Sneak Peeks
Not Your Mama's Bible Story
Those who know their Bibles will recognize the quote “For The Sake Of Ten Men” as being part of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah.
For those who are unaware, Sodom and Gomorrah are famous for being ancient cities that God destroyed due to their sin. Lot is famous for being the only righteous man living there. His wife is famous for becoming a “pillar of salt” when she turned around, disobeying the only order given by their angelic saviors.
But there’s actually a lot (pun not intended) we don’t know about Sodom and Gomorrah. In all honesty, I don’t think anyone can say they understand why the cities were destroyed. The sin the Bible reports taking place there is no worse than anything reported in today’s news—but God hasn’t destroyed our country (yet). So I would argue that there was more to the story, and that it’s up for extrapolation and interpretation.
In this rendition, I have taken artistic license to create a work of fiction, loosely based on the Biblical account. It is not my intent to fill in the blanks of scripture, but to make my readers consider the various characters, their motives, and how God handles cases of moral ambiguity. Ultimately, I use scripture as a jumping off point for a moral examination of society, and as a mechanism for deeper consideration of the everyday social norms we’ve come to take for granted.
Vignette
Molech lifted up his eyes. The entire palace was in flames. He stared in horror at the chaos surrounding him. Everywhere he looked, fiery hail rained down. The skies were dark and angry; the hail, fierce and resolute.
Adonai, in his heart he called on the God of his fathers, engaging with the depths of his soul, speaking authentically for the first time in over a decade.
Adonai. Yahweh Ha-Elohim–what have you done?
For the sake of ten men, came the answer. For the sake of ten men, I would have stayed my hand. But I have looked through your ranks, and only one man with a pure heart was I able to find. And so I have not spared you.
Molech roared in rage and agony as the voice came again:
You have a choice to make.
Prologue
20 Years Ago…
It was time for Lot to give his answer.
He and his uncle had decided to part ways—there wasn’t enough land for the both of them. Now, as he stood at the top of the hill, looking down, all he saw was verdant beauty.
One needed good land to be successful. Without it, one could not grow crops or breed livestock. It would be important for him. It would be important for his wife. One day, it would be important for their children.
“Hello, love,” his new bride came out of the tent, wrapping her arm around him and stealing a kiss. “What are you up to?”
“Abraham has asked us to split up,” he told her gently, his lips playing over her forehead. “We’re going to choose a place to settle down. We won’t be nomads any more.”
She looked at him, surprised. “But it’s all we’ve ever done,” she said. “What will this mean for us?”
He looked down, across the plain, handsome mountain standing proudly at its edge. “There’s a city down there—two of them, actually,” he said. “The surrounding area is lush, and good for crops. We could live there, if you like.”
She pondered his proposition, eyes wide and sparkling as she beheld the greenery of the valley.
“I think city life could be exciting,” she said. “In fact, I think I’d welcome the change. Some new friends would be wonderful. Maybe it’ll be like living in the city again!”
“Maybe I could be a merchant,” Lot agreed. I’m sure their commerce is strong.
“We could get an apartment!” she squealed, thinking of all the possibilities. “I could decorate it for us!” She squeezed him tightly, excited at the prospect of a new life.
“Then it’s settled,” said Lot. “I’ll tell Abraham tomorrow. We’ll move to Sodom, and make a new life for ourselves there.
“I can’t wait!” she said, squeezing him tightly as she rocked. “Oh Lot, this is going to be so much fun.”
He turned and kissed her passionately, breathing her hair in deeply as he considered the impact this move would have on their lives. Nomadic life had been good to them, but this change seemed like it would be positive for their family. The city would bring with it opportunities to serve God in new ways. Lot, for one, was excited to shine his light in a dark place. Out here in the country it was lovely, but there was no one to witness to. Now he would have a new way to be used by the Lord.
His wife, for her part, didn’t seem like she was considering such things at this exact moment. She rather nuzzled his chest, giggled, and pulled him back into the tent, teasing smile on her face.
Death By Guillotine, And Other High-End Services
Shenanigans
Gonzo checked his phone. He had another text from Dante.
This was starting to get old.
Gonzo was a 26 year old somewhat blobby Pole. His real name was Czeslaw, but no one could say that, and he did a spot on impression of a muppet character when he was in kindergarten, and the nickname stuck.
His hair was beginning to thin, and he dressed in the same drab clothes his father always wore—button down shirts that appeared professional, but were in fact quite gross, and blue jeans that could be used indefinitely without ever having to buy new ones. No matter how much deodorant he put on, his armpits were always sweaty
His college roommate, Dante, on the other hand, was a slick, smooth-talking Italian. He gelled his hair every day, wore his collar open by one button more than was necessary, kissed the gold crucifix around his neck for good luck, and always smelled like cinnamon. No one knew why—he didn’t even own cologne. He had been raised by his mother, and had a knack for being able to talk his way out of any situation.
Neither of them did much work. Gonzo was there because his dad had made a few phone calls. Dante was there because he was a legacy applicant. Did either of them care all that much for academia? No, they did not.
Dante had shown a strong business acumen from the start, but had paid very little attention during his business courses, preferring instead the spontaneity of entrepreneurship.
For his part, Gonzo’s only prerogative was not to flunk out, and let me tell you—it was a near thing. He coasted through college on Ds, and always had a flask hidden somewhere on his person—it was rare for him to wake up without a hangover. The fact that he graduated at all was really quite impressive, and may or may not have been due to some of Dante’s sleight of hand and some final exam grades.
Despite their differences, he and Dante always got along swimmingly. Gonzo was a relatively fun drunk, always telling stories, and making jokes. He was up for almost anything, to include Dante’s harebrained schemes. Dante would always require some sort of capital to make them happen, and Gonzo’s willingness to provide funding became the foundation of their relationship.
Gonzo’s dad knew he was no good at school, and simply asked Gonzo to graduate, no matter the cost. “No matter the cost,” ended up meaning free use of his personal credit card. Needless to say, Gonzo and Dante got up to frequent shenanigans.
After graduation, they’d gone their separate ways to shoulder their family businesses. Dante’s father ran a bank; Gonzo’s brother, a mechanic’s shop. Dante became an entry level manager; Gonzo took over the shop when his brother died two years later. Dante found he always got the numbers to work in his favor, and Gonzo learned he actually had some talent for fixing cars, as well as for being a general handyman.
Dante still usually had some sort of borderline ponzy scheme he was working on, and Gonzo still hadn’t quite learned his lesson about providing funds upon request.
In fact, six months ago, Dante had talked him into investing again. Gonzo had given in, and had lost four thousand dollars.
He was pretty bitter about it. He felt he’d given Dante more than enough over the course of the past six years. In a flash of rage, he’d told Dante to stop contacting him.
You can understand, then, why Gonzo was less than excited to receive Dante’s text.
As per usual, Dante was promising the moon and stars.
“This is it, man!” he texted him. “This isn’t just an investment opportunity—this is a job opportunity! I need a partner! Text me back!”
Rolling his eyes, Gonzo looked back down at his quarterly financial numbers.
God, he hated working with finances. It was dreary work, to be sure. But it was also dependable, and honest. He would rather be doing this than chasing some harebrained scheme with Dante.
It didn’t matter that his job made him feel dead inside, that he never got to party or go out anymore, or that he felt particularly ill-suited to working in a mechanic’s shop after going to such a high-brow university. Surely, after his tune spent there, he was worth more than a place like this.
He sniffed, looked around, and picked up his phone.
Hm, he thought to himself. Dante did sound different. Was it possible? Could he have finally stumbled upon that golden opportunity that really would make both of them rich?
But as soon as he re-read the text, their previous misadventures popped into his mind.
No, Dante was Dante.
He was Gonzo, and neither of them was ever going to change.
He took the flask out of his desk drawer, and took a swig. He was going to need it in order to get through these finance reports.
Turning his phone off, he put his head in his hands, shoved his phone deep into his pocket, and kept working.