March 1 - “Shall the Judge of Earth Do What Is Just?”
2nd Sunday in Lent, March 1, 2026, Genesis 18:20-32, Luke 11:1-13 The Reverend Dr. Arnold Isidore Thomas
A story is told about a famous captain of a great transatlantic ocean liner who started out as a cabin boy, but through gradual and disciplined guidance from master seafarers, eventually evolved into one of the most revered mariners of the sea. His second-in-command, who had served under him for years, watched an emulated his every move. But there was one thing about the captain that puzzled her. Every morning, he went to his cabin, opened the drawer of his desk, took out a slip of paper, read it over and over again with great concentration, then returned it to his desk, and locked the drawer.
Finally the day arrived when the captain retired, and she assumed command of this renowned vessel. The first thing she did was to enter the cabin, unlock and open the drawer of the desk to find out what was on that slip of paper her mentor studied so carefully every day. Upon finding the paper, she discovered only a single sentence that read, “Left side port, right side starboard.”
Like the sea captain’s slip of paper, we should never forget the fundamental lessons and bearings of behavior that will successfully steer the course of our lives.
In biblical terms, such bearings are simply delineated in the words of the great commandments: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and soul, and mind, and strength; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18, Deuteronomy 6:5, Mark 12:29-31)
These commandments undergird the entirety of Hebrew and Christian testimony in the Bible. Rabbi Hillel said that beyond these commandments, everything else is mere commentary. And Jesus acknowledged them as the means to eternal life (Luke 10:28). They are inextricably twined. You can’t have one without the other, because when we allow ourselves – heart, soul, mind, and strength – to be totally one with God, we, in essence, lose ourselves and become extensions, embodiments, incarnations of God. This means that all we do in relation to others and the world becomes a reflection of the divine; the Word made flesh.
However, the reader remains puzzled as to what is God’s Word. The commandments will not be mentioned until the books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus. But we’re still stuck in Genesis with a God who hasn’t clearly indicated what’s expected of us, except unquestioned obedience.
And when we disobey, there is hell to pay. In the chapters leading up to this story, God excommunicates the original human couple and curses all creation because of their disobedience. God destroys all life except the family of Noah and the animals he rescued in the ark. And God confuses the language of humans who try to build a tower to get close to God. But this God prefers to remain transcendent; that we keep our distance and not get too close; that we do as we’re told with unquestioned obedience. But in this story Abraham dares to question the Lord.
In a posture of fear and trembling, Abraham seems like a prospective buyer haggling the divine street merchant, God, to lower the price of an item he hopes to buy.
The item is the salvation of Sodom, and Abraham manages to haggle God down to the price of saving the city if there are but ten faithful souls within.
Now, I often wonder why Abraham stopped at ten. He certainly was on a roll with God obliging his inquiry because, unlike previous biblical characters, Abraham challenges God to a divine ethic of being saying: “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:25)
Why did Abraham stop at ten? Biblical scholar Terrence Fretheim suggests that the number ten (not to be taken literally) represents the smallest possible group in ancient configurations, and that a smaller number would render God’s involvement no longer with groups but individuals, which may have been what ultimately occurred with his nephew Lot and his household.1
More crucial to the dialogue between Abraham and God is the issue concerning the relationship of a particular group to the moral fiber of the wider society in which they live. Fretheim further suggests that “the righteousness of a few can so permeate a wicked society that they can save it from the destructive effects of its own evil ways. However, a buildup of wickedness can become so deep and broad that nothing can turn the potential for judgment around.”2
Is there a God ethic? Jesus believed there is and that the sin of Sodom was its gross inhospitality to others. He considered the inhospitality of communities that rejected his message comparable to conditions that contributed to the destruction of Sodom. The gospels couch his condemnation in words of divine judgment.
I tell you that on the Day of Judgment it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom than for you. (Matthew 11:24)
Now, while I reject the belief that God destroys entire civilizations for their ungodly behavior (which is what God eventually did to Sodom), I do accept that a society’s callous disregard of God’s greatest commandments will contribute to its ultimate demise and destruction.
The growing chasm between the rich and poor of this nation and world, with no apparent remedy in sight, exposes the gaping and festering wounds of a global plutocracy consumed by earthy wealth over heavenly rewards.
I’m reminded of what, at times, seem like lone prophetic voices crying out in a hostile wilderness; voices such as Swedish climate activist Greta Thunberg announcing before the World Economic Summit concerning the environmental crisis of the world that “Our house is on fire… I want you to panic. I want you to feel the fear I feel every day. And then I want you to act. I want you to act as you would in a crisis. I want you to act as if your house is on fire. Because it is.”
To what extent does her prophetic voice differ from that of John the Baptist who warned: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree, therefore, that does not bear fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Matthew 3:11)
Again, we may interpret this as a warning of God’s impending wrath against an uncaring, inhospitable world, or as impending punishment caused by our own negligence.
The gospel lesson pursues the God ethic of neighborly love further involving the night visitation of a neighbor who asks bread from his friend to feed a guest in his household. The reluctant provider first refuses, but eventually relents to his neighbor’s needs because of his persistence.
As a former pastor, this story reminds me of times I too felt disturbed by the nightly desperate calls of neighbors facing eviction, medical emergencies, food shortage, utility termination, if I couldn’t assist in supplying some means of support and relief.
The far more desperate example of neighborly love returns us to the scene of Sodom, where Lot resorts to extreme ungodly measures that include the possible rape of his daughters to the men of Sodom to protect the heavenly guests of his household from the night intrusion of that city’s mob
People of God, as Sodom was allegedly destroyed by its gross inhospitality, the God ethic of our churches, communities, nation, and world is now being tested by national and world leaders who confine neighborly love to those who serve their financial agenda and needs. The rest of the world is desperately banging on our doors and disturbing us at all hours of the day and night, asking, “Shall you who follow the Judge of all the earth do what is right?”
“If we do not act,” says Martin Luther King, Jr., “we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.”
Left side port, right side starboard. What are the fundamental bearings that steer the course of your lives? We are not helpless, we are people of God.
People of God, “even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree, therefore, that does not bear fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” Our house is on fire. Shall we who follow the Judge of all the earth do what is right?
We must. We shall. Amen.
Endnotes
1 Terence E. Fretheim, The Book of Genesis, The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol.1, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994) p. 469
2 Ibid, pp. 469-470
