Part 7
IV. And now let me wind up all by trying to set forth in order some practical lessons, which appear to me to follow, as legitimate consequences, from this history of Moses
What has all this to do with us? some men will say. We do not live in Egypt,—we have seen no miracles,—we are not Israelites,—we are weary of the subject.
Stay a little, if this be the thought of your heart, and by God's help I will show you that all may learn here, and all may be instructed. He that would live a Christian life, and be a really holy man, let him mark the history of Moses and get wisdom.
(1) For one thing, if you would ever be saved, you must make the choice that Moses made,—you must choose God before the world.
Mark well what I say. Do not overlook this, though all the rest be forgotten. I do not say that the statesman must throw up his office, and the rich man forsake his property. Let no one fancy that I mean this. But I say, if a man would be saved, whatever be his rank in life, he must be prepared for tribulation. He must make up his mind to choose much which seems evil, and to give up and refuse much which seems good.
I dare say this sounds strange language to some who read these pages. I know well you may have a certain form of religion, and find no trouble in your way. There is a common worldly kind of Christianity in this day, which many have, and think they have enough,—a cheap Christianity which offends nobody, and requires
no sacrifice,—which costs nothing, and is worth nothing. I am not speaking of religion of this kind.
But if you really are in earnest about your soul,—if your religion is something more than a mere fashionable Sunday cloak,—if you are determined to live by the Bible,—if you are resolved to be a New Testament Christian, then, I repeat, you will soon find you must carry a cross.—You must endure hard things, you must suffer in behalf of your soul, as Moses did, or you cannot be saved.
The world in the nineteenth century is what it always was. The hearts of men are still the same. The offence of the cross is not ceased. God's true people are still a despised little flock. True Evangelical religion still brings with it reproach and scorn. A real servant of God will still be thought by many a weak enthusiast and a fool.
But the matter comes to this. Do you wish your soul to be saved? Then remember, you must choose whom you will serve. You cannot serve God and mammon. You cannot be on two sides at once. You cannot be a friend of Christ, and a friend of the world at the same time. You must come out from the children of this world, and be separate; you must put up with much ridicule, trouble, and opposition, or you will be lost for ever. You must be willing to think and do things which the world considers foolish, and to hold opinions which are only held by a few. It will cost you something. The stream is strong, and you have to stem it. The way is narrow and steep, and it is no use saying it is not. But, depend on it, there can be no saving religion without sacrifices and self-denial.
Now are you making any sacrifices? Does your religion cost you anything? I put it to your conscience in all affection and tenderness, —Are you, like Moses, preferring God to the world, or not? I beseech you not to take shelter under that dangerous word "we:" "we ought,"
and "we hope," and "we mean," and the like. I ask you plainly, What are you doing yourself? Are you willing to give up anything which keeps you back from God? or are you clinging to the Egypt of the world, and saying to yourself, "I must have it, I must have it: I cannot tear myself away"? Is there any cross in your Christianity? Are there any sharp corners in your religion, anything that ever jars and comes in collision with the earthly-mindedness around you? or is all smooth and rounded off, and comfortably fitted into custom and fashion? Do you know anything of the afflictions of the Gospel? Is your faith and practice ever a subject of scorn and reproach? Are you thought a fool by any one because of your soul? Have you left Pharaoh's daughter, and heartily joined the people of God? Are you venturing all on Christ? Search and see.
These are hard inquiries and rough questions. I cannot help it. I believe they are founded on Scripture truths. I remember it is written, "There went great multitudes with Jesus, and He turned, and said unto them, If any man come to Me and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. And whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14:25–27.) Many, I fear, would like glory, who have no wish for grace. They would fain have the wages, but not the work; the harvest, but not the labour; the reaping, but not the sowing; the reward, but not the battle. But it may not be. As Bunyan says, "the bitter must go before the sweet." If there is no cross, there will be no crown.
(2) The second thing I say is this,—nothing will ever enable you to choose God before the world, except faith.
Nothing else will do it. Knowledge will not, feeling will not, a regular use of outward forms will not, good companions will not. All these
may do something, but the fruit they produce has no power of continuance: it will not last. A religion springing from such sources will only endure so long as there is no "tribulation or persecution because of the Word;" but as soon as there is any, it will dry up. It is a clock without mainspring or weights; its face may be beautiful, you may turn its fingers round, but it will not go. A religion that is to stand must have a living foundation, and there is none other but faith.
There must be a real heartfelt belief that God's promises are sure and to be depended on;—a real belief that what God says in the Bible is all true, and that every doctrine contrary to this is false, whatever any one may say. There must be a real belief that all God's words are to be received, however hard and disagreeable to flesh and blood, and that His way is right and all others wrong. This there must be, or you will never come out from the world, take up the cross, follow Christ, and be saved.
You must learn to believe promises better than possessions;—things unseen better than things seen;—things in heaven out of sight better than things on earth before your eyes;—the praise of the invisible God better than the praise of visible man. Then, and then only, you will make a choice like Moses, and prefer God to the world.
Now I ask every reader of this paper, have you got this faith? If you have, you will find it possible to refuse seeming good, and choose seeming evil.—You will think nothing of to-day's losses, in the hope of to-morrow's gains.—You will follow Christ in the dark, and stand by Him to the very last. If you have not, I warn you, you will never war a good warfare, and "so run as to obtain."—You will soon be offended and turn back to the world.
Above all this there must be a real abiding faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. The life that you live in the flesh you must live by the faith of the Son of God. There must be a settled habit of continually leaning on Jesus, looking unto Jesus, drawing out of Jesus, and using Him as the manna of your soul. You must strive to be able to say, "To me to live is Christ." "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Philip. 1:21; 4:13.)
This was the faith by which the old saints obtained a good report. This was the weapon by which they overcame the world. This made them what they were.
This was the faith that made Noah go on building his ark, while the world looked on and mocked,—and Abraham give the choice of the land to Lot, and dwell on quietly in tents,—and Ruth cleave to Naomi, and turn away from her country and her gods,—and Daniel continue in prayer, though he knew the lions'den was prepared,—and the three children refuse to worship idols, though the fiery furnace was before their eyes,—and Moses forsake Egypt, not fearing the wrath of Pharaoh. All these acted as they did because they believed. They saw the difficulties and troubles of this course. But they saw Jesus by faith above them all, and they pressed on. Well may the Apostle Peter speak of faith as "precious faith." (2 Peter 1:1.)
(3) The third thing I say is this,—the true reason why so many are worldly and ungodly persons is that they have no faith.
We must be aware that multitudes of professing Christians would never think for a moment of doing as Moses did. It is useless to speak smooth things, and shut our eyes to the fact. That man must be blind who does not see thousands around him who are daily preferring the world to God,—placing the things of time before the things of eternity, and the things of the body before the things of the soul. We
may not like to admit this, and we try hard to blink the fact. But so it is.
And why do they do so? No doubt they will all give us reasons and excuses. Some will talk of the snares of the world,—some of the want of time,—some of the peculiar difficulties of their position,—some of the cares and anxieties of life,—some of the strength of temptation,— some of the power of passions,—some of the effects of bad companions. But what does it come to after all? There is a far shorter way to account for the state of their souls,—they do not believe. One simple sentence, like Aaron's rod, will swallow up all their excuses,— they have no faith.
They do not really think what God says is true. They secretly flatter themselves with the notion, "It will surely not be fulfilled,—there must surely be some other way to heaven beside that which ministers speak of,—there cannot surely be so much danger of being lost." In short, they do not put implicit confidence in the words that God has written and spoken, and so do not act upon them. They do not thoroughly believe hell, and so do not flee from it,—nor heaven, and so do not seek it,—nor the guilt of sin, and so do not turn from it,— nor the holiness of God, and so do not fear Him,—nor their need of Christ, and so do not trust in Him, nor love Him. They do not feel confidence in God, and so venture nothing for Him. Like the boy Passion, in "Pilgrim's Progress," they must have their good things now. They do not trust God, and so they cannot wait.
Now how is it with ourselves? Do we believe all the Bible? Let us ask ourselves that question. Depend on it, it is a much greater thing to believe all the Bible than many suppose. Happy is the man who can lay his hand on his heart and say, "I am a believer."
We talk of infidels sometimes as if they were the rarest people in the world. And I grant that open avowed infidelity is happily not very common now. But there is a vast amount of practical infidelity around us, for all that, which is as dangerous in the end as the principles of Voltaire and Paine. There are many who Sunday after Sunday repeat the creed, and make a point of declaring their belief in all that the Apostolic and Nicene forms contain. And yet these very persons will live all the week as if Christ had never died, and as if there were no judgment, and no resurrection of the dead, and no life everlasting at all. There are many who will say, "Oh, we know it all," when spoken to about eternal things and the value of their souls. And yet their lives show plainly they know not anything as they ought to know; and the saddest part of their state is that they think they do!
It is an awful truth, and worthy of all consideration, that knowledge not acted upon, in God's sight, is not merely useless and unprofitable. It is much worse than that. It will add to our condemnation and increase our guilt in the judgment day. A faith that does not influence a man's practice is not worthy of the name. There are only two classes in the Church of Christ,—those who believe and those who do not. The difference between the true Christian and the mere outward professor just lies in one word;—the true Christian is like Moses, "He has faith;"—the mere outward professor has none. The true Christian believes, and therefore lives as he does; the mere professor does not believe, and therefore is what he is. Oh, where is our faith? Let us not be faithless, but believing.
(4) The last thing I say is this,—the true secret of doing great things for God is, to have great faith.
I believe that we are all apt to err on this point. We think too much, and talk too much, about graces, and gifts, and attainments, and do
not sufficiently remember that faith is the root and mother of them all. In walking with God, a man will go just as far as he believes, and no further. His life will always be proportioned to his faith. His peace, his patience, his courage, his zeal, his works,—all will be according to his faith.
You read the lives of eminent Christians, of such men as Wesley, or Whitefield, or Venn, or Martyn, or Bickersteth, or Simeon, or M'Cheyne. And you are disposed to say, "What wonderful gifts and graces these men had!" I answer, you should rather give honour to the mother-grace which God puts forward in the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews,—you should give honour to their faith. Depend on it, faith was the mainspring in the character of each and all.
I can fancy some one saying, "They were so prayerful;—that made them what they were." I answer, why did they pray much?—Simply because they had much faith. What is prayer, but faith speaking to God?
Another perhaps will say, "They were so diligent and laborious,—that accounts for their success." I answer, why were they so diligent?— Simply because they had faith. What is Christian diligence, but faith at work?
Another will tell me, "They were so bold,—that rendered them so useful." I answer, why were they so bold?—Simply because they had much faith. What is Christian boldness, but faith honestly doing its duty?
And another will cry, "It was their holiness and spirituality,—that gave them their weight." For the last time I answer, what made them
holy?—Nothing but a living realizing spirit of faith. What is holiness, but faith visible and faith incarnate?
Now does any reader of this paper desire to grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ? Would you bring forth much fruit? Would you be eminently holy and useful? Would you be bright, and shine as a light in your day? Would you, like Moses, make it clear as noon-day that you have chosen God before the world? I dare be sure that every believer will reply, "Yes! yes! yes! these are the things we long for and desire."
Then take the advice I give you this day:—go and cry to the Lord Jesus Christ, as the disciples did, "Lord, increase our faith." Faith is the root of a real Christian's character. Let your root be right, and your fruit will soon abound. Your spiritual prosperity will always be according to your faith. He that believeth shall not only be saved, but shall never thirst,—shall overcome,—shall be established,—shall walk firmly on the waters of this world,—and shall do great works.
Reader, if you believe the things contained in this paper, and desire to be a thoroughly holy man, begin to act on your belief. Take Moses for your example. Walk in his steps. Go and do likewise.
IX. LOT: A BEACON
"He lingered."—GEN. 19:16
THE Holy Scriptures, which were written for our learning, contain beacons as well as patterns. They show us examples of what we should avoid, as well as examples of what we should follow. The man whose name heads this page is set for a beacon to the whole Church of Christ. His character is put before us in one little word:—"He
lingered." Let us sit down and look at this beacon for a few minutes. Let us consider Lot.
Who is this man that lingered?—It is the nephew of faithful Abraham. And when did he linger?—The very morning Sodom was to be destroyed. And where did he linger?—Within the walls of Sodom itself. And before whom did he linger?—Under the eyes of the two angels, who were sent to bring him out of the city. Even then "he lingered!"
The words are solemn, and full of food for thought. They ought to sound like a trumpet in the ears of all who make any profession of religion. I trust they will make every reader of this paper think. Who knows but they are the very words your soul requires? The voice of the Lord Jesus commands you to "remember Lot's wife." (Luke 17:32.) The voice of one of His ministers invites you this day to remember Lot.
Let me try to show,—
I. What Lot was himself:
II. What the text already quoted tells you of him:
III. What reasons may account for his lingering:
IV. What kind of fruit his lingering brought forth.
I ask the special attention of all who have reason to hope they are real Christians, and desire to live holy lives. Let it be a settled principle in our minds, if we follow holiness, that we must not "linger."
Once more, I say, "Lot is a beacon."
I. What was Lot?
This is a most important point. If I leave it unnoticed, I shall perhaps miss that class of professing Christians I want especially to benefit. If I did not make it quite clear, many would perhaps say, after reading this paper, "Ah! Lot was a bad man,—a poor, wicked, dark creature,— an unconverted man,—a child of this world!—no wonder he lingered."
But mark now what I say. Lot was nothing of the kind. Lot was a true believer,—a converted person,—a real child of God,—a justified soul, —a righteous man.
Has any one of my readers grace in his heart?—So also had Lot. Has any one of my readers a hope of salvation?—So also had Lot. Is any one of my readers a "new creature"?—So also was Lot. Is any one of my readers a traveller in the narrow way which leads unto life?—So also was Lot.
Let no one think this is only my private opinion,—a mere arbitrary fancy of my own,—a notion unsupported by Scripture. Let no one suppose I want him to believe it merely because I say it. The Holy Ghost has placed the matter beyond controversy, by calling him "just" and "righteous" (2 Peter 2:7, 8), and has given us good evidence of the grace that was in him.
One evidence is, that he lived in a wicked place, "seeing and hearing" evil all around him (2 Peter 2:8), and yet was not wicked himself. Now to be a Daniel in Babylon,—an Obadiah in Ahab's house,—an Abijah in Jeroboam's family,—a saint in Nero's court, and a "righteous man" in Sodom, a man must have the grace of God. Without grace it would be impossible.
Another evidence is, that he "vexed his soul with the unlawful deeds" he beheld around him. (2 Peter 2:8.) He was wounded, grieved, pained, and hurt at the sight of sin. This was feeling like holy David, who says, "I beheld the transgressors, and was grieved, because they kept not Thy word." "Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they keep not Thy law." (Psalm 119:136, 158.) This was feeling like St. Paul, who says, "I have great sorrow and continual heaviness in my heart,—for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh." (Rom. 9:2, 3.) Nothing will account for this but the grace of God.
Another evidence is, that he "vexed his soul from day to day" with the unlawful deeds he saw. (2 Peter 2:8.) He did not at length become cool and lukewarm about sin, as many do. Familiarity and habit did not take off the fine edge of his feelings, as too often is the case. Many a man is shocked and startled at the first sight of wickedness, and yet becomes at last so accustomed to see it, that he views it with comparative unconcern. This is especially the case with those who live in towns and cities, or with English people who travel on the Continent. Such persons often become utterly indifferent about Sabbath-breaking, and many forms of open sin. But it was not so with Lot. And this, again, is a great mark of he reality of his grace.
Such an one was Lot,—a just and righteous man, a man sealed and stamped as an heir of heaven by the Holy Ghost Himself.
Before we pass on, let us remember that a true Christian may have many a blemish, many a defect, many an infirmity, and yet be a true Christian nevertheless. We do not despise gold because it is mixed with much dross. We must not undervalue grace because it is accompanied by much corruption. Read on, and you will find that Lot paid dearly for his "lingering." But do not forget, as you read, that Lot was a child of God.
II. Let us pass on to the second thing I spoke of. What does the text, already quoted, tell us about Lot's behaviour?
The words are wonderful and astounding: "He lingered."—The more we consider the time and circumstances, the more wonderful we shall think them.
Lot knew the awful condition of the city in which he stood. "The cry" of its abominations "had waxen great before the Lord." (Gen. 19:13.) And yet "he lingered."
Lot knew the fearful judgment coming down on all within its walls. The angels had said plainly, "The Lord hath sent us to destroy it." (Gen. 19:13.) And yet "he lingered."
Lot knew that God was a God who always kept His word, and if He said a thing would surely do it. He could hardly be Abraham's nephew, and live long with him, and not be aware of this. Yet "he lingered."
Lot believed there was danger,—for he went to his sons-in-law, and warned them to flee. "Up!" he said, "Get you out of this place; for the Lord will destroy this city." (Gen. 19:14.) And yet "he lingered."
Lot saw the angels of God standing by, waiting for him and his family to go forth. He heard the voice of those ministers of wrath ringing in his ears to hasten him:—"Arise! take thy wife and thy two daughters which are here; lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city." (Gen. 19:15.) And yet "he lingered."
He was slow when he should have been quick,—backward when he should have been forward,—trifling when he should have been hastening,—loitering when he should have been hurrying,—cold
when he should have been hot. It is passing strange! It seems almost incredible! It appears too wonderful to be true! But the Spirit writes it down for our learning. And so it was.
And yet, wonderful as it may appear at first sight, I fear there are many of the Lord Jesus Christ's people very like Lot.
I ask every reader of this paper to mark well what I say. I repeat it that there may be no mistake about my meaning. I have shown you that Lot "lingered."—I say that there are many Christian men and Christian women in this day very like Lot.
There are many real children of God who appear to know far more than they live up to, and see far more than they practise, and yet continue in this state for many years. Wonderful that they go as far as they do, and yet go no further!
They hold the Head, even Christ, and love the truth. They like sound preaching, and assent to every article of Gospel doctrine, when they hear it. But still there is an indescribable something which is not satisfactory about them. They are constantly doing things which disappoint the expectations of their ministers, and of more advanced Christian friends. Marvellous that they should think as they do, and yet stand still!
They believe in heaven, and yet seem faintly to long for it;—and in hell, and yet seem little to fear it. They love the Lord Jesus; but the work they do for Him is small. They hate the devil; but they often appear to tempt him to come to them. They know the time is short; but they live as if it were long. They know they have a battle to fight; yet a man might think they were at peace. They know they have a race to run; yet they often look like people sitting still. They know the Judge is at the door, and there is wrath to come; and yet they appear
half asleep. Astonishing they should be what they are, and yet be nothing more!
And what shall we say of these people? They often puzzle godly friends and relations. They often cause great anxiety. They often give rise to great doubts and searchings of heart. But they may be classed under one sweeping description: they are all brethren and sisters of Lot. They linger.
These are they who get the notion into their minds, that it is impossible for all believers to be so very holy and very spiritual! They allow that eminent holiness is a beautiful thing. They like to read about it in books, and even to see it occasionally in others. But they do not think that all are meant to aim at so high a standard. At any rate, they seem to make up their minds it is beyond their reach.
These are they who get into their heads false ideas of charity, as they call it. They are morbidly afraid of being illiberal and narrowminded, and are always flying into the opposite extreme. They would fain please everybody, and suit everybody, and be agreeable to everybody. But they forget they ought first to be sure that they please God.
These are they who dread sacrifices, and shrink from self-denial. They never appear able to apply our Lord's command, to "take up the cross," and "cut off the right hand and pluck out the right eye." (Matt. 5:29, 30.) They cannot deny that our Lord used these expressions, but they never find a place for them in their religion. They spend their lives in trying to make the gate more wide, and the cross more light. But they never succeed.
These are they who are always trying to keep in with the world. They are ingenious in discovering reasons for not separating decidedly,
and in framing plausible excuses for attending questionable amusements, and keeping up questionable friendships. One day you are told of their attending a Bible reading: the next day perhaps you hear of their going to a ball. One day they fast, or go to the Lord's table and receive the sacrament: another day they go to the racecourse in the morning, and the opera at night. One day they are almost in hysterics under the sermon of some sensational preacher: another day they are weeping over some novel. They are constantly labouring to persuade themselves that to mix a little with worldly people on their own ground does good. Yet in their case it is very clear they do no good, and only get harm.
These are they who cannot find it in their hearts to quarrel with their besetting sin, whether it be sloth, indolence, ill-temper, pride, selfishness, impatience, or what it may. They allow it to remain a tolerably quiet and undisturbed tenant of their hearts. They say, "it is their health, or their constitutions, or their temperaments, or their trials, or their way. Their father, or mother, or grandmother, was so before themselves, and they are sure they cannot help it." And when you meet after the absence of a year or so, you hear the same thing!
But all, all, all may be summed up in one single sentence. They are the brethren and sisters of Lot. They linger.
Ah, if you are a lingering soul, you are not happy! You know you are not. It would be strange indeed if you were so. Lingering is the sure destruction of a happy Christianity. A lingerer's conscience forbids him to enjoy inward peace.
Perhaps at one time you did run well. But you have left your first love;—you have never felt the same comfort since, and you never will till you return to your "first works." (Rev. 2:5.) Like Peter, when the
Lord Jesus was taken prisoner, you are following the Lord afar off; and, like him, you will find the way not pleasant, but hard.
Come and look at Lot. Come and mark Lot's history. Come and consider Lot's "lingering," and be wise.
III. Let us next consider the reasons that may account for Lot's lingering
This is a question of great importance, and I ask most serious attention to it. To know the root of a disease is one step towards a remedy. He that is forewarned is forearmed.
Who is there among the readers of this paper that feels secure, and has no fear of lingering? Come and listen while I tell you a few passages of Lot's history. Do as he did, and it will be a miracle indeed if you do not get into the same state of soul at last.
One thing then I observe in Lot is this,—he made a wrong choice in early life.
There was a time when Abraham and Lot lived together. They both became rich, and could live together no longer. Abraham, the elder of the two, in the true spirit of humility and courtesy, gave Lot the choice of the country, when they resolved to part company:—"If thou," he said, "wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left." (Gen. 13:9.)
And what did Lot do?—We are told he saw that the plains of Jordan, near Sodom, were rich, fertile, and well watered. It was a good land for cattle, and full of pastures. He had large flocks and herds, and it just suited his requirements. And this was the land he chose for a
residence, simply because it was a rich, "well watered land." (Gen. 13:10.)
It was near the town of Sodom! He cared not for that.—The men of Sodom, who would be his neighbours, were wicked! It mattered not. —They were sinners before God exceedingly! It made no difference to him.—The pasture was rich. The land was good. He wanted such a country for his flocks and herds. And before that argument all scruples and doubts, if indeed he had any, at once went down.
He chose by sight, and not by faith. He asked no counsel of God, to preserve him from mistakes. He looked to the things of time, and not of eternity. He thought of his worldly profit, and not of his soul. He considered only what would help him in this life. He forgot the solemn business of the life to come. This was a bad beginning.
But I observe also that Lot mixed with sinners when there was no occasion for his doing so.
We are first told that he "pitched his tent toward Sodom." (Gen. 13:12.) This, as I have already shown, was a great mistake.
But the next time he is mentioned, we find him actually living in Sodom itself. The Spirit says expressly, "He dwelt in Sodom." (Gen. 14:12.) His tents were left. The country was forsaken. He occupied a house in the very streets of that wicked town.
We are not told the reasons of this change. We are not aware that any occasion could have arisen for it. We are sure there could have been no command of God. Perhaps his wife liked the town better than the country, for the sake of society. It is plain she had no grace herself. Perhaps she persuaded Lot it was needful for the advantage of his daughters, that they might marry, and get settled in life. Perhaps the
daughters urged living in the town for the sake of gay company: they were evidently light-minded young women. Perhaps Lot liked it himself, in order to make more of his flocks and herds. Men never want reasons to confirm their wills. But one thing is very clear,—Lot dwelt in the midst of Sodom without good cause.
When a child of God does these two things which I have named, we never need be surprised if we hear, by and by, unfavourable accounts about his soul. We never need wonder if he becomes deaf to the warning voice of affliction, as Lot was (Gen. 14:12), and turns out a lingerer in the day of trial and danger, as Lot did.
Make a wrong choice in life,—an unscriptural choice,—and settle yourself down unnecessarily in the midst of worldly people, and I know no surer way to damage your own spirituality, and to go backward about your eternal concerns. This is the way to make the pulse of your soul beat feebly and languidly. This is the way to make the edge of your feeling about sin become blunt and dull. This is the way to dim the eyes of your spiritual discernment, till you can scarcely distinguish good from evil, and stumble as you walk. This is the way to bring a moral palsy on your feet and limbs, and make you go tottering and trembling along the road to Zion, as if the grasshopper was a burden. This is the way to sell the pass to your worst enemy,—to give the devil vantage ground in the battle,—to tie your arms in fighting,—to fetter your legs in running,—to dry up the sources of your strength,—to cripple your energies,—to cut off your own hair, like Samson, and give yourself into the hands of the Philistines, to put out your own eyes, grind at the mill, and become a slave.
I call on every reader of this paper to mark well what I am saying. Settle these things down in your mind. Do not forget them. Recollect
them in the morning. Recall them to memory at night. Let them sink down deeply into your heart. If ever you would be safe from "lingering," beware of needless mingling with worldly people. Beware of Lot's choice! If you would not settle down into a dry, dull, sleepy, lazy, barren, heavy, carnal, stupid, torpid state of soul, beware of Lot's choice!
(a) Remember this in choosing a dwelling-place, or residence. It is not enough that the house is comfortable,—the situation good,—the air fine,—the neighbourhood pleasant,—the rent or price small,—the living cheap. There are other things yet to be considered. You must think of your immortal soul. Will the house you think of help you towards heaven or hell?—Is the Gospel preached within an easy distance?—Is Christ crucified within reach of your door?—Is there a real man of God near, who will watch over your soul? I charge you, if you love life, not to overlook this. Beware of Lot's choice.
(b) Remember this in choosing a calling, a place, or profession in life. It is not enough that the salary is high,—the wages good,—the work light,—the advantages numerous,—the prospects of getting on most favourable. Think of your soul, your immortal soul. Will it be fed or starved? Will it be prospered or drawn back? Will you have your Sundays free, and be able to have one day in the week for your spiritual business? I beseech you, by the mercies of God, to take heed what you do. Make no rash decision. Look at the place in every light, —the light of God as well as the light of the world. Gold may be bought too dear. Beware of Lot's choice.
(c) Remember this in choosing a husband or wife, if you are unmarried. It is not enough that your eye is pleased,—that your tastes are met,—that your mind finds congeniality,—that there is amiability and affection,—that there is a comfortable home for life.
There needs something more than this. There is a life yet to come. Think of your soul, your immortal soul. Will it be helped upwards or dragged downwards by the union you are planning?—Will it be made more heavenly, or more earthly,—drawn nearer to Christ, or to the world?—Will its religion grow in vigour, or will it decay?—I pray you, by all your hopes of glory, allow this to enter into your calculations. "Think," as old Baxter said, and "think, and think again," before you commit yourself. "Be not unequally yoked." (2 Cor. 6:14.) Matrimony is nowhere named among the means of conversion. Remember Lot's choice.
(d) Remember this, if you are ever offered a situation on a railway.— It is not enough to have good pay and regular employment,—the confidence of the directors, and the best chance of rising to a higher post. These things are very well in their way, but they are not everything. How will your soul fare if you serve a railway company that runs Sunday trains? What day in the week will you have for God and eternity? What opportunities will you have for hearing the Gospel preached? I solemnly warn you to consider this. It will profit you nothing to fill your purse, if you bring leanness and poverty on your soul. Beware of selling your Sabbath for the sake of a good place! Remember Esau's mess of pottage. Beware of Lot's choice!
Some reader may perhaps think, "A believer need not fear; he is a sheep of Christ, he will never perish, he cannot come to much harm. It cannot be that such small matters can be of great importance."
Well, you may think so. But I warn you, if you neglect these matters, your soul will never prosper. A true believer will certainly not be cast away, although he may linger. But if he does linger, it is vain to suppose that his religion will thrive. Grace is a tender plant. Unless you cherish it and nurse it well, it will soon become sickly in this evil
world. It may droop, though it cannot die. The brightest gold will soon become dim when exposed to a damp atmosphere. The hottest iron will soon become cold. It requires pains and toil to bring it to a red heat: it requires nothing but letting alone, or a little cold water, to become black and hard.
You may be an earnest, zealous Christian now. You may feel like David in his prosperity: "I shall never be moved." (Psalm 30:6.) But be not deceived. You have only got to walk in Lot's steps and make Lot's choice, and you will soon come to Lot's state of soul. Allow yourself to do as he did, presume to act as he acted, and be very sure you will soon discover you have become a wretched "lingerer" like him. You will find, like Samson, the presence of the Lord is no longer with you. You will prove, to your own shame, an undecided, hesitating man, in the day of trial. There will come a canker on your religion, and eat out its vitality without your knowing it. There will come a slow consumption on your spiritual strength, and waste it away insensibly. And at length you will wake up to find your hands hardly able to do the Lord's work, and your feet hardly able to carry you along the Lord's way, and your faith no bigger than a grain of mustard seed; and this, perhaps, at some turning point in your life, at a time when the enemy is coming in like a flood, and your need is the sorest.
Ah, if you would not become a lingerer in religion, consider these things! Beware of doing what Lot did!
IV. Let us inquire now what kind of fruit Lot's lingering spirit bore at last
I would not pass over this point for many reasons, and especially in the present day. There are not a few who will feel disposed to say, "After all Lot was saved: he was justified,—he got to heaven. I want
no more. If I do but get to heaven, I shall be content." If this be the thought of your heart, just stay a moment, and listen to me a little longer. I will show you one or two things in Lot's history which deserve attention, and may perhaps induce you to alter your mind.
I think it of first importance to dwell upon this subject. I always will contend that eminent holiness and eminent usefulness are most closely connected,—that happiness and "following the Lord fully" go side by side,—and that it believers will linger, they must not expect to be useful in their day and generation, or to be very saintly and Christ-like, or to enjoy great comfort and peace in believing.
(a) Let us mark, then, for one thing, that Lot did no good among the inhabitants of Sodom.
Lot probably lived in Sodom many years. No doubt he had many precious opportunities for speaking of the things of God, and trying to turn away souls from sin. But Lot seems to have effected just nothing at all. He appears to have had no weight or influence with the people who lived around him. He possessed none of that respect and reverence which even the men of the world will frequently concede to a bright servant of God.
Not one righteous person could be found in all Sodom, outside the walls of Lot's home. Not one of his neighbours believed his testimony. Not one of his acquaintances honoured the Lord whom he worshipped. Not one of his servants served his master's God. Not one of "all the people from every quarter" cared a jot for his opinion when he tried to restrain their wickedness. "This one fellow came in to sojourn," said they, "and he will needs be a judge." (Gen. 19:9.) His life carried no weight; his words were not listened to; his religion drew none to follow him.
And, truly, I do not wonder! As a general rule, lingering souls do no good to the world and bring no credit to God's cause. Their salt has too little savour to season the corruption around them. They are not "Epistles of Christ" who can be "known and read of all." (2 Cor. 3:2.) There is nothing magnetic, and attractive, and Christ-reflecting about their ways. Let us remember this.
(b) Let us mark, for another thing, that Lot helped none of his family, relatives, or connections towards heaven.
We are not told how large his family was. But this we know,—he had a wife and two daughters at least, in the day he was called out of Sodom, if he had not more children besides.
But whether Lot's family was large or small, one thing, I think, is perfectly clear,—there was not one among them all that feared God!
When he "went out and spake to his sons-in-law, which married his daughters," and warned them to flee from the judgments coming on Sodom, we are told, "he seemed to them as one that mocked." (Gen. 19:14.) What fearful words those are! It was as good as saying, "Who cares for anything you say?" So long as the world stands, those things will be a painful proof of the contempt with which a "lingerer" in religion is regarded.
And what was Lot's wife? She left the city in his company, but she did not go far. She had not faith to see the need of such a speedy flight. She left her heart in Sodom when she began to flee. She looked back from behind her husband, in spite of the plainest command not to do so (Gen. 19:17), and was at once turned into a pillar of salt.
And what were Lot's two daughters? They escaped, indeed, but only to do the devil's work. They became their father's tempters to
wickedness, and led him to commit the foulest of sins.
In short, Lot seems to have stood alone in his family! He was not made the means of keeping one soul back from the gates of hell!
And I do not wonder. Lingering souls are seen through by their own families; and, when seen through, they are despised. Their nearest relatives understand inconsistency, if they understand nothing else in religion. They draw the sad, but not unnatural, conclusion, "Surely, if he believed all he professes to believe, he would not go on as he does." Lingering parents seldom have godly children. The eye of the child drinks in far more than the ear. A child will always observe what you do much more than what you say. Let us remember this.
(c) Let us mark, for a third thing, that Lot left no evidences behind him when he died.
We know but little about Lot after his flight from Sodom, and all that we do know is unsatisfactory.
His pleading for Zoar, because it was "a little one,"—his departure from Zoar afterwards,—and his conduct in the cave,—all, all tell the same story. All show the weakness of the grace that was in him, and the low state of soul into which he had fallen.
We know not how long he lived after his escape. We know not where he died, or when he died,—whether he saw Abraham again,—what was the manner of his death,—what he said or what he thought. All these are hidden things. We are told of the last days of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, David,—but not one word about Lot. Oh, what a gloomy death-bed the death-bed of Lot must have been!
The Scripture appears to draw a veil around him on purpose. There is a painful silence about his latter end. He seems to go out like an expiring lamp, and to leave an ill-savour behind him. And had we not been specially told in the New Testament that Lot was "just" and "righteous," I verily believe we should have doubted whether Lot was a saved soul at all.
But I do not wonder at his sad end. Lingering believers will generally reap according as they have sown. Their lingering often meets them when their spirit is departing. They have little peace at the last. They reach heaven, to be sure; but they reach it in poor plight, weary and footsore, in weakness and tears, in darkness and storm. They are saved, but "saved so as by fire." (1 Cor. 3:15.)
I ask every reader of this paper to consider the three things which I have just mentioned. Do not misunderstand my meaning. It is amazing to observe how readily people catch at the least excuse for misunderstanding the things that concern their souls!
I do not tell you that believers who do not "linger" will, as a matter of course, be great instruments of usefulness to the world. Noah preached one hundred and twenty years, and none believed him. The Lord Jesus was not esteemed by His own people, the Jews.
Nor yet do I tell you that believers who do not linger, will, as a matter of course, be the means of converting their families and relatives. David's children were, many of them, ungodly. The Lord Jesus was not believed on even by His own brethren.
But I do say it is almost impossible not to see some connection between Lot's evil choice and Lot's lingering;—and between Lot's lingering and his unprofitableness to his family and the world. I believe the Spirit meant us to see it. I believe the Spirit meant to
make him a beacon to all professing Christians. And I am sure the lessons I have tried to draw from the whole history, deserve serious reflection.
And now let me speak a few parting words to all who read this paper, and especially to all who call themselves believers in Christ.
I have no wish to make your hearts sad. I do not want to give you a gloomy view of the Christian course. My only object is to give you friendly warnings. I desire your peace and comfort. I would fain see you happy as well as safe,—and joyful, as well as justified. I speak as I have done for your good.
You live in days when a lingering, Lot-like religion abounds. The stream of profession is far broader than it once was, but far less deep in many places. A certain kind of Christianity is almost fashionable now. To belong to some party in the Church of England, and show a zeal for its interests,—to talk about the leading controversies of the day,—to buy popular religious books as fast as they come out, and lay them on your table,—to attend meetings,—to subscribe to Societies,— to discuss the merits of preachers,—to be enthusiastic and excited about every new form of sensational religion which crops up,—all these are now comparatively easy and common attainments. They no longer make a person singular. They require little or no sacrifice. They entail no cross.
But to walk closely with God,—to be really spiritually-minded,—to behave like strangers and pilgrims,—to be distinct from the world in employment of time, in conversation, in amusements, in dress,—to bear a faithful witness for Christ in all places,—to leave a savour of our Master in every society,—to be prayerful, humble, unselfish, good-tempered, quiet, easily pleased, charitable, patient, meek,—to be jealously afraid of all manner of sin, and tremblingly alive to our
danger from the world,—these, these are still rare things! They are not common among those who are called true Christians, and, worst of all the absence of them is not felt and bewailed as it should be.
In a day like this I venture to offer counsel to every believing reader of this paper. Do not turn away from it. Do not be angry with me for plain speaking. I bid you "give diligence to make your calling and election sure." (2 Peter 1:10.) I bid you not to be slothful,—not to be careless, not to be content with a small measure of grace,—not be satisfied with being a little better than the world. I solemnly warn you not to attempt doing what never can be done,—I mean, to serve Christ, and yet keep in with the world. I call upon you, and beseech you to be a whole-hearted Christian, to follow after eminent holiness, to aim at a high degree of sanctification, to live a consecrated life, to present your body a "living sacrifice" unto God, to "walk in the Spirit." (Rom. 12:1; Gal. 5:25.) I charge you, and exhort you,—by all your hopes of heaven, and desires of glory, if you would be happy, if you would be useful,—do not be a lingering soul.
Would you know what the times demand?—The shaking of nations,— the uprooting of ancient things,—the overturning of kingdoms,—the stir and restlessness of men's minds—what do they say? They all cry aloud,—Christian! do not linger!
Would you be found ready for Christ at His second appearing,—your loins girded,—your lamp burning. yourself bold, and prepared to meet Him? Then do not linger!
Would you enjoy much sensible comfort in your religion,—feel the witness of the Spirit within you,—know whom you have believed,— and not be a gloomy, complaining, sour, downcast, and melancholy Christian? Then do not linger!
Would you enjoy strong assurance of your own salvation, in the day of sickness, and on the bed of death?—Would you see with the eye of faith heaven opening, and Jesus rising to receive you? Then do not linger!
Would you leave great broad evidences behind you when you are gone?—Would you like us to lay you in the grave with comfortable hope, and talk of your state after death without a doubt? Then do not linger!
Would you be useful to the world in your day and generation?— Would you draw men from sin to Christ, adorn your doctrine, and make your Master's cause beautiful and attractive in their eyes? Then do not linger!
Would you help your children and relatives towards heaven, and make them say, "We will go with you"?—and not make them infidels and despisers of all religion? Then do not linger!
Would you have a great crown in the day of Christ's appearing, and not be the least and smallest star in glory, and not find yourself the last and lowest in the kingdom of God? Then do not linger!
Oh, let not one of us linger! Time does not,—death does not,— judgment does not,—the devil does not,—the world does not. Neither let the children of God linger.
Does any reader of this paper feel that he is a lingerer? Has your heart felt heavy, and your conscience sore, while you have been reading these pages? Does something within you whisper, "I am the man"? Then listen to what I am saying.—It is not well with your soul. Awake, and try to do better.
If you are a lingerer, you must just go to Christ at once and be cured. —You must use the old remedy; you must bathe in the old fountain. You must turn again to Christ and be healed. The way to do a thing is to do it. Do this at once?
Think not for a moment your case is past recovery. Think not, because you have been long living in a dry, sleepy, and heavy state of soul, that there is no hope of revival. Is not the Lord Jesus Christ an appointed Physician for all spiritual ailments? Did He not cure every form of disease when He was upon earth? Did not He cast out every kind of devil? Did He not raise poor backsliding Peter, and put a new song in his mouth? Oh, doubt not, but earnestly believe that He will yet revive His work within you! Only turn from lingering, and confess your folly, and come,—come at once to Christ. Blessed are the words of the prophet: "Only acknowledge thine iniquity."—"Return, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backsliding." (Jerem. 3:13, 22.)
And let us all remember the souls of others, as well as our own. If at any time we see any brother or sister lingering, let us try to awaken them,—try to arouse them,—try to stir them up. Let us all "exhort one another" as we have opportunity. "Let us provoke unto love and good works." (Heb. 3:13; 10:24.) Let us not be afraid to say to each other, "Brother, or sister, have you forgotten Lot? Awake! and remember Lot!—Awake, and linger no more."
X. A WOMAN TO BE REMEMBERED
"Remember Lot's Wife."—LUKE 17:32
THERE are few warnings in Scripture more solemn than that which heads this page. The Lord Jesus Christ says to us, "Remember Lot's wife."
Lot's wife was a professor of religion: her husband was a "righteous man." (2 Peter 2:8.) She left Sodom with him on the day when Sodom was destroyed; she looked back towards the city from behind her husband, against God's express command; she was struck dead at once, and turned into a pillar of salt. And the Lord Jesus Christ holds her up as a beacon to His Church: He says, "Remember Lot's wife."
It is a solemn warning, when we think of the person Jesus names. He does not bid us remember Abraham, or Isaac, or Jacob, or Sarah, or Hannah, or Ruth. No: He singles out one whose soul was lost for ever. He cries to us, "Remember Lot's wife."
It is a solemn warning, when we consider the subject Jesus is upon. He is speaking of His own second coming to judge the world: He is describing the awful state of unreadiness in which many will be found. The last days are on His mind, when He says, "Remember Lot's wife."
It is a solemn warning, when we think of the person who gives it. The Lord Jesus is full of love, mercy, and compassion: He is one who will not break the bruised reed nor quench the smoking flax. He could weep over unbelieving Jerusalem, and pray for the men that
crucified Him; yet even He thinks it good to remind us of lost souls. Even He says, "Remember Lot's wife."
It is a solemn warning, when we think of the persons to whom it was first given. The Lord Jesus was speaking to His disciples: He was not addressing the scribes and Pharisees, who hated Him, but Peter, James, and John, and many others who loved Him; yet even to them He thinks it good to address a caution. Even to them He says, "Remember Lot's wife."
It is a solemn warning, when we consider the manner in which it was given. He does not merely say, "Beware of following,—take heed of imitating,—do not be like Lot's wife." He uses a different word: He says, "Remember." He speaks as if we were all in danger or forgetting the subject; He stirs up our lazy memories; He bids us keep the case before our minds. He cries, "Remember Lot's wife."
I propose to examine the lessons which Lot's wife is meant to teach us. I am sure that her history is full of useful instruction to the Church. The last days are upon us; the second coming of the Lord Jesus draws nigh; the danger of worldliness is yearly increasing in the Church. Let us be provided with safeguards and antidotes against the disease that is around us; and, not least, let us become familiar with the story of Lot's wife.
There are three things which I shall do, in order to bring the subject before our minds in order.
I. I will speak of the religious privileges which Lot's wife enjoyed.
II. I will speak of the sin which Lot's wife committed.
III. I will speak of the judgment which God inflicted upon her
I. I will first speak of the religious privileges which Lot's wife enjoyed
In the days of Abraham and Lot, true saving religion was scarce upon earth: there were no Bibles, no ministers, no churches, no tracts, no missionaries. The knowledge of God was confined to a few favoured families; the greater part of the inhabitants of the world were living in darkness, ignorance, superstition, and sin. Not one in a hundred perhaps had such good example, such spiritual society, such clear knowledge, such plain warnings as Lot's wife. Compared with millions of her fellow-creatures in her time, Lot's wife was a favoured woman.
She had a godly man for her husband: she had Abraham, the father of the faithful, for her uncle by marriage. The faith, the knowledge, and the prayers of these two righteous men could have been no secret to her. It is impossible that she could have dwelt in tents with them for any length of time, without knowing whose they were and whom they served. Religion with them was no mere formal business; it was the ruling principle of their lives and the mainspring of all their actions. All this Lot's wife must have seen and known. This was no small privilege.
When Abram first received the promises, it is probable Lot's wife was there. When he built his altar by his tent between Hai and Bethel, it is probable she was there. When her husband was taken captive by Chedorlaomer, and delivered by God's interference, she was there. When Melchizedek, king of Salem, came forth to meet Abraham with bread and wine, she was there. When the angels came to Sodom and warned her husband to flee, she saw them; when they took them by the hand and led them out of the city, she was one of those whom they helped to escape. Once more, I say, these were no small privileges.
Yet what good effect had all these privileges on the heart of Lot's wife? None at all. Notwithstanding all her opportunities and means of grace,—notwithstanding all her special warnings and messages from heaven, she lived and died graceless, godless, impenitent, and unbelieving. The eyes of her understanding were never opened; her conscience was never really aroused and quickened; her will was never really brought into a state of obedience to God; her affections were never really set upon things above. The form of religion which she had was kept up for fashion's sake and not from feeling: it was a cloak worn for the sake of pleasing her company, but not from any sense of its value. She did as others did around her in Lot's house: she conformed to her husband's ways: she made no opposition to his religion: she allowed herself to be passively towed along in his wake: but all this time her heart was wrong in the sight of God. The world was in her heart, and her heart was in the world. In this state she lived, and in this state she died.
In all this there is much to be learned: I see a lesson here which is of the deepest importance in the present day. You live in times when there are many persons just like Lot's wife: come and hear the lesson which her case is meant to teach.
Learn, then, that the mere possession of religious privileges will save no one's soul. You may have spiritual advantages of every description; you may live in the full sunshine of the richest opportunities and means of grace; you may enjoy the best of preaching and the choicest instruction; you may dwell in the midst of light, knowledge, holiness, and good company. All this may be, and yet you yourself may remain unconverted, and at last be lost for ever.
I dare say this doctrine sounds hard to some readers. I know that many fancy they want nothing but religious privileges in order to
become decided Christians. They are not what they ought to be at present, they allow: but their position is so hard, they plead, and their difficulties are so many. Give them a godly husband, or a godly wife,—give them godly companions, or a godly master,—give them the preaching of the Gospel,—give them privileges, and then they would walk with God.
It is all a mistake. It is an entire delusion. It requires something more than privileges to save souls. Joab was David's captain; Gehazi was Elisha's servant; Demas was Paul's companion; Judas Iscariot was Christ's disciple; and Lot had a worldly unbelieving wife. These all died in their sins. They went down to the pit in spite of knowledge, warnings, and opportunities; and they all teach us that it is not privileges alone that men need. They need the grace of the Holy Ghost.
Let us value religious privileges, but let us not rest entirely upon them. Let us desire to have the benefit of them in all our movements in life, but let us not put them in the place of Christ. Let us use them thankfully, if God grants them to us, but let us take care that they produce some fruit in our heart and life. If they do not do good, they often do positive harm: they sear the conscience, they increase responsibility, they aggravate condemnation. The same fire which melts the wax hardens the clay; the same sun which makes the living tree grow, dries up the dead tree, and prepares it for burning. Nothing so hardens the heart of man as a barren familiarity with sacred things. Once more I say, it is not privileges alone which make people Christians, but the grace of the Holy Ghost. Without that no man will ever be saved.
I ask the members of Evangelical congregations, in the present day, to mark well what I am saying. You go to Mr. A's, or Mr. B's church:
you think him an excellent preacher; you delight in his sermons; you cannot hear any one else with the same comfort; you have learned many things since you attended his ministry; you consider it a great privilege to be one of his hearers! All this is very good. It is a privilege. I should be thankful if ministers like yours were multiplied a thousandfold. But after all, what have you got in your heart? Have you yet received the Holy Ghost? If not, you are no better than Lot's wife.
I ask the servants of religious families to mark well what I am saying. It is a great privilege to live in a house where the fear of God reigns. It is a privilege to hear family prayers morning and evening, to hear the Word of God regularly expounded, to have a quiet Sunday, and to be able always to go to church. These are the things that you ought to seek after when you try to get a situation: these axe the things which make a really good place. High wages and light work will never make up for a constant round of worldliness, Sabbath-breaking, and sin. But take heed that you do not rest content with these things: do not suppose because you have all these spiritual advantages, that you will of course go to heaven. You must have grace in your own heart, as well as attend family prayers. If not, you are at present no better than Lot's wife.
I ask the children of religious parents to mark well what I am saying. It is the highest privilege to be the child of a godly father and mother, and to be brought up in the midst of many prayers. It is a blessed thing indeed to be taught the Gospel from our earliest infancy, and to hear of sin, and Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, and holiness, and heaven, from the first moment we can remember anything. But, oh, take heed that you do not remain barren and unfruitful in the sunshine of all these privileges: beware lest your heart remains hard, impenitent and worldly, notwithstanding the many advantages you enjoy. You
cannot enter the kingdom of God on the credit of your parents' religion. You must eat the bread of life for yourself, and have the witness of the Spirit in your own heart. You must have repentance of your own faith of your own, and sanctification of your own. If not, you are no better than Lot's wife.
I pray God that all professing Christians, in these days, may lay these things to heart. May we never forget that privileges alone cannot save us. Light and knowledge, and faithful preaching, and abundant means of grace, and the company of holy people are all great blessings and advantages. Happy are they that have them! But, after all, there is one thing without which privileges are useless: that one thing is the grace of the Holy Ghost. Lot's wife had many privileges: but Lot's wife had no grace.
II. I will next speak of the sin which Lots wife committed
The history of her sin is given by the Holy Ghost in few and simple words:—"She looked back from behind her husband, and she became a pillar of salt." We are told no more than this. There is a naked solemnity about the history. The sum and substance of her transgression lies in these three words, "She looked back."
Does that sin seem small in the eyes of any reader of this paper? Does the fault of Lot's wife appear a trifling one to be visited with such a punishment? This is the feeling, I dare say, that rises in some hearts. Give me your attention while I reason with you on the subject. There was far more in that look than strikes you at first sight: it implied far more than it expressed. Listen, and you shall hear.
(a) That look was a little thing, but it revealed the true character of Lot's wife. Little things will often show the state of a man's mind
even better than great ones, and little symptoms are often the signs of deadly and incurable diseases. The apple that Eve ate was a little thing, but it proved that she had fallen from innocence and become a sinner. A crack in an arch seems a little thing, but it proves that the foundation is giving way, and the whole fabric is unsafe. A little cough in a morning seems an unimportant ailment, but it is often an evidence of failing in the constitution, and leads on to decline, consumption, and death. A straw may show which way the wind blows, and one look may show the rotten condition of a sinner's heart. (Matt. 5:28.)
(b) That look was a little thing, but it told of disobedience in Lot's wife. The command of the angel was strait and unmistakable: "Look not behind thee." (Gen. 19:17.) This command Lot's wife refused to obey. But the Holy Ghost says, that "to obey is better than sacrifice," and that "rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft." (1 Sam. 15:22, 23.) When God speaks plainly by His Word, or by His messengers, man's duty is clear.
(c) That look was a little thing, but it told of proud unbelief in Lot's wife. She seemed to doubt whether God was really going to destroy Sodom: she appeared not to believe there was any danger, or any need for such a hasty flight. But without faith it is impossible to please God. (Heb. 11:6.) The moment a man begins to think he knows better than God, and that God does not mean anything when He threatens, his soul is in great danger. When we cannot see the reason of God's dealings, our duty is to hold our peace and believe.
(d) That look was a little thing, but it told of secret love of the world in Lot's wife. Her heart was in Sodom, though her body was outside. She had left her affections behind when she fled from her home. Her eye turned to the place where her treasure was, as the compass-
needle turns to the pole. And this was the crowning point of her sin. "The friendship of the world is enmity with God." (James 4:4.) "If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." (1 John 2:15.)