Back to Normal
But Lot’s wife looked back as she was following behind him, and she turned into a pillar of salt. (Gen. 19:26)
A priest, a minister and a rabbi wanted to determine who was the best at their job. So they decided that each would go into the woods, find a bear and attempt to convert the grizzly. After several hours in the forest the priest, the minister and the rabbi returned to compare notes. The priest began the discussion: “I know you won’t believe this, but when I found the bear I read to him from the Catechism and sprinkled him with holy water. Praise God, next week will be his First Communion!” Not to be outdone, the minister said, “I found my bear by the stream and persuasively preached God’s Word to him. He must have been so mesmerized by my oratory that he let me baptize him. We have a new brother in Christ!” The priest and the minister then looked at the rabbi who was lying on a gurney in a body cast. “What happened to you?” they said. Reflecting on his condition, the rabbi moaned, “You know, looking back on it, I think I shouldn’t have started the conversation with circumcision.”
He sat there at the gate of the city, watching the sun as it started its descent over the rooftops of the skyline; watching as it slowly sank into the western horizon. Typical events that had become the trademark for this town had made this day pretty much like all the others. Passing across his desk that day had been the notes and complaints of some city residents: one who thought that recent night-life arrests were, perhaps, a bit over the top; a few disturbing the peace complaints; and a reminder from his wife that, in a few weeks, he needed to book the band and the banquet hall for his two daughters’ upcoming weddings. Frankly, he wasn’t too thrilled with his future sons-in-law and had tried to talk to his daughters about his concerns, but both of them just laughed him off. Love, right?
And his wife. It seemed like she’d changed – all she thought about lately was getting ahead of the neighbors. And he couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen her open her Bible – other than Sunday mornings at church. And church – that was another interesting topic. Attendance was dropping almost every week. In fact, someone told him after church one Sunday, “You know, at this rate, it won’t be long until there’ll be fewer than 10 of us here.” “Terrific,” he thought.
Twisting the lid on his Fiji water, memories of his childhood came flooding back. The hurriedness of that evening; the huddled relatives; the hushed conversations. He knew dad was sick, but not that sick. And then his uncle came, and with a tear in his eye and a catch in his throat told him, “Your daddy’s gone, son; you can live with me.” He’d suffered his share of hard knocks, alright. But through it all he’d seen his uncle’s love for not only him, but for God, too. He remembered the day his uncle had given him his first herd of cattle. “All yours,” he said. “Make yourself successful, boy!” And by all accounts he’d done exactly that. Soon, one herd bred another, and another until – before long – his livestock company was thriving.
And then came the time when his uncle brought him in for the “talk.” The time had come to part ways and, being the great uncle he’d come to expect, the decision was given to the nephew to take his pick of the land. So, he said goodbye to his uncle, aunt and cousins and moved to the “Big City.”
It didn’t take long until he’d been voted on the City Council. Then the Mayor’s spot was up for election; he’d won by a landslide. And then he spotted her. “Wow, she’s gorgeous!” And for her? Well, finding out he was a millionaire didn’t hurt in becoming the wife of the Mayor.
So the wedding was planned, the years had passed and they’d been blessed with two beautiful girls – the apple of their daddy’s eye. But now, sitting there on the bench by the gate, he wiped away a few tears. God, the church, his wife, his girls, the city … it seemed as if he were losing them one by one. Oh, the economy was fine. In fact, construction was booming and people seemed happy. But the church, his relationship with God, his family’s relationship (especially with his wife), it almost seemed, well … non-existent. “We really do need to get recommitted this year,” he muttered to himself. And that’s when the angels appeared.
They told him to leave the city with his family. But when he told his family about what the angels had said, his future sons-in-law thought he was an idiot. But by dawn the next morning, the angels were insistent. "Hurry," they said. "Take your wife and your two daughters and get out of here. Now!" When Lot still hesitated, the angels seized his hand, and those of his wife and two daughters, and rushed them to safety outside the city. "Run for your lives!" the angels warned. "Don’t stop anywhere in the valley. And don’t look back. Go to the mountains, or you’ll die." The sun was rising as Lot reached the safety of the village. Then the Lord rained down fire and burning sulfur from the heavens. Sodom and Gomorrah were utterly destroyed, along with the other cities and villages in the plain. All life – people, plants and animals – was eliminated. But Lot’s wife, following behind, looked back and turned into a pillar of salt.
What a bizarre story. A woman, wife of the millionaire mayor of the town, runs away from a doomed city, looks back, freezes in her tracks and dies. It sounds like something you’d see on the Sci-Fi channel. She belonged to an extraordinary family; she was even a shirt-tail relative to Jesus. She shared their faith, and her name was probably on the membership role at church; maybe she even headed up the ladies’ small group. Having Abraham as an uncle and Lot as her husband, it’s probably fair to assume that she was a woman who had a knowledge of God. But something had happened. Somewhere along the way she’d gotten to the point where Sodom was living in her, and not the other way around. Sodom was such a wicked city that it stank to high heaven yet this woman, perhaps even a one-time Trustee on the church Board, had fallen in love with Sodom despite her religious exposure.
But even then she wasn’t alone. Uncle Abraham probably prayed for her and Lot and the kids every night. Even God remembered her address so that when the day of ruin was to come, God sent his messengers to her house. And she couldn’t say that she hadn’t been warned – she’d been given the unique opportunity to escape. But despite a visitor from heaven warning her to get outta Dodge, she still failed. How? How could she come to such a horrible end when she’d been warned? Here’s a few ideas.
I don’t think she failed because of unbelief. When the angels came and gave their warning, she believed them. Scripture doesn’t say that she laughed at them, or teased them or even made fun of them. No, her belief, in fact, had put her in the very small minority of an entire city and she responded to the message. Granted, we don’t find a lot of enthusiasm, but at least she acted. In fact, she did what her husband did – she lingered.
Life and promise were waiting for her at the top of the hill, while death was pressing in at her ankles. But she lingered. Apparently she was determined to cling to Sodom just as long as she could. In fact, even the angels had to grab her by the hand and rush the family to safety outside the city. Sound familiar? Maybe we’ve lingered until the best years of our life have slipped away, or so we think. Maybe we’ve lingered until the world’s grip is so strong that even when we try to move toward God it seems virtually impossible. Albeit reluctantly, at least Mrs. Lot made a start.
So, maybe the wrong wasn’t so much in the looking back part; maybe it was more what the look represented: a will unwilling to completely surrender to God. Mrs. Lot may have looked back because she was still in love with Sodom – even though she was running away. Life was calling her from the hills, but Sodom was screaming from the plain. She was torn; she didn’t know which way to look. Divided hearts will do that – they rob us of joy. Oh, the warning was clearly given to her: destruction was coming in the morning. And with that kind of warning you’d think that she would’ve been running faster than her rescuers. But her heart was divided. Sodom didn’t look all that bad, and in wrestling with the two choices – Sodom or safety – her joy had slipped away.
Split affections slow our progress, too. Mrs. Lot’s divided heart slowed her forward progress. Remember, she looked back from behind Lot. It doesn’t take long for a divided heart to fall behind. It cripples our walk; it weakens our power; it diminishes our prayer life; it flounders our devotional time to the point that it’s obvious by our walk that we’re crippled and can’t keep up. Can you see the struggle? Her struggle. Every step becomes slower than the last. The others are racing to freedom with God, while Mrs. Lot? Well, just watch her. She’s slowing and then she stops. She hears, “Go back. Turn around. That’s where all your friends are. That’s where all the good times are.” But in the other ear she hears, “Keep going. Climb the mountain. Better days are ahead.”
Self says, “Don’t go forward.” God says, “Get moving.” See her standing at the point of decision? She even hears the roar of destruction and feels the heat through her sandals. It’s decision time now, Mrs. Lot. But one last time her divided heart says, “Don’t worry. It’ll be OK. Just turn around and go back home; go back to normal.” So, she looks back and becomes a pillar of salt. No second chance; no next church service; no nothing. Looking back is a step toward going back. Jesus said, "No one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." (Luke 9:62) When we look longingly upon our past, it deprives us of the gift that is today – that’s why it’s called the present. It deprives us of joy and keeps us from progress. And, if we’re not careful, it could cost us our lives.
So is it back to normal? Or, is it the new normal? Unfortunately, the “new normal” discourse sanitizes the idea that our present is okay because normal is regular. Jesus said, “Remember Lot’s wife.” (Luke 17:32) Pretty good advice, even if the new normal isn’t really that new, or normal.
Grace,
Randy
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