This beautiful chapter shows us the man of faith recovering himself. through the Faithfulness and loving-kindness of God, who never allows such to wander far, or tarry long away. The gold and silver, the flocks and herds of Egypt, could not long prove a satisfying portion for Abram, while deprived of his tent and his altar, and he therefore once more, in the renewed energy of faith rises, as it were, from the dust of Egypt, and retraces his steps to the land of promise. Happy recovery! Certain evidence of a fixed and honest purpose to serve the Lord. “The ship may be tossed by the waves and the winds, but the magnet still points to the north.”
But some expressions in the opening of this chapter confirm most fully a thought already expressed, namely, that Abram gained nothing, “as before God,” by his visit to Egypt. Thus, for example, “Abram went on his journeys.... unto the place where his tent had been at the beginning, unto the place of the altar which he had made there at the first.” (Vers. 3, 4.) The words “beginning,” and “at the first,” prove that Abram had made no progress while in Egypt, but that, while there, all his time was, as it were, lost. No doubt he learned a wholesome lesson, and it is well when by our failures we learn to distrust our own hearts, and dread the pernicious influence of the world. Abram learned that there could be no tent or altar in Egypt. It is only faith that can enable a man to raise an altar or erect a tent, but in Egypt all is sight and not faith, and hence, the moment Abram set his foot there he ceased to show forth the genuine fruits of faith—yea, the very principle which led him to leave the land of promise. led him, at the same time, to relinquish his character as a stranger and a worshiper.
How forcibly are we here reminded of a proposal made long after this, by a king of Egypt, to Abraham’s seed. “And Pharaoh called for Moses and Aaron, and said: Go ye, sacrifice to your God in the land.” (Ex. 8:2525And Pharaoh called for Moses and for Aaron, and said, Go ye, sacrifice to your God in the land. (Exodus 8:25).) Thus, it would seem ever to have been the design of the enemy to get the people of God, the holy seed, to defile themselves by worshiping or sacrificing to God, in the world; i.e., to make their character, as worshipers of God, accord with that of men of the world—men holding a place in society where Christ is an outcast; thus, of course, declaring that there is no difference between the religion of the world and the religion of God—a truly fearful delusion, calculated to lead many souls out of the way of truth and holiness.
It is most sad to hear, at times, those who surely ought to know better, in order, as they say, to manifest a liberal spirit, speaking of the religion of the world in all its multiplied forms, as if it were all right; or, as if it were a matter of total indifference whether we remained in communion with error or not. Oh, let us not be deceived! God’s principle of separation is as strong and as binding today as it was in the days of Abram or Moses. “Come out from among them, and be ye separate, and touch not the unclean thing,” must hold good as long as the “unclean thing” exists; nor can any outward form alter the character—the true essential character of “the unclean thing” so as to make it “a clean thing.”
Moses, then, was not liberal, in the above acceptation of the word, for he at once refused to countenance the religion of the world. “It is not meet so to do.” Memorable words! Would that there were more amongst us who, when invited to countenance the religion of the world, would reply, “It is not meet so to do.” Abram could not worship in Egypt, neither could his seed.
But Abram had more difficulties than one to encounter in his course. The path which every man of faith is called to tread lies between two dangerous extremes. One is the temptation to return to the world; the other, to strive with brethren by the way. Abram had just recovered himself from the effects of the former, and we have now to behold him buffeting the latter.
The moment Abram emerged from Egypt, he appeared in a special manner to move under a new responsibility, namely, responsibility to his brother to walk with him in harmony. While in Egypt, this responsibility stood quite in the shade. The institutions—laws—habits—luxury and ease of Egypt, would in an eminent degree tend to do away with every such feeling. All these things would have had the effect of erecting barriers around each individual tending to prevent him from recognizing the fact that he was his “brother’s keeper.” Nor is it otherwise now. So long as we continue in the world —the religious world, as it is termed—we shall find ourselves completely relieved from the difficult task of being our “brother’s keeper.” Those who advocate a continuance therein may deny this fact, but it is all in vain, for Scripture and experience alike demonstrate it. Abram and Lot did not strive in Egypt, and a religious establishment presents this attraction at least—and it is by no means a feeble one—it effectually prevents brotherly collision; and, of course, where there is no collision there can be no strife —no dispute; where collision takes place, there must be either grace to enable us to walk in unity of mind, or strife and contention. But Egypt saps the very springs of grace by leading us out of a place of simple dependence upon the Lord, (for dependence ever genders grace and forbearance) and because she does so, she, at the same time, teaches us, or attempts at least to teach us, that we do not need grace, by leading us into a sphere in which responsibility to brethren is never realized; thus the need is not felt; weakness is mistaken for strength, folly for wisdom.
When the Christian at first starts on his course, he fondly dreams of nothing but perfection in his fellow Christians; but in this he soon finds himself mistaken, for we have all our infirmities, and as the apostle states, “In many things we offend all.” But why, we may ask, was there such a speedy development of infirmity upon their coming up out of Egypt? Because they were now called to walk in the power of a naked principle, without any of the props or barriers of Egypt. They were called to walk by faith, and “faith worketh by love.”
Now “the Canaanite,” etc., “was then in the land.” This should have acted as a hindrance to any strife between “brethren,” for the Canaanite cannot understand anything about the infirmities of believers, and he therefore puts all their failure down to some defect in the principle professed.
But in every strife between brethren, there must be fault somewhere. In the contention between Paul and Barnabas there was fault somewhere. Nor can we be at any loss to decide where it lay. Barnabas wished to take his relative with him, but this relative had before proved himself unfit, or at least unwilling, to “endure hardness,” therefore it could not have been with a single eye to the Lord’s work that Barnabas desired his company. The Lord Himself, too, at once takes Paul’s side of the question by providing him with a dear son and fellow-laborer, in the person of Timothy, with whom he had “none like-minded.”
So it is exactly in the case before us. We can have no hesitation in asserting that Lot was the man in error here. Lot does not appear to have fully got rid of the spirit of the world, and where there is this spirit predominating in any one he will ever find the path of faith too strait for him to walk in, and so it was, “They could not dwell together.”
If, then, it be asked on what grounds one would pronounce Lot to have been in the wrong? The answer is, first, Lot’s subsequent conduct; and, second, the Lord’s dealings with Abram, “after that Lot was separated from him.”
What then did Lot do? “He lifted up his eyes.” This is ever our mode of acting when not under the direct power of faith. Whenever we lift up our eyes without divine direction, we are sure to go wrong. I say, without divine direction, for we find the Lord afterward directing Abram to lift up his eyes, but then that was totally different from Lot’s act, which was simply the suggestion of mere human wisdom and foresight. Human wisdom and fore sight, however, can never assist our progress as men of faith—no, quite the reverse; human wisdom will ever suggest things which, if acted upon, will lead us right athwart the path of a man of faith. Therefore Lot, in lifting up his eyes, could not penetrate beyond the “things that are seen and temporal.” Such was the utmost bound of his range of vision. The things on which his eyes rested were those with which he had been conversant while in Egypt, as we read, “He beheld all the plain of Jordan that it was well watered every where... like the land of Egypt.” (10.) Here we observe that Lot had never been really detached in heart and affection from Egypt—he had never learned the vanity and unsatisfactoriness of all her resources in the light of a better order of things—he had never contrasted her with that “city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God”—in a word, he “having put his hand to the plow,” was now beginning “to look back,” and thus to prove himself “unfit for the kingdom of heaven.”
There is a striking notice of all this afforded in the opening verse of this chapter, “Abram went up out of Egypt and Lot with him.” Here we get the secret of Lot’s after instability. He appears to have gone up rather with Abram than with God, and the consequence was that, when he parted with Abram, he had nothing to lean upon. He had been hitherto moving under Abram’s protection and guidance instead of being directly before the Lord, and therefore when he lost Abram he went astray.
Now then is the moment for Abram to “lift up his eyes,” at the Lord’s command, and oh, what a different range of vision was his! While Lot could not penetrate beyond the narrow limits of the present scene, Abram was enabled to survey the length and breadth of God’s inheritance. He soars on the strong and rapid pinion of faith, and is, as it were, lost in the unbounded beneficence of God; while Lot, the man walking by sight, is well-nigh lost in the deep gulf of Sodom’s corruption.
Let us then, ere we enter upon the next chapter, take a view of the different circumstances of these two men who had started together. “Lot lifted up his eyes,” and the prospect on which they rested was, as might be expected, such as suited his natural desires, “well-watered plains,” which, however fair in man’s view, were nevertheless, in the sight of the Lord, filled with exceeding wickedness. (Comp. vers. 10 and 14.) Abram, on the contrary, had allowed his eye to wander over the length and breadth of the promised inheritance—uninfluenced by all else, he viewed the portion which God was reserving for him and his seed, and took up his position accordingly.
Thus do we find Lot in the unhallowed region of Sodom; and Abram—the pilgrim and stranger, with his tent and altar— “in the plain of Mamre, which is in Hebron.”