The Divine Mulligan

In golf it’s called a mulligan.

You hit a driver off the tee, shank it right out of bounds and say, “Yeah, let me try that again.”

In the Bible, the book of Genesis, we are introduced to what I would call the ultimate divine mulligan when God looks at the world and says, “Yeah, I think I need a do-over.”  He wipes out the world with a massive flood, saving only Noah and his family.

We all know this story.  We know how it ends with the rainbow and God’s promise to never again take a mulligan where mankind is concerned.

But that doesn’t mean that God, throughout the rest of Genesis, doesn’t have some cleaning up to do.  When mankind begins construction of a tower high enough to reach God (what we know as the Tower of Babel), God scatters the people and causes them to speak different languages.

And even centuries after Noah, God is still checking in on various cities where he can see the people are up to no good.

One of these cities is Sodom.

In today’s terms, we would call Sodom a “hot mess.”  It is a city of sin and debauchery.  Whatever your own personal moral code is, however you may define for yourself what constitutes such a sinful place, know that Sodom was about a thousand times worse than you can imagine.  Think of Sodom as a place of concentrated, undiluted evil.

God looks at Sodom and thinks, “Yeah, I’m probably going to have to wipe them out, but before I do, I want to have a chat about it with my friend Abraham.”

Now Abraham’s nephew Lot is living in Sodom with his family, so when God tells Abraham that he is thinking about destroying Sodom, you can imagine that Abraham is little concerned for Lot … but, at the same time, this is God, he’s talking to.  How is he supposed to address this with God?

“Surely,” he says to God in Genesis 18:22, “you won’t sweep away the righteous with the wicked?”  Abraham continues. “What if there are fifty good people in Sodom?  Will you spare the city then?”

So, God says, fine, He’ll spare the city if fifty good people can be found.

But now Abraham is emboldened.  He continues to negotiate.  “What about five less than fifty?  What about forty-five?”

I imagine God sighing at this point.  Yes, fine, He says, He’ll spare the city if forty-five righteous people are found.

Abraham continues, eventually getting God to say He’ll spare the city if ten good people are found.

But we know how this story ends too, don’t we?  God doesn’t find fifty.  He doesn’t even find ten.  He basically finds Lot, his wife and his two daughters and Lot’s wife famously winds up a pillar of salt before the story is over.  And Sodom is destroyed.

I remember when I first read this story as a child being captivated by the image of Lot’s wife turning into a pillar of salt.  Of course, that’s what stood out to me—it’s the most fantastical part of the story, but as an adult, I can tell you that what lingers with me now, when I read the story, is Abraham’s negotiation with God.

Why?

Because we too, live in a broken society, a broken world.

It seems that every week, every day, there is something horrible on the news.  And each horrible story seems to stir the same reaction in each of us—the world is hopeless, the world is beyond saving, the world is a place where the weak among us are trampled underfoot by the powerful, and if that were not enough, a world where the voice of the weak is stolen, so their cries for help remain unanswered.

And it is times like these that I find myself praying what I call Abraham’s prayer.  “Lord, I still have hope,” I say.  “Lord, I believe there is still goodness in the world.  I believe in the beauty of creation.  I believe in Your unceasing love, Lord.  Please do not lose faith in us.”

And yet, even as I say this prayer, I know it’s not God’s faith in humanity that I need to worry about … it’s my own.  Where do we find hope?  Where do we look?  What do I need to do to protect that which is the most important thing in me … my soul?

The importance of your soul is the point Jesus is making in today’s Gospel reading from Matthew.  It’s easy to get caught up in the graphic images of cutting off your hand or foot or plucking out your eyeball to avoid sin, but the point Jesus is making is that when it comes to sin, the damage to your physical body is nothing compared to the damage sin causes to your spiritual body—your soul.  Your hands, your feet, your eyes are worth nothing when compared to your soul.

All of which leads me back—interestingly enough—to Lot’s wife.

The story of Lot’s wife elicits two important questions.

First, why did she look back? 

I think what has always troubled me about this story was that I could relate to Lot’s wife.  I would have looked back.  Or, at the very least, been very tempted to look back, especially if someone had already told me not to.  I can’t tell you how many times as a child that I went to the movies with my parents and wound up watching a chunk of the movie between my fingers because I had been told not to look.  In fact, that was how I first watched that wrath-of-God scene at the end of Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark, another story that shows the consequences for looking where you’ve been warned not to.

As a matter of fact, our culture is filled with stories about the risks of looking back.  Think about the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.   Orpheus is allowed to rescue his wife Eurydice from the underworld with one stipulation—she would follow him out, but until they were both out, he could not look back to see if she was there.  Of course, he does look back and Eurydice vanishes forever.

Maybe Lot’s wife looked back because she suddenly remembered she had left her toothbrush on the sink.  Maybe she was worried she had left the iron on.

Or maybe she was just curious.

But—and here’s the second question—why did looking back cause her to turn into a pillar of salt?

Was she simply being punished for disobedience, or was there something else going on here, something deeper, something to do with her soul perhaps?

Perhaps witnessing the full wrath of God being enacted on Sodom was more than her soul could bear.  Genesis 19 tells us that God destroyed every living thing in Sodom, including all vegetation.  It was a nuclear divine mulligan.

And Lot’s wife watched it happen.

What is the lesson to be learned from Lot’s wife?  God knows best.  If He tells you not to look, don’t look, because maybe, like any good parent, God is trying to protect you, to protect that very fragile soul within.

There is evil in this world, and hardship and suffering, and by no means should we ignore that.  We must engage with the world in order to save the world, but at the same time, to passively dwell on the horrors of this world, can only wound our souls.

Philippians 4:8 tells us, “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”

Do this, Paul says in the next verse, and “the God of Peace will be with you.”

May the God of Peace be with each of us today and always.  May His peace settle in our hearts and souls.  May we be ever mindful of our precious souls and keep them safe and protected as we would a small child.

And finally, may we be ever hopeful in this world and never doubt that goodness exists and that God’s love reigns.

Amen.