Lot evidently longed after the scene which he was forced by angelic power to abandon; for not only had the angels to lay hold of him and hasten him away from the impending judgment, but even when exhorted to escape for _his life_ (which was all he could save from the wreck) and flee to the mountain, he replies, "Oh! not so, my Lord: behold, now, thy servant hath found grace in thy sight, and thou hast magnified thy mercy which thou hast showed unto me in saving _my life_; and I cannot escape to the mountain, lest some evil take me and I die: behold, now, _this city_ is near to flee unto, and it is a little one: oh, let me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live." What a picture! He seems like a drowning man, ready to catch even at a floating feather. Though commanded by the angel to flee to the mountain, he refuses, and still fondly clings to the idea of "a little city,"--some little shred of the world. He feared death in the place to which God was mercifully directing him,--yea, he feared all manner of evil, and could only hope for safety in some little city, some spot of his own devising. "Oh, let me escape _thither, and my soul shall live_." How sad! There is no casting himself wholly upon God. Alas! he had too long walked at a distance from him; too long breathed the dense atmosphere of a "city," to be able to appreciate the pure air of the divine presence, or lean on the arm of the Almighty. His soul seemed completely unhinged; his worldly nest had been abruptly broken up, and he was not quite able to nestle himself, by faith, in the bosom of God. He had not been cultivating communion with the invisible world; and, now, the visible was passing away from beneath his feet with tremendous rapidity. The "fire and brimstone from heaven" were about to fall upon that in which all his hopes and all his affections were centred. The thief had broken in upon him, and he seems entirely divested of spiritual nerve and self-possession. He is at his wits' end; but the worldly element, being strong in his heart, prevails, and he seeks his only refuge in "a little city." Yet he is not at ease even there, for he leaves it and gets up to the mountain. He does through fear what he would not do at the command of God's messenger.
And then, see his end! His own children make him drunk, and in his drunkenness he becomes the instrument of bringing into existence the Ammonites and the Moabites,--the determined enemies of the people of God. What a volume of solemn instruction is here! Oh, my reader, see here what the world is! see what a fatal thing it is to allow the heart to go out after it! What a commentary is Lot's history upon that brief but comprehensive admonition, "Love not the world!" This world's Sodoms and its Zoars are all alike. There is no security, no peace, no rest, no solid satisfaction for the heart therein. The judgment of God hangs over the whole scene; and he only holds back the sword, in long-suffering mercy, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
Let us, then, seek to pursue a path of holy separation from the world. Let us, while standing outside its entire range, be found cherishing the hope of the Master's return. May its well-watered plains have no charms for our hearts. May its honors, its distinctions, and its riches, be all surveyed by us in the light of the coming glory of Christ. May we be enabled, like the holy patriarch Abraham, to get up into the presence of the Lord, and, from that elevated ground, look forth upon the scene of wide-spread ruin and desolation,--to see it all, by faith's anticipative glance, a smoking ruin. _Such it will be._ "The earth also, and the things that are therein, shall be burned up." All that about which the children of this world are so intensely anxious--after which they are so eagerly grasping--for which they are so fiercely contending--all--all will be burned up. And who can tell how soon? "Where is Sodom? Where is Gomorrah? Where are the cities of the plain,--those cities which were once all life, and stir, and bustle? Where are they now? All gone! swept away by the judgment of God! Consumed by his fire and brimstone!" Well, his judgments now hang over this guilty world. The day is at hand; and, while judgments impend, the sweet story of grace is being told out to many an ear. Happy they who hear and believe that story! Happy they who flee to the strong mountain of God's salvation! who take refuge behind the cross of the Son of God, and therein find pardon and peace!
God grant that the reader of these lines may know what it is, with a conscience purged from sin, and his heart's affections purged from the defiling influence of the world, to wait for the Son from heaven.