**The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah**
The sun had barely risen over the plains of Sodom when the two angels, disguised as men, arrived at the city gates. Their faces were grave, their steps purposeful, for they carried a divine mission from the Lord. The night before, they had dined with Abraham, who had pleaded with God to spare the wicked city if even ten righteous souls could be found within it. But now, as they entered Sodom, the stench of sin hung thick in the air—greed, cruelty, and unspeakable depravity festered in every corner.
Lot, Abraham’s nephew, was sitting at the city gate, a place where elders and judges conducted business. Though he had chosen to dwell in Sodom for its fertile land and wealth, his heart had not been entirely corrupted by its ways. When he saw the two strangers, he rose quickly and bowed low to the ground.
“My lords,” he said urgently, “please, turn aside to your servant’s house and spend the night. Wash your feet, and rise early to go on your way.”
The angels hesitated, for they had intended to spend the night in the square to test the city’s wickedness. But Lot pressed them earnestly, sensing the danger that lurked in the streets after dark. At last, they agreed and followed him to his home.
Lot’s household hurried to prepare a feast—unleavened bread, roasted meat, and the finest wine they had. But before they could even recline at the table, a clamor arose outside. The men of Sodom, young and old, had surrounded the house, pounding on the door with furious demands.
“Where are the men who came to you tonight?” they shouted. “Bring them out to us, that we may know them!”
Lot’s heart pounded. He knew what they meant—the men of Sodom sought to defile the strangers in the vilest way imaginable. Desperate, he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
“Brothers, I beg you, do not act so wickedly!” he pleaded. “See, I have two daughters who have never known a man. Let me bring them out to you, and do to them as you please. But do nothing to these men, for they have come under the shelter of my roof.”
The mob roared in fury. “Stand back!” they jeered. “This fellow came to sojourn, and now he plays the judge? We will deal worse with you than with them!”
They lunged forward to break down the door, but the angels inside reached out, seized Lot by the arm, and yanked him back inside. Then, with a mere touch, they struck the men outside with blindness—their eyes straining uselessly, groping in confusion as they staggered away.
The angels turned to Lot. “Have you anyone else here? Sons-in-law, sons, daughters, or anyone in the city—bring them out of this place!” they commanded. “For the Lord has sent us to destroy it.”
Lot rushed to the homes of his daughters’ betrothed husbands. “Up! Get out of this place, for the Lord is about to destroy the city!” he cried. But they laughed at him, thinking him a fool.
As dawn approached, the angels seized Lot, his wife, and his two daughters by the hand. “Escape for your life!” they urged. “Do not look back or stop anywhere in the valley. Flee to the hills, lest you be swept away!”
Lot hesitated. “Oh no, my lords! Behold, your servant has found favor in your sight, but the hills are too far. Let me escape to that little city nearby—it is small, is it not? Then my life will be spared.”
The angel relented. “Very well, I grant you this favor also. Hurry! For I can do nothing until you are there.”
So Lot and his family fled toward Zoar. The sun had risen over the land when the Lord rained down sulfur and fire from heaven upon Sodom and Gomorrah. The earth trembled, the skies roared, and a tempest of divine wrath consumed every living thing in those cities—the people, the livestock, even the very plants of the field.
Lot’s wife, unable to resist, turned back for one last glance at the home she had loved. In that instant, she became a pillar of salt—a stark warning against longing for a life God had condemned.
From a distance, Abraham looked out toward Sodom and saw the smoke rising like the fumes of a furnace. His heart was heavy, for he knew that not even ten righteous souls had been found. Yet God, in His mercy, had remembered Abraham’s plea and spared Lot.
As for Lot, fear drove him from Zoar into the mountains, where he and his daughters dwelt in a cave. In their desperation, they believed themselves the last people on earth, and the daughters devised a wicked plan to preserve their father’s lineage. They made him drink wine, and in his drunkenness, each lay with him, conceiving sons who would become the fathers of the Moabites and Ammonites—nations that would later trouble Israel.
Thus, the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah stood as an eternal testament: God does not tolerate unrepentant sin, yet He delivers the righteous from destruction. And though mercy may spare the few, the wages of wickedness are fire and ruin.
