A Story of God and All of Us

PART ONE

A MAN NAMED ABRAHAM

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Thousands of years ago, in the city of Ur, in modern-day Iraq, lives a man named Abram. He is a direct descendant of Noah, eight generations on, through the lineage of Shem. Abram is a vigorous seventy-five years old, with broad shoulders and a flowing beard barely flecked in gray. His wife Sarai is known far and wide for her great beauty, even though she is of the same generation as Abraham. The one sadness of their otherwise charmed life is that Sarai has not been able to bear children. One could never detect this sorrow from Abram's behavior. He is always quick with a smile, and forever has a "Peace be with you" on his lips.

Abram enters the great temple in Ur, where he is greeted warmly by friends.

Ur is a city of many gods, and the temple walls are covered in elaborate symbols--an owl, a crescent moon, a snake, and the peaceful smile of a goddess. All around Abram, noisy worshippers gyrate and sway, consumed by the rhythm of a procession entering through the grand doors. A brightly painted wooden statue carried atop a litter is set down on a low altar, to which a live goat is tethered. The crowd chants louder and louder as a temple priest draws his sacrificial knife. The noise is deafening--shrieks, chants, thunderous cheers. The priest grabs the back of the goat's head and pulls it upward to expose the neck.

Abram would normally be absorbed in the ritual, but on this day, he hears a voice he has never heard before. It is speaking only to Abram; no one else in the temple can hear it.

"Abram." It is the voice of God. "Leave your country, your people, and your father's household, and go to the land I will show you."

Abram gazes up to the sky, his mouth open in shock as the unmistakable voice of God makes spectacular promises in exchange for the enormous demand.

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The priest has cut the goat's throat, and presses his knife deep into its soft belly to reveal its liver. Abram sees none of that.

"I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you. I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse. And all the peoples on earth will be blessed through you."

A lesser man would be puzzled. Or perhaps fearful. But Abram hears the call, which is why God picked him for the task He has in mind, just as He once chose the upright Noah. Abram stands in the frenzied temple, where the priest now holds aloft the goat's liver, not an ounce of doubt in his veins.

"Yes," Abram softly tells God, in a voice brimming with passion. "Yes."

It's one thing for God to instruct a man to leave his homeland, his friends, and the very lineage that has coursed through his family for generations, and it is another for a man to deliver this stunning news to his wife. Abram races home from the temple, eager to tell Sarai. He steps into their courtyard and sees his beloved nephew, Lot.

"Abram," Lot greets him.

Abram slaps a friendly hand on his shoulder and steps briskly toward the front door.

Lot's wife stands to one side of the courtyard, cleaning, as Abram sweeps through. She and her husband exchange curious looks: they recognize something is different about Abram. Very different. They both shrug.

Inside, Abram calls, "Sarai," and then yells: "Sarai!"

He finds his wife in the back of the house, kneeling before a small clay figurine.

Abram's voice is tender and comforting. "Fertility dolls? Fertility dolls? Do we really have need of fertility dolls? What use have they been? Have they brought us children?"

Sarai weeps, thinking she hears disappointment in his voice. "Abram, I've failed you. It is my fault we have not been blessed."

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Abram remembers his good news, and takes his wife into his arms. "Sarai, we are blessed. Today, God has spoken to me."

"Which God?"

" The God."

Sarai pulls back, confused. Theirs is a world of many different gods and idols, each designed to fulfill a specific need. Placing faith in just one god is a tremendously risky act.



"I speak the truth," Abram promises. "He has chosen me. Chosen us ."

"For what? I do not understand."

"He wants us to leave here."

"Leave? But our whole life is here."

"Yes, Sarai. Leave. We are going away from this city to a new land. And we will have children in that new land. Of that I am sure. God has promised."

Sarai wants to believe Abram. She desperately wants a child, and she would do anything to present her husband with a son. But the prospect of leaving their home and setting off into the wilderness is almost more than she can bear. She looks hard at Abram, torn by her love for him and her fears of what might happen if they leave the safety and security of Ur.

Abram understands. He is a compassionate man who loves his wife more than life itself. But he also knows they must do God's will. "Believe me, Sarai. Believe me. He spoke to me. Sarai, He promised. Think about that: God made me a promise. A covenant. And God always keeps His promises.

We must have faith that He will lead us to a land of wonder."

Sarai has always believed that there was something remarkable about her husband. He is not the sort to make delusional claims. Although he is asking her to do something extraordinary, something unimaginable, she knows she must trust him.

Sarai squeezes Abram's hand and smiles. "Take us there."

Abram sets out with Sarai, his nephew Lot and his wife, and a small army of friends and servants that form their extended family. Among them is 12

Sarai's young servant girl, an Egyptian named Hagar. They travel north and west, following the ancient roads of what we now call the Fertile Crescent, trusting God to lead them to the land He has promised Abram. Their journey takes them through a city known as Haran and finally to a bountiful land of water and palm trees that offers a green oasis in an otherwise barren desert.

But the land is not enough for all of Abram's party and their animals. Making matters worse, seeds of dissension are sown by Lot's wife, a jealous and small-hearted woman who chafes at Abram's authority for forcing her to relocate. It soon becomes a standoff, with Abram and his followers on one side, and the followers of his beloved nephew Lot on the other.

The situation finally explodes when two shepherds start a fight. Each believes the other is intruding on his grazing land. They roll in the dust, punching and gouging at one another. Lot sees them first. He races to the fight, his wife a few steps behind.

"Lemuel!" Lot yells to his shepherd. "Stop! Now!"

Lemuel reluctantly releases his hold on Amasa, one of Abram's shepherds.

Amasa sneaks in one last punch and then dances back before Lemuel can retaliate. Both men gasp for air, their robes covered in dust and their faces scratched and bloodied.

Abram has heard the commotion and arrives on the scene. "What is happening here?" he asks.

"Your shepherd is stealing our grazing land," Lot's wife hisses.

"We need grazing land to feed our families," Amasa insists.

"So do we," argues Lemuel, who clenches his fists, ready to fight once more.

"This land belongs to all of us," Abram calmly tells the men. "God gave it to us to share."

Lot's wife is furious. She glares at Abram. "Then He should have given us more of it," she tells him. A stunned silence settles over the group. Not only is Lot's wife mocking Abram, she is also mocking God. She should

apologize, or at the very least ask forgiveness. But she's not done.

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"This can't go on," she tells Abram, before giving her husband a hard look.

"Tell him what we've decided."

Lot is uncomfortable. He loves Abram like a father and cannot bear the thought of disappointing him. He swallows hard before saying what he must say. "Abram," he mutters hesitantly. "There are too many of us. And there just isn't enough land."



"But the Lord will provide," Abram replies, trying his best to appear upbeat.

"Have faith!"

"In a God we cannot see?" laughs Lot's wife.

Abram pretends he doesn't hear those words. He looks into Lot's eyes.

His nephew will not meet Abram's gaze. "It's time to go our separate ways,"

Lot tells him.

Abram is horrified. "No. We must stay together."

Lot is about to speak, but his wife interrupts. "Stay and starve, old man? Stay and watch our shepherds kill each other over a blade of grass?"

This time Abram acknowledges Lot's wife, but only with a steely gaze. As loving as Abram can be, and despite his gentle reputation, he is also a hard man. Lot's wife withers under his glare, and her cutting tongue is instantly silent.

"Uncle," Lot says reluctantly. "We're leaving. We have no choice."

"But where will you go?" Abram says pleadingly.

"To the greener pastures, closer to Sodom."

"Lot, that is a cruel and wicked city. Those people have turned their backs on God."

"But at least they are not starving," Lot's wife snarls.

Abram stands alone on the top of a hill from which he can see miles in every direction. He is building an altar to honor God. Stone by stone, he builds, lost in the quiet meditation of labor. He sees the tents of his people in the half-empty valley below, the flocks settling in for the night, the great forests. He also sees Lot and his tribe in the distance snaking

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their way to the east, toward Sodom. It is a sad moment. The great land is bathed in the red light of dusk. Abram sighs. He loves this Promised Land that God has provided for him, and he revels in its many beauties. God spoke to him again after Lot's departure. Abram had listened like an obedient servant. "Lift up your eyes from where you are, and look north and south, east and west. All the land that you see I will give to you and your offspring forever."

Abram did as God told him, and building the altar for offering a sacrifice is a way to give thanks. But there is still a great deal of conflict in Abram's heart.

He is deeply troubled by the departure of Lot, and of Sarai's recent use of fertility idols once again. Doubts about his leadership torment him daily.

To Abram, being chosen by God had seemed like a blessing. But now he knows it also means struggle. Abram places one last stone at the foot of the altar and then kneels in prayer. Weeks pass, and Abram continues to miss Lot. One day while in prayer at the altar, he gazes down upon the valley again, and is surprised to see a lone figure walking his way. It appears to be Lemuel, Lot's shepherd. And while he's still far away, Abram can see that he's limping and clutching his side.

Abram races down the mountain and walks quickly to the approaching figure. Lemuel staggers toward him, close to exhaustion. His clothes are in tatters. Dried blood covers his skin. His face is bruised and dirty. When he sees Abram, he stops and sways on his feet, as if about to collapse.

"What happened?" asks a stunned Abram.

"We didn't stand a chance. There were so many of them." Lemuel groans, sinking to the ground. "We got caught in a fight between local warlords. My flock is gone. Every last one."

Abram takes his goatskin from around his neck and hands it to the shepherd, who greedily drinks the water. He waits until Lemuel is through before asking his next question. He stares deeply into Lemuel's eyes, not once pausing to look away.

Lemuel knows what is on Abram's mind, and as he hands back the

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goatskin his voice becomes choked in grief. "Lot is alive," he says. "But he is their prisoner."

Abram is horrified.

"He helped me escape," Lemuel continues, "so that I could find you and



come beg for your help."

Hagar, bright with youth and vitality, arrives with a bowl of water. She drips a cloth in the water and wrings it out, then opens Lemuel's tunic and swabs a gash in his side. As Lemuel winces with pain, he does not turn away from Abram. "You are our only hope," says the shepherd.

Later that night, Abram holds a council in his tent with Sarai and the families that came with him in search of their new home. The subject is war. "We will fight. We have many trained men among us," Abram tells the gathering.

"But Abram, my beloved," Sarai interrupts anxiously, "you are hardly soldiers."

"It doesn't matter. I made Lot come with us. I told him to trust in God."

"But Lot and his wife had their pick of the land. It was their choice to leave!"

Abram's mind is already made up. "They are family," he tells Sarai. "We have to help them."

The wife of Amasa, the combative shepherd, shakes her head. She is about to speak, to tell Abram that rescuing Lot would be folly. But before she can say a word, Amasa places a finger to her lips. He then stands and walks to Abram's side. The other men join him.

"We will return," Abram promises Sarai. He glances around at his brave men as they quickly prepare for battle and say good-bye to their families, not knowing if they will ever come back. Sarai is anxious and wraps her arms tightly around Abram's waist. She has tears in her eyes.

"I love you," she says.

Abram pulls away without saying a word. His love for Sarai is understood.

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He is a solid man and a good husband. Abram reaches for his sword, whose sharpened blade gleams in the firelight. He holds the sword aloft to examine it for signs of weakness. His fists are strong and his forearms powerful.

Seeing no imperfections in the sword, he slides it into his belt. "God will take care of us," he assures his wife.



There is power in his words, and the confidence in Abram's eyes makes Sarai's heart swell with pride, despite her fear. She places her hand softly on his face and pulls her to him. She kisses him desperately, knowing that this might be the last time.

Abram looks deeply into her eyes, then pulls away and steps out into the night. There's no time to waste.

Abram and his ragtag army creep carefully toward the enemy encampment.

There would be guards posted if this was wartime, and the cooking fires would have long ago been extinguished. But these soldiers have just routed their foes, sending them fleeing into the hills and tumbling into the Valley of Siddim's tar pits. This is a time to make merry. They sit around their fires laughing and drinking. The prisoners they have elected not to kill sit in a circle on the ground, hands tied behind their backs. Lot's wife is being prodded with a spear by their guard. She cries out in pain, which only makes the soldiers leer in delight. Their time away from home and the comforts of a woman has been long. One, perhaps many, of these men will have their way with her tonight. Lot is tied up, his mouth tightly gagged, and forced to watch these men ogle and humiliate his beloved wife. His attempts to cry out in protest are fruitless, and only amuse the guards.

Abram sees all this from the perimeter of the camp. The size of his household has grown since he followed God's orders and set off in search of a new land. His army is made up of shepherds, some 318 of them. They are hardly soldiers of war, but are all skilled with a knife or an axe from years of chasing wolves away from their flocks.

Their enemies, on the other hand, number in the thousands. They are 17

hard men, with scars and muscles earned from long days on the march and countless hours in hand-to-hand combat. These foes are trained and disciplined, and have just conquered the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah and their armies. Their bellies are full, and they are well rested. An attack on their camp would be suicide.

But Abram knows that his men have two things on their side: the element of surprise, and his deep faith in God.

As his men spread out along the camp's perimeter in the dead of night, Abram prays. He asks for God's blessing on their battle, and that he might have strength and confidence as he leads his brave men. As he prays, he can smell lamb being grilled on cook fires, wood smoke, pungent unwashed men, and the heavy, dusty aroma of the night itself. The smells make the battle more immediate. A still, small voice in his head reminds him that there is time to turn around and leave. Lot and his wife made a bad choice by abandoning Abram. No one would call Abram a coward for turning back now that the odds are apparent. Abram quiets that voice and finishes his prayer.

He draws his sword, raises it into the air, and slices it in a forward motion--

the signal for his men to stealthily launch their attack. A silent wave of shepherd soldiers floods into the enemy camp.

"Trust in God!" Abram roars. His army attacks. Abram and his men are clearly illuminated in the cooking fires. Abram draws first blood, plunging his sword deep into the stomach of an enemy soldier. The soldier cries out in agony, in an instant every head in camp turns their way. "Raaaaaaghh!"

Abram screams, pulling his sword from the dead man and swinging

immediately at another enemy soldier.

Others join the battle cry. A sword cuts the air next to Abram's face, missing him by inches. He pulls back, then plunges his sword into the man's side.

The camp breaks out in chaos, as the enemy soldiers race for their weapons. In the confusion, the enemy cannot reach their tents to get their swords or knives. Abram and his men mow them down like grain being harvested, slashing and punching at the enemy. Abram was right about his surprise attack.

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Abram steps over a pile of bodies toward where Lot is being held prisoner.

"God is with us!" Abram whispers in his nephew's ear, as he slices the rope binding Lot's hands.

By now, the battle is turning into a rout. Enemy soldiers are running into the night. Many are chased down and killed by Abram's men, who know all too well that if these men are not slain they will ultimately come back and exact their revenge.

Lot's wife comes to her husband's side. She pulls him close and whispers to him, avoiding Abram's gaze.

"Lot," cries an ecstatic Abram. "Now do you see? So few against so many!

This is a triumph for our mighty God."

But now Lot cannot meet Abram's gaze.

"What is it?" asks Abram. His gut tells him bad news is coming. But what bad news could they give him now, after this great victory?

Lot pauses, then looks downward at his wife, who nods. "Abram... Uncle...,"

Lot stammers. These are the toughest words he has ever had to utter: "We're carrying on."

Abram looks from one to the other in confusion. "To where?" he asks.

"Sodom."

"Sodom! You can't possibly be serious."

"We're going back into the city to live. We're better off there."

Abram's face darkens. This is not a look Lot has seen often, and he knows to fear it. Abram sweeps his arm wide, showing the bodies of the fallen. He knows them all by name. He knows their wives and their children, and knows that upon returning he must personally deliver the news of their deaths. They all fought well. It was a good fight. A just fight. Lot's decision renders it all in vain. Abram feels a deep sadness in his heart when he speaks: "Lot, hear me when I say this: men have died to save you."

"I know! And there is no way I can repay their loss. But I have lost men, too,"

rationalizes Lot.

"You would have been dead by morning," Abram tells him. "Your wife 19

would have been the trophy of some unwashed soldier--and many of his friends. Don't tell me about the men you lost."

"Uncle, look, your God has not kept His promises. We can't eat faith. We can't drink faith. Faith will not clothe us."

"But it will, Lot. And God is fulfilling His promises, Lot. Didn't you see? My small army of untrained shepherds defeated a mighty force. How else would this be possible? I beg of you: come with us!"



"Why?" Lot's wife boldly steps forward. "What has your God promised?"

"A nation! A future! A family! A son!" replies Abram. He believes every syllable.

"Your wife will never bear a son," she sneers.

The words pierce him, and a devastated Abram remains silent.

Lot's wife continues: "What about food? Water? Shelter?"

Abram ignores her. He is exhausted. The battle rattled his nerves. And now this? He places his hand on Lot's shoulder. "Nephew. This time. We must stay together."

Lot's eyes are downcast, but his mind is made up. He places his hand on Abram's, and then gently removes it from his shoulder. "No, Uncle. We must go."

As the bodies of the wounded are loaded onto carts for the ride back home, Lot's wife tries to rationalize with Abram. "Come with us ," she offers.

Abram looks deep into her eyes for what seems like an eternity. Then he turns in disgust and walks past his men. "Let's go," he orders them over his shoulder. Abram and his soldiers leave.

The air is heavy. Lot and his wife stand silently amid the slain enemy, knowing Abram will never again trust Lot.

Abram doesn't turn back. Instead, he sets his mind to the grieving widows he must console and the dead friends he will have to bury. The hardest part will be facing Sarai, and trying to explain to her how he could have let Lot and his wife continue on to Sodom after the staggering

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cost his men paid to rescue them. She has always trusted in his wisdom, but this time, Abram knows, he has let her down.

God has promised Abram a land flowing with milk and honey, and

descendants as numerous as the stars. Abram's faith never wavers. He immediately does as God asks. He truly believes in God and His promises.

Yet he has become frustrated by God's timetable. When will Sarai bear him a son? Or any child, for that matter? Abram's beard is now almost completely gray. And though aged, Sarai's beauty is still beyond compare--she is the living embodiment of a princess. The shared adventure of their nomadic lifestyle is enhanced by their many attempts to have a child, but the idea that Abram will truly be the father of many nations seems hopeless.

Abram stands alone in the cold desert night, staring up into the sky. A campfire burns down to its final embers. Wind rattles the tent behind him, where Sarai shivers as she sleeps. He thinks of the men slain in battle while rescuing Lot, and the futility of their loss.

"Abram," whispers Sarai, shivering as she emerges from the tent. The firelight illuminates her beauty. She is wrapped in a thick blanket woven of coarse fabric that protects her from the desert winds. But even covered by a blanket, her beauty takes Abram's breath away. "Come inside," she says lovingly, holding open the tent flap.

Abram is shivering. He sees the inside of the tent, and their bed, so warm and safe. But instead he turns from his wife, gazes up into the sky, and considers the enormity of the universe above and its millions of stars, as if comprehending the vast scope of God's creation for the first time.

Then he collapses.

"Abram!" Sarai screams, racing to him. When she looks into his eyes she sees nothing but his deep belief in God's promise.

"All the stars. Count them! Count them!" he shouts.

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Sarai cradles his head, terrified that her beloved husband is losing his mind.

She strokes his beard to calm him.

"Our Creator, who made the stars, will give us that many descendants!" he says with complete faith, reminding himself as much as Sarai of God's promises. The fire in Abram's eyes grows brighter as his revelation continues to unfold. "To populate our land! For us! And for our children!"

Now it is Sarai's turn to be downcast. "How long have we been praying for children?"

He doesn't answer.

She looks straight into his eyes and says three very hard words: "I. Am.

Barren."

"But he has promised! You will have a child! You will!"

She shakes her head. "I can't. I won't. There is no chance for me to carry a child."

They hold a look between them. The silence is deafening. Finally Sarai speaks, slowly, softly, deliberately. "It is too late for me, but you are a man.

For you there is still a chance." Sarai bites her lip. She pulls her husband closer. "God's plans are many, and His promises will always be kept--but in His own way. Who is it for us to say how God's plans will be fulfilled?"

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying that God has promised that you will be a father. He has not promised that I will be the one to bear your children."

Sarai nods toward the tent of Hagar, the beautiful Egyptian servant. The light of a candle flickers inside the tent. "Go to her, Abram," says Sarai. "Go with my permission."

Abram looks at his wife in disbelief. "No," he says firmly. "No. No. No."

Sarai nods, looking resigned. "Yes," she says, kissing him gently. "You must."

Abram is torn. He has always been faithful to Sarai, believing it to be 22

God's will that he sleep with no other woman. He has noticed Hagar's beauty but never once imagined sleeping with her.

Sarai cannot look at her husband as she gently pushes him toward her tent.

"You need an heir," she says softly. "God has promised you a child. Now go."

Abram pulls Sarai's face to his, kisses her full on the lips, and pulls her body to his, so that she knows without a doubt that she is his true love. Then he slowly rises to his feet and walks to Hagar's tent. It is small, befitting her





lower social status, the fabric not as bright or durable as theirs. She is from a different land, of other gods. Abram does not know God's ways. Perhaps God wants Abram to unite these other nations by fathering a child whose blood is mixed and whose lineage will blend the two separate religious traditions. He pulls aside the flap to Hagar's tent and steps inside.

The beautiful, barren Sarai takes a seat by the fire. A tear slowly falls from her cheeks as she stares into the flames.

As Abram emerges from Hagar's tent Sarai can see through the open flap that Hagar is asleep. Sarai is still sitting by the fire, slowly rocking herself back and forth. Sarai's eyes meet Abram's. Hers are puffy, and tears still roll down her cheeks. Both Abram and Sarai feel something is amiss, a heavy wrong weighs upon their hearts. Despite their best intentions, they may have been hasty, not trusting God.

Abram sees his wife's tears of jealousy and regret. She is not happy to have shared her husband with another woman. If he has indeed planted a child in Hagar, Sarai will never have Abram to herself again. Every time she looks at that child she will think of this night, this raw feeling of loss beating within her breast, and know she would give anything to do this night over again.

Abram is distraught. What's done is done, he tells himself. Momentarily, he sets aside the hard truth that he has forced God's promise of a child to take place on his own timetable, rather than trust in God's plan.

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He pulls his shirt tight around his body and walks into their tent. His path takes him right by Sarai, who continues to stare into the fire.

His short time in Hagar's tent on this clear desert night will alter the world forever.

Fourteen years pass.

Ishmael, the son of Abram and Hagar, is now thirteen years old. The boy is everything a father could want from a son: compassionate, loving, funny, strong, and handsome. Sarai doesn't always share Abram's joy. Whenever she looks at Ishmael she is reminded of that night so long ago when both she and Abram showed their lack of faith, tried to force God's promise and take matters into their own hands. What has gone through Sarai's mind again and again since that night is: God can do all things. That means He can make a barren woman pregnant, no matter what her age. She has known this all along. She should have trusted God's promise. She should have waited.

Abram is now ninety-nine years old. Sarai is ninety. They now live in an oasis near a place called Mamre--amid palm, cedar, and fig trees, and clear running water--still dwelling in the tents they have called home for so many years. This is not paradise, nor is it the land Abram envisioned when he and his followers struck out on their own so many years ago. There is plenty of dissension among his people, beginning with Sarai and Hagar. Everytime Sarai sees Hagar and Ishmael she feels a searing stab of pain in her heart.

She is bitter. One hot afternoon, as Abram sits before his tent, the Lord appears to him. "I am God Almighty," he tells Abram, who falls facedown on the ground.

"I will confirm my covenant between me and you," God continues. "And I will greatly increase your numbers."

God orders that Abram change his name to "Abraham," which means "father of many nations." From now on, Sarai will be called "Sarah," for "princess."

God also orders that all males of his tribe, which some call "Hebrews," be circumcised. The circumcision is a sign of the covenant

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between God and man, and a daily physical reminder of God's presence in their lives. Even Abram, at such an old age, must now have the foreskin sliced from his penis.

And then God makes an outrageous promise to Abraham: Sarah will give birth to a son. "She will be the mother of nations. Kings of peoples will come down from her."

Abraham laughs at the idea. He does not believe that Sarah can give birth.

But God insists, and says that a long line of earthly kings will be brought forth from this lineage.

The words settle on Abraham's heart, filling him with a joy he has never known. He cannot wait to tell Sarah. And even though it feels utterly impossible that a man his age can father a child, Abraham also reminds himself that God can do anything--even bring this child into the world.

Abraham turns to God to offer his thanks. But God has already gone.

One day not long after, Abraham is practicing the bow and arrow with his son. Ishmael is a good shot, and he hits the target with ease.

"Well done, my boy," Abraham says proudly. He calls to Sarah: "Did you see Ishmael, Sarah? Did you see my boy?"

" 'My boy.' Not ' our boy,' " she whispers disdainfully under her breath. The old lady storms off into the tent. Abraham sighs. He has gotten used to the constant tension.

"Run along, Ishmael," he tells the boy. Hagar is off to one side, watching the scene with a mother's pride. She is happy that her boy will be Abraham's rightful heir, and she cares little about the tension between herself and Sarah.

Abraham stops to pick up the arrows and sees three powerful and

mysterious men in the distance walking toward his camp. They wear robes made of fine fabric. On two of the men he can see the outlines of weapons beneath their garments, yet they do not appear menacing. Instead, they have the quietly intense presence of holy men. Abraham feels an instant connection with them, and as is his custom, he enjoys playing the part of the good host. Yet these men are somehow different,

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and he treats them with more respect. Travelers--mostly wanderers, wayfarers, vagabonds--pass through Abraham's camp all the time and receive only water and basic hospitality.

Abraham's instincts are correct. Two of the men are angels. The third is God disguised in flesh. Abraham has heard God's voice but does not recognize Him.

"Welcome," says Abraham. "You are most welcome. Please sit down." He indicates a spot where they can rest in the shade.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. Without waiting for an answer, Abraham orders a



servant to bring food.

"Have you traveled far?" Abraham continues.

"Yes, a very long way," answers one of the angels. A long silence ensues.

"Where is your wife?" asks the other angel.

Abraham points to their tent. "In there."

Inside the fabric walls of their tent, Sarah hears strange voices, but she is weary and in no mood to entertain travelers.

The Lord then speaks and makes an audacious prediction: "I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son."

Sarah laughs to herself as she overhears this. Surely this man, whoever he is, does not know that Abraham's wife is very advanced in age and barren.

"Why did you laugh?" the Lord says to her.

Sarah almost jumps out of her skin. She whirls around to see who is speaking to her, but no one is in the tent. I didn't laugh , she thinks to herself.

"You did," the Lord says. His voice is kind. Once again, Sarah spins quickly to see who is playing this trick. But she is alone.

God continues: "So you will never forget how you doubted me when you have a son, you will name him Isaac, which means 'laughter.' "

Sarah feels the power of God and is overcome with hope. Tears stream down her face. She rushes to where she hides her fertility dolls, and 26

grasps one tightly in her hands until it crumbles to dust. As the grains of clay slip through her fingers, she falls to her knees and thanks God.

The time comes for the three strangers to leave. Abraham has treated them with extreme kindness and deference. He has brought them water to wash the road dust off their feet. He has cooked them a fatted calf and fed them a sumptuous meal featuring curds, milk, and thin loaves of bread. These powerful, mysterious strangers are special, and Abraham has reveled in the honor of their presence. He referred to himself as their servant, and even stood off to one side as they dined, waiting to be summoned. The men have maintained their air of mystery, saying little else after their audacious prediction, as they enjoyed the food and the cool of the shade. As the afternoon sun grows cool they stand to depart.

"Where are you going?" Abraham asks cautiously, still unaware of whom he has been entertaining.

One of the angels looks to God for permission to answer.

God nods.

"We are going to decide the fate of Sodom," the angel replies solemnly, pulling his hood back up over his head. The other angel does the same, and they depart, leaving God alone with a concerned Abraham, for Lot lives in Sodom.

God walks with Abraham to a mountaintop, where they can look out and see Sodom in the distance.

"Shall I hide from you what I am going to do?" the Lord wonders aloud. "You will surely become a great and powerful nation, and all nations on earth will be blessed through you. For I have chosen him so that you will direct your children and your household after you to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just, so that I will bring about for you what I have promised."

Abraham is stunned to realize that he stands in the presence of God. It can be no one else. This is the manner in which God has spoken to him so many times--honestly, and as a trusted friend and servant. And

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Abraham is just as stunned to realize that the destruction of Sodom will mean the death of Lot. Despite their differences, Abraham loves Lot like a son, and is in dread for his safety.

Abraham musters up his courage and speaks to the Lord. "Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked?"

"If I find fifty righteous people in the city of Sodom, I will spare the whole city for their sake," replies God.



Abraham considers that for a moment. He knows the ways of Sodom, which is the most evil of cities. He doubts there is a realistic chance of God finding ten righteous people, let alone fifty. So he takes a deep breath and speaks once again. "Now that I have been so bold as to speak to the Lord, though I am nothing but dust and ashes, what if the number of righteous is five less than fifty?"

The Lord loves Abraham, and their covenant is a powerful bond. So for the sake of Abraham, he relents. "If I find forty-five good men, I will not destroy it."

Abraham grows bolder, striving desperately to save Lot. "What if only forty are found there?"

"For the sake of forty I will not do it."

"May the Lord not be angry, but let me speak," Abraham says uneasily.

"What if only thirty can be found there?"

"I will not do it if I find thirty there."

On it goes, Abraham bargaining for the people of Sodom while the Lord gently concedes, until Abraham reduces the number to ten righteous people.

The Lord leaves. Abraham stands alone on the road, despairing for Sodom and his nephew. Because he knows, just as God knows, that his bold haggling with God is for naught. For there are not ten righteous people in all of Sodom.

In fact, there is just one.

Of course, God knows that. He has only bargained with Abraham as a testimony to their covenant. Abraham's fears about seeing Sodom destroyed show the depth of his compassion, and God is honoring that. Now it is up to that one righteous man to save himself and his family.

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Lot sits alone at Sodom's city gate. Evening has fallen. The desert outside the walls is pleasant and fragrant, and a stark contrast to the city streets, which smell of stale urine and vomit. Lot loves to breathe the night air just out beyond these city walls. The breeze is cool after the long hot day, and he basks in the calm on this side of the city. He and his wife have two lovely daughters now. The city is infamous for its vice and depravity, a place of idolatry that has not only turned its back on God but celebrates that fact. Lot's wife finds the city very much to her liking, and has refused his numerous requests that they leave. He feels that life is too short to be so distant from God. Lot fears for his daughters, terrified that they will grow up to become as lascivious and faithless as the women of Sodom. It breaks his heart to imagine his gorgeous young girls living a life defined by lust instead of love, of fear instead of faith.

Lot sighs. There is nothing he can do about that. What will be, will be. Until the day his wife chooses to leave Sodom--a day that he believes will come--

Lot must simply endure his life, rather than live it to its fullest.

As Lot sits alone at the city gates, gazing out into the vast desert, he can hear the music and raucous laughter spilling out of the taverns. He can hear the moans of men and women having sex in the dark, dingy alleys. Were he to turn around right now, he would be able to see a barely dressed young couple groping one another, nearly nude prostitutes pushing their wares, a band of drummers entertaining a group of drunks, and a feral dog tied to a post--snarling loudly at all who walk past, and more than eager to bite into human flesh. Hardly the place to raise a family. Lot is an honorable man, which makes him unusual in Sodom. The wickedness of the city troubles him greatly. It is why he comes to the city gates to gaze out into the desert.

Two men in great hooded cloaks march through Sodom's city gate. They are powerfully built and have the placid look of warriors who fear no man. They walk with purpose, as if they have come to Sodom on business. What type of business, Lot can hardly imagine. The two strangers look out of place on these streets. Lot's heartbeat quickens.

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For the first time in quite a while he senses he is not the only righteous man in Sodom. Lot rises quickly and hastens to them. "Gentlemen," Lot exclaims,

"welcome to Sodom. I invite you to spend the night at my home. You can wash your feet and enjoy a meal."

"No," they answer. "We will spend the night in the square."

Lot will not take no for an answer. And soon these spiritual warriors are entering his home, where he feeds them a simple feast before showing them where they will sleep.

Inside Lot's house, a dim oil lamp glows, illuminating the faces of Lot, his wife, his two teenage daughters, and these mysterious strangers.

Lot hears a huge commotion in the streets outside and suddenly, fists hammer on the door. Lot's wife and daughters hug one another, scared.

"Open up! Send out the strangers!" screams a voice. "Or we'll burn the place down!"

"They've done you no harm and they are guests in my house. Leave them be," Lot yells through the thick wooden door.

"Where are the men who came to you tonight?" yells the voice, louder and more insistent than before. "Hand them over to us!"

Then Lot finds great courage within himself. He steps outside to face the people of Sodom, young and old in a mob, one man against many. He tries to reason with them, but they become even more aggressive. Inside, the strangers stand silently, listening to every word and admiring Lot's bravery.

His wife clutches her daughters, wishing that she had never seen these strangers. Her life has once again been turned upside down.

Lot realizes his attempts to negotiate have proven futile and starts to retreat to the safety of his house, but the mob attacks. They surge past him and try to break down the door. Lot fends them off with a shepherd's staff, wielding it expertly. He's like a new man, full of fighting spirit. When the mob's leader grabs the staff and pulls it toward him--a sadistic look in his eyes--Lot doesn't let go, but his courage is no match for this man's strength. "Stay out of this, foreigner," the mob leader says, and spits in Lot's face.

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"Stand aside," says one of the angels. He steps forward and closes his eyes, as if in prayer. The second angel joins him. A sudden, rushing wind fills the room and then spills out into the streets, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. Fear replaces the snarl on the mob leader's face. Lot steps back, unsure of what is happening. The mob leader scratches wildly at his eyes, rubbing and prodding, until tears of blood stream down his face. "I can't see,"

he screams. "I can't see!"

But he is not alone. One by one, the other members of the mob scream in horror as they, too, are blinded. Those who can still see are even more enraged, and they push forward to exact their revenge. But hardly have they taken a step when the two angels shed their robes, revealing the most



incredible suits of armor--honed by a craftsman, stronger than any lance a man might want to thrust through it.

One angel pulls two short swords from his scabbards and wields them like a man who more than knows his way around a blade. The other angel has no need for such subtlety. A great broadsword dangles from his hip, and he knows how to use it. With a single, swift move this angel slides the thick sheet of sharpened steel from his sheath with two hands and makes one of Lot's tormentors pay for his behavior. The man falls to the ground, and the other angel grabs for Lot and his family. "We must go!" the angel says calmly, implying haste.

Lot and his family hesitate; however, they have no choice. The angels forcibly drag them out of the house and pull them along by their shoulders through the mob, not giving them a chance to turn back or slow down. "Don't stop running!" screams the first angel. "Not for any reason." He leads Lot's family through the streets, and the other angel protects them from behind.

The angels slash at the mob with their swords, felling one man after another in their mission to get Lot's family to safety. They know, as God knew when He bargained with Abraham, that the only righteous inhabitants of Sodom are Lot's family. God is about to destroy Sodom. Everyone in the city will die a horrible death, and the city itself will be lost to the ages. Unless Lot and his family get out quickly, they will also suffer this fate.

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Suddenly, flames rain down from the skies. A fireball slams hard into the streets with a sudden wail and clap of thunder. Lot's wife is almost paralyzed with shock and feels the white heat of this incredible explosion, as the second angel forces her to stagger onward.

The mob continues to pursue them as another fireball slams into Sodom.

And then another. The second angel stops running and uses the sharpened tip of his sword to draw a circle around him in in the dirt street. As Lot and his family continue their desperate race to freedom, he takes on all comers, hacking at them as if they were kindling wood.

Meanwhile, on a hillside overlooking Sodom, a horrified Abraham witnesses the flames shooting upward through the buildings as the city begins to burn.

Fireballs continue to rain down from above, joined by lightning and the unnerving boom of thunder.



He fears for Lot and his family as he watches the terror and prays that his nephew will get out alive.

Behind him, unseen, stands God.

Back in Sodom, stone buildings are beginning to col apse. Fire has burned through the wood and the thatch of roofs. Falling beams have trapped many families in their homes, and the screams of those experiencing the agony of flame on bare skin pierces the night.

The second avenging angel has finally defeated all challengers and caught up with Lot's family. The first angel says, "In saving us, you saved yourself.

Your decision to help us was a godly test of your righteousness. Run from the city and continue running. But remember this: Don't look back. Never look back. No matter what."

The angels disappear before the eyes of an amazed Lot and his family. They now stand in complete darkness, save for the light of the moon and the distant fire of a burning Sodom.

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"Keep going," shouts Lot, "and don't look back."

They run and run and run, their feet kicking up the desert dust as they race on to a new life. A monumental burst of lightning suddenly illuminates the sky, cracking down into the remains of Sodom. Then, in one last brilliant explosion, the city is gone. Lot hears his wife gasp. He loves her dearly, but he knows her contrary and prideful behavior. Before she can make the one mistake the angels warned them about, he pleads with her, "Do not look back!"

But her curiosity is insatiable. She absolutely must see for herself what is happening to the city she has called home for more than a decade.

Her last sight is an explosion of light. Her eyes are blinded, her body becomes paralyzed, and she turns into a pillar of salt.

A hard wind blows. Lot stares in disbelief at what used to be his wife. He watches with an all-consuming grief as gusts of air blast the pillar of salt, and pieces soon chip off and disappear into the night. That gale does not stop



blowing until the entire pillar is turned to dust and carried away.

Fearing the same fate, a terrified Lot and his daughters run for their lives.

They don't dare look back. As if chasing them from behind, the continuing screams of the people of Sodom carry across the desert. The dawn breaks as they run. It's the start of a brand-new day, and a brand-new life, for Lot and his daughters. They run and they run and they run, across the desert and up into the safety of the hill country, where they will live for the rest of their days.

Time passes: from Abraham's camp comes the painful howl of a woman enduring the agony of childbirth. Sarah squats inside their tent, tended to by a midwife. Abraham paces nervously outside. He is ecstatic that his wife is bearing him a child.

Sarah's screaming stops, replaced by the sound of a newborn infant breathing its first gulps of air, then squealing so loud that its cries can be heard across the valley.

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As Abraham steps forward to enter the tent, his eyes meet those of Hagar and Ishmael. The teenaged Ishmael is strapping and handsome, and bears a strong resemblance to them both. If the baby is a girl, Ishmael remains first in line of inheritance. If the newborn child is a boy, Ishmael will no longer be Abraham's rightful heir, according to Hebrew tradition.

Abraham pulls back the tent flap. A beaming Sarah holds their child to her breast. Abraham leans down to her. Without saying a word, she hands him the child. Tears well in the corners of his eyes as he holds the baby.

"A boy," Sarah whispers. She is radiant.

"Just as God promised," Abraham marvels. "Just as God promised. Only the Almighty can do the impossible."

Abraham holds the child aloft. "His name will be Isaac." He and Sarah burst into joyous laughter.

Outside the tent, Hagar and Ishmael hear the commotion, and know the baby is a boy without having to be told. Hagar wraps her arm around her son's



waist, seeking to comfort him.

A year passes. The tension in Abraham's encampment grows by the day, though not between Ishmael and Isaac. The silent war for Abraham's attention and affection is between Sarah and Hagar, and each one

begrudges every single instant that he spends with the other. Abraham walks a fine line each day as he tries to keep the peace between these two strong-willed women, but it is never easy. The tent of Abraham and Sarah is always pitched close to that of Hagar and Ishmael, so that the teenage boy can be close to his father. Every single word and gesture that Abraham makes is scrutinized.

Sitting in the shade outside her tent, a most content Sarah softly sings a lullaby to baby Isaac. The air smells of wood smoke from the cooking fires and the dusty tang of the desert. Isaac can walk now and is beginning to form words, but at this moment he is asleep in his cradle. Sarah

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feels that he is the most perfect creation in the world, and she cannot take her eyes off of him. Then she sees Abraham walk into camp and embrace Ishmael when he jumps to his feet and rushes to show off his new bow and arrows. Abraham turns the bow over in his hands, studying it for

imperfections. Seeing none, he musses Ishmael's hair affectionately.

"Good," he tells him, "very good."

Hagar sits on a pillow across from Ishmael, gazing at her son with the same loving expression that Sarah shows to Isaac. For Ishmael, she will do anything.

"Sarah!" he cries out, walking quickly toward their tent. He doesn't see the hurt look on Ishmael's face as he abruptly shifts his attention from the boy to Sarah.

Abraham ducks into the tent and steps inside. Sarah is facing the tent entrance, still hugging Isaac as she sits on a thick pillow. She is in a dark mood--that much Abraham can tell in an instant. "What's wrong?" he asks innocently, even though he knows quite wel what's troubling Sarah.

"That woman thinks her boy is going to inherit what rightfully belongs to Isaac," she hisses.



Abraham once again feigns naiveté--as if the question of inheritance has never crossed his mind. "What do you mean?"

"Who is to be the first of all our tribe, Abraham? The first star of all those stars in the heavens?"

Abraham steps to within inches of his wife so that their words can be private.

"This is not something we need to discuss right now."

"Oh, yes we do. Is it to be our son? Or hers?"

Abraham struggles to respond. "Sarah, I--"

"You decide! Now! Do you understand me?"

Isaac gurgles the word "Ma-ma," as is if he is eager to join the conversation.

Sarah looks hard at her husband. They have been through so much

together, but it is as if she is looking at him for the first time. "Either you decide," she tells him in a steady yet angry voice, "or let God decide." She storms out of the tent, carrying Isaac on her hip.

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Abraham, feeling the considerable weight of that long-ago night with Hagar, sits down and ponders the fate of his two young boys. He prays for God's guidance and receives it. Though he overflows with sadness at the mere thought of it, he knows that he must follow the instructions that God is now placing upon his heart. God tells Abraham to listen to Sarah. The inheritance will go to Isaac. That is God's decision. It means that there is no more place for Hagar and Ishmael in his camp, but God reassures Abraham that they will be taken care of, and that the children of Ishmael will also become a great nation.

Abraham is devastated as he delivers the news that Ishmael will have to go out into the world and make his own fortune, but that does not compare with how he feels as Ishmael and Hagar prepare to set out into the wilderness.

It's morning. Flat bread is turned over a low cooking fire. Hagar slips the two warm loaves into a small sack. Ishmael comes to help. He is quiet and sad, but devoted to his mother. Ishmael will travel in just sandals, a scarf atop his head, and a knee-length robe. Hagar is dressed much the same, but with a



hooded smock that will keep away the desert chill.

Abraham waits at the edge of camp, holding a skin of water. He places the strap over Ishmael's shoulder and let's his hand linger tenderly on his son for a moment. "Good-bye," he mumbles, overcome with sadness, then looks Ishmael in the eye. "My boy, God will one day bless you with many children."

His own eyes fill with tears.

Ishmael says nothing, though his eyes study Abraham's features,

memorizing his father's appearance. The boy is stoic. Sarah stands off in the distance. This is being done at her insistence, and she knows full well that her demands might lead to the deaths of Hagar and Ishmael. She knows she created this problem in the first place by insisting that Abraham sleep with Hagar. So this is her solution. She is surprised to find that she does not take delight in forcing Hagar and Ishmael out. Sarah knows it needs to be done.

This may be a cruel act, but she is not

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a cruel woman. For if this is not done, grave trouble could arise when Abraham's two boys grow to be men.

Abraham and Sarah watch as Hagar and Ishmael begin their journey. One moment, they are specks in the distance, then they disappear.

"Be brave," Hagar tells Ishmael, though she is saying it to herself as well.

The two of them will wander out into the desert alone, yet she trusts God to protect them. Hagar prays to God for help, and God provides it. Less than a week into their journey, they will run out of water, and Hagar will fear for their lives. An angel of the Lord will appear to them at that time, promising that Ishmael will one day become the leader of a great nation. When the angel departs, a well filled with water will suddenly appear to Hagar and Ishmael, saving their lives.

Ten more years pass.

Isaac emerges from his family's tent, with its tasseled doorway and striped fabric walls. He yawns and stretches as he makes his way past the goat pen and over to the cooking fire, where Sarah grinds grain to make flour for the morning bread.

Abraham has been awake for hours. His age is truly beginning to show, and



though he slept the night through, he is extremely tired. Weary. Life has not been the same since he sent Hagar and Ishmael away. Abraham sees his life slipping away. He doesn't feel like the leader God intended him to be. He doesn't feel worthy of God, of the Promised Land, or the prospect that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars. His faith has not wavered, nor has he veered from God's plan since that long-ago night when lack of trust sent him into Hagar's tent. As he gets older with each passing day, Abraham ponders his purpose.

The wind picks up and blows the grain into the fire. The wind grows louder.

Abraham looks all around, and notices that he is all alone. Everyone in the camp, including Sarah and Isaac, has disappeared.

It has been a long time since God spoke to Abraham, but he still knows the voice well. "A sacrifice?" he whispers to God.

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It is common for Abraham to offer sacrifices to God. In a ritual slaughter, an animal's throat is sliced, and then offered up as a sign of thanks. The animal is then burned over an open fire.

God continues telling him the details.

At first Abraham doesn't comprehend what he's hearing. Then, as he realizes what God is saying, he becomes horrified. "No," he whispers.

"Please, no. Haven't I shown enough faith? Dear God, I will make any sacrifice You ask. Anything"--now he can barely speak--"anything but Isaac."

It is God's will. With a heavy heart, Abraham retrieves his best knife from his tent. He and his people are camped at the foot of a great desert peak, Mount Moriah. As the sun rises higher and higher in the sky, Abraham sets off in search of Isaac, his knife firmly secured in the sheath on his waist.

He finds him eating bread with Sarah. "Eat more," she encourages the boy.

"How will you ever grow if you don't eat?" But she stops talking as Abraham draws near. She sees confusion in her husband's eyes--confusion laced with determination. Something is about to happen, of that she is sure.

"Abraham?" she says cautiously.

"God wants a sacrifice," Abraham says, offering a hand to Isaac. He trembles as the boy places his palm in his father's meaty fist. "Come with me," he commands.

"Of course," Isaac says brightly, and then rushes off to gather his bag for the long and arduous trip up the mountain.

Abraham leads his son up Mount Moriah, leaving behind a confused Sarah, who assumes that Abraham will take a sheep from one of the pens to offer as a sacrifice.

Storm clouds are rolling in, and Abraham and Isaac can hear the faint boom of approaching thunder. The two gather wood for a fire along the way, and with each twig and branch that Isaac presents to his father,

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Abraham finds himself more and more distraught about what he is about to do. Isaac, the trusting and obedient son he believed would begin a dynasty, must be killed. Isaac, the son he and Sarah prayed for, must be killed. Isaac, the handsome and brave apple of Abraham's eye, must be killed. God has demanded this beautiful, innocent boy as a sacrifice.

"Father?" Isaac asks, handing him a new handful of twigs.

Abraham takes them. "Good work," he tells his son. "Let's get more."

Soon, the bundle is so thick that Abraham wraps it in rope and straps it to Isaac's back so they can carry it easier. Abraham soon makes another bundle, which he shoulders for the hike to the summit. "Enough sticks," he tells Isaac. "Let's just get up there."

"But why are we going directly the top?" Isaac asks. "We have the firewood for the sacrifice, but we still need to go back down and get the lamb."

Abraham sighs. His heart is heavy. "God will provide the sacrifice, my son."

At the camp, Sarah has become so troubled that she goes to the sheep pen and counts the flock. They are all there. Suddenly, horribly, she realizes Abraham has not taken a lamb with him. She falls to her knees. Could the sacrifice be their beloved son? Could Isaac be the Lamb of God? She rises to chase after them.

Up on the mountain, the storm grows more fierce. The sun, strangely, is completely white, then the sky turns black. Winds swirl. Clouds seem low and thick enough to touch. Abraham knows there can be no greater sacrifice than for a father to offer his son. This is the most difficult test of faith he has ever endured. Abraham loves God, but he is not sure he can do it.

Hands shaking, Abraham sets down the wood and begins making a stone altar. Using the rocks that litter the mountaintop, he carefully arranges a structure on which to lay the sacrifice. Stone by stone, Abraham builds the altar. He has done it countless times in the past, so the work goes quickly.

Once again, Isaac asks, "Father, where is the sacrifice? Will it be a lamb today or a ram?" He is puzzled because they have not brought a small animal with them, and he sees none atop the mountain.

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" Jehovah-jireh, " responds Abraham hopefully, invoking a common phrase meaning, "The Lord will provide."

When the time comes to do what he must do, Abraham powerfully grips his son's hands and begins tying them together with rope. Isaac struggles, but only for a moment. Abraham fixes the boy with a gaze that freezes Isaac on the spot, making him too scared to disobey.

"You must trust God," Abraham says, choking in anguish on the words.

Isaac, in all his confusion, nods. Abraham continues binding Isaac's hands.

He then lifts Isaac and sets him down upon the altar. A fierce wind blows at Abraham. Isaac looks at the knife in his father's hand, terrified. Abraham looks to the sky, uncertain of why he must do what he is about to do. He lifts his knife with two hands, and raises it high above his head. He pauses, knowing he is about to plunge the blade deep into his son's throat.

Isaac looks up, breathing in short, sharp gasps. His eyes are open wide in horror.

Abraham feels his hands tighten around the knife handle. He wants this to be over quickly and painlessly. Isaac must not suffer.

He takes a deep breath and plunges the knife downward.

"Abraham!" a voice calls out to him.





He stops midstrike, the knife precariously frozen a few inches above Isaac.

The voice is that of an angel, whom Abraham sees standing off to one side of the altar, near a bush. "Do not hurt your son," the angel tells him. "You have proved that you have faith in God. The Lord will bless you with descendants as numerous as the stars in the heavens."

Abraham turns from the angel to look at Isaac. Father and son are both crying as he unties the ropes. Isaac looks off to where the angel stood. But the angel is not there anymore.

Instead, as Isaac and Abraham stare in disbelief at the bush, they are stunned to see a small white lamb tangled in its branches. God has delivered the sacrificial lamb.

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Sarah, meanwhile, is racing up the mountain to try and stop Abraham before it is too late. But she is old, and her pace is not fast. In her heart, she fears that the outcome is inevitable, and that she will never see her beloved Isaac again. Her beloved boy, for whom she waited one hundred long years, will be no more. Yet she pushes onward, never once stopping to rest. She breathes heavily and prays for the life of her child. Finally, she takes one final step and reaches the top.

Sarah sees the head, the eyes, and then the beautiful beaming smile of her Isaac. He is alive. Isaac runs to his mother, followed by Abraham. Sarah envelops her boy in her arms, all the while sobbing and shouting praise to God.

Abraham joins in the embrace. His faith in God has been tested, but he has most definitely passed that test.

Years after his death, Abraham's grandsons will found the twelve tribes of Israel--so called because their father, Jacob, is also known as Israel. This does not ensure harmony throughout the land, or even a powerful kingdom, for there is great bitterness and rivalry among the brothers. The greatest portion of that interfamily envy is directed at Joseph, the eleventh son. Jacob makes no secret of that fact that seventeen-year-old Joseph is his favorite.

The other brothers are secretly plotting ways to edge him out.

A symbol of Jacob's love for Joseph is a splendid and expensive

multicolored robe. Jacob lacks the sense to treat all his sons equally. Just as Abraham once discovered, every group, large or small, needs wise

leadership--and this is where Jacob is found wanting. Given to Joseph as a gift, the robe has come to signify all that the brothers loathe about him. It would be wise for Joseph not to wear the robe at all, but he cannot help himself. This only makes his brothers more furious.

Now, in the fields outside the family estate, the brothers gather around 41

Joseph. They trip him, and then circle around him as he lies in the dust.

Simeon, one of the older brothers, angrily pulls at the elaborate coat.

"We'll have that," he demands.

"No," Joseph answers defiantly.

This is followed by the sound of fabric being ripped. All the brothers laugh and pull eagerly at the coat as Joseph cries out in anguish. They push his face down into the dirt. Their sandaled feet kick dust upon him. The situation is rapidly spinning out of control as it becomes obvious that Joseph's brothers mean to do him even greater harm. "I'm going to kill him," vows Simeon.

"No," says Reuben, another of the brothers. "We must not spill our brother's blood."

No one knows what to do, but they also know they cannot stop what they have started. Joseph is dragged by the arms across the rocky ground, choking on dust and fearing the worst.

"Look!" cries Judah, yet another of the brothers.

Joseph peers into the distance, and instantly knows his fate. For he sees a line of pack animals and a single-file line of men roped together. This is a slave caravan, headed through Israel on its way to Egypt with a fresh cargo of men to sell.

Soon, an incredulous Joseph watches as a bag of coins is thrust into Simeon's hands. The slavers grab Joseph and slip a length of rope around his wrists and neck. Now dressed in nothing but a ragged loincloth, he





stumbles in the sand. But that rope around his throat soon yanks him forward.

Joseph's brothers feel no sadness as they watch their sibling being led into a life of slavery. What's done is done. Now they must find a way to conceal their vile act from their father.

Joseph's tattered robe lies on the cracked earth. Simeon and the other brothers drop the blood of a dead goat upon the robe until it is drenched.

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Then, adopting their most solemn and forlorn faces, the brothers approach their father with some very bad news.

Simeon pulls back the flap to Jacob's tent and presents the robe to his father.

"No...," Jacob says, a smile vanishing from his face. He puts his hand through one of the holes in the fabric. "A wild beast did this?"

Simeon shrugs helplessly. "It must have been. We didn't see what happened."

"Why?" Jacob yells to the heavens. "Why, O Lord?"

He buries his face in the robe. Benjamin, at ten years old the youngest of his sons, looks on helplessly. He has been sworn to silence and knows better than to cross his brothers. Jacob's face, now smeared in blood, is soon riven by tears. His son is gone. Forever.

Joseph is sold to a wealthy Egyptian family, and would appear to be ensured a life of ease. But when he resists the romantic advances of his owner's wife, she lies and tells her husband that it was Joseph who was being improper--not she. Joseph's life seems to go from bad to worse. He is cast out of the house and thrown into prison. Time passes, and he becomes gaunt and filthy from months in the squalid and barbaric conditions.

Yet Joseph is an optimistic and a warmhearted man, even in the toughest of times. He soon becomes friends with his cellmates, both of whom once worked in the royal palace--one as a cupbearer, the other as a baker.

Joseph has a gift for listening to God, prayerfully and intently. This allows him to interpret the meanings of dreams. During his time in prison, Joseph is not afraid to share this gift by deciphering the dreams of his two companions.

"And what does my dream mean?" the baker asks him one morning. The three men sit on the grubby cell floor, chains clanking whenever they try to move. "The one with the birds and the baskets?"

Joseph closes his eyes to concentrate. "You were carrying three baskets of bread?"

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"Yes! Then the birds attacked me and ate the bread!"

Joseph focuses. "In three days' time..." He lifts his head and looks hard at the baker. "You will be executed," Joseph informs him solemnly. And to the cupbearer, "You will be freed."

The execution comes to pass, just as Joseph predicts. The cupbearer is soon released from prison, leaving Joseph alone in his cell. He spends his days on his knees in prayer, trying to divine God's plan for his life. Man's relationship with God seems impossible to fathom, but Joseph feels as if God is watching over him.

Light floods into Jospeh's cell one day, as a jailer steps in to wash the filth from his body. Joseph's heart sinks, for he knows that being bathed can mean only one thing: an appointment to see the Pharaoh--which, of course, also means execution.

Soon Joseph's hands are bound behind his back. He is led out of the jail and into the Pharaoh's throne room. A foreigner, a prisoner, and a slave, Joseph knows that his life has no value to the Pharaoh. And yet he stands tall, placing his faith in God.

Pharaoh enters the room and sits on his throne. He nods and Joseph hears the clank of a sword being pulled form its scabbard. But instead of feeling its sharp tip press against his back, Joseph is stunned to feel the ropes being cut from his wrists. The flat of the sword then smacks against Joseph's legs, driving him down onto his knees.

The cupbearer whom Joseph knew in prison steps forth and offers the Pharaoh a drink. Pharaoh accepts, sipping slowly and thoughtfully from the gold goblet before clearing his throat to speak. "I've had strange dreams," he tells Joseph. "My magicians can't explain them. But I'm told that you can."

"No," Joseph says, his face pressed to the ground. "God can. Through me."

"Whose god?" Pharaoh asks, his voice dripping in scorn. "Your God?"

Joseph dares to look up. "What is your dream?" he asks boldly. The flat of the sword smacks him on the back of the neck, forcing him to gaze down once again. This is where he stays as he listens to the Pharaoh describe his dream.

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"I was by the Nile," begins the Pharaoh, "when out of the river came seven cows, fat and healthy. Then seven thin, ugly cows swallowed them whole.

Then I had a different dream. Seven full heads of wheat, glowing in the sun--

then quickly eaten by seven rotten ones, thin and scorched by the wind." He drinks thoughtfully. "Can your God explain that?"

Joseph is silent, lost in prayer. He waits patiently for the voice of God. Just as Pharaoh is about to lose all patience, Joseph speaks, his gaze still directed at the stone floor. "The cows and grain are all the same," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"There will be seven years of plenty. But then seven years of famine. You must store food in preparation for that day."

"There will be no famine," the Pharaoh says imperiously. "The Nile always feeds our crops. Every year, without fail."

"You don't understand: there will be famine." Joseph stops abruptly, almost choking. The tip of the sword is suddenly under his chin. It forces him to raise his face and gaze upward at a most furious Pharaoh.

"You contradict the Pharaoh?"

Joseph speaks carefully, knowing that his next words could be his last. "You contradict your dream."

"Go on."

"Store grain. Store a portion of the harvest when it is plentiful. Otherwise



your people will starve. This is the meaning of your dream."

Pharaoh rises and steps down from his throne. "I am impressed by your conviction. You are set free, but on one condition."

"What is that, Pharaoh?"

"You will be in charge of telling the people to store their harvest."

Joseph's prophecy is proven correct. Thanks to the supreme power given him by the Pharaoh, Joseph is able to force farmers throughout Egypt to store their crops. This averts a national famine when hard times come.

For Joseph, this dramatic change of fortune is divine providence. He 45

will forever remember it as a reminder that there is always hope, even in the darkest moments. Thanks to his success, he assimilates into Egyptian society. A signet ring is place upon his finger. Eyeliner decorates his eyes, preventing the sun's strong rays from burning them. He wears a black, straight-haired wig, and his chin is always smoothly shaved.

Joseph soon becomes one of the most powerful men in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh in prestige. He even takes the Egyptian name of Zaphenath-Paneah. Thanks to Joseph, Pharaoh's wealth increases massively--though at the expense of many Egyptians, who are forced to sell their land to survive the famine.

And it is not just Egypt that suffers through the seven-year drought. The people of neighboring nations feel the pain as their crops wither and die.

Thousands upon thousands of foreigners flood into Egypt, which has become legendary for its well-stocked granaries. Among them are Joseph's brothers, sent there by Jacob to purchase grain. To do anything less would mean the end of their lineage, for they would all starve in Israel.

So it is that Joseph sees his brothers in a crowd as he makes his way by chariot through a crowded city street one day. He immediately orders that they be sent to his palatial residence. Joseph has never talked about the painful method in which his brothers changed his life, but he has also never forgotten. Now he has the ability to change their lives--for better or worse--as they once changed his.

Joseph's brothers are led into a formal drawing room by armed guards. The flat of a sword strikes Simeon on the back of the legs as a reminder to kneel.

Joseph enters the room with all the regal grace he has learned during his long rise to power. In his black wig and eyeliner, he is unrecognizable to his brothers.

They cower as Joseph studies their faces. He can do anything he wants to them right now: imprison them, enslave them, and even have them killed.

Yet Joseph's thoughts are always upon God. He shows his brothers the same love and mercy God has always shown him, particularly when times were so hard that hope barely flickered in his soul.

"Feed them," Joseph orders.

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His brothers are incredulous. This act of kindness goes beyond their wildest dreams. As soon as they are able, the brothers make their way out of the room. Outside, their donkeys are being loaded with heaping bags of grain to take home to Israel. Not once do they suspect that Joseph is their brother.

But Joseph is not done with them. His kindness comes with a price, for he wants to know whether or not his brothers have changed their ways and learned compassion for others. Joseph has contrived a test: hidden within one of those bags of grain is a silver goblet. Guards have been instructed to slice open the bag and reveal this cup and charge his brothers with theft.

This is where the test begins.

Everything goes according to plan. Simeon, Judah, Benjamin, and the others wait patiently as their donkeys are loaded with sacks of grain. A guard pretends to notice something suspicious when it comes time to leave, and slices open a bag to examine the strange bulge. When the silver cup falls onto the ground, Joseph's brothers are grabbed and immediately marched back to stand before Joseph.

The ten brothers kneel once again, this time even more terrified than before.

"I am told that this man is the guilty party," Joseph tells them, staring at Benjamin. He has carefully selected this youngest brother to blame, for he alone among his brothers was blameless when Joseph was sold into



slavery.

"Benjamin would never steal," Simeon begs.

"Silence!" barks Joseph. "Go home. All of you. But this one stays--as my slave."

The brothers all raise their faces, begging together. "No!" they cry out.

Please! We beg of you!"

Joseph surveys them with amusement. "We cannot leave him," protests Judah.

"It would kill our father!" agrees Simeon.

"I will be your slave instead," adds Judah. To which Simeon protests that he should be the one taken into slavery.

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"Silence!" Joseph commands once again. He struggles to remain composed. All the brothers fearfully press their faces to the floor. With a wave, Joseph dismisses all his guards. They leave. He stands alone, towering over his brothers.

"Bring our father here," he says in a hoarse whisper.

A mystified Simeon sneaks a look at Joseph, who has removed his Egyptian wig.

"Joseph?" asks a stunned Simeon. The others raise their eyes.

Joseph has longed so many years for this moment. "What you did to me was wrong," he tells his brothers. "But God made it right. He watched over me. I have saved many lives, thanks to Him."

The brothers do as they are told, returning home and bringing Jacob to Egypt so that he might be reunited with his son. The entire family is together again--all of Israel's children. But they are in the wrong place, and they know it. For while they now live in luxury, this is not the land that God promised Abraham.

Even worse, over the generations that will follow, the drought that Joseph



predicted means that thousands upon thousands are forced to leave. The people of Israel willfully travel to Egypt in source of food, then adopt this terrible new lifestyle just to stay alive. They build the great palaces and monuments of Egypt, working all day under the blazing desert sun. They are slaves of a great Pharaoh.

But they will be saved by a murderer, an outcast, and a man who will have the most extraordinary relationship of all with God.

This man's name is Moses.

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