Lot (3)

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. iii. 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. xix. 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” 160command not to do so (Gen. xix. 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 Mind 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 how low the 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 deathbed the deathbed 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. iii. 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 162of 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 i. 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. xii. 1; Gal. v. 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 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 He not 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 return 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. iii. 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. iii. 13; x. 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.”