At the river Pharpar I was entrusted by Abram with Lot and his wife and daughters, and these I escorted to safety in a little village where I felt certain they would be safe. Having done so, I ran with what swiftness I could muster to rejoin the fight.
I followed in the steps of the pursuers for hours until finally I came to the place at Hobah where the final battle was fought.
Hours later, when it was clear that the last of Chedorlaomer’s men was slain, I sank to the ground in exhaustion, with blood and sweat soaked into my clothes and my left hand scarcely able to release its grip on my sword.
Abram came along and sat down beside me, with tears in his eyes. He gestured east.
“Elohim has called you back to Damascus once more,” he said.
“Elohim?” I heard myself repeat the name. It was a word I had not heard him speak before. Only “El” or “El Elyon” or “Adonai,” but certainly the grandiosity of “Elohim” is appropriate to our God.
“We might never have come by Damascus again, were it not for this war. Perhaps Elohim is calling you back to your true home.”
“Has Elohim told you this?” I asked.
“He has not. But would He have me to keep you in bondage after you have fought alongside me with such selflessness and righteousness. You are free, my brother. If you will, live and die and sleep with your fathers.”
“I will not.” I heard myself say. “Where you go, I will go. Your people are my people. Your Elohim is my Elohim. I was born in your household and I will die in it. And may I indeed sleep with my father: Abram.”
He stood, and stretched out his arms so that I stood and embraced him and we kissed each other and we wept. This felt to me like an act of forgiveness, for when Abram instructed us to prepare for the pursuit of Chedorlaomer’s army, I sought to dissuade him of the endeavor.
“My lord,” said I, “five kings could not defeat them, and yet shall we?”
Many others agreed with me and there was murmuring in the camp.
“Very well,” Abram had said, “stay then, all of you who are fearful, in the Kiriath-Arba. But my brother Lot is captured, and his wife and daughters with him. I will go forth alone if I must, and fall slain in sanctifying the name of the Holy One, blessed be He.”
It was unthinkable that we should watch our father go off alone to fight the enemy. We were ashamed, all of us, and not one man stayed behind. We were ready to live and die with Abram in the name of Adonai.
Even now, I am ashamed that I spoke out in unbelief that day. Like most men, I live my life in fear of losing what is precious to me, and in hope of attaining what I desire. But not Abram.
Abram forsook his inheritance in Harran to wander in the desert, and yet he prospered and his household grew.
Abram forsook his wife to the Egyptian, and yet she remained untouched, and he was blessed all the more with the riches of Egypt.
Abram forsook the well-watered lands around Sodom and Gomorrah and dwelt in the wilderness of Hebron, yet his strength grew ever more.
Abram forsook all prudence and security to pursue an army much greater in number than his own. And that he did that he might rescue a quarrelsome Nephew that parted with him in order to claim the better part of the land.
Yet for this he received great spoils of war, and what is more, much honor.
Even in the aftermath of the battle, Abram behaved not as other men. For he paid the inhabitants of Hobah handsomely, that they would bury not only the slain of our men, who were few, but also the many, many dead of the Mesopotamians. While it is the custom of vicious kings to allow the beasts and the birds to feast upon their fallen enemies, Abram would not have it so. He declared that in all men is the breath of life, the very ruach of Elohim, and in properly burying them he honored even those whom his soul hated.