The desert shimmered in the midday heat as Abraham rested beneath the ancient oaks of Mamre, the bark of which seemed to whisper secrets older than stone. The stillness was thick, and then — like shadows stepping through a crack in the world — three radiant figures appeared on the horizon.
Abraham's eyes widened. These were no ordinary men. Their presence stirred the air, bending light like heat on sand. He ran to meet them, bowing low with the urgency of reverence.
"If I have found favor in your sight, my lords," he said, his voice cracking from the dry heat, "do not pass your servant by. Let water be brought to wash your feet, and rest beneath the tree. A meal — just a little bread, to refresh you for the journey."
They nodded as one.
"Do as you have said."
Abraham rushed inside.
"Sarah! Three measures of the finest flour — quickly, knead and bake it!"
Then he ran to the herd, choosing a tender calf — the best he had — and gave it to a servant to prepare with speed. Milk, curds, meat, and fresh bread were soon laid before the visitors, a feast beneath the branches.
While they ate, Abraham stood nearby, silent in wonder.
One of them — the LORD Himself in veiled glory — turned to him:
"Where is your wife, Sarah?"
"In the tent," Abraham replied.
"I will return to you by this time next year, and Sarah, your wife, will have a son."
Behind the curtain of the tent, Sarah overheard. Wrinkled with years and weariness, she covered her mouth — but the laugh escaped her lips, dry and bitter with disbelief.
"After I am worn out… and my master is old… shall I now know such pleasure?"
But the LORD heard the laugh not with ears, but with truth itself.
"Why did Sarah laugh?" He said, turning His gaze through the fabric of the tent. "Is anything too marvelous for the LORD? At the appointed time, I will return — and Sarah will have a son."
Sarah, afraid, stepped into view. "I did not laugh," she whispered.
But the LORD only looked at her gently and said,
"Yes… you did."
When the meal was done, the visitors rose and turned their gaze toward the twin cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, nestled like dust under storm clouds. Abraham walked beside them. Something deep stirred in the heart of the Eternal One.
"Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?" the LORD murmured to Himself. "He will become a great and mighty nation… and all nations will be blessed through him. I have chosen him to teach righteousness and justice."
Then the thunder broke:
"The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great. Their sin is grievous. I will go down and see — and if their corruption is as deep as the cries that reach me… I will know."
The other two figures continued toward the doomed cities. But Abraham remained standing before the LORD.
His heart pounded. Then he stepped forward — not as a man of flesh, but as one who knew the heart of Heaven.
"Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked?" he asked. "What if there are fifty righteous in the city? Surely, you wouldn't destroy the innocent with the guilty."
The LORD's voice rolled like a calm storm.
"If I find fifty righteous there, I will spare the entire city for their sake."
Abraham pressed on, bold but trembling — reducing the number again and again.
"Forty-five?"
"Forty."
"Thirty?"
"Twenty?"
"Ten?"
And each time, the LORD replied with patience:
"For the sake of ten… I will not destroy it."
Then the conversation ended. The air cooled. The divine presence lifted like the wind withdrawing into the hills.
And Abraham, heart heavy with hope and fear, returned to his tent — while judgment continued its quiet march toward Sodom.