It might have given wings to his flight. Urgent, and resonant, like the morning bugle, it bids him be stirring lest he be swept away ‘in the punishment of the city.’ Observe that the same word means ‘sin’ and ‘punishment,’-a testimony to the profound truth that at bottom they are...
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It might have given wings to his flight. Urgent, and resonant, like the morning bugle, it bids him be stirring lest he be swept away ‘in the punishment of the city.’ Observe that the same word means ‘sin’ and ‘punishment,’-a testimony to the profound truth that at bottom they are one, sin being pain in the root, pain being sin in the flower. So our own word ‘evil’ covers all the ground, and means both sin and sorrow. But even that pealing note does not shatter his hesitation. He still lingers. What kept him? That which had first taken him there-material advantages. He had struck root in Sodom. The tent life which he had kept to at first has been long given up; we find him sitting in the gate of the city, the place for gossip and friendly intercourse. He has either formed, or is going to form, marriage alliances for his daughters with men of the city who are as black as the rest. Perhaps his wife, whom the story will not name, for pity or for horror, was a Sodomite. To escape meant to leave all this and his wealth behind. If he goes out, he goes out a pauper. So his heart, which is where his treasure is, makes his movements slow. What insanity his lingering must have seemed to the angels! I wonder if we, who cling so desperately to the world, and who are so slow to go where God would have us to be for our own safety, if thereby we shall lose anything of this world’s wealth, seem very much wiser to eyes made clear-sighted with the wisdom of heaven.