages to bring in rebellious angels, cosmic boundaries, eternal chains, strange flesh, and divine judgment. And all before most church coffee has had time to cool. Jude is dealing with serious and difficult material, and if we want to understand verse 7, we have to follow his thought backward into verse 6.

How Do We Know Which Angels Jude Has in Mind?

Jude 6 explicitly mentions angels, but the deeper question is: Which angelic rebellion does he have in mind? The strongest answer comes from reading Jude alongside Genesis 6 and 1 Enoch.

Jude later quotes 1 Enoch 1:9 in verses 14–15. That does not mean Jude treats every part of 1 Enoch as Scripture, but it does show that he knew the Enochic tradition and considered it useful for explaining divine judgment. That matters because Jude’s description of angels who abandoned their proper place and were bound in darkness closely resembles the story of the Watchers in 1 Enoch 6–10.

Genesis 6:1–4 gives the basic account:

“The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they took as wives whomever they chose.” – Genesis 6:2

Genesis itself is brief and enigmatic. First Enoch expands the episode, interpreting the “sons of God” as angels who left heaven, crossed the boundary between the angelic and human orders, and had sexual relations with human women. Those angels were then bound and held for judgment.

Now follow Jude’s argument:

1. Angels abandoned their proper domain and crossed an established boundary.
2. Sodom and Gomorrah acted “in a similar manner.”
3. Both groups were judged for transgressive sexual desire that crossed the boundary between human and angelic beings.

Jude makes the connection explicit with the phrase τὸν ὅμοιον τρόπον τούτοις (ton homoion tropon toutois, in a similar manner to these). The most immediate antecedent of “these” is the angels mentioned in verse 6. Jude is not simply listing two unrelated groups that happened to receive judgment. He is drawing an analogy between their transgressions.

That analogy creates a striking reversal:

• In Genesis 6, angels pursued human women.
• In Genesis 19, human beings pursued angels.

The movement is reversed, but the boundary violation is the same. Angels reached toward human flesh; the men of Sodom reached toward angelic flesh. This also fits the Genesis narrative, where the mob does not initially pursue Lot, even though he is a man standing directly before them. They demand the visitors, whom the narrator has already identified as angels.

Peter Davids acknowledges that Jude’s language connects Sodom’s offense with the offense of the angels and notes that Richard Bauckham’s interpretation produces this deliberate reversal: angels sought human women, while human beings sought angels. Davids ultimately prefers a broader interpretation centered on sexual immorality, but he recognizes that the human–angelic reading explains Jude’s immediate comparison particularly well.

This is why many scholars conclude that Jude is referring primarily to the pursuit of nonhuman beings rather than to same-sex desire. The argument does not rest upon the phrase “other flesh” alone. It rests upon the cumulative evidence: Jude 6, Jude’s wording in verse 7, the Genesis 6 background, the Watchers tradition in 1 Enoch, and Jude’s demonstrated familiarity with that tradition.

Taken together, these clues give us a serious alternative to the traditional homosexual reading of Jude 7: the men of Sodom were attempting forced sexual relations with angelic beings. The act would not have been consensual; it was attempted sexual violence. Genesis does not tell us whether the mob knew the visitors were angels, so we should not claim certainty either way. What the narrator makes clear, however, is that the intended victims belonged to a different order of creation.

“Other Flesh” Fits Angels More Naturally Than Other Men

The phrase σαρκὸς ἑτέρας (sarkos heteras, other flesh) does not naturally describe human males as belonging to a different order from other human males. The visitors in Genesis 19 appeared as men, but the narrator has already identified them as angels. They were not merely unfamiliar men from another town; they belonged to a different order of creation.

Read in light of Jude 6, the parallel becomes unusually precise:

Jude 6	Jude 7
Angels leave their proper sphere	Humans attempt to violate their proper sphere
Angels pursue human flesh	Humans pursue angelic flesh
The boundary between created orders is crossed	The boundary between created orders is crossed
Judgment follows	Judgment follows

On this interpretation, Jude is presenting a reversal. The angels crossed from the angelic order toward humanity, while the men of Sodom attempted to cross from the human order toward angels. In both cases, the transgression involves abandoning or violating a divinely established boundary.

This is why some scholars have favored the angelic-flesh interpretation. For example, Charles Reid reports that Frey considers the homosexual interpretation improbable because Jude is not merely describing men desiring other men; he is describing the pursuit of another kind of being. Put simply, the ordinary sense of “other flesh,” combined with the rebellious angels of the immediately preceding verse and Jude’s wider Enochic framework, makes angelic flesh the more contextually coherent reading.

This does not mean every scholar agrees. We will look at the competing interpretation and its arguments as well. But it does mean that Jude 7 cannot honestly be presented as though it plainly and indisputably identifies homosexuality as the sin of Sodom.

Never read Jude 7 without Jude 6. The verse is often quoted as though it stands alone and provides a simple proof text. Yet doing so separates Jude’s statement about “strange flesh” from the rebellious angels mentioned in the same unfolding argument. That is not careful hermeneutics. It is precisely the kind of verse-isolation Greg Koukl warns us against.

Strange, Yes—but Still Part of the Text

I know this interpretation sounds strange. Now you understand why I saved Jude for last. Talking about human beings attempting sexual relations with angels is one of those uncomfortable corners of Christian belief that rarely makes it into the Sunday sermon. It is easier to leave the rebellious angels, cosmic boundaries, and “strange flesh” quietly folded between the pages.

But if this is what Genesis 6 is describing, what 1 Enoch develops, and what Jude draws upon, then we do not get to discard it merely because it embarrasses our modern sensibilities. Christianity comes with some difficult and unusual material. We may wrestle with how to interpret it, but we cannot pretend it is not there.

This does not mean that 1 Enoch belongs in the Bible. It circulated widely and influenced some Jewish and Christian communities, but it was not included in the rabbinic Jewish canon or in most Christian canons. Jude’s use of it does not automatically grant the entire work scriptural authority. Paul quoted pagan poets and philosophers without turning their writings into books of the Bible. Quotation shows that an author found a statement useful; it does not necessarily canonize the source.

There is certainly much more that could be said about 1 Enoch, its history, and its influence, but we do not need to wander too far down that trail here. Its immediate importance is that it helps us understand the conceptual world Jude was drawing upon. Jude’s readers could recognize the story of angels leaving their proper place, crossing boundaries, and being held for judgment. That background helps explain why he connects those angels with Sodom’s pursuit of “other flesh.”

Yes, it sounds strange. But is it really stranger than modern stories about extraterrestrials abducting people and conducting invasive examinations? Apparently, every age has its own version of beings from another realm behaving badly. That, however, may be a blog post for another day.

My Take

My own conclusion is that the central issue is hospitality—or, more precisely, the complete absence of it. Yet even inhospitality may be too small a word for what the biblical texts describe. This is not merely a failure to offer food, lodging, or a friendly welcome. It is a total breakdown in how human beings ought to treat one another, especially strangers and vulnerable people.

The contrast begins in Genesis 18. Abraham sees unfamiliar travelers and responds with generosity, food, rest, and protection. In Genesis 19, Lot also receives the strangers into his home, but Sodom responds to their presence with collective violence. Jesus later uses Sodom as a warning about communities that reject God’s messengers rather than receiving them in peace. Ezekiel adds arrogance, abundance without compassion, neglect of the poor, and injustice.

Taken together, the biblical portrait contains several overlapping layers: violence, inhospitality, social injustice, rejection of God’s messengers, neglect of the vulnerable, and attempted sexual assault.

The attempted assault is certainly sexual, but it is also an attack upon hospitality. The visitors were strangers who had entered Lot’s household and come under the shelter of his roof. Genesis does not tell us whether the mob knew they were angels. We, as readers, possess information the mob may not have had. What the men of the city certainly knew was that these visitors were strangers and that Lot had accepted responsibility for protecting them.

Consensual same-sex intimacy is not what Genesis 19 portrays. The mob is not seeking a relationship. It is demanding access to vulnerable visitors for the purpose of domination and violation. Whatever conclusions someone may reach about homosexuality from other biblical passages, Genesis 19 is not a clear proof text for that debate.

Could homosexuality have formed part of Sodom’s larger corruption? It is possible. The city’s sins were extensive, and neither Genesis nor Ezekiel claims to provide an exhaustive inventory of every immoral act committed there. But possibility is not proof. Anyone who wants to argue that homosexuality was the defining sin of Sodom must still make that case. Genesis, Ezekiel, Jesus, and Jude do not establish it as simply or directly as the meme assumes.

For me, the angelic question does not ultimately change the story’s central moral meaning. Whether the men of Sodom understood the visitors to be angels or merely regarded them as foreign men, they intended violence against strangers under another person’s protection. Whether the victims were human or angelic, male or female, sexual assault remains an assault upon dignity, hospitality, justice, and love. Sexual violence is not hospitality, regardless of the sex or even the species of those involved.

That interpretation consistently fits the biblical evidence. Abraham welcomes strangers. Lot shelters strangers. Sodom preys upon strangers. Ezekiel condemns the city’s neglect of the vulnerable. Jesus invokes Sodom when messengers are rejected. Jude adds a sexually transgressive attempt to pursue “other flesh.” Different passages emphasize different layers, but they orbit the same moral center: the misuse of power and the refusal to treat others as neighbors worthy of dignity, protection, and care.

So my take is not that hospitality explains every detail while everything else disappears. Rather, hospitality gathers the details into a coherent whole. It is hospitality understood in its deepest biblical sense: welcoming the stranger, protecting the vulnerable, strengthening the poor, restraining violence, honoring bodily dignity, receiving those who come in peace, and loving our neighbor as one who bears the image of God. Sodom failed at all of it.

You Decide: How Do the Two Views Stack Up?

At this point, we have two major interpretations before us. Both take the sexual violence in Genesis 19 seriously, but they differ over what the story (and especially Jude) places at the center of Sodom’s guilt. I have given you my own conclusion, but now let us place the two views side by side and see how well each one accounts for the biblical evidence.

The Homosexuality Interpretation

The traditional interpretation begins with the mob’s demand to “know” Lot’s male visitors. The Hebrew verb יָדַע (yādaʿ, know) can refer simply to knowledge or acquaintance, but the sexual meaning is clear here because Lot immediately responds by offering his daughters, whom he says have not “known” a man. Whatever else is happening in the scene, the mob is demanding sexual access to the visitors.

Some scholars argue that Genesis 19 includes a condemnation of male-male sexual activity, pointing to the sexual meaning of “know,” Lot’s offer of his daughters, Jude’s reference to sexual immorality, and ancient Jewish interpretations. The strength of this view is that it takes the sexual character of the episode seriously.

The strength of this interpretation is that it does not minimize the sexual character of the mob’s demand. Genesis 19 is plainly describing an attempted sexual violation involving male perpetrators and male-presenting victims.

Its weakness is that it can collapse attempted gang rape into the modern category of homosexuality. Those are not interchangeable ideas. Homosexuality ordinarily refers to same-sex attraction, orientation, or consensual same-sex relationships. Genesis 19 depicts none of those things. It depicts a violent mob seeking to dominate and sexually assault vulnerable strangers. This interpretation moves too quickly from attempted gang rape of strangers (who are actually angels) to the much broader modern category of homosexuality, including consensual same-sex relationships.

The traditional view must also explain why Genesis 18–19 emphasizes an outcry from victims, why Ezekiel identifies pride, excess, complacency, and neglect of the poor, why Jesus connects Sodom with the rejection of God’s messengers, and why Jude describes the offense as pursuing “other flesh.” Those details do not necessarily disprove the traditional interpretation, but they make the simple claim that “homosexuality was the sin of Sodom” much harder to sustain.

The Violence-Against-Strangers Interpretation

The second interpretation reads Genesis 19 within the larger contrast between Abraham and Sodom.

In Genesis 18, Abraham welcomes strangers with generous hospitality. He offers them food, rest, shelter, and protection. In Genesis 19, Lot also receives the strangers, but the city surrounds his house and attempts to seize and violate them.

Lot explains that the visitors have come “under the shelter of my roof.” Whatever we think of Lot’s other actions—and some of them are morally horrifying—this statement reflects his obligation to protect those who had entered his household. When he refuses to surrender them, the mob turns against him, calling attention to his own status as an outsider who has presumed to judge them.

On this reading, the story is about xenophobia, violent inhospitality, abuse of power, collective sexual assault, and the exploitation of foreigners. The sexual violence is not incidental; it is the means by which the mob intends to humiliate and dominate people who lack social power and protection.

This interpretation is strengthened by the wider biblical witness. Ezekiel 16:49–50 identifies Sodom’s guilt as pride, prosperous ease, neglect of the poor and needy, haughtiness, and abominable conduct. Jesus invokes Sodom when towns refuse to welcome or listen to God’s messengers. Jude places Sodom beside angels who abandoned their proper sphere and says that the city pursued σαρκὸς ἑτέρας (sarkos heteras, other flesh), plausibly referring to the angelic visitors.

The strength of this interpretation is that it accounts for more of the available evidence. It takes the sexual violence seriously without confusing rape with consensual same-sex intimacy. It also connects Genesis with Ezekiel, Jesus, and Jude rather than treating Genesis 19 as an isolated proof text.

Its possible weakness is that “inhospitality” can sound too mild if we hear the word as merely forgetting to offer refreshments. Sodom’s failure was not a breach of etiquette. It was violent, predatory, civic inhospitality, the collective refusal to protect strangers, strengthen the vulnerable, restrain brutality, or recognize the dignity of others. But that is precisely the point: the act described in Genesis 19 was an egregious act of violence that violated even the ancient world’s demanding norms of hospitality. The mob did not merely fail to welcome strangers; it sought to humiliate, dominate, and sexually assault guests who had come under Lot’s protection. This was inhospitality carried to its most brutal extreme.

How Do They Compare?

The homosexuality interpretation correctly recognizes that the threatened act was sexual and involved men seeking access to male visitors. But it often asks that observation to carry more weight than it can bear. The text describes attempted gang rape, not sexual orientation or a consensual relationship.

The violence-against-strangers interpretation also recognizes the sexual character of the crime, but places it within the story’s larger moral framework: hostility toward outsiders, abuse of power, violated hospitality, social injustice, rejection of God’s messengers, and attempted sexual domination.

There is also a possible both-and interpretation. On this view, same-sex sexual activity may have been one sin among many in Sodom, alongside violence, injustice, arrogance, neglect of the vulnerable, and hostility toward strangers. Many scholars hold some version of this position because it preserves a role for the traditional sexual interpretation without reducing Sodom’s guilt to that issue alone. The possibility cannot simply be dismissed, but it still leaves us asking which sins the biblical writers themselves choose to emphasize.

However, even if that broader interpretation is correct, the biblical writers themselves do not emphasize homosexuality as the defining sin of Sodom. Ezekiel highlights pride, abundance, complacency, and neglect of the poor. Jesus uses Sodom in connection with rejecting God’s messengers. Jude appears to emphasize sexual transgression involving “other flesh” and a parallel with rebellious angels. In each case, the focus falls more heavily upon sins involving power, violence, violated boundaries, and the treatment of others.

The both-and view may therefore offer an easy way out of a difficult interpretive problem: perhaps everyone is partly right. Yet we should still ask which sins Scripture chooses to bring forward. If homosexuality was one part of Sodom’s wider corruption, it appears to be downplayed by Ezekiel and reframed by Jude within a larger pattern of inhospitality, exploitation, and transgression. The biblical emphasis remains broader and more morally demanding than the meme allows.

Could someone still argue from other biblical passages that same-sex sexual activity is sinful? Certainly. That is a separate discussion. But Genesis 19, Ezekiel 16, and Jude 6–7 should not be presented as simple, undisputed proof texts that homosexuality was the sole sin of Sodom.

So now you decide.

Which interpretation better explains the outcry in Genesis, the contrast between Abraham and Sodom, Lot’s reference to the shelter of his roof, Ezekiel’s catalogue of social sins, Jesus’ warning about rejecting messengers, and Jude’s comparison with rebellious angels?

For me, the cumulative evidence favors the violence-against-strangers interpretation. It explains more of the text while requiring fewer assumptions. More importantly, it allows the Bible to define Sodom’s sins rather than asking a modern cultural slogan to define them for us.

Conclusion

At this point, we should at least recognize that the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah are not a simple issue. Far from it. Genesis gives us an outcry from victims, hostility toward strangers, violated hospitality, attempted gang rape, and rejection of divine messengers. Ezekiel adds pride, prosperous ease, neglect of the poor and needy, haughtiness, and abominable conduct. Jesus connects Sodom with communities that refuse to welcome or listen to those He sends. Jude introduces rebellious angels, crossed boundaries, and the pursuit of “other flesh.”

That is a great deal of biblical material for one meme to flatten into a single modern cultural controversy.

The meme may be emotionally effective. It may confirm what some Christians already believe. It may even feel courageous to share it. But courage without accuracy is not Christian faithfulness. When a meme reduces a complex biblical account to a slogan we risk bearing false witness.

We risk something else as well: discrediting Christianity before people who can see that the argument does not hold together. When Christians confidently make claims that the biblical text does not clearly support, critics may reasonably wonder what else we have overstated. Worse still, we risk misrepresenting God by attributing to Him judgments and priorities that may owe more to our cultural assumptions than to Scripture.

Christians are ambassadors for Christ. Ambassadors do not invent the King’s message, embellish it for political effect, or alter it to make it more shareable. They represent it faithfully. That means the question before we post should not merely be, Do I agree with this? Nor should it be, Will my friends like it? A better question is: How does sharing this lead me or anyone else toward God?

I often see a meme that immediately appeals to me. My first instinct is to like it, repost it, or send it to someone who will certainly appreciate it. Then I pause. Is it true? Is it fair? Does it represent Scripture accurately? Does it represent other people honestly? Am I sharing it because it illuminates the truth, or because it delivers a satisfying blow against someone I already oppose? Sometimes the most faithful use of the share button is not to press it.

This returns me to something I discussed in Testing All Things Before Sharing All Things. Our posts, memes, slogans, accusations, and proof texts are part of our Christian witness. We are called to test what we repeat, read Scripture in context, represent our neighbors truthfully, and refuse to let emotionally powerful images substitute for honest arguments.

The Bible must not become a warehouse of weapons from which we select whichever verse will score the quickest political point. Scripture is not an ammunition depot for our culture wars. We are not authorized to make God’s Word say more than it says merely because the exaggeration benefits our side.

And when Christians see Scripture being misused by other Christians, silence is not always the most loving response. We can correct one another gently without becoming cruel or self-righteous.

We can say:

• This meme is misleading.
• The biblical account is more complicated.
• The people being condemned are human beings, not political symbols.
• And God’s Word deserves better than reduction to a partisan slogan.

Perhaps the story of Sodom should turn the questions back upon all of us.

• How does our society treat strangers?
• Do we protect vulnerable people or exploit them?
• Does our prosperity make us generous or complacent?
• Do our institutions restrain violence or enable it?
• Do we strengthen the poor and needy?
• Do we receive truth when it challenges our preferred way of life, or do we surround the house and demand that it surrender?

Those questions are more difficult than pointing at someone else’s sin. That may be why they are more important.

A meme can make the Bible smaller, narrowing its moral vision until Scripture says only what our tribe already wanted to hear. Faithful interpretation should do the opposite. It should allow Scripture to enlarge our moral imagination, expose the sins we overlook in ourselves, deepen our compassion for others, and draw us toward greater truthfulness, justice, hospitality, and love.

Appendix A: The Interchange

This appendix reproduces my exchange with the person who originally shared the meme. I include it to provide transparency, preserve the surrounding context, and show how the claims were discussed after I questioned the meme’s interpretation of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Me

This meme is misleading. It is a bit more complex than that. The Bible gives multiple, complementary reasons for why God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. “This was the guilt of your sister Sodom: arrogance, overfed, at ease, and did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and committed abominations.” (Ezekiel 16:49–50) – Jude 1:7 does not describe same‑sex relationships. (this is what the meme assumes.)

In Greek, it describes “going after strange flesh” — heteras sarkos — meaning a different kind of flesh, i.e., non‑human flesh.

This aligns with Genesis 6, 1 Enoch, and Jude’s own quotation of Enoch. Look it up. σαρκὸς ἑτέρας = “different flesh,” “other flesh,” “strange flesh”

ἑτέρας means different in kind, not just “another of the same type.”

Jude could have used ἄλλος if he meant “another of the same kind.”

He chose ἕτερος, which means different species, different nature.

This is why many scholars conclude Jude is referring to transgressive desire for non‑human beings, not same‑sex desire. — This interpretation is ancient, not modern

Early Jewish and Christian interpreters understood Jude this way:

Philo, Josephus, and early rabbis

• They describe Sodom’s sin as:
• violence
• inhospitality
• attempting to violate angels

Church Fathers

• Origen
• John Chrysostom
• Augustine

All mention the “strange flesh” as angelic flesh, not same‑sex desire.

Poster

Bestiality? *spelling. I have studied the Greek and Arabic. I use a NASB study bible. Apologetics.

Me

I’m not sure where “bestiality” came from. Jude 1:7, read in the immediate context of Jude 1:6, strongly suggests a transgression involving humans and angelic beings—not animals.

My point is that the meme, while rhetorically persuasive, is misleading about the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah. Scripture presents a layered picture that includes sexual violence, hostility toward strangers, pride, injustice, neglect of the poor, and the attempted violation of angelic visitors. Jude and Ezekiel make that complexity difficult to reduce to the single issue of same-sex activity.

None of this settles the separate question of whether particular things taught in public schools are right or wrong. My objection is simply that this meme does more harm than good because it uses an oversimplified reading and potentially incorrect interpretation of Sodom and Gomorrah to make a political point.

Poster

I think it’s good for the new Christian though. I don’t normally plug in the OT for starts. New Testament is better for new Christian’s to start. Acts-Hebrews. I will try to do better with the message. You’re right.

Me

I appreciate your thoughts on this.

References

• Bauckham, R. J. (1983). Jude, 2 Peter. Word Books.
• Bruit Zaidman, L., & Schmitt Pantel, P. (1992). Settings of religious life. In Religion in the ancient Greek city (P. Cartledge, Trans., pp. 80–91). Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511814457.010
• Davids, P. H. (2006). The letters of 2 Peter and Jude. William B. Eerdmans.
• Frey, J. (2018). The letter of Jude and the second letter of Peter: A theological commentary (K. Ess, Trans.). Baylor University Press.
• Gagnon, R. A. J. (2001). The Bible and homosexual practice: Texts and hermeneutics. Abingdon Press.
• Green, G. L. (2008). Jude and 2 Peter. Baker Academic.
• GrowStrongerRoots. (2025, November 1). Gen 18 & 19—A short study of Sodom and Gomorrah.  https://growstrongerroots.com/2025/11/01/gen-18-19-a-short-study-of-sodom-and-gomorrah/
• Hamilton, V. P. (1995). The book of Genesis: Chapters 18–50. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.
• Homer. (1919). The Odyssey (A. T. Murray, Trans.). Harvard University Press. (Original work composed ca. eighth–seventh century BCE)
• Isayev, E. (2017). Between hospitality and asylum: A historical perspective on displaced agency. International Review of the Red Cross, 99(904), 75–98. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1816383117000510
• Kassa, F. S. (2019). A home for all: The story of the inversion of hospitality in Genesis 19. In die Skriflig/In Luce Verbi, 53(1), Article a2493. https://doi.org/10.4102/ids.v53i1.2493
• Koukl, G. (2013, February 4). Never read a Bible verse. Stand to Reason. https://www.str.org/w/never-read-a-bible-verse
• Kruger, M. A. (1993). Τούτοις in Jude 7. Neotestamentica, 27(1), 119–132. https://doi.org/10.10520/AJA2548356_901
• Louden, B. (2011). Theoxeny. In Homer’s Odyssey and the Near East (pp. 30–56). Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511779794.003
• Noort, E., & Tigchelaar, E. J. C. (Eds.). (2004). Sodom’s sin: Genesis 18–19 and its interpretations. Brill. https://doi.org/10.1163/9789047413936
• Martin, L. R. (2014). Old Testament foundations for Christian hospitality. Verbum et Ecclesia, 35(1), Article a752. https://doi.org/10.4102/ve.v35i1.752
• Peterson, B. N. (2016). The sin of Sodom revisited: Reading Genesis 19 in light of Torah. Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society, 59(1), 17–31.
• Peterson, B. N. (2018). Identifying the sin of Sodom in Ezekiel 16:49–50. Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society, 61(2), 307–320.
• Reid, C. J., Jr. (2024). Cosmic disorder: Angelic rebellion, the sin of Sodom, and the Epistle of Jude. In R. Domingo, G. S. Hauk, & T. P. Jackson (Eds.), Faith in law, law in faith: Reflecting and building on the work of John Witte, Jr. (pp. 615–638). Brill | Nijhoff. https://doi.org/10.1163/9789004546189_032
• Richards, E. R., & James, R. (2020). Misreading Scripture with individualist eyes: Patronage, honor, and shame in the biblical world. IVP Academic.
• Richards, E. R., & O’Brien, B. J. (2012). Misreading Scripture with Western eyes: Removing cultural blinders to better understand the Bible. IVP Books.
• Setiawidi, A., & Fangidae, T. W. (2025). Emulating hospitality, evading xenophobia—Tracing the sins of Sodomites: Special emphasis on yādaʿ. Biblical Theology Bulletin: Journal of Bible and Culture, 55(1), 4–13. https://doi.org/10.1177/01461079251317530
• Via, D. O., & Gagnon, R. A. J. (2003). Homosexuality and the Bible: Two views. Fortress Press.
• Waters, S. E. (2017). Reading Sodom through sexual violence against women. Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, 71(3), 274–283. https://doi.org/10.1177/0020964317698763
• Wenham, G. J. (1994). Genesis 16–50. Word Books.

Excerpt

The sins of Sodom and Gomorrah may be more complex than a meme suggests. Scripture points to pride, injustice, neglect of the vulnerable, violated hospitality, sexual violence, and rejection of God’s messengers—warning Christians to read carefully, speak truthfully, and avoid potentially misrepresenting God for political effect.

Before me is a great ocean of undiscovered truth.