I sat in church a few weeks ago, stripping the sermon of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo in an attempt to glean anything practical from it. The topic was Abraham pleading Sodom and Gomorrah’s case before God so they might be spared from destruction.
“Spare them for 50 righteous?” Abraham asks.
“Yeah, okay,” God says.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Wwwweeelllll…. Okay. Sure. I’m in a good mood. I’m still jazzed from watching a Mesopotamian saddle a T-Rex and ride it around like a horse. Gimme 10 and I’ll give you some love!”
Of course, that’s where it all falls down. God knew Abraham couldn’t produce 10 righteous people so he squashed Sodom and Gomorrah like so many ants on the bottom of his shoe. Yahweh is the Don King of deities, the fight was totally rigged. The Apostle Paul let the cat out of the bag when he said, “There is no one righteous, not even one.” The way I see it, free will is where God went wrong. It’s his own fault, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about it.
So what’s this got to do with writing? Not much, except that it made me wonder how many readers, or lack thereof, it would take to destroy my writing life.
Would I write for just 50?
The answer is yes. I would still write, even if I had no readers at all. That, somehow, makes me better than God!
Far less popular, but better.