Abraham and Sarah (25 page)

Everything proceeded in the usual routine until it became evident that Lot and his family were somehow disgruntled and at odds with everyone. Sarai noticed it first as Mara stayed in her own tent and declined every invitation to visit. Then Abram noticed that Lot did not come as usual to sit around the fire in the evenings. Finally when the difficulty had spread to the servants, Lot came with a self-righteous smirk and his walking stick jabbing impatiently at the ground, ready to discuss the problem.

He never directly accused Abram’s men of confiscating all the prize grazing land, but rather stated that the servants were quarreling among themselves. He hinted that it would be best if the men separated and each managed his own flocks and herds.

Abram had heard of the trouble but had thought it would soon pass because there was plenty of land for both of them. He had not counted on Lot’s continued unhappiness over leaving Egypt. The stay in Egypt had spoiled him for the lonesome, nomadic life Abram was choosing.

Abram had seen there was a strong penchant for evil in all the places where people clustered together. He would have none of it. Then after God’s revelation to him, he deliberately chose to separate himself and his family from the cities and their temptations. Lot was different. Lot yearned for the fellowship, the fast pace, and the constant change of the city. Now facing each other, Abram studied his nephew’s face and saw that he was irritable and dissatisfied. There would be no simple solution.

In the end Abram let Lot choose where he would go. He was not surprised that Lot chose to move down toward the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. “The weather is always warm down there,” Lot said. “The flocks won’t need shelter at night.”

“If you move too close to the Jordan, you will be plagued by wild animals. Even lions come up out of the wilderness of the Jordan.”

“I may live in Sodom and let my servants care for the sheep in the grazing lands outside the city.”

Abram frowned. “You realize that these cities are held by the Elamites. They could sweep down at any time and destroy the cities for not paying their tribute.”

Lot looked down and kicked the dirt with his sandal. “The Elamites are too far away. I don’t believe they’ll attack. People are just exaggerating.”

No amount of argument swayed Lot. He was determined to go, and many of the servants raised in Abram’s house decided to go with him. Abram was surprised that even the cheese maker and his two wives were leaving. Urim realized the danger. He even confided to Abram that he was concerned about moving to Sodom. He felt the threat of the Elamites was very real. However, in the end he packed up his family and made ready to move to Sodom.

Sarai invited the wives of the herdsmen, the women of Eliazer’s house, and some of the bondswomen to a farewell party. She had felt especially close to Mara and Warda since they were the ones who had come to her in Pharaoh’s house. She had no idea that Mara was jealous of her, criticized her continually, and was even ready to feign sickness as an excuse to stay away from the party.

At the same time, Sarai openly complained that Lot had made the better choice and that Mara was fortunate to have such a husband. When Warda quoted this statement to Mara, Mara rose up and dressed herself to go to Sarai’s tent.

From the moment she arrived, Mara was engulfed in questions. Everyone wanted to know where she would live and what the people of Sodom were like. Mara had never been to Sodom, and she had no idea what sort of house Lot had bargained for. But she answered all questions with great assurance and watched Sarai’s face to see the reaction. Sarai was not one to hide her feelings, and it was evident that she was unhappy.

Warda clung to Hagar with real affection. “We are Egyptians,” she kept saying. “We should be together.” For the first time Hagar seemed to notice Warda, and when it was time for the women to dance, Warda and Hagar showed how Egyptian women danced. Warda obviously had more practice, and so it wasn’t long before the women insisted she do the dance of her village and then show them the dances she did as an entertainer.

“Urim says they have houses in Sodom where women dance for the
entertainment of men,” said Urim’s wife, Safra, rather innocently. “Perhaps Warda will do that.”

Safra’s remark almost brought the party to an abrupt close. Everyone turned to look at her. She was dressed in her everyday dark blue robe with no jewelry and the plain, white mantle framed a plump, red face that constantly needed to have the sweat blotted from it. It was obvious by her expression that she meant no harm to Warda. She didn’t seem to know that among most people, it was a disgrace to dance in public before men.

Warda tossed her head and laughed. “I doubt that I’ll be dancing,” Warda said. “I’ve heard that the men of Sodom prefer to have young men dance for them naked.”

The women screamed in embarrassment and hid their faces. They were always being shocked by something Warda said. Only Sarai didn’t react. She was too busy thinking of all the interesting things these women would be seeing and doing in Sodom.

When the women left and Sarai was putting things back into their usual order, Abram suddenly appeared in the tent door. He was cheerful and in good spirits. “I saw the women leaving. They seemed to be quite pleased. The party must have been a success.” He strode across the tent floor and reached for Sarai as she turned around. Seeing the angry look on her face, he dropped his arms and backed off. “So my pretty dove is not so pleased.”

“Of course, I’m not pleased. You’ve given Lot the best of everything. You let him take what he wanted of the flocks and choose the place he wanted to live.”

“You’re thinking Sodom is better than this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sarai’s eyes flashed and her chin lifted in defiance. “There are bazaars and singing, fine clothes and travelers. Exciting things happen there.”

“Then you’ve heard only the good and not the bad.”

“Oh, I know there are people we don’t approve of, but many good people must be there too. We don’t have to get involved with anything bad.”

“Sarai, haven’t you ever noticed that when good people get mixed up with the bad, they often suffer with them when the bad people reap the punishment they’ve deserved?” Abram made his statement and then, before Sarai could answer, ducked out the door of the tent and let the flap down so he wouldn’t hear her reply.

After Lot left, Abram spent a great deal of time pondering all that had happened to him. He had made many mistakes, but he had persisted in his belief that the great Creator God, Elohim, had spoken and promised him a place, land, and descendants. Sarai was always nagging him about the promises. She would, in a most annoying manner, count them off on her fingers and at the same time remind him that none of them had come to pass. That bothered Abram, and he longed for some proof to give Sarai, something that would convince her that the voice was real and the promises were going to come true.

In spite of his praying and petitioning Elohim for more solid confirmation of the promises, Abram heard no voice and got no answer. He had almost given up in frustration when he heard the voice again. It was clear and distinct as though Lot or Eliazer was talking to him. He was not dreaming or meditating. It wasn’t even a day for deep thoughts and fervent prayers. Instead it was a bright day with the sun shining and the birds singing.

He had come to his tent door early in the morning and was enjoying the crisp air and the smell of wood smoke. Everything looked fresh and new. The rocks were etched in rich, dark colors, the olive trees fluttered their tiny leaves, and the little new lambs frolicked on patches of bright field lilies.

In this peaceful, ordinary setting, he again heard the voice. “Go,” he was told, “walk throughout the land because I am going to give it to you and to your descendants forever. Your descendants will be as the stars so that no one can count them.”

He could not resist waking Sarai to tell her. Later he wished he had kept it to himself. He had barely begun to explain when she turned pale with anger and raised her voice in a way that was most unusual for her. She said terrible things. She laughed at the idea of all the land he could see ever belonging to his descendants, and then she topped it off by reminding him that he was married to a woman who had been cursed with barrenness. “Your God is making sport of you, and you can’t see it.”

She loved him so much that to see him encouraged by what she believed were empty promises—or worse yet, dreams and delusions—was most painful. She felt she must rescue him, save him from this constant frustration. She could not believe his God would want him to suffer so. If his God cared for him at all, surely He would give him some encouragement. If his God didn’t help them soon, she had decided that she was going to set a plan in motion that would make at least one of the promises come true.

Abram spent the next months walking throughout the land just as his God had instructed him. He traveled up the central ridge to Hebron and on to Shechem and finally to Gilboa and the valley of Megiddo. He stopped at the headwaters of the Jordan and then followed it down, twisting and turning to the cities of the lower valley. He saw vineyards, olive groves, fields of barley, and wheat. He ate the sweetest grapes and drank the freshest water he had ever known. It was a land of contrasts and a subtle, haunting beauty he grew to love.

Sarai had a great deal of time to think, and by the time he returned, she had made up her mind as to what should be done. Just how to carry it out, she wasn’t sure.

“We are moving close to Hebron and the oaks of Mamre,” Abram announced. In all his walking, he had found no better place to camp.

To him, having a good campsite is as good as owning the land he has been promised, Sarai thought in continued frustration. He’s happy but not as happy as he’ll be when he sees the surprise I have for him. What his God can’t do for him, I, Sarai, will do.

T
hough Abram was camped miles away beneath the oaks of Mamre, he was well aware of Lot’s growing prominence in Sodom. Urim, the cheese maker, visited him regularly and always brought news as well as cheese. He was a very talkative fellow, and by the time he left, Abram had a good idea of how things stood with his nephew. He was not pleased by what he heard. Lot had first moved closer to the city of Sodom and finally had built a new house within the city itself.

From what the cheese maker reported, it seemed that while Lot never engaged in the wild orgies or lustful celebrations in honor of Sin, the moon god, he donated sheep for their feasts and wool for their priests. He soaked up their compliments and edged into their counsels. Eventually he was invited to become one of the honored judges who sat at the city gate. The invitation was usually reserved for princes. Reveling in his newfound status, he sent word to his uncle that he no longer needed the family patronage.

As it turned out, only a short time later Lot was in serious trouble and needed the help he had so arrogantly dismissed.

The trouble came as a surprise. Though there had been threats and warnings, no one was prepared. The news came to Abram one night soon after the campfires had been lit. The men had just finished their evening meal of bread and lentils when a desperate call broke the silence of the night.

Abram heard it first and motioned for silence. They peered into the darkness and were astounded to see the plump forms of Urim and his wife, Safra, hurrying toward them. Safra was weeping, and it was Urim they had heard calling for help.

“Urim, Urim,” Abram said, trying to calm him, “what brings you here?”

“My lord, all is lost. Everything’s gone.” Urim’s headpiece was askew, his cloak spattered with mud, and the finely worked belt gone. In the firelight his round face was grotesque. His eyes bulged, and tears ran down his round
cheeks while his mouth was puffed and gaping. Safra held the edge of her mantle to her face with both gnarled hands and wept in loud, gasping sobs.

Abram took Urim by the arm and led him a short distance from the rest of the men. “Now tell me,” he said, “what has happened. Speak softly. I don’t want to alarm my men unnecessarily.”

Urim clutched Abram’s sleeve and pleaded in a hoarse, rasping voice, “They’ve taken Warda. Who knows what they’ll do. They’re evil and cruel.”

Abram eased Urim’s hand from his sleeve and spoke firmly, “Now, Urim, start from the beginning. Who has taken Warda and where have they gone?”

In the firelight only Urim’s bulging eyes could be seen, and they were dreadful with the whites turned red and the pupils like sharp points. “My lord, it was the Elamites and their armies. Ched-or-la’o-mer with his allies. They surprised everyone. No one resisted them. They just marched in and took everything. Lot was taken from his seat at the gate, and his family members were gathered with the rest. He has lost everything.”

Abram was stunned. Though he had predicted disaster, he had not expected it to come in this way. He pushed his headpiece back and stroked his chin. His thoughts flew in all directions as he quickly pieced together all he knew of the Elamites and their allies. For weeks he had heard reports of the four kings and their exploits. They had defeated the Rephaim, the Zuzim, and the Emim. They had bypassed Sodom and Gomorrah and gone on to defeat the Horites in the mountains of Edom, then came back by Kadesh. Everyone was relieved, thinking that they weren’t going to bother Sodom.