Lord of the Gadflies - some compare modern times to the time of Sodom and Gomorrah, but a closer look at that biblical story raises a question about their point - Brief Article

Humanist, July, 1999 by Donna Renae

It's just like Sodom and Gomorrah," the letters to the editor exclaim. "And you know what the Lord did to those cities!"

As the clock ticks toward the new millennium, doomsayers across the nation are falling over themselves to point out alleged similarities between our modern age of relative tolerance and the earliest of biblical times. Forgetting the promise of the rapture and individual salvation, Mr. and Mrs. Cranky America doggedly insist the whole country is headed to hell in a handbasket if we don't clean up our act and demand our elected officials in Washington, D.C., do the same.

But hasn't humankind been through all this before? Twice, to be exact. Never mind. The third millennium's a charm, and this time ordinary believers know how to read and write. But what exactly is the moral of the Genesis 19 story these party-poopers say is supposed to magically prevent our destruction? Let's take a look.

It's a long time ago. The future father of a great nation, Abraham, and his nephew Lot have split up the family business after their herdsmen couldn't stop bitching at one another. Lot is settled in the city of Sodom. Then one day, the Lord pronounces that the outcry (read media hype) against the sinful cities of Sodom and Gomorrah to be so great that he's going to check it out for himself.

With this news, Abraham realizes Lot is up a creek without a paddle and suggests that God spare Sodom if, after some nosy angels take a look around, fifty righteous people are found to be living there. The two haggle a while, back and forth, until finally Abraham talks God down to just ten non-wicked inhabitants. Abraham, who already has an illegitimate son, wants to make sure he doesn't throw out the baby with the bathwater here (that, or he's making a little moral wiggle room for himself). So off the Lord's snoops go ... la la la.

In no time they meet Lot and his family, who invite the angels in for cookies. But right on their heels is a horny mob that wants to have sex with the out-of-towners (the angels looked like Tom Cruise and Mel Gibson, I guess, so who can blame them). But Lot says, "No, take my daughters instead. They're virgins, and you can do what you like with them." Nice going, Dad! "Nope," the mob says, "we want the hunks," and they start forcing their way in.

That's when the angels decide, "We've seen enough. This place is toast!" and they hurry out Lot and his family while striking the party-crashers blind. But as the good guys all flee up a hill, Mrs. Lot disobeys the angels' explicit command not to look back at the burning city. For that, she is turned into a pillar of salt and becomes the first Spice Girl. End of story.

Or is it? Turns out Lot and his lovely daughters were too afraid to integrate themselves back into society after this little episode and instead formed their own militia and went to live in a cave on a mountain. As they grew older, they got pretty lonely. And so one night the ladies got dear old dad drunk and, next thing you know, Lot is the father--or would that be grandfather?--of two sons. These boys become the patriarchs of the Moabites and the Ammonites. Later, both tribes are annihilated in great Joshuan tradition.

So, by citing this tale, what do you think the Chicken Littles of the world are really telling us?

* That there will be no righteous people left to prevent our--and their--destruction.

* God bargains.

* Moral absolutes don't apply to everyone (see also the stories of David and Solomon).

* Incest and adultery are acceptable ways of preserving a man's family line.

* Women can be used as currency, shields, or seasoning.

With values and standards like these, I say bring on the burning sulfur!

Donna Renae is a freelance television and radio reporter in the Wilmington, Delaware, area.