Genesis 16:1–19:38

The fifteenth chapter may be called Abram's faith chapter. The sixteenth is the chapter of unbelief. It was impatience which forced Sarai and Abram to act for themselves. Unbelief is impatience and impatience is unbelief. Faith waits patiently for the Lord, and on the Lord, to act.

It is one thing to believe a promise at first. It is quite another thing to wait quietly for it to be kept. We see this difference in a child all the time. If I promise my child anything, he has no idea of doubting my word. Yet I can see the greatest possible restlessness and impatience about when and how it will happen.

Had Sarai said, "Nature has failed me, but God is my resource," how different it would have been! That would have been her proper ground, for nature really had failed her. But it was nature in one shape, and so she wished to try nature in another. She had not learned to look away from nature in every shape. In the judgement of God, and of faith, nature in Hagar was no better than nature in Sarai.

Hagar the Egyptian (Genesis 16:3) later caused great sorrow and trouble in his household, and she became the mother of Ishmael. Was she one of those maidservants given to Abraham for Sarah's sake in Egypt? It seems very probable that this was the case.

Abram, urged on by Sarah, tried to anticipate the will of God and the keeping of the promise in its time. So in Hagar we have the covenant of the law, the source of distress and unrest… Man is in haste. He will not wait God's time, and he will not wait on Him about how the promise is to be kept. This is full of moral warning to us. It is always the source of unrest and sorrow. Hagar, too, was an Egyptian — a reminder also of the lack of faith in Abram.

Abram's experience with the Lord in Genesis 15 ought to have strengthened him. He should have been sure that God's promise would stand, even though they had had to wait so long for it… But he listened to the voice of Sarai instead of listening to the voice of God alone.

Remember, it was Sarah, not Abraham, who took the lead in the whole sad affair of Hagar. She gave her to her own husband. She treated her so harshly that she ran away. And in the end it was Sarah who made the angry demand to cast out the slave woman and her son — a demand God approved.

Who would have seen the difference between law and promise when Hagar and Ishmael quarrelled with Sarah and Isaac? The Spirit of God not only saw it. He intended the record of these events to be the beautiful foreshadowing of the two covenants. The covenant of law has only a child of the flesh. The covenant of promise brings forth in due time the child of the Spirit.

Chapter 16 is a parenthesis. Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it good without God. But then Abram is set aside. His body is now dead at ninety-nine years old. God reveals Himself and says: "I am going to give you many descendants."… That is, now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Here we find unbelief casting its dark shadow across the spirit of Abraham... "And Sarai said to Abram, Behold now, the LORD has prevented me from bearing children." These words show the usual impatience of unbelief. Abraham should have treated them as such, and waited patiently on the Lord to fulfil His gracious promise. The poor heart naturally prefers anything to the attitude of waiting. It will turn to any expedient — any scheme — any resource, rather than be kept in that posture. It is one thing to believe a promise at the first, and quite another thing to wait quietly for it to be fulfilled... Abraham shows faith in Genesis 15, yet fails in patience in Genesis 16... God makes a promise, faith believes it; hope expects it; patience waits quietly for it.

Faith does not reject earthly blessings when God gives them; but when someone tries to run ahead of God's time, it always brings sorrow. God will certainly perform His promise, but in His own way and time. Nature was impatient and could not wait. Unbelief made Sarai say that she was not included in the promise. Failure in this case seems greater in Sarai than in Abram. Still, he, like Adam, listened to his wife instead of trusting God. Hagar's son Ishmael is born. Sarai becomes envious, Hagar presuming. The result is strife in the household. This is always the case where the head of the house forgets his responsibility to God.

In the famine mentioned earlier, Egypt was near at hand, offering a refuge from worry about daily supply. The same thing happens here. "An Egyptian maid" — one of those maidservants, no doubt, that Abram had picked up during his stay in that evil place — was held out to him as relief in his worry about the promised seed. "And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai."

To see the promise fulfilled, Abram did not need to fall back on a means that was merely human, and morally wrong as well. But he listened to the voice of Sarai instead of giving his full attention to the voice of God.

Flesh is impatient and wants the result at once, in its own way. She proposes her Egyptian servant Hagar, and Abram listens instead of walking by faith... The Letter to the Galatians gives the certain clue to what we might otherwise never have understood. It is the covenant of Sinai that she represents... The law brings not peace but wrath, not the fulfilment of the promise but fleshly pride, and a child born in sorrow who cannot be the heir... The believer has no more to do with it for himself now than Abram then should have taken Hagar.

Sarai stands for the principle of grace. And here is one of the strangest, saddest things in a believer's experience: what ought to be the source of fruitfulness in his life and walk looks barren... It is Sarai's barrenness that troubles us. And how, in this distress, Sarai herself seems to urge us to leave her, persuading us that Hagar may build her up!

Without doubt Sarah was more to blame than Abram. In short, it was haste, springing from an obvious lack of faith. So she gave Hagar to her husband, and the results of that union soon appeared. As always, the one most to blame suffered the most.

The poor heart prefers anything to the attitude of waiting. It will turn to any scheme, any resource, rather than be kept in that position. It is one thing to believe a promise at first. It is quite another to wait quietly for it to be fulfilled... Abraham shows faith in Genesis 15, and yet he fails in patience in Genesis 16. So we feel the force and beauty of the apostle's word in Hebrews 6: "followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises." God makes a promise. Faith believes it, hope looks forward to it, and patience waits quietly for it.

He had promised a son, no doubt, but He had not said that this son would be Hagar's. In fact, the story shows that both Abraham and Sarah "multiplied their sorrow" by turning to Hagar. For "when she saw that she had conceived, her mistress was despised in her eyes." This was but the beginning of those multiplied sorrows, which flowed from hurrying after nature's resources. An Egyptian slave-woman trampled down Sarah's dignity, and Sarah found herself in the place of weakness and contempt. The only true place of dignity and power is the place of felt weakness and dependence.

Sarai could never be bound to the child the way his own mother would be. Verse 3 says she gave her maid to Abram "as his wife." So the child could not belong to Sarai at all. Hagar knew this. When she conceived, she despised Sarai, because Hagar had done what Sarai could not.

Abram takes Hagar to have a child by her. Believers today do the same when they take up the law as a way to bear fruit, not for justification at all. Their very thought is the thing on trial here. At first the effect seems all anyone could wish: fruit comes at once. Only when God speaks does it become clear that Ishmael is not the promised seed after all. The immediate result is, Sarai is despised... So it ever is. Once you admit the principle of law, what is law if it is not sovereign? Faith may still cling to barren Sarai and own her, but the principle now brought in is still the exact opposite of it.

The letter to the Galatians gives us the sure clue to what we might otherwise never have understood. Hagar stands for the covenant of Sinai, which answers to the Jerusalem of today, in bondage with her children. The law works not peace but wrath. It does not bring the promise about; it produces pride in the flesh, and a child born in sorrow who cannot be heir... The believer has no more to do with the law for himself now than Abram then should have taken Hagar.

Sarah was only reaping the fruit of her own proposal, and yet she laid the blame on Abraham... This will not do. Hard treatment will not get rid of the slave woman. When we make mistakes and have to face the results, we cannot undo them by acting with a high hand... If we have done wrong, we should humble ourselves and confess the wrong, and wait on God for deliverance.

Sarah was certainly more to blame than Abram. In short, she acted in haste, through an obvious lack of faith. So she gave Hagar to her husband, and the fruit of that union soon appeared. As always, she who was most to blame suffered the most... But we have again in this chapter the faithfulness of God even in the case of Hagar, who is told to return to her mistress and humble herself before her.

"And Sarai said, May the wrong done to me be on you!" When we act wrongly, we are often quick to lay the blame on someone else. Sarah was only reaping the fruit of her own proposal. Yet she says to Abraham, "May the wrong done to me be on you!" Then, with Abraham's permission, she tries to get rid of the trial her own impatience had brought on her.

Sarai blames Abram for the situation that arose after Hagar's conception. She asks the Lord to judge between her and Abram. No doubt she felt that Hagar was in effect robbing her of her husband. Abram did not remind her that the whole matter was her suggestion. But he made it clear to her that he had no intention of considering Hagar his wife.

Sarai should surely have realized that a child born in this way would not be hers at all. She could never be attached to the child in the way his own mother would be. In fact, verse 3 describes her giving her maid to Abram as giving her to him "as his wife." So the child could not possibly belong to Sarai. Hagar knew this. When she had conceived, she despised Sarai, because Hagar had achieved what Sarai could not.

If we have done wrong, we should humble ourselves and confess the wrong, and wait on God for deliverance. But there was nothing like this shown in Sarah's case. Quite the reverse. There is no sense of having done wrong. Far from waiting on God for deliverance, she tries to rescue herself in her own way. Yet we will always find that every effort to fix our errors, before we fully confess them, only makes our path harder.

The fifteenth chapter may be called Abram's faith chapter. The sixteenth is the chapter of unbelief. It was impatience which forced Sarai and Abram to act for themselves. Unbelief is impatience and impatience is unbelief. Faith waits patiently for the Lord, and on the Lord, to act. "Whoever believes will not be in haste." Abram and Sarai attempted to help the Lord fulfil His promise. What a failure they made of it!

God will perform His promise surely, but in His own way and time. Nature was impatient, and could not wait... Failure in this case seems greater in Sarai than in Abram. Still, he, like Adam, listened to his wife instead of trusting God. Ishmael is born. Sarai becomes envious, Hagar presumptuous. Household strife is the result.

Grace forgives the sin and restores the soul, but we still reap what we sow. Abraham and Sarah had to put up with the slave woman and her son for many years. Then they were rid of them in God's way. There is a special blessedness in leaving ourselves in God's hands.

Undoubtedly Sarah was more to blame than Abram: in short, there was haste through an obvious lack of faith... As always, she who was most to blame suffered the most. It was not so much Abram as Sarah who suffered for her folly about her maid.

At Sarah's urging, Abram tried to run ahead of God's will and of the promise being fulfilled in its own time. So in Hagar we have the covenant of the law, the source of distress and unrest. God, however, takes care of the seed according to the flesh. The application of this as a figure is clear from Galatians 4... Man is in a hurry. He will not wait for God's time, and he will not wait on Him about the means of fulfilment. This is full of moral warning to us. It is always the source of unrest and sorrow.

In the verses that mention the angel of the Lord (vv. 7, 9, 10), the angel is clearly the Lord Himself. It is He who multiplies Abram's descendants. The term "angel" means a messenger, and Malachi 3:1 speaks of "the Lord whom you seek" as "the messenger of the covenant."

This expression, "the angel of the LORD," occurs over 100 times in the Old Testament. It means messenger or agent. Sometimes it describes an angelic messenger. Sometimes it refers to the Lord Himself. The context makes clear which is meant. In Genesis 16:7 the context proves that the Angel of the Lord is the Lord Himself.

But the Lord still had a good and kindly interest in Hagar. The angel of the Lord comes to her in her lonely distress as she is by a spring of water. At least she could find water, but it was a different matter to find food and shelter. The angel asked her where she had come from and where she would go. She could answer the first, but had no answer for the second. She was fleeing from her mistress. But where could a pregnant woman go, especially with no relatives or friends to contact?

Of Hagar we also have the inspired interpretation. She is the covenant "from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery" — the only form of religion that man's natural thinking leads him to. Hagar is an Egyptian, a child of nature, or, as the letter to the Galatians interprets it, "the elementary principles of the world." Law tends to leave the place of a servant, and her very name shows it — Hagar means "fugitive." So the angel of the Lord finds her by the well, going down to Egypt. When Abram's house sends her away at last, she is found again with her son, drifting down toward Egypt. Afterwards Ishmael lives in the wilderness on Egypt's borders.

At this point the Angel of the Lord intervened. By the customs of that time, it seems Hagar had no choice in the matter. And God is a God of pity, and of judgment. Even if she had been rude to her mistress, she was not to be left in the wilderness in her need. But on her return she was to be subject and submit to her mistress. Looking at her personally, apart from what she pictures, she was as much sinned against as sinning. God's intervention held the scales of justice evenly.

Notice how beautiful this name Lahai-roi is, which means "the well of Him who lives and sees me." That was Hagar's own word. She realised the wonderful care of the Lord for her — how He had met her in her need, while she was fleeing from her mistress Sarah, to bring her back. He ministers to her by the springing well which He discovers for her. But Isaac lives there. Isaac, the child of the free woman, is our representative — the true child of God in this picture. He is the one who gets the well and controls it.

Sarai took advantage of this permission from Abram and made life hard for Hagar. Countless employers have done the same, keeping their workers in misery by cruel oppression. Understandably, Hagar became a runaway, not knowing where she was going, but going anyway.

But the Lord still had a good and kindly interest in Hagar. The angel of the Lord comes to her in her lonely distress as she is by a spring of water. At least she could find water, but it was a different matter to find food and shelter. The angel asked her where she had come from and where she would go. She could answer the first, but had no answer for the second. She was fleeing from her mistress. But where could a pregnant woman go, with no relatives or friends to turn to?

In the Lord's judgment, Hagar was badly out of place in despising her mistress. He meets her in her wanderings, and He knows her only as Sarah's maid. So He sends her back with this instruction: "Return to your mistress, and submit yourself under her hand." She may receive promises about the son she will bear, but she is Sarah's maid still, and submission is her only duty.

By the customs of that time, Hagar clearly had no choice in the matter. And God is a God of pity, and of judgment. Even if she had been rude to her mistress, God would not leave her in the desert in her need. But in returning she was to be subject and submit to her mistress. Looking at her as a person, apart from what she pictures, she was as much sinned against as sinning. God stepped in and held the scales of justice even.

She was not only to return, but to stop despising her mistress, and instead submit to her. A wrong attitude had made it hard for her. To change her attitude into one of submission would of course make Sarai's attitude more favourable toward her.

Of Hagar too we have the inspired interpretation. She is the covenant from Mount Sinai, the covenant that produces slavery. It is the only form of religion that man's natural thinking leads him to, and the one we fall back to if grace is let go. Hagar is therefore an Egyptian, a child of nature, or as the letter to the Galatians interprets it, "the elements of the world." … The tendency of law, as it were, to leave this place of service is shown in her very name — Hagar, that is, "fugitive"; and so the angel of the Lord finds her by the well, going down to Egypt.

Can idols hear, or can they also look after people? No, the true God of heaven alone could hear and see when Hagar had run away. He is the same today. He hears you and sees you in the way you go. And not only that, but He loves you too.

This expression, "the Angel of the LORD" [Jehovah], occurs over 100 times in the Old Testament. It means messenger or agent. Sometimes it describes an angelic messenger, and sometimes it refers to the Lord Himself. The context makes it clear which is meant. In Genesis 16:7, for instance, the context clearly proves the Angel of the Lord is the Lord Himself.

We are not dealing here with the broad principles of moral good and evil, or with God's ordering of the world. We are dealing with man's ways inside the calling of God — man's, or woman's, workings and plannings, and the result left in God's hand. Hagar was the only person here who was in any way right, apart from despising her mistress, for which she suffered. And it is to her that an Angel, a messenger from Jehovah, speaks. He speaks to no one else in the chapter.

There was only one course open to her, as the angel tells her: "Return to your mistress and submit to her." She was not only to return. She was to stop despising her mistress, and instead submit to her. A wrong attitude had made things hard for her. Changing that attitude into one of submission would of course make Sarai's attitude toward her more favourable.

At this point the Angel of the Lord stepped in. By the customs of that time Hagar clearly had no choice in the matter, and God is a God of pity and of judgment. Even if she had been rude to her mistress, she was not to be left in the wilderness in her need. Only, on returning she was to be subject and submit to her mistress. Looking at her personally, apart from what she pictures, she was as much sinned against as sinning. God stepped in, and His intervention held the scales of justice even.

"The bondwoman" cannot be got rid of by harsh treatment. When we make mistakes and find ourselves having to face the results, we cannot undo those results by acting with a high hand. We often try this method, but we are sure to make matters worse by it. If we have done wrong, we should humble ourselves and confess the wrong. And we should wait on God for deliverance… So Hagar had to return, and give birth to her son.

In the Lord's judgment, Hagar's despising of her mistress is very much out of place. When He meets her in her wanderings, He knows her only as Sarah's maid. He sends her back with this command: "Return to your mistress and submit to her." She may receive promises about the son who is to be born to her. But she is Sarah's maid still, and submission is her only duty. The law, too, has its hour. It may fill the house of God for a time, just as Hagar and her son now fill the house of Abraham for fourteen years. But to the heirs of the promise, even the age of the law was only a servant.

This expression, THE ANGEL OF THE LORD [Jehovah] occurs over 100 times in the Old Testament, meaning messenger or agent. Sometimes it describes an angelic messenger, and sometimes it refers to the Lord Himself. The context makes it clear which one is meant. The context of Genesis 16:7, for instance, clearly proves The Angel of the Lord is the Lord Himself. None but a Divine Person could speak such words.

Two thousand years of human history had rolled by before we have any record of angelic ministry. The first time, the angel of the Lord met Hagar — in truth the Lord Himself. Her child Ishmael was to be the father of a multitude that should not be numbered. This lifts the scene out of what is purely personal.

We are not dealing here with the large principles of moral good and evil, or with God's ordering of the world. We are dealing with man's ways inside the calling of God — man's, or woman's, workings and plans, and the result left in God's hand. The only person who was in any way right was Hagar, apart from despising her mistress, for which she suffered. To her an Angel — a messenger from Jehovah — speaks; not to anyone else in the chapter.

At this point the Angel of the Lord intervened. By the customs of that time, Hagar had no say in the matter, and God is a God of pity and of judgment. Looking at her as a person, apart from what she pictures, she was as much sinned against as sinning. By stepping in, God held the scales of justice even.

In the Lord's judgment, Hagar's contempt for her mistress is badly out of place. When He meets her in her wanderings, He knows her only as Sarah's maid. He sends her back with this instruction: "return to your mistress, and submit yourself under her hand." She may receive promises about the son who was to be born to her. But she is Sarah's maid still, and submission is her only duty.

Flesh has its privileges quickly. Already was the beginning of what Jehovah's angel prepared Hagar to expect, "I will surely multiply your offspring so that they cannot be numbered for multitude." Jehovah listened to her affliction, and could not forget Abraham. Ishmael was to be a wild-donkey of a man. His hand would be against every man, and every man's hand against him, and he would live facing all his brothers (Gen. 16:10-12). As we may easily see, this too has come true exactly, from that time until now.

From Romans 9:6-9, it would seem that Ishmael sets forth the unbelieving mass of Israel. There we read, "For not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel, and not all are children of Abraham because they are his offspring, but 'Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.'" The unbelieving mass of the nation are children of Abraham according to the flesh. Only the believing remnant are the true seed according to promise. Still, even the children according to the flesh would be great on the earth.

In these verses that speak of the angel of the Lord (vv. 7, 9, 10), the angel is clearly the Lord Himself. It is He who multiplies Abram's descendants. The term "angel" means a messenger, and Malachi 3:1 speaks of "the Lord whom you seek" as "the messenger of the covenant."

At this point the Angel of the Lord stepped in. By the customs of that time, Hagar plainly had no choice in the matter. And God is a God of pity, and of judgment. Even if she had been rude to her mistress, she should not be left in the wilderness in her need. Only, on returning, she was to be subject and submit to her mistress. Looking at her as a person, apart from what she stands for, she had sinned, but she had been sinned against just as much. God stepped in and held the scales of justice even.

Can idols hear, or can they also look after people? No, the true God of heaven alone could hear and see when Hagar had run away. He is the same today. He hears you and sees you in the way you go.

And not only this: God foretold the future of the coming son. He gave the boy his name and marked out his character. His name means "God hears." Hagar spoke of God as "You are the God who sees me," or "You are the God who reveals Himself" (New Trans.). The well where the angel appeared to her became known as "The well of the Living who was seen." So even poor Hagar gained blessing from this painful episode.

Five other people in the Bible were named before their birth: Isaac, Genesis 17:19; Ishmael, Genesis 16:11; Josiah, 1 Kings 13:2; Cyrus, Isaiah 44:28, and John the Baptist.

The mother gave in to despair. She laid her son down to die at a distance from her. But "God heard the boy's voice," and His angel tells Hagar to hold him by the hand. Had not Jehovah called his name Ishmael, because He had heard her affliction? ... She may have forgotten God's promise that a countless multitude would spring from her, and that Ishmael would live in the presence of all his brothers. But God remembered him, and declares that He will make him a great nation.

Before he was born, Hagar ran away because her mistress treated her harshly. The angel of the Lord appeared to her and told her to return to her mistress. Her descendants should be countless, and she was to call her son's name Ishmael, which means 'El shall hear.' ... Abraham prayed that Ishmael might live before God. But Ishmael pictures the seed of Abraham according to the flesh. So although God answered that He would bless Ishmael, and multiply him greatly ... yet the covenant should be established with Isaac.

Hagar was not to be the mother of God's promised child to Abram. Yet the Lord cares about her and about her expected child. He tells her to name the child "Ishmael," which means "God will hear" (v. 11). But the boy's character would match the fact that he was born from a union of opposite parents — the father a free man, the mother a slave. He would be contentious, his hand against all other men, and of course they would therefore be against him. This has been one of the characteristics of the Arabs from that time... Abram learned by experience, and all this history teaches us that a wrong union leads to trouble and sorrow.

He was to be a "wild man." The word really means a "wild donkey." In the light of Galatians 4, this is significant, since "the son of the slave was born according to the flesh." Romans 8:7 tells us that the mind of the flesh "is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot." Man after the flesh has lawlessness stamped upon him, and the wild donkey is a fitting picture of him.

No one ever drew a sharper picture than the one Scripture gives of Ishmael's descendants in the words quoted here. "Who has let the wild donkey go free? Who has loosed the bonds of the swift donkey, to whom I have given the arid plain for his home and the salt land for his dwelling place? He scorns the tumult of the city; he hears not the shouts of the driver. He ranges the mountains as his pasture, and he searches after every green thing" (Job 39:5-8). Such exactly are the Bedouins. No sober Christian supposes a perpetual miracle as to Ishmael, but that what God said of that race is as sure as what He said of Israel.

The meaning of Genesis 16:12 is as plain as it is striking, and as applicable today as for thousands of years past. This is not true of any other notable people. Compare the Egyptians, the Assyrians, or the Israelites. Every one of them has gone through change after change. How little, if at all, has the Bedouin changed?

Man in the flesh is not only lawless in regard to God but antagonistic in regard to his fellows. The one characteristic springs out of the other. There could be no peace where Ishmael was. Worse still, there was to be no shutting him out and no getting rid of him. The decree was, "he shall dwell over against all his kinsmen." Hagar was a picture of the covenant of the law, given at Sinai. Now that did not abolish the man after the flesh. It only laid restraint upon him.

Abraham's heart yearned over Ishmael. His cry was, "Oh that Ishmael might live before you!" More than that, Ishmael was circumcised, so he outwardly carried the mark of the Covenant (Gen. 17:18, 25). Yet none of it worked... He remained wild, stubborn and quarrelsome — a fitting picture of the flesh.

Do not be fault-finding or quick to criticize. Do not quarrel with unscriptural expressions from others, but be extremely accurate in your own statements and quotations from Scripture. Do not be an Ishmaelite (Gen. 16:12) among the people of God, for "the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness" (2 Tim. 2:24-25).

This expression, THE ANGEL OF THE LORD [Jehovah] occurs over 100 times in the Old Testament, meaning messenger or agent. Sometimes it describes an angelic messenger, and sometimes it refers to the Lord Himself. The context makes clear which one is meant. Genesis 16:7 is one example: the context there proves that The Angel of the Lord is the Lord Himself.

The angel also foretold the future of the coming son, giving his name and describing his character. His name means, "God hears." Hagar spoke of God as "You God see me," or "You are the God who reveals Himself" (New Trans.). The well where the angel appeared to her became known as "The well of the Living who was seen." So even poor Hagar gained blessing from this painful episode.

Hagar was so impressed by this intervention of God that she called Him "the God who sees." "For," she adds, "Have I also here seen Him who sees me?" She had not seen God in person. But she recognized Him in the words He had spoken to her, and she was clearly subdued. We cannot be certain whether she was born again. Yet no one is ever the same after meeting the Lord of glory.

In her own story Hagar is an example or picture — hardly a type — of how divine grace deals with a helpless and despairing sinner. She ends up in the worst misery and danger, partly by her own fault and partly through injustice and misfortune. Yet a God of compassion remembers her and sees her. She is dying of thirst, though a well of springing water stands at her side (Gen. 21:19). She does not seem to remember God or seek Him. But He sends His angel with the gracious question, "What ails you, Hagar? Arise."

She was the slave woman, and knew nothing of the freedom of grace. She might look after God, but all she reached was this: "You God see me." The simple awareness that God sees us never goes further than this: that He is a Judge who notices our ways in order to deal with them, or, at most, a guardian who protects us in the hour of difficulty and danger. But love, liberty, rest, joy in God are never known through the bare truth that God sees us.

How blessed to learn that God heard Hagar's cry! For her refreshment He provided the well Beer-lahai-roi, "Well of the living who was seen." God not only sees me. He has revealed Himself in grace so that I may see Him.

He can slip off to questionable places of amusement, and nobody be any the wiser. Nobody the wiser? "YOU GOD SEE ME" (Gen. 16:13) was a great deterrent and safeguard to the writer in his youthful days. God sees, God knows, God notes.

Can idols hear, or can they also look after men? No, the true God of heaven alone could hear and see when Hagar had run away. He is the same today. He hears you and sees you in the way you go. And not only that, but He loves you too.

This means "well of the living and seeing one." The well lay between Kadesh and Bered, "on the way to Shur," and so in the south. It was here that the angel of the LORD met Hagar, when she fled from Sarai. Her cry at that moment, "You, God, see me," gave the well its name. Isaac lived near the same well Lahai-roi (Gen. 24:62; Gen. 25:11).

Hagar spoke of God as "You, God, see me," or "You are the God who reveals Himself." The well by which the angel appeared to her became known as "The well of the Living who was seen." So even poor Hagar drew blessing from this trying episode.

Some of the early versions wisely and correctly translated the Hebrew words that our present Bibles leave untranslated. It is true that many Bibles put the translation in the margin. But then the reader asks: is the margin correct? And if so, why is it not in the text? The well of "Beer-lahai-roi" (Gen. 16:14) is rendered in the old versions the well of Him that "lives and sees me."

How wonderful to learn that God heard Hagar's cry! For her refreshment He provided the well Beer-lahai-roi, "Well of the living who was seen." God not only sees me, but has revealed Himself in grace so that I may see Him.

She was the bondwoman: she knew nothing of the liberty of grace. She might look after God, but what she reached was this: "You, God, see me." The simple awareness that God sees us never goes beyond two thoughts. Either He is a Judge noticing our ways to deal with them, or, at most, He is a guardian to protect in the hour of difficulty and danger. But love, liberty, rest, joy in God are never known through the bare truth that God sees us. No one denies that it is true. But as believers we are entitled to something further and more precious: seeing God — seeing Him who is invisible.

In all these wilderness scenes Isaac has taken no active part. Yet he kept in mind all that was happening. He comes from the well Lahairoi — a word of deep meaning, for it means "the well of Him that lives and sees" (Genesis 16:14). How good to know, as we travel on our way, that at the end of the journey we shall find One who has kept His people in mind. He sees and He lives — indeed the word is "He always lives" (Heb. 7:25).

Don't you think it would do us good if we as Christians dwelt more by Lahai-roi? If we knew a little better what our God has given us, and so knew better the blessing in it? Hagar called it "the well of Him that lives and sees"! That is what it is. It is the "well of Him that lives and sees" us, the well of God, the living water.

At Sarah's urging, Abram tried to get ahead of God's will and to bring about the promise before its time. So we have the covenant of the law pictured in Hagar, the source of distress and unrest. God, however, still takes care of the child born in the natural way. The application of this as a figure is clear from Galatians 4. The pride of man under the law is marked in Hagar's spirit, yet her son cannot be heir. The haste of man, who will not wait for God's time and will not wait on Him as to the means of fulfilment, is full of moral warning to us. It is always the source of unrest and sorrow. Hagar, too, was an Egyptian — a reminder of Abram's lack of faith. Law and flesh, and indeed sin, always go together.

Verse 15 records the birth of Ishmael. It calls him Abram's son, not Sarai's.

The name of the son, Ishmael, was to mark that God heard Hagar in her affliction. It pointed to her, not to him. He was to be a "wild man" (ESV: "a wild donkey of a man"); the word really means a wild donkey. In the light of Galatians 4 this matters, since "the son of the slave was born according to the flesh." Romans 8:7 tells us that the mind set on the flesh "is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot." Man after the flesh has lawlessness stamped on him, and the wild donkey is a fitting picture of him.

But we can read even more into this. Ishmael was not the child of Hagar only, but of Abraham also. The man of faith had taken the bondservant to his heart, and Ishmael was the fruit of it. Though Abraham's seed, Ishmael is cast out. Is it not easy to see here that even the man of faith, if he uses law as a way to produce fruit, will find that the law is the "power of sin", not of holiness? The wild donkey nature will show itself in the fruit which God cannot own, instead of the fruit He has promised!

In Galatians, just as the apostle uses Isaac to set forth all that we are as born of the Spirit, so he uses Ishmael to set forth our old man — all that we are as born after the flesh. He shows, too, that the man who is after the flesh is entirely opposed to the man who is after the Spirit. "Just as at that time he who was born according to the flesh persecuted him who was born according to the Spirit, so also it is now" (Gal. 4:28-31).

Abram was eighty-six years old when Ishmael was born. The next chapter tells us that Abram was ninety-nine years old when the Lord spoke to him again. So for thirteen years Abram's life seems to have been barren of communications from the Lord. What a harvest of the flesh.

When Abram was 99 years old, another great revelation reached him, and God established a further covenant, as we find in Genesis 17. Here for the first time we get "Almighty God" (El-Shaddai) — the God who can raise the dead, and to whom nothing is impossible. God Almighty was the name that belonged to the unconditional covenant made with Abram. That covenant depended altogether upon God, and His almighty power guaranteed its final fulfilment.

The poor heart naturally prefers anything to waiting. It will turn to any device — any scheme — any resource, rather than stay in that place. It is one thing to believe a promise at first. It is quite another thing to wait quietly for it to be fulfilled… Abraham shows faith in Genesis 15, and yet he fails in patience in Genesis 16.

Had Sarah said, "Nature has failed me, but God is my resource," how different it would have been! This would have been her proper ground, for nature really had failed her. But it was nature in one shape, and so she wished to try nature in another. She had not learned to look away from nature in every shape. In the judgement of God, and of faith, nature in Hagar was no better than nature in Sarah.

Abram was eighty-six years old when Ishmael was born. The next chapter tells us that Abram was ninety-nine years old when the Lord spoke to him again. So for thirteen years Abram's life seems to have been barren of communications from the Lord. What a harvest of the flesh.

Nearly fourteen years had passed since the birth of Ishmael, this son of the slave woman: this effort of man's own energy to carry out the thoughts of God. He was born in Abraham's house and grew up there for twice seven years. For a while everything looked promising. But for those fourteen years Abraham had walked a path he chose himself. His history passes over these years as a blank — completely unrecognised. And oh, how many histories of God's saints will turn out to be a blank one day!

In the letter to the Hebrews we read of Abraham that "when he had patiently waited, he obtained the promise" (Hebrews 6:12-15). The story of Hagar and Ishmael has shown that under pressure he failed in patience… For thirteen years he patiently endured… God waits until all hope of obtaining the blessing by the efforts of the flesh is over.

We have had the seed promised in a general way; and now Abram wants to get it according to his own will in the flesh, and he takes Hagar (chapter 16). Ishmael is "he that is born after the flesh," which is really of the law, an attempt to get the heir on legal ground and take the promises. It was an attempt to get the heir by the flesh, and it all came to misery and confusion.

An Ishmael was Abram's measure, an Isaac was God's. In the meantime Abraham must learn what the fruit of his impatience is. He learns it through quarrels, strife and sorrow. In the end he must do what was very "grievous in his sight" — send away his son. So our inventions only postpone our real blessings, because we have to see the end of them.

The story of Hagar and Ishmael has shown that, under pressure, he failed in patience. That story closed with the statement that Abram was eighty-six years old when Hagar bore Ishmael to Abram. Now we read, "When Abram was ninety-nine years old the LORD appeared to Abram." For thirteen years he patiently endured. During these years there is no record of any communications to Abraham. God waits until every hope of gaining the blessing by the efforts of the flesh is gone.

The first mention of this name is in Genesis 17:1: El Shaddai — God Almighty. The word El is said to mean strength, or almighty power. Some think Shaddai means the same thing. Others prefer to translate it all-sufficient, or self-sufficient. Either way, the two words together point to divine attributes, since only God has almighty power and all-sufficiency.

God is faithful to His word. His grace rises above failure and gives fuller, deeper disclosures of Himself. Earlier God had said, "I am your shield; your reward shall be very great" — what He was to and for Abram, Protector and Giver of blessings. Now He reveals Himself, a far more blessed thing: "I am El Shaddai." With this revelation comes the command, "Walk before me, and be perfect." When God was only giving promises, He gave no such call to holy walking. When He reveals Himself, the person who receives the revelation must be holy. True and peaceful knowledge of God cannot be separated from a holy life. If we want to enjoy close communion by walking with God, we must also walk before Him in holiness. These two things cannot be pulled apart.

God said to Abraham, "I am the Almighty God; walk before me, and be perfect" (Gen. 17:1), which means that he was to walk before God, always trusting in His almighty power. Abraham did not do so. He failed here, and told a lie (Gen. 20:2), for the very reason that he did not trust God's almighty power. Here again the passage is not about the sin Abraham had by nature. It is about his acting in full confidence in the almighty power of God.

If He was the Almighty God, it was not just a question of enemies now. Not a word is said about them. They do not need God's almighty power to deal with them. But He needed to be the Almighty God to bring about the blessedness He is here speaking of. El Shaddai, I repeat, is linked not with putting down enemies but — wonderful to say — with Abram's walk before Him! "Be perfect."

God revealed Himself to the fathers as "El Shaddai," and they were to walk in the faith of that name. He revealed Himself as Jehovah to Moses and Israel, and they were to walk in the faith of that. He reveals Himself to us as Father, and so we are to walk. "I am El Shaddai, walk before me and be perfect," "You shall be perfect with the LORD your God," "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

God first presents Himself to Abram in His almighty power. Then He speaks of the land given for ever to him and to his offspring. But not a word of this at first. It was of the greatest importance to Abram that not one word be said about his prospects until God had revealed Himself. God does not even say, "I am your God." He does not connect Himself with Abram in any such way. The first word here was the simple revelation, "I am God Almighty." On this Abram's heart rests. It is not Abram seeking it for himself from God, but God unfolding Himself to Abram... He does not yet explain how the covenant would be carried out; that follows in due time.

"I will" is the phrase that marks this covenant. It begins, "I will make My covenant," and it ends, "I will be their God." The little word "if" stands out by being absent, because this was a covenant with no condition on Abram's part. He had tried to get a son by natural means through Hagar. But God meant to multiply him greatly. God would make him the father of many nations, secure the land of promise for his offspring, and be their God in a special way.

Abraham's way had not been altogether perfect. He was a man of true faith and patience. Yet when he turned aside to Egypt, he failed in faith. In the matter of Hagar, he failed in patience. Now, having learned his weakness, he learns that God is Almighty. If God is Almighty, then His purposes and promises will come true. They will come true however impossible they look to nature, to sight, and to the flesh. Abraham only has to remember that God is Almighty, and at once every difficulty will disappear and every obstacle will be overcome. In quiet faith and patience he will be able to wait for God to act in God's own time. No longer is Abraham to expect anything from nature. Everything depends upon God from first to last. We can say, "If God wills." Who but the Almighty God can rightly say, "I will"?

Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it good independently of God. But when Abram is set aside — his body now dead at ninety-nine years old — God reveals Himself. He says, I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is, now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Those listed at the end of chapter 15 were the enemies. They were the races that had taken over the land, and they had to be subdued. But now a far higher range of things opens. Abram should have a child, and be the father "of many nations." Clearly, then, the circle is far wider, and all in pure grace. Abram has not asked a word; nor does he seek any pledge or token.

As Christians we are not asked to walk well in order to get the blessing, and Abraham was not asked that either. We are asked to walk in a way that suits God because we are blessed. To walk in this way and be perfect before God calls for dependence upon God and His Almighty power. But this involves the entire refusal of the flesh. Circumcision was brought in for this purpose. It was a sign that the flesh must be put to death, if the walk is to be perfect before God.

But now there is far more than this; not what Abram feels or wants, but what God wanted for him and loved to give him. So God gives the richest revelation ever made known up to that time... What was the consequence? No horror of deep darkness follows now, no deep sleep falls on him here. "Abram fell on his face"... So the circle is far wider now, and all in pure grace. Abram has not asked a word; nor does he seek any pledge or token.

When the word of the LORD came to Abraham in a vision, it revealed what God was for Abraham. At once Abraham thought of himself. In happy confidence he speaks to God, spreading out his needs and stating his difficulties before Him. Here God visits Abraham in person and reveals who He is in Himself. Abraham falls on his face as a listener, and God speaks to him. He realizes his own nothingness in the presence of God's greatness. This revelation leads him to think of God, and forms in him a character that matches the One who meets his need: he walks before God and is perfect.

He never felt so overwhelmed in the presence of God, just because he had never been so near Him in spirit before... His falling on his face is not conviction of sin, or darkness of soul, but lowliness before God. In practice he is far nearer to God than in Genesis 15, and he can trust His word more simply.

Abraham had not fallen on his face when the Lord appeared to him and spoke to him in chapter 15. There he stood, conscious that he was in the light with the Lord. But darkness had now come over his soul, and he is not ready for the Lord. He is on his face, silent and amazed... The change in his experience is great; but there is no change in the Lord; for it is the same love, whether He rebukes or comforts.

Joy in God is communion, and a deeper thing. Presenting a need to God (as in Genesis 15) is not communion. "God talked with Abraham… his friend" — this is communion. What a different idea of God we tend to have! Communion with God is the place the heart retreats to.

Note the calmness of Abram here. He can enter, with nothing coming between, into what God is in Himself as "the Almighty God." But further, it says, "God talked with him" — not "the Almighty" and not "Jehovah," but "God talked with him, saying, Behold, my covenant is with you, and you shall be the father of a multitude of nations... No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham."

Abraham fell on his face; he is brought to nothing. But he may enjoy God, with no fear and no holding back. God has made Himself known to him, and the result of this is communion... Then in the next chapter do we find him talking about himself? No! he is pleading for others. He has come into the tone of God's heart. He is not struggling with God for a blessing for himself, as Jacob did. Because he knows what he has been given, he is able to intercede.

How far can you intercede for others? I find this often a test to my own soul. God wants us to live knowing Him and enjoying Him. He wants us to live in a spirit of intercession. If I am in the presence of God, I shall fall on my face and be nothing — God is everything.

You will have noticed that at least ten times in this chapter God says, "I will." That stands in sharp contrast to the "you shall" repeated in the law. It is beautiful to see how God commits Himself to work out all He has set His heart on. He says, "I will set my covenant between Me and you." So He sets up a definite bond between Himself and Abram, in order to carry out His purpose.

God reveals Himself — He appeared to him — as the Almighty God. A covenant between God and him, to multiply him... father of many nations — and kings — a God to him and his seed after him — the land and their God. All this for ever, without condition, and his name changed for the covenant.

Chapter 16 is a kind of side note. Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it good on his own, apart from God. But once Abram is set aside — his body now dead at ninety-nine years old — God reveals Himself. He says: I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is, now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Now we have the wide extent of the earthly purposes of God beginning to unfold before us, even as far as the whole earth, and Abram was concerned in all... Not a word of this had been breathed before. That he should have a line to succeed him, one that should inherit the land and have it for ever: such was the utmost already granted... But here all is of another order and measure — beneficence according to the grace and purposes of God.

So Abram, "great father," becomes Abraham, "father of a multitude." The change comes by adding a single letter in the Hebrew, "he," the fifth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Number five speaks, as we know, of God with man. How truly does God with man change the lonely individual into the father of a multitude.

To confirm this covenant God changed Abram's name to Abraham, meaning "Father of a multitude." From this point on Scripture uses the new name, even though the promise wrapped up in that name had not yet come true. So God pledged Himself to bring it to pass in His own way.

As faith is opposed to works, so grace is opposed to law. The grace of God who gave the promise opens the door of faith — the only door, and a wide one — to Gentiles no less than to Jews... grace goes out to the Gentile no less than to the Jew, who could hardly limit Abraham's fatherhood of "many nations" to his own people.

Now this promise was to Abraham's Seed, that is, to Christ, as we learn from the letter to the Galatians. Is not the Lord Jesus Christ Himself also the Father of the many nations? A time is coming when He will be shown in this character, and will gather His households around Him like flocks of sheep.

So Abram, "great father," becomes Abraham, "father of a multitude." The change comes from adding one letter in Hebrew: "he," the fifth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The number five speaks, as we know, of God with man. How truly does God with man change the lonely individual into the father of a multitude.

The name Abram means "great, or high, father," showing what he himself was as head of the family of faith. But Abraham points us to the greatness of the family he heads. The name means "father of a multitude" — not only of people, but of nations. In giving this name God is showing the vast results of the principle of faith and of promise. Nothing is so fruitful as faith. It is "exceedingly fruitful." It is the only principle that brings forth anything for God, because it counts on His power alone.

There is another element here, a common one in Scripture: God's giving a name to Abram and to Sarai also. It signifies the title of direct authority, and entering into relationship on this ground. So Adam, so Pharaoh, so Nebuchadnezzar. Here, God having revealed His own name, gives one to Abram in connection with Himself. From then on He is the God of Abraham, revealing Abraham's place.

The changing of a name always implied that the one whose name was changed was subject to the one who changed it (see Gen. 17:5-15; Gen. 32:28; Gen. 35:10; Gen. 41:45; Dan. 1:7; Dan. 5:12).

Chapter 16 is a kind of parenthesis. Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it come true without God. But then Abram is set aside. His body is dead at ninety-nine years old. God reveals Himself and says: I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is, now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Abram then receives the promise of descendants. God changes his name to Abraham — "father of a great multitude" — and as yet he had no children at all! But God's promise is better than anyone else's performance. The promise has two sides. His children were to be like the stars — the heavenly family, those who inherit his faith, as Rom. 4:16 shows, and that includes every believer. And they were to be like the sand on the sea shore — the earthly descendants.

Now the wide extent of God's purposes for the earth begins to unfold before us. It reaches as far as the whole earth, and Abram had a part in all of it… No word of this had been spoken before. Until now God had granted only this much: a line to succeed him, one that would inherit the land and have it for ever.

Verse 16 states the result for Gentiles who believe the gospel. The promise is of faith, so that it might be by grace. In that way it stands sure to all the seed of Abraham to whom God gave the promise. It is sure not only to the seed under the law, but to all who had the faith of Abraham. He is the father of us all before God, as it is written: "I have made you the father of a multitude of nations."

His name is therefore changed from Abram to Abraham. The first means "great father," the second "father of a multitude." God adds, "I will make you exceedingly fruitful." At the time this seemed most unlikely. Abraham was 99 years old, and his only possible means of further fruit was Ishmael, the son of a slave woman. But God had other things in mind.

The name Abram means "great, or high, father." It shows what he was in himself, as head of the family of faith. But Abraham points us to the greatness of the family he heads, for it means "father of a multitude" — not only of people, but of nations. In giving this name God is showing the vast results of the principle of faith and of promise. Nothing is so fruitful as the principle of faith. It is "exceedingly fruitful," because it is the only principle that brings forth anything for God, since it counts on His power alone.

Surely these are promises which almighty grace alone could utter, almighty power alone fulfil.

But "when he was about a hundred years old," and Abraham's body "was now dead," God can come in again. He makes a simple, grand announcement that Abraham's faith had never yet grasped: "I am the Almighty God, walk before me, and be blameless." For a dead Abraham, an Almighty God alone would do. Abraham could not help God to raise the dead.

Abram was to have a child and be the father "of many nations." So the circle is clearly made far wider, and all in pure grace. Abram has not asked a word, and he does not seek any pledge or token.

So Abraham's hopes are not only opened up into a far greater sphere. The time is also unlimited.

Centuries have passed. Look at the splendid scene on that lonely hill in the land of Moriah, where Abraham and his son once stood. "Kings shall come from you," God said to Abraham — and now Solomon, his direct descendant, is dedicating a glorious temple.

Abraham stands as the Adam of blessing to those who come after him, just as Adam stood as the head of responsibility. Abraham is the father of us all before God. Adam never was that. Adam was the father of us all driven out from God. Of course, with Abraham this is now spiritual and in Christ.

In one of the promises to Abraham, the seed named is Christ Himself. In the other it is a countless multitude. To this countless seed God promised permanent possession of a definite area of land, together with national supremacy in the earth.

A far greater sphere now opens out for the hopes of Abraham. And the time is unlimited too. It is an "everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you." God had not forgotten the lesser gift while greater things were in view — "all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession, and I will be their God."

"I will" is the phrase that marks this covenant. It begins with "I will make My covenant" and ends with "I will be their God." The little word "if" stands out only by being missing, for it was a covenant with no condition on Abram's part. He had tried to get offspring by natural means through Hagar. But God meant to multiply him greatly, to make him a father of many nations, to secure the land of promise for his offspring, and to be their God in a special way.

There were two things in the way in which God revealed Himself in chapter 17. First, grace spreads out to the Gentiles: "You shall be the father of a multitude of nations." For if He is the Almighty God, He could not be shut up, if we may say so, in Israel. The second thing is, I will be God "to you and to your offspring after you." That is, closer communion, a direct relationship with God Himself.

When God is called the God of someone, it shows a close tie between that person and God, whose name is now joined to his own. It shows a relationship based on what God is to the one whose name He has taken. And it implies a purpose to bless and honour in keeping with that relationship. This purpose must stand. God cannot be unfaithful.

The promises of a very large offspring are separate... The reasoning in Galatians is that Christ alone is the seed meant in chapter 22, when it speaks of the nations of the world. And if we are in Christ, we are then the offspring of Abraham.

When the Israelites entered the land, it was not on the ground of this covenant, but of another covenant. Under that one, their hold on the land no longer rested on God's unconditional promise. It hung on their own obedience. This was not a fulfilment of God's covenant with Abraham. As we shall see, God does not treat it as one. He keeps His covenant with the fathers carefully in reserve, even while He clearly foretells that the nation will fail and be scattered under the later covenant made at Mount Sinai.

If Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had ceased to exist, could God still have taken their names to describe Himself to Israel? He might have said, I am He who was with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, when they existed... He is not the God of the dead, but of the living. But this truth went further. Abraham was dead: his soul and body were separated. He was living for God, yet he was not what God meant him to be as his God... He was to be complete, and so raised from the dead. God's name showed His relationship with those who were gone for the moment. That proved the resurrection.

These, then, are some of the blessings of the everlasting covenant that God makes with Abraham. The covenant shows God's settled purpose to bless. Seven times in this message God says, "I will." Now Abraham learns that God looks for an answer in the believer's life to His own grace. Abraham is to walk before God and be perfect.

Here are "the promises made to the fathers," and to Israel, "beloved for the fathers' sakes." God made them to Abraham without any condition, whether they are spiritual or earthly. If you say that the spiritual promises are without condition, by the same reasoning the temporal ones are. God's promise to Abraham, "To you will I give this land," is as certain as the promises He has made in favour of us Gentiles.

God had revealed Himself to Abraham as the Almighty, and as the God of resurrection. He had assured him that the land where he was a stranger — all the land of Canaan — was his for an everlasting possession. All was his by promise, though not yet in possession. In the faith of God's promise he was careful to lay the body of Sarah to rest in the Promised Land.

All this for ever, without condition, and his name changed for the covenant. Here, being a pilgrim, and continuing so, God is not ashamed to be called, and to lay the basis of being called, his God.

Finally, God gave the land to the seed of Abraham "for ever," or as it is put elsewhere, "for an everlasting possession." Israel's possession of Canaan was certainly not like that. But has the Lord forgotten His promise? Or are we to assume that the promise was not meant for Israel? Far from it. … "He has remembered His covenant for ever, the word which He commanded to a thousand generations; the covenant He made with Abraham" (Ps. 105:8-11). So Israel's possession, held on terms and for a time, is not the fulfilment of the covenant with the fathers.

The promise of God to Abraham could not be fulfilled if there were no first resurrection. Stephen tells us Abraham was a stranger, with no inheritance in it — not so much as to set his foot on. Suppose Abraham were not raised from among the dead until the heavens and the earth flee away, and he had to stand before the great white throne. Then God would have broken His word to Abraham, and that is impossible.

The sphere now opened out for Abraham's hopes is far greater, and the time also is unlimited. It is an "everlasting covenant, to be a God to you and to your seed after you." … God had not forgotten the lesser gift in presence of greater things — "all the land of Canaan, for an everlasting possession, and I will be their God."

The promise to Abraham that he should be heir of the world was not by law, and so it was not conditional on his obedience to law. It came instead by the righteousness of faith. That is, it rested on righteousness already fully settled, not on righteousness that future works still had to build. So the promise could not be challenged; there was no possibility of it failing. Genesis 17:1-8 gives us the promise in the clearest terms. With God it is a settled matter, needing only time to be fulfilled. Only after this (in verses 9-14) do we see God giving Abraham the sign of circumcision.

God's side of the covenant cannot be broken. But Abraham is told that he and his descendants are to keep His covenant (v. 9). This covenant is completely different from the covenant of law, which required obedience to all the commandments. God gave this covenant to Abraham long before the law. It clearly assumes that man is completely unable to keep the laws of Moses. Why? Because it required that every male of Abraham's offspring be circumcised... Man in the flesh can deserve nothing but judgment: only when the flesh is cut off can the promise of God become effective for anyone. So the question is not man's doing, but man's dying — man reduced to complete helplessness in doing anything. Then everything is plainly God's sovereign working in grace.

Let no one suppose that circumcision is necessarily a legal thing. In the setting where it is placed here it goes together with grace — the sign that the flesh is put to death. The law did take it in when that system came later. But in itself, as our Lord Himself shows, it came not from Moses but from the fathers — from Abraham.

Abraham no longer asks for a sign by which he may know that he is to inherit the land. Not a word of that kind falls from him. Instead God speaks of the seal of circumcision. It is not now something outside him, as we saw in the dead animals of chapter 15. Now the word is: "you shall keep my covenant... every male among you shall be circumcised." What does it mean? The flesh put to death before God. The sentence of death laid on man in His sight — on Abraham himself as well as on his offspring afterwards.

Here, note, it was historically a covenant to keep a covenant in the flesh. Israel had to keep it and carry it out, and anyone who did not was to be cut off. It was imposed; the bought servant had to undergo it — it was his duty... still the word is, "You shall keep," Genesis 17:9. Now in Christianity, the seal of faith is a gift. It is the Holy Spirit, and it is power: "when you believed, you were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit" — the guarantee of the inheritance.

No one could have a place at the Passover table unless they had been circumcised. Only in this way did they come within the terms of the covenant which God had made with Abraham (see Gen. 17:9-14). On that ground He was now bringing them out of Egypt and taking them to Himself for a people.

As Christians we are not asked to walk well in order to get the blessing, and Abraham was not asked that either. We are asked to walk in a way that suits God because we are blessed. To walk like this and be perfect before God calls for dependence on God and His Almighty power. But this involves the entire refusal of the flesh. For this purpose circumcision came in, as a sign that the flesh must be put to death if the walk is to be perfect before God.

The first mention of circumcision in the Bible is in Genesis 17:10-14. God was silent for thirteen years. Then He breaks in and makes a covenant with Abram, when His servant is ninety-nine years old. Thirteen years earlier Abram had listened to Sarai his wife, and they tried to have a child through Hagar the slave woman. That led to the birth of Ishmael, with all the disaster that followed. It was offspring according to the flesh, not according to promise.

Abraham no longer asks for a sign to show him that he will inherit the land. Not a word of the kind is said. Instead God speaks of the seal of circumcision. It is not now something outside him, as we saw in the dead animals of chapter 15, but "every male among you shall be circumcised." What does it mean? Flesh put to death before God, the sentence of death placed on man in His sight — in Abram's own person and in his offspring after him. Circumcision here is not introduced in a legal way. It is really the answer in man to the grace of God. Every child of Abraham takes the place of death by this sign, which pictures our death with Christ.

Circumcision was the mark of being a Jew, the sign of God's covenant with His earthly people Israel (Gen. 17:10). But when was Abraham counted righteous? Before he was circumcised at all. So righteousness by faith was never limited to Israel alone. It is for all who believe, though they are not circumcised. To a Jew who gloried in circumcision as the distinguishing mark of God's people, this argument is unanswerable: when Abraham was counted righteous, he was uncircumcised.

The covenant of circumcision is now introduced. Every member of the household of faith must bear in his body the seal of that covenant. There must be no exception. "Both he who is born in your house and he who is bought with your money shall surely be circumcised. So shall My covenant be in your flesh an everlasting covenant."

If an Israelite was not circumcised he was to be cut off from his own nation. Why? Because he had broken God's covenant. He had no part in the blessing God had promised. God's promise is not given to man as alive in the flesh, but to those in whom the flesh stands under the sentence of death. The sign of circumcision was necessary for Israel. Today we should learn the spiritual reality of it, as seen in Philippians 3:3. Yet even in Christianity the outward sign of baptism has its serious place.

It becomes clear that circumcision means the flesh must be kept in the place of death. The flesh can add nothing to the doing of God's will. "He who is eight days old" was to be circumcised, and the eighth day points to a completely new start. Only a new life within can produce anything for the pleasure of God.

If God covenants to bless by His Almighty power, then on our side there must be no confidence in the flesh and no allowance of its activity. For the believer today, circumcision is "of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God" (Rom. 2:29). Refusing the flesh is not merely an outward neglect of the body that the world can see. It means refusing the flesh in all its inward workings in the heart — its self-confidence, self-righteousness, vanity and lusts — as something the cross has condemned (Col. 2:11).

The covenants made by God are of a different order. He makes His covenants from Himself, without consulting man. With Noah God made a covenant that He would not again destroy the world by a flood. As a token of that covenant, He set the rainbow in the cloud (Gen. 9:8-17). A covenant like this takes the form of an unconditional promise. Such was God's covenant with Abraham... He also gave him the covenant of circumcision (Gen. 17:10-14; Acts 7:8).

No one should think circumcision must be a legal thing. In the setting it is put in here it goes together with grace — the sign that the flesh is put to death. The law did take it up when that system was later imposed. But in itself, as our Lord Himself shows, it was not of Moses, but of the fathers... It means flesh judged, and that is the true spiritual meaning of what God then instituted.

What does the sign mean? Clearly, it is a symbolic witness that faith, not flesh, is the principle of relationship with God. In giving Abraham circumcision, God says, "You must carry in your body the sign that your flesh is profitless. You must have in yourself the sign that the sentence of judgment is on the flesh. You must accept a mark that means this: faith is the principle on which you are in relationship with Me."

The flesh had already failed him, yet he later took the slave woman to himself, and had a child who was only the "wild man," not the child of promise. Nature was still strong in Abraham, so God went on for fourteen years as if the promise slept in His own mind — unfulfilled. But "when he was about a hundred years old," and Abraham's body "was now dead," God could come in again... "I am the Almighty God, walk before Me, and be perfect." For a dead Abraham an Almighty God alone would do, for Abraham could not help God to raise the dead. There He gives him the covenant of circumcision.

Romans 4 teaches that circumcision was "a seal of the righteousness of faith." "Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him for righteousness." God counted him righteous, and then set His "seal" upon him.

Circumcision is a sign in God's people that they are indeed His, set apart to Himself according to His purpose. To the father of the faithful it was a token of the covenant God had made with him (Gen. 17:11)... It showed that God had set Israel apart to Himself from the nations around them.

As far as Abraham was concerned, circumcision was just a rite to keep. Nothing shows that anyone taught him its spiritual meaning... It looks as if its full meaning did not come to light until "the circumcision of Christ" (Col. 2:11) had actually taken place.

Circumcision was God's token of the covenant with the Jews, and of the putting off of the flesh, which was required to be part of God's people. It had its reality in Him... This is the true circumcision of Christ made without hands. Circumcision made by hands was only the sign of this putting off of the body of the flesh.

The first mention of circumcision in the Bible is in Genesis 17:10-14. After a silence of thirteen years God breaks in and makes a covenant with Abram when His servant is ninety-nine years old. Thirteen years earlier Abram had listened to Sarai his wife, and tried to produce a seed through Hagar the slave. This action resulted in the birth of Ishmael with all its later disaster. It was a seed according to the flesh, not according to promise.

Circumcision was instituted, not when Ishmael was born, but in view of Isaac, the seal of the covenant. The principle was God's righteousness. Man was judged as evil and the flesh put to death.

Circumcision means that the flesh must be kept in the place of death. The flesh can contribute nothing towards carrying out the will of God. Only a new life within can produce anything for the pleasure of God.

If an Israelite was not circumcised, he was to be cut off from his own nation. Why? Because he had broken God's covenant. He had no part in the blessing God had promised. God does not give His promise to man as alive in the flesh. He gives it to those in whom the flesh is judged as under sentence of death.

EIGHT. A new start outside of, but connected with, the order of creation: so, in resurrection. Circumcision was on the eighth day, the start of a new fellowship. Eight people were saved in the ark, to begin a new world.

"Eight days old" shows what a fair inheritance we are destined for. The eighth day speaks to us of new creation, now that the first week of the old one has run out. Only the power of that knowledge can keep practical circumcision going.

Circumcision took place as early as eight days old. At that age the child could not understand anything about it. Its meaning stays the same whether people understand it or not. The same is true of baptism, which also teaches death to the flesh.

Abraham had 318 servants born in his house. Jacob had a still larger number. And they had been received into the covenant, though they were not natural descendants... There may have been thousands of such servants.

The token of the covenant was to be in his flesh for an everlasting covenant, the sign of the lasting terms on which his descendants stood with God. How striking this is! Under the law the whole nation in the flesh had to carry the sign of circumcision. That sign was a seal of the righteousness Abraham had by faith while he was still uncircumcised. Yet at any time, though the dividing wall still stood, any Gentile could freely take up the sign of that same righteousness. With his males circumcised, he could sit down to the Passover, the feast of redemption!

The nation began to carry this out very carefully, but its true meaning was soon lost. It became just an outward rite with very little inward reality. It had no effect at all on how people lived. God never intended an outward rite to be kept without inward reality. That gives Him no pleasure.

The faith of Abram was tested further at this point. If his patience gave way at 86 years old, what now? He is now 99 years old. The whole matter has become impossible as far as man and the flesh are concerned. The power of God must come in if the promise is to be fulfilled. Yet notice how many times "I will" appears in Genesis 17. This is the statement of an unconditional covenant. All of it rests on God's unchangeable will and purpose.

Circumcision was the sign of this very covenant (see Gen. 17). It expressed the giving up of all confidence in the flesh. That giving up leaves a person to know, with a dead Abraham, the power of the Almighty. God insists that the token of the covenant must be in the flesh of all His people.

It is a sign that the flesh can have no recognition with God, and that the sentence of death must be passed on it. Faith in this way confessed that the flesh is utterly worthless, and took advantage of what God's grace provided… It is a solemn thing that such an ordinance should become a mere matter of boasting in the flesh. But that is what happened in Israel. The flesh boasted and took pride in the distinction. If they had understood its meaning, they would have seen that through it God was pouring contempt on the flesh and all its efforts.

The sign was circumcision, and Abraham, his descendants and all his household were to keep it. That last term takes in everyone born in his house, and the slaves he bought. A servant who was only hired for a time was clearly left out. Here for the first time in Scripture we find a household recognised as identified with the man who is its head.

The covenant of circumcision is now introduced. Every member of the household of faith must carry in his body the seal of that covenant. There must be no exception.

But what does the sign mean? Plainly, it is a symbolic witness that faith, not flesh, is the principle of relationship with God. In giving Abraham circumcision God says, "You must carry in your body the sign that your flesh is worthless. You must have in yourself the sign that the sentence of judgment is on the flesh. You must accept a mark which means that faith is the principle on which you stand in relationship with Me." But if circumcision is the sign of a covenant of grace, of relationship with God on the principle of faith, then it is a seal on the righteousness of faith. That righteousness was already Abraham's before he was circumcised.

Circumcision is a sign in God's people that they truly belong to Him, set apart to Himself according to His purpose. To the father of the faithful it was a token of the covenant God had made with him (Gen. 17:11). The Lord's words, "So shall my covenant be in your flesh an everlasting covenant" (v. 13), took in the whole generation of His people of old. Circumcision showed that Israel were separated to Himself from the nations around them. The Christian is separated to God in Christ, who is risen from the dead and who lives in heaven, not on earth. The circumcision made without hands, the circumcision "of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter" (Rom. 2:29), has now taken the place of the outward rite.

If an Israelite was not circumcised he was to be cut off from his own nation. Why? Because he had broken God's covenant. He had no part in the blessing God had promised. God does not give His promise to man as alive in the flesh. He gives it to those in whom the flesh is judged and under sentence of death.

The covenant of circumcision is now introduced. Every member of the household of faith must bear in his body the seal of that covenant. There must be no exception... Romans 4 teaches us that circumcision was a seal of the righteousness of faith. "Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness." God counted him righteous, and then He set His seal on him.

But what does the sign signify? Plainly, it is a symbolic witness that faith, not flesh, is the principle of relationship with God. In giving Abraham circumcision God says, "You must carry in your body the sign that your flesh is worth nothing. You must have in yourself the sign that the sentence of judgment is on the flesh. You must accept a mark that says faith is the principle of your relationship with Me."

God was acting for Israel under the covenant He had made with Abraham, recorded in Genesis 17:1-14. Circumcision was the token or sign of that covenant. God said plainly that the penalty for ignoring circumcision was death. Moses was chosen to be the chief actor in Israel's deliverance under that covenant — and he had not obeyed the sign! As the responsible person he was subject to the death penalty!

Nothing was more basic to this covenant than the ordinance of circumcision. The uncircumcised boy was to be cut off from his people (Gen. 17:14), and no such person could eat the passover at all (Ex. 12:48). So either Israel ignored these laws, or they almost entirely dropped the passover toward the end of the wilderness journey. By then no one under forty could have been circumcised at all... How the patience of the Lord with the people is evident!

God set up circumcision with the covenant He made with the fathers, as we read in Genesis 17. The law confirmed it later. The constant tendency was to keep the outward ceremony and overlook its meaning. Israel was to be a people completely cut off for and to God. A circumcised heart would have cut off self-love, as they came to know the love of God.

If God makes a covenant to bless by His Almighty power, then on our side there must be no confidence in the flesh and no allowance of its activity... Refusing the flesh is not just an outward neglect of the body that the world can notice. It is the refusal of the flesh in all its inward workings in the heart — its self-confidence, self-righteousness, vanity and lusts — as that which has been condemned in the cross (Col. 2:11).

God does not only change Abraham's name, however, but tells him that Sarai's name is to be changed to Sarah. Sarai means "my princess," as being Abraham's property, but Sarah means "the princess," giving her the wider honor of being "a mother of nations." She stands for the grace of God. Sarah was to be greatly blessed: even after 90 years of age she would have a son. She would be blessed, and others would be blessed through her. She would be a mother of nations, and kings would even be among her descendants.

The meaning of Sarai is uncertain. Jerome gave 'my princess;' others 'princely;' others 'contentious;' Fürst says, 'Jah is ruler.'

Changing a name always meant that the person renamed came under the authority of the one who renamed him (see Gen. 17:5-15; Gen. 32:28; Dan. 1:7). At that moment the Lord told Simon, You belong to Me; from this minute you are Mine. It was sovereign love that spoke there; and it was a divine Person who spoke to him.

And now God declares Himself the God of resurrection. Sarai is to have a son — the first clear announcement of it. Her name is changed too: from Sarai (my princess) she becomes Sarah (the princess). The "i" drops out, and the merely personal part goes with it. That "i" stands for the number 10, the number of responsibility. In its place the "h" comes back, the 5, where the creature stands once more in its weakness before this almighty God. So grace and faith — the ways of God and the felt need of man — fit each other exactly and are joined together. Now grace will be fruitful: Sarah will have a son.

But when the "Almighty God" goes on to say about Sarai, "As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name," he is at once overwhelmed by the promises of such wonderful power and grace to be shown to him. They went beyond anything he had known so far, and "Abraham fell on his face." As we think about a Scripture like this, we can surely say that only faith can rightly receive the "Almighty God." Faith alone gives Him His true and proper place and honours Him as He should be honoured. When the Almighty shows Himself, self must be shut out.

Nature told him it was impossible, yet he did not waver in unbelief. He believed in hope — the hope of a son through Sarah, when nature said there was no hope of it. He was strong in faith. His own body was as good as dead, and so was Sarah's womb, but that was no problem to him. To him, the God who had promised was the God of resurrection. As such, He was able to give life to the dead.

Galatians 4:24-31 draws an allegory from this history. Hagar answers to the covenant of law and to the Jerusalem of that day, which was in slavery. Sarah answers to the covenant of promise and to the Jerusalem above, which is free. The conclusion for the believer is, "So then, brothers, we are not children of the slave but of the free woman." The Christian is not under the law nor in the flesh, but is free, under grace.

God does not only change Abraham's name. He also tells him that Sarai's name is to be changed to Sarah. Sarai means "my princess," because she was Abraham's own. Sarah means "the princess," and this gives her the wider honor of being "a mother of nations." She stands for the grace of God... Sarah was to be richly blessed. Even after 90 years of age she would have a son. She would be blessed, and others would be blessed through her. She would be a mother of nations, and kings too would be among her descendants.

Notice that Sarai's name changes at the same time, by adding the same letter. It shows the same great truth.

And now God declares Himself the God of resurrection. Sarai is to have a son — the first positive announcement of it. And her name is changed too: from Sarai (my princess) she becomes Sarah (the princess)... So grace and faith fit each other exactly — the ways of God and the need man now feels — and they are joined together. Now grace will be fruitful: Sarah will have a son.

Chapter 16 is something of a side note. Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it come true without God. But then Abram is set aside. His body is now dead at ninety-nine years old. God reveals Himself and says, I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is: now that you count as dead, I can do something with you.

The chapter then shows grace that gives out of God's own generosity. At the same time the flesh is judged before Him. That is the meaning of this remarkable seal. So the promise comes out when Sarah's name was changed from "my princess" (Sarai) to simply "princess" (Sarah).

Isaac is this child of promise. He was born to Sarah when she was 90 and Abraham 100, when their bodies were as good as "already dead" (Rom. 4:19), and any natural hope of childbearing was long gone. But God stepped in with sovereign grace to fulfill His own word. Sarah is the free woman... a picture of the godly remnant in Israel who live by faith and by grace, and Christ came from them (pictured in Isaac) when all natural hope of blessing was gone. Isaac then is a beautiful picture of Christ, the promised Seed (Gal. 3:16). He came to earth, not because man kept the law well or anything like that, but because of the unbreakable promise of God, fulfilled by grace alone.

Having settled Abraham as the father of many nations, and the new covenant in Sarah as the mother of them and even of kings; after this we get the communications of God with Abraham for his own soul, and joy, and as to His dealings with a corrupt world.

He fell on his face and laughed, asking himself in his heart about his own great age, and Sarah's too. At first sight we might take both the laughter and the words as a sign of doubt. But in the light of Romans 4:18-20, we should read them instead as joyful wonder.

These promises went beyond anything he had known so far, and "Abraham fell on his face." This teaches us a great deal. Abraham with his face in the dust, overcome by the fullness of almighty power and grace!

Chapter 16 is a kind of parenthesis. Abram has a promise, and now he tries to make it good independently of God. But then Abram is set aside, his body now dead at ninety-nine years old. God reveals Himself and says, I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is, now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Again he falls on his face — now as Abraham… Abram once had fallen on his face and listened; but now Abraham fell on his face and laughed.

At first sight we might take both the laughter and the words as a sign of doubt. But in the light of Romans 4:18-20 we must see them instead as an expression of joyful wonder.

Abraham's faith was too weak to accept what God had positively spoken. He laughed inwardly, just as Sarah did later (Gen. 18:12). Could he, at 100 years, become a father? And Sarah, at 90 years, give birth to a son? Of course, in natural terms this is impossible. But God is not limited by impossibilities.

God seems to accept the faith of Abraham, and Abraham's laughter in his heart gives a name to his son — Isaac, laughter. It was simplicity of heart at unexpected good news. Sarah's — for God can discern — was a disbelieving, mocking satisfaction.

God told Abraham that he would have a son by Sarah. Nature told him it was impossible. Yet he did not waver at it through unbelief. He believed in hope — the hope of a son through Sarah, when nature said there was no hope of it. He was strong in faith. The deadness of his own body and of Sarah's womb was no difficulty to him. To him the God who had promised was the God of resurrection. As such, He was able to give life to the dead.

The power of His resurrection must be known. That power alone can work in a dead man, to lift him out of death and into this new sphere… This power now comes in: "As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name." She too must be made partaker, as it were, of the divine nature. Like him, she must have the breathing of God's name put to hers, so that in figure she may be of the new creation also.

Isaac, "laughter," recalls the laughter of both his parents in view of his birth, and suggests the joy which the coming of the true Son brings.

I have no doubt that the day in Abraham's heart is the day the Lord Jesus meant when He said, "Abraham rejoiced that he would see My day. He saw it and was glad." Abraham's home was then filled not with the laughter of irony or unbelief that had marked it before, but with the laughter of holy mirth. That laugh is contagious. When it has a place in our own hearts, it will spread to others, as Sarah said, "everyone who hears will laugh with me."

"Life" and "living" in Scripture, when God uses it, is not always the thought of mere life; as, "Oh, that Ishmael might live before You." It is divine favour also.

But he had received such favour, and his heart went out to the child of the slave woman. He said to God, "Oh, that Ishmael might live before You!" Sarai was now to be Sarah. She was to become nations, with kings coming from her, though he and she were no better than dead. So why should Ishmael not share the covenant? But no: the child of promise and of the free woman is the one with whom God establishes His covenant. For Abraham's sake Ishmael does not go without His blessing; he fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation. So the reasonings of a saint fall, and God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise.

Abraham's thoughts return to his son born after the flesh, and he pleads with God, "Oh that Ishmael might live before You" (v. 18). This is the same lingering hope that occupies the thoughts of many people — that the flesh might be brought to please God. But Scripture declares the opposite: "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Romans 8:8).

Abraham's heart yearned over Ishmael. More than that, Ishmael received circumcision, so he carried the mark of the covenant outwardly (Gen. 17:18, 25). It was all useless, however. This word had gone out about him: "He will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him." A wild, unmanageable and quarrelsome fellow he remained. His time of testing ended when he proved himself not only wild, but a despiser and a mocker of Isaac, the promised son, who is a picture of Christ. Then came the word, "Cast out this slave woman with her son, for the son of this slave woman shall not be heir with my son Isaac" (Gen. 21:10).

What a moment for the soul! Have there not been such awakenings in God's saints at times? Moments when everything that had delighted the eye was fading away, and the heart cried out: "Oh that Ishmael might live before You!" Must it all go, then? Is there no remnant of former days to spare?... God may pity the soul in this — though it is not His purpose. He may say, as it were, "And as for Ishmael, I have heard you." He may spare the link and bless it in an earthly way. But it never enters the divine path: "But I will establish my covenant with Isaac."

This is a fine, earnest path for the spirit of a saint. There is a deep reality here. Departure from God proves itself to be bitterness. But God proves Himself to the soul to be restoration and peace. Under His gracious hand faith grows bold again. Abraham presses his plea, with the vigour he had in chapter 15, and asks God that Ishmael might live before Him.

Abraham's thoughts go back to his son born after the flesh, and he pleads with God, "Oh that Ishmael might live before You!" (v. 18). Many people still hold that same lingering hope — that the flesh can be brought to please God. But scripture declares the opposite, "those who are in the flesh cannot please God" (Romans 8:8).

Sarai was now to be Sarah. She would become nations, and kings would come from her, even though she and Abraham were as good as dead. So why should Ishmael not share the covenant? But no: the child of promise, the son of the free woman, is the one with whom God establishes His covenant. For Abraham's sake Ishmael does not go without God's blessing — he fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation... So the reasoning of a believer falls, and God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise.

But when Abraham was ninety-nine years old, there was no hope of a child by natural means. His body was now dead. Then God reveals Himself to him by His name: "I am God Almighty."

All of this was called "God's covenant" with him. That again tells us plainly that God's purpose, or secret, or covenant, rested on resurrection. It rested on setting aside the flesh with all its strength and resources, and on doing something beyond and above nature... And so Isaac is born out of the dead bodies of Abraham and Sarah. God's covenant is with Isaac. Ishmael may be blessed — and he is — but the covenant is with Isaac, and with Isaac alone.

Isaac, "laughter," recalls the laughter of both his parents in view of his birth, and suggests that joy which the coming of the true Son brings.

See how Abraham acted. God made a covenant of blessing with him, and told him He would bless him with this child of promise... As he heard God's promises, he laughed to himself and said in his heart, "Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?"... His laugh was the LAUGH OF FAITH.

It is the covenant God made with Abraham. It was unconditional, not in the least conditional on the obedience of Israel. He affirmed the same covenant again to Isaac (Gen. 26:4), and confirmed it to Jacob (Gen. 28:13-14), despite Jacob's wandering away. It was an everlasting covenant, and so it depends only on the faithfulness of God.

But God's covenant He would establish with Isaac (v. 21), a clear type of the Lord Jesus. Sarah, a picture of God's grace, would bring him to Abraham, just as the grace of God brings Christ to the believing sinner today. Isaac would be born one year from the time God spoke to Abraham. Abraham had to wait that much longer, with time to think about God's promise. That promise was completely sure, but no one could rush it ahead of God's time.

Have there not been such awakenings in God's people at times? Moments when everything that had delighted the eye was fading away, and the heart cried out: "Oh, that Ishmael might live before You!" Must it all go then? Is there no remnant of former days that may be spared? Has it all been a mistake?… God may pity the soul in this — though it is not His purpose. He may say, as it were: "And as for Ishmael, I have heard you." God may spare the tie and bless it in an earthly way. But it never enters the path that is divine: "But I will establish My covenant with Isaac."

The angel of the Lord appeared to Hagar and told her to return to her mistress. Her offspring would be beyond number, and she was to call her son's name Ishmael, which means "El shall hear."… Abraham prayed that Ishmael might live before God, but Ishmael stands as a picture of the seed of Abraham according to the flesh. So God answered: He would bless Ishmael, multiply him greatly, and make him a great nation, and Ishmael would father twelve princes. Yet He would establish the covenant with Isaac.

But no: God establishes His covenant with the child of promise, the son of the free woman. Yet Ishmael, for Abraham's sake, does not go without His blessing. He fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation… So the reasonings of a saint fall to the ground. God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise. Even there, no flesh will boast in His presence.

Ishmael does not belong to this chapter, but he is blessed in it as a son of Abraham, and so loved; yet he is no co-heir. That cannot be — all that comes from a higher source.

God answered the request about Ishmael and promised to bless him in natural things, making him a great nation under twelve princes. Genesis 25:12-16 records the fulfilment.

The names we find here can be traced in other Scriptures. For instance, Isaiah 60, the great chapter of the millennial kingdom, mentions Nebaioth and Kedar (verse 7). The number twelve, twelve princes, links Ishmael closely with Israel. In the future God will bless Israel and give it the promised land as a glorious possession. Then Ishmael's descendants will not be forgotten.

The unbelieving mass of the nation are children of Abraham according to the flesh; but only the believing remnant are the true seed according to promise. Still, even the children according to the flesh would be great on the earth.

Being the son of a slave woman, Ishmael pictures those under the bondage of law, living in a desert that produces no fruit for God.

Abraham, who had received such favour, felt for the child of the slave woman. He said to God, "Oh, that Ishmael might live before you!" Sarai was from now on to be Sarah. She was to become nations, with kings coming from her, though he and she were no better than dead. So why should Ishmael not share the covenant? But no. God establishes His covenant with the child of promise, the son of the free woman. Ishmael, for Abraham's sake, does not go without His blessing: he fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation… So the reasonings of a believer fall, and God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise.

Ishmael does not belong to this chapter, but he is blessed in it as a son of Abraham, and so loved. He is no co-heir. That cannot be. All of it flows from a higher source.

What a moment for the soul! Have there not been such awakenings in God's saints at times? Moments when everything the eye loved was fading away, and the heart cried out: "Oh that Ishmael might live before you!" Must everything go then? Is there no remnant of former days that God may spare? Has it all been a mistake? God may pity the soul in this — though not His purpose. He may say, as it were: "And as for Ishmael, I have heard you." The link may be spared and blessed in an earthly way. But it never enters the path which is divine: "But I will establish my covenant with Isaac."

He appeals first to the history of Abraham. If the Jew insists on natural descent, he must let the Arabians into blessing too. They descended from Abraham through Ishmael (Gen. 25:12-18). Natural descent is therefore shut out. With Isaac we see the blessing secured on the principle of sovereign electing grace, for the word is, "Through Isaac shall your offspring be named." Ishmael was the child of flesh, but Isaac was the child of promise. That this promise came by sovereign grace is plain from the word, "About this time next year I will return, and Sarah shall have a son."

From Romans 9:6-9, it would seem that Ishmael sets forth the unbelieving mass of Israel… The unbelieving mass are children of Abraham by natural descent. Only the believing remnant are the true seed by promise. Still, even the children by natural descent would be great on the earth.

But God's covenant He would establish with Isaac (v. 21), a clear picture of the Lord Jesus. Sarah, a picture of God's grace, would bring Isaac to Abraham, just as the grace of God brings Christ to the believing sinner today. Isaac would be born one year from the time God spoke to Abraham. Abraham had to wait that much longer. He had time to think about God's promise. It was completely sure, but it would not come ahead of God's time.

God set a time when the promised son was born to Abraham. In the same way, He had an appointed time to give His own Son: "when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son." There is also a set time when God will bring the First-Begotten into the world again, at His second coming. Then it will be the set time for Israel too, when God remembers His promises and visits and does all that He has spoken concerning them. "You will arise and have pity on Zion; it is the time to favour her; the appointed time has come" (Psalm 102:13).

God went up from him. He was talking with Abraham, and went only when He had finished. Abraham could bring the desires of his heart to God, and he had a full answer. But God had His own purpose.

"And God talked with him." It is when man is in the dust that God can talk to him in grace. Abraham's posture here beautifully shows a man bowed right down before God, feeling his utter weakness and nothingness. And notice: this always comes before God reveals Himself. When the creature is laid low, God can show Himself in the unclouded brightness of what He is. He will not give His glory to another. Until the sinner takes his proper place, God does not unfold His character.

There is something more than prayer; there is the enjoyment of fellowship. Where souls do not enter into this, where they cannot get near enough to God, and do not get used to His talking to them in His word and their own free pleading before Him, there is a great lack in the Christian's private life... Notice that the exchange in this scene is the fruit of God revealing Himself more fully to the soul. So everything rested, not on a fresh start taken by man, but on His gracious ways with the soul... It is one thing for a man to think up out of his own mind what he would say to God. It is quite another thing for God to speak about Himself, and to give the revelation that is suited to bless a man's soul.

It is the revelation of God, and our place is in the revelation of Him, our talking with Him, and He talking with us. Abraham fell on his face; he is brought to nothing. Yet he may enjoy God. He has no fear and no holding back... Then in the next chapter, do we find him talking about himself? No! He is pleading for others. He has come into the tone of God's heart. He is not struggling with God for a blessing for himself, as Jacob did. Knowing what he has received, he is able to intercede.

Having finished this great communication, God left off talking with Abraham. That same day Abraham is careful to keep the covenant by performing the rite of circumcision. He puts into practice the word he had heard. He acts in keeping with the revelation God has made of Himself.

Circumcision here, then, is not introduced in a legal way, any more than the sabbath in Genesis 2. It is really the answer in man to the grace of God.

"Then God went up from him in the place where He had spoken with him." These words about Jacob are much like the words about Abraham in Genesis 17:22. What grace to both! And what a difference beyond words from the made-up stories of gods mixing with the nations, even if those stories had been true!

Having finished this great communication God left off talking with Abraham. That same day Abraham is careful to keep the covenant by performing the rite of circumcision. He puts into practice the word he had heard. He acts in keeping with the way God has revealed Himself.

The closing paragraph of the chapter shows how Abraham's faith showed itself at once in works. He accepted the outward sign of circumcision for himself and for his house. No time was lost. The thing was done "that very day." The operation itself was not pleasant. It ran against natural feelings. In each one the flesh would have cried out to be spared.

But God speaks of the seal of circumcision. It is not now something outside him, as we saw in the dead animals of chapter 15... What does it mean? Flesh put to death before God. The sentence of death is put on man in His sight — on Abram himself, and on his descendants after him. Circumcision here is not introduced in a legal way... It is really the answer in man to the grace of God.

Romans 4 teaches that circumcision was "a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith." "Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness." God counted him righteous, and then set His seal upon him.

Abraham's obedience was blessedly prompt. It is a bright scene, though it is in the flesh. All that belonged to him, all his house, come under God's covenant.

The sign was circumcision. Abraham had to keep it, and so did his descendants and all his household. That last term takes in everyone born in his house, and every bondservant he had bought. It left out the casual servant, who was only hired. Here for the first time in Scripture we find a household treated as one with the man who is its head. They are those over whom the head has authority, so that he can command them.

Everyone born in Abraham's house, or bought with money, had to be circumcised. Circumcision was the seal of the promise made to Abraham. If one of the promised seed was not circumcised, he lost his title. But it was a seal he had a right to by birth. And the real blessing was by promise: circumcision did not bring anyone into it at all. God called Abraham's seed in Isaac. The covenant promises belong to that seed, not to Ishmael. Yet Ishmael was circumcised just as much as Isaac.

If God covenants to bless by His Almighty power, then on our side there must be no confidence in the flesh. We must give it no room to act. For the believer today, circumcision is "a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God" (Rom. 2:29). The refusal of the flesh is not to be merely an outward neglect of the body, which the world can see. It is the refusal of the flesh in all its inward workings in the heart — its self-confidence, self-righteousness, vanity and lusts — as that which has been condemned in the cross (Col. 2:11).

Abram was eighty-six years old when Ishmael was born. The next chapter tells us that Abram was ninety-nine years old when the Lord spoke to him again. So for thirteen years Abram's life seems to have been empty of any communication from the Lord. What a harvest of the flesh.

Chapter 16 is a side note. Abram has a promise, and now tries to make it good independently of God. But when Abram is set aside, his body now dead at ninety-nine years old, God reveals Himself. He says, I am going to give you many descendants, and you must circumcise them, and so on. That is: now that you are viewed as dead, I can do something with you.

Circumcision was, therefore, the seal of the righteousness of faith. Some fourteen years earlier God had counted Abram righteous. Abram believed God, and God counted it to him as righteousness. First righteousness by faith, then the seal. The New Testament says that believers are circumcised: "In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ" (Colossians 2:11). The circumcision of Christ is the death of Christ; in Him the body of the flesh is put off.

The closing paragraph of the chapter shows how quickly Abraham's faith expressed itself in works. He accepted the outward sign of circumcision for himself and for his household. He wasted no time: the thing was done "that very day." The operation was not pleasant, and it ran against natural feelings. In each case the flesh would have cried out to be spared. How fitting, then, that it pictures the death to the flesh that the New Testament speaks of. There the question is not the material body of man, but the fallen nature belonging to that body, with its appetites and desires.

Abraham was circumcised at ninety-nine years old, so Isaac was to be born of a circumcised father. God would fulfill the promise only when the strength of the flesh is seen to be cut off, for the works of the flesh are refused altogether. The promise can be realized only by faith in the living God.

Abraham was justified by faith centuries before the law was given through Moses. He was also justified by faith, and so he was certainly saved, years before he was circumcised (Genesis 15:6; 17:26). No one, then, needs to keep the law or be circumcised in order to be justified by faith. It was therefore plain that Gentiles could share in the grace of justification just as much as Jews.

When God had finished this great communication, He stopped talking with Abraham. That same day Abraham is careful to keep the covenant by carrying out the rite of circumcision. He puts into practice the word he had heard, and acts in a way that matches the revelation God has made of Himself.

When Ishmael was thirteen years old Abraham circumcised him, and all the men of his house. In this act Abraham acknowledged in faith that the blessing he had asked for his natural offspring could not come through the strength of the flesh. God secures all His mercies in resurrection.

Abraham had received such favour, yet his heart went out to the child of the slave woman. He said to God, "Oh that Ishmael might live before you!" ... But no. God establishes His covenant with the child of promise, the son of the free woman. Ishmael, for Abraham's sake, does not go without His blessing: he fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation. So the reasonings of a saint fall, and God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise.

Everyone actually born in Abraham's house, or even bought with money, had to be circumcised. Circumcision was the seal of the promise made to Abraham... But, further, the real blessing was by promise: circumcision did not bring into it at all. Abraham's offspring was called in Isaac. The covenant promises belong to that offspring, not to Ishmael. Yet Ishmael was circumcised just as much as Isaac.

For Abraham, the first man to receive it, circumcision had been "a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith" (Rom. 4:11). That did not stop the thirteen-year-old Ishmael from receiving it, or the eight-day-old Isaac... Notice too that circumcision is the "putting off of the body of the flesh" (Col. 2:11), and that the true circumcision "put no confidence in the flesh" (Phil. 3:3).

Abraham's heart yearned over Ishmael. He cried out that Ishmael might live before God. More than that, Abraham circumcised him, so Ishmael carried the mark of the covenant outwardly (Gen. 17:18, 25). All of it, however, was useless... He remained a wild, unmanageable and quarrelsome man — a fitting picture of the flesh.

As far as Abraham was concerned, circumcision was just a rite to keep, since nothing shows that he was taught its spiritual meaning... The Messiah was cut off, as predicted. He was severed from His life down here in flesh and blood, so that He might take up life again in resurrection. As identified with Him, we put the sentence of death on the old life in the flesh that we once lived, and so put off the body of the flesh. So the meaning of the rite was the putting of the death sentence on the flesh and all its works. God's unconditional covenant of promise is not made good on the ground of the flesh.

Abraham's obedience was prompt, and blessedly so. Though it is a scene in the flesh, it is still a bright one: all who belonged to him, his whole household, come under God's covenant.

The last paragraph of the chapter shows how Abraham's faith quickly expressed itself in works. He accepted the outward sign of circumcision for himself and for his house. He lost no time; the thing was done "that very day." The operation itself was not a pleasant one. It ran against natural feeling, and in each man the flesh would have cried out to be spared. How fitting, then, that it pictures the death to the flesh that the New Testament speaks of. There it is not the physical body of man that is in question, but the fallen nature that marks that body, with its appetites and lusts.

As Christians we are not asked, any more than Abraham was, to walk well in order to get the blessing. We are asked to walk in a way that suits God because we are blessed already. To walk like that, and to be perfect before God, calls for dependence on God and on His almighty power. But this means the complete refusal of the flesh. That is why God brought in circumcision: as a sign that the flesh must be put to death if the walk is to be perfect before God. In Genesis 15, death came in as the ground of justification. Here the refusal of the flesh, through the sign that speaks of death to the flesh, is for holiness of walk.

When this wonderful meeting ended, Abraham took Ishmael and all his male servants, both those born in his house and those he had bought, and circumcised them... Abraham himself was circumcised at the same time, at 99 years old. So Isaac would be born of a circumcised father. God would fulfil the promise only when the strength of the flesh was seen to be cut off, for the works of the flesh are refused completely. The promise can be realized only by faith in the living God.

But no: the child of promise, the son of the free woman, is the one with whom God establishes His covenant. Ishmael, for Abraham's sake, is not left without His blessing; he fathers twelve princes and becomes a great nation. And that very day Abraham is circumcised, and Ishmael, and every male born in his house or bought with his money (vv. 25-27). So the reasonings of a saint fall away, and God's will alone stands, even in blessing outside the covenant of promise. Even there no flesh shall boast in His presence. The flesh is never improved; it passes under a sentence of death.

So circumcision here is not brought in as a matter of law... It is really man's answer to the grace of God. It is what God has made the Christian's portion in our Lord Jesus: that "circumcision made without hands," which God has given us in Him, for in Him we are circumcised. Now it is not a victim that dies; every child of Abraham takes the place of death by this sign. The sign pictures our death with Christ, the perfect deliverance of the person as dead with Him. Until you know what it is to be dead in this way, you cannot enjoy what it is to be free toward God.

Having finished this great communication, God left off talking with Abraham. That same day Abraham is careful to keep the covenant by performing the rite of circumcision. He puts into practice the word that he had heard, and acts consistently with the revelation that God has made of Himself.

The closing paragraph of the chapter shows Abraham's faith turning at once into works. He accepted the outward sign of circumcision for himself and for his house. They lost no time. It was done "that very day." The operation was not pleasant. It went against natural feelings, and in each man the flesh would have cried out to be spared. So it is a fitting picture of that death to the flesh which the New Testament speaks of. Only there the subject is not the material body of man. It is the fallen nature that marks that body, with its appetites and desires.

Though the fulfilment of this covenant depended upon God and not upon Abraham, there was a sign given in connection with it... The sign was circumcision. Abraham was to keep it, and so were his descendants and all his household. His household meant everyone born in his house and every slave he had bought. The casual servant, who was only hired, evidently did not come under it. Here for the first time in Scripture we find a household treated as one with its head. Its members are those the head has authority over, so that he can command them, as we see in verse 19 of the next chapter.

So circumcision began with Abraham. It was to carry on in his descendants after the flesh, and even with any stranger born in their house. It was the required sign of the Lord's covenant in his flesh. But the Christian enjoys it in the better way of the spirit. He is circumcised with a circumcision not made by hands, in the putting off of the body of the flesh in the circumcision of Christ (Colossians 2:11)... It was a privilege granted to strangers, to slaves.

The covenant of circumcision is now introduced. Every member of the household of faith must bear in his body the seal of that covenant. There must be no exception... We are taught in Romans 4 that circumcision was a seal of the righteousness that Abraham had by faith. "Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness." Because God counted him righteous, He set His seal on him.

Circumcision was the seal of the promise God made to Abraham. If one of the promised line was not circumcised, he lost his title; but it was a seal he had a right to by birth. Further, the real blessing came by promise: circumcision did not bring anyone into it at all. Abraham's line was called in Isaac, and the covenant promises belong to that line, not to Ishmael. Yet Ishmael was circumcised just as much as Isaac.

Look at the amazing scene in the opening verses of Genesis 18. We cannot escape the conviction that the truth of circumcision, presented in the previous chapter, must be learned and accepted before the high privilege described here can be enjoyed. Here God not only appears to Abraham. He openly links Himself with him, in a setting designed to show how great His pleasure is in doing so.

God has made Himself known to him, and the result of this is communion. Abraham draws no strength of his own from this; he is on his face. But he has the blessed familiarity of relationship. Does He now ask Abraham what he wants? No! He gives him a sign of death and resurrection in circumcision. Then in the next chapter do we find him talking about himself? No! Instead he is pleading for others.

The style of His coming is as noticeable as everything else: there is no distance, there is intimacy. It is three men who come — in fact, two angels, and One before whom the angels veil their faces. But they come as men, and they keep that place. This stands out all the more because the two who left Abraham as men are called angels when they reach Sodom in the next chapter. Clearly this difference has meaning in it. How sweet a foreshadowing of what was to take place in due time — the One in whom faith sees the glory of Immanuel came to live among us in flesh, and to faith He is no longer only a Visitor.

This appearance was unusual. It was unlike any earlier one, because "three men" approached, and it came "in the heat of the day," just when no one would pay a visit in the ordinary way. Abraham's hospitality rose to the occasion, and he entertained angels without knowing it, as Hebrews 13:2 puts it. It was even more than that, for one of the three was Jehovah Himself appearing to him.

It teaches us a great deal to see the honour put here on the character and condition of the stranger. In the whole wide world there was just one spot where the Lord could accept hospitality and make Himself at home. That spot was the tent of a pilgrim and stranger. The Lord would not honour the splendid halls and princely palaces of Egypt with His presence. No. All His sympathies and all His affections hung around the stranger of Mamre. In the middle of an evil world, he alone could be persuaded to take God for his portion.

There seems to have been no outward sign by which Abraham, or anyone else, could have known that Jehovah was present. All the world would have seen was three men at his tent door. But Abraham had the discernment of a man of faith who walks near to God. He tells the LORD apart from the two angels, bows to the ground in reverence, and speaks to Him directly.

God is about to judge the world, and He now appears to Abraham to give him the immediate promise of the son who is coming... Now Jehovah will deal with Abraham as a man deals with his friend. He speaks with Abraham about what concerned the world, not himself. It is not Abraham's wants, or even Abraham's walk, but the purpose of God which He would have him know, opening His thoughts and plans to him... What a place of privilege and blessing! It is not worship. It is not a call to follow where the Lord led. All of that had its place. It is communion — personal conversation with God about what concerns Himself and His ways.

The manner of His coming is striking. Abraham looks up and sees that "three men were standing in front of him." As the story goes on we learn that two of them were angels. Later they appear as angels in the gate of Sodom (Gen. 19:1). The other, we know, was none less than the LORD Himself, appearing in human form. It points forward to the time when the Son of God becomes man and lives among people.

The style of His coming is as noticeable as everything else. There is no distance; there is intimacy. Three men come: in fact, two angels, and One before whom the angels veil their faces. But they come as men, and keep this place.

Here again the Lord appears, though we may notice this special feature about it now, that He leaves it to Abraham to find out Who was visiting him. There is no outward token of the majesty of His presence — no special intimation betrays Who was there. Notice also that this time the Lord came Himself, with two others who no doubt looked much like Him.

And Abraham's practiced heart knew under all disguises Him who stood there. We learn this plainly from the first words with which he welcomes One whom yet in this garb he has never seen before. "Lord," he says, distinguishing Him by a title only given to God…

He ran to meet them, though he was not a young man. The energy of his faith and affection for the Lord is lovely to observe. He bowed himself to the earth and begged the Lord to stay and accept his hospitality. He offered water to wash their feet and asked them to rest in the shade of the tree.

See the character of Abraham: it is very lovely — genuine lowliness, but remarkable dignity.

The word used most often for worship is proskuneo. It comes from pros and kuneo, "to fawn or crouch," and "to kiss." Its first use in Scripture is in Genesis 18:2 in the Greek Old Testament, when Abraham bows to the ground… It covers every act of outward honour, such as kneeling or bowing low. People gave such honour to kings and other superiors, and also to a divine person, or to one they treated as such.

In Genesis 18:1, Abraham comes before us as sitting in his tent door. In Genesis 19:1, Lot sits "in the gate of Sodom." One believer is outside the world as a true pilgrim, with his tent. The other is not only in the world; he takes a share in running it. He sits in the gate — the place of judgment.

It is plain therefore, that it was not in the least on the ground of previous knowledge, or of social equality. If he had treated the stranger with suspicion, that would have ruled out the whole welcome that God's word records from long ago and urges now. So in faith and love Abraham received into hospitality, not angels only, but Jehovah Himself in the guise of man. Hospitality like this was not meant to be shelved, or merely admired as a virtue of long-ago saints.

Abraham looks up and sees that "three men were standing in front of him." As the story goes on we learn that two were angels. They appear as angels later, in the gate of Sodom (Genesis 19:1). The other, we know, was none less than the LORD Himself, appearing in human form. This points ahead to the time when the Son of God becomes man and lives among people.

The whole contrast rests on where these two men are placed. One is in the door of his tent at Mamre; the other is in the gate of Sodom. In the first we still see the persistent pilgrim. In the second we see a man who has been untrue to his pilgrim life, and has settled down among the pollutions of a sinful world.

Abraham's trained heart knew, under every disguise, the One who stood there. We learn this from the first words he uses to welcome One he has never seen in this form before. "Lord," he says, giving Him a title used for God alone, "if I have found favor in Your sight, do not pass by Your servant."

At this time there seems no reason to suppose that Abraham had any knowledge, or even suspicion, of who it was. We shall find how soon he does work it out and knows it. But he behaves exactly as he should. He would not say it out loud. He does not break through the disguise that Jehovah had chosen to take on.

From Genesis 18 we learn the remarkable fact that the Lord seeks the company of those who, appreciating Him, are ready to accept an opportunity to minister to Him. We read, "refresh yourselves… since you have come to your servant." Abraham's moral fitness is most important to note. God had called him out. He obeyed. He lived as a stranger, looking for a city (see Hebrews 11:8-10). And he was circumcised — the flesh put to death (Genesis 17).

Here, too, we have the first mention of feet washing in Scripture. Here, as elsewhere, the point of washing feet is to refresh the one whose feet are washed. Abraham has the high privilege of washing the feet of the One who, in years to come, will become flesh. And in the greatness of the love that delights to serve others, He will stoop in grace to wash His poor disciples' feet.

The Lord comes to Abraham as he was sitting at the door of his tent near Hebron. Like one who knew Him well, Abraham rises and worships, and offers to get some refreshment ready for Him… So Abraham enjoys the grace in which he stood. The presence of God is his home… They rise together from under the tree where they shared the meal. As they walk on together, the Lord tells Abraham His secrets.

Washing the feet was one of the duties of hospitality. The Lord rebukes His host in Luke 7 for neglecting it. See 1 Timothy 5:10. It gave the guest two benefits, I may say. It cleansed the traveller after the dirt of the journey, and refreshed him after the tiredness of it.

It was the custom of the country. If a man invited you to his house, the first thing he would do was provide water for the feet. In Genesis 18:3-4 Abraham did this; in Luke 7 the Lord reproaches Simon because he did not. Here the Lord takes the place of host and provides the water, and He also takes the slave's post and washes their feet.

He does not limit himself to the one he first spoke to. He is thinking of what was needed, not only out of courtesy but out of love.

The mystery here is clearly intentional. Abraham's perception of faith, and his already exercised spiritual mind, are instructive and divine. He knew he was dealing with One who visited him in this way. But until the Lord reveals Himself, Abraham acts towards Him in the way He comes. This was true deference and heavenly fitness. Because of it, he receives the fruit: the Lord's gracious familiarity with him.

What lovelier picture do we have in Genesis than the visit of the three strangers to Abraham (Genesis 18:1-8)? He sat at the door of his tent in the heat of the day. The faithful patriarch sees these strangers draw near, and is quick to offer them the hospitality of his home. One of them is the living God; the other two are His angels, whom He will shortly send on other service. The holy God accepts the hospitality offered, and becomes a guest in the tent of Abraham the pilgrim.

Genesis 18 teaches us a remarkable fact. The Lord seeks the company of those who appreciate Him and are ready to take an opportunity to serve Him. Abraham's moral fitness is very important to notice. God had called him out. He was obedient. He lived as a stranger, looking for a city (see Hebrews 11:8-10). He was circumcised — the flesh put to death (Genesis 17).

Feet-washing is His own service at heart, yet He often carries it out through others. So He puts us under the obligation, and gives us the privilege, of washing one another's feet. It is a blessed service. It is not done by trying to correct one another (however necessary that is at times), still less by finding fault. It is done by ministering Christ to one another, for only a ministry of Christ will bring refreshment to a weary soul.

Their presence stirred him into activity at a time when he would usually have wanted quiet rest. Though three men appeared, it came out afterwards that two were angels and One was the Lord Himself. God rewarded the patriarch richly. He made known to him what He was about to do.

The special privilege here was that God Himself agreed to be the guest of Abraham. More than that, He treats him as His close friend. He stamps on Abraham forever that remarkable title, "the friend of God," which comes from this very chapter.

At this time there seems no reason to suppose that Abraham had any knowledge, or even suspicion, of who it was. We shall find how soon he does work it out and becomes conscious of it. But his behaviour is exactly right. He would not speak out openly; he does not break the disguise that the Lord chose to take.

And Abraham's practiced heart knew, under every disguise, the One who stood there. We learn this plainly from the first words with which he welcomes One whom, in this dress, he has never seen before. "Lord," he says, marking Him out by a title given only to God.

In beautiful confidence of faith, Abraham meets the One who has come to him as man, and as man gives Him a human welcome. He receives Him as He comes and puts before Him whatever he has — and the Lord accepts without hesitating.

From Genesis 18 we learn the remarkable fact that the Lord seeks the company of those who, valuing Him, are ready to take an opportunity to minister to Him. We read, "comfort your hearts … for this is why you have come to your servant." … Notice his readiness, and his household's too. "He ran," v. 2; "hastened," v. 6; "make ready quickly," v. 6; "ran," v. 7; "hurried to prepare it," v. 7.

Lot says the two men had come to his home for protection. Abraham's words in Genesis 18:5 are very different. He understood that his visitors had come to have their hearts comforted by his fellowship.

The most complete separation to the Lord does nothing to hinder the largest and most active kindness — not only to the people of God, but to all men. At this time Abraham did not know who or what his visitors might be. He only saw three men, and his heart went out to them at once.

We too can enjoy, in the simplicity of faith, communion with the blessed Lord in what speaks of Himself. These "three measures of fine flour" and the "calf tender and good" speak of none other than Christ Himself. Occupation with Christ is still the essential requirement for communion with Him.

"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares" (Hebrews 13:2). … Richly was the patriarch rewarded. God made known to him what He was about to do, having first confirmed the promise of a son by Sarah, fixing now the date of his birth (Genesis 18:10). And when He told Abraham of the coming overthrow of Sodom, He let him plead with Him to spare it if only ten righteous people were found there.

It is deeply instructive to see the honour put here on the character and condition of the stranger. In the whole wide world there was just one place where the Lord could accept hospitality and make Himself at home. That place was the tent of a pilgrim and a stranger. The Lord would not honour the splendid halls and princely palaces of Egypt with His presence. No. All His sympathies and affections gathered around the stranger of Mamre. In the middle of an evil world, he was the only man who could be persuaded to take God for his portion.

Genesis 18 teaches us a remarkable fact. The Lord seeks the company of those who appreciate Him and are ready to take an opportunity to minister to Him. We read, "refresh yourselves … since you have come to your servant." The moral fitness of Abraham is very important to notice. He was called out. He was obedient. He lived as a stranger in the land. He was looking for a city (see Hebrews 11:8-10). He was circumcised — the flesh put to death (Genesis 17). We also see his fitness to meet his Lord's desire in the way he serves and in the food he provides.

Let us not forget, dear Christian readers, that one of the marks of faith is to hurry. Abraham hurried when it was a matter of the Lord's service (Genesis 18:6-8); Zacchaeus did when the Saviour invited him to welcome Him into his house (Luke 19:6); Mary did when the Lord called her to come to Him (John 11:29). If it concerns Him and His Person, can we ever hurry enough? But on the other hand, should we not keep clear of the haste that so often marks the flesh and the old man? "Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed blood."

People made bread from wheat flour, or from wheat and barley mixed, or, if they were poor, from barley only. They usually made it in thin cakes, which could bake very quickly when a visitor arrived. Genesis 18:6; Genesis 19:3; 1 Samuel 28:24.

First, the three measures of meal tell of Christ personally. The "meal" is not merely that: it is the "fine flour" of the meal offering later on, which we all know represents Him. It is Christ as man, the Bread of life, the food of His people. But then what are the "three measures"? What is the measure of the Man Christ Jesus? Surely nothing less than this: "in Him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily." Is this not what the number three speaks of — the number of the Trinity, that is, of divine fullness?

The three measures of fine meal set out the Person of the Lord as the One in whom all the fullness of the Godhead dwelt. He was God manifest in the flesh. In contrast, the parable in Matthew 13 shows the same three measures of meal mixed through with leaven. That foretells the pollution of this mystery of godliness by the disobedient church.

But in fact, if we translate these figures, Abraham has something that may well bring the Lord in to have communion with us, wherever He finds it. These "three measures of fine meal," and this "calf, tender and good" — do you not recognise them? Surely wherever such food is found, the Lord will still keep company there. These things speak of Christ. Occupation with Christ is still the essential and only condition for communion.

There was no outward sign, it seems, by which Abraham, or anyone else, could have recognised the presence of the LORD. All that the world would have seen were three men at his tent door. Abraham had the spiritual discernment of a man of faith who walks near to God. So he distinguishes the LORD from the two angels, bows to the ground in reverence, and speaks to Him directly.

Outwardly it was simple patriarchal preparation for passing strangers. Some, not forgetting to entertain strangers, have entertained angels without knowing it. It was Abraham's honour to entertain the LORD.

Let us not forget, dear Christian readers, that one of faith's characteristics is to hasten. Abraham made haste when it was a matter of the Lord's service (Gen. 18:6-8). Zacchaeus did so when the Saviour invited him to receive Him into his house (Luke 19:6). Mary did so when the Lord called her to come to Him (John 11:29). If it is a matter of Him and of His Person, can we ever hasten enough? But on the other hand, should we not keep ourselves from the haste that so often marks the flesh and the old man? "Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed blood."

The "calf" — not necessarily what the word suggests to us, but a young, fresh animal — reminds us just as clearly of Him who was the true and perfect Workman for God. And here that mystery is told out once more. We saw God begin to press it on man after the flood: life given up must sustain life.

Abraham then calls for a calf tender and good. This speaks of the work of the Lord Jesus and His character as a servant. In Luke 15 a fattened calf is the food of the Father and His now-living son. How precious is the communion suggested there! They feed on the gathered excellencies of the One who so willingly undertook the will of God, even to death. But if Luke gives us the thought of "fattened", in Genesis we have the ideas of tender and good. The order Abraham takes shows spiritual growth: first the meal pictures His Person, then the calf His work, then the milk the riches of the inheritance.

In that patriarchal household there was simple, unquestioning, swift and willing obedience everywhere. The Lord delights to visit such homes, for He is a God of order. No wonder then that He, having seen Abraham's well-ordered household, where everybody and everything was in its proper sphere, should say, "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?"

Their arrival stirred him into action at a time when he would normally have wanted quiet rest. He first ran to meet them. Next he hurried to Sarah's tent to order preparations for entertaining them. Then he himself ran to the herd and took a calf to be killed for the meal. After that, when it was ready, he waited on them. Readiness to show hospitality marked him that day. And though three men had appeared, it later came out that two were angels, and One was the Lord Himself. Richly was the patriarch rewarded. God made known to him what He was about to do. First He confirmed the promise of a son by Sarah, and fixed the date of his birth. Then He told Abraham of the coming overthrow of Sodom. He even allowed him to plead with Him to spare it, if only ten righteous people were found in it.

These "three measures of fine meal," and this "calf, tender and good" — do you not recognise them? Surely the Lord will still keep company wherever such food is found. These things speak of Christ. Being occupied with Christ is still the essential and only requirement for communion.

This was curdled milk... Curdled milk is a common drink in the East, and when mixed with honey it is very pleasant.

Here God comes as near to taking flesh as was possible beforehand. If there is one thing that marks a man as one with others, it is sitting at the same table in social company. This is what the Lord does here. It is one of the very things in which an unbeliever finds enormous difficulty: but what is poison to an unbeliever is the food and joy of faith. Where faith receives it, we rejoice that God is at Abraham's table, sharing his hospitality, with His angels around Him — all in the appearance of men.

To this objector, God's gracious closeness and fellowship with Abraham is nothing but a physical question of eating. Yet that closeness won Abraham the glorious title "friend of God." It is astonishing how this way of thinking cheapens everything it touches... Abraham was not yet able to know the high spiritual privileges that God's stooping so low prepared the way for. But in this God did the main thing that was needed. He assured His servant's heart, in a way he could grasp and feel, of His interest in him, His affection and, I may say, His confidence.

The faith that recognises Him entertains Him with the same simplicity. There is none of the unbelieving cry so often heard, "We have seen God, and we shall die." In beautiful confidence of faith he meets Him who has come to him as man, and as man gives Him a human welcome. If He stoops to come this way, Abraham will not say, "Far be it from You, Lord." He receives Him as He comes. He puts before Him whatever he has, and the Lord accepts it without hesitation.

I cannot find that Abraham even straightened his clothes before appearing in front of the Lord Almighty. His best and his worst were not so far apart as to make him think of it. There was no getting himself ready to appear before the One who knew him through and through. Just as he was, whatever he was, the love that met him was worth receiving, then and there. It was all the sweeter and more wonderful the more unworthy he was.

The calf speaks of Christ in His patient, lowly service, and His blood shed in sacrifice. Milk symbolises the word of God in its simplest form. Butter is the cream of that milk, churned and made solid. So butter pictures the word of God becoming solid and real to someone who is exercised by it. How good such food is! Let us always keep in mind, too, that the heart of God is delighted with whatever speaks to Him of His beloved Son.

Abraham enjoys the grace in which he stands. The presence of God is his home... But being there, he is ready to take a further walk in the company of his divine Master. And so he does. They rise together from under the tree where the feast was shared; and as they go on together, the Lord tells Abraham His secrets.

Today we may walk in the still deeper knowledge of God revealed as Father. If we do, is it not possible for believers to enjoy this sweet and intimate fellowship with divine Persons? Not in the particular way the LORD appeared to Abraham. But by the Spirit, who has come from the Father, we can be led into the most blessed communion. We may know little of it, but it can be known.

Outwardly it was simple preparation for passing strangers. Some people have welcomed strangers and, without knowing it, have entertained angels. It was Abraham's honour to entertain Jehovah. In due time he hears the question put to him, which I think is the point where he enters into the spirit of the divine action: "Where is Sarah your wife?" … Could Abraham be ignorant any longer whose voice this was? Even so, Abraham does not speak before the right time. If Jehovah was pleased to appear there with two of His servants, and to put them in the ordinary form of men, it was certainly not for the faithful to break the silence Jehovah kept.

The Lord uses this moment of holy closeness to confirm Abraham's faith. He assures him that his son will be born. This concerns Sarah, so the LORD asks, "Where is Sarah your wife?" Then the LORD says, "I will certainly return to you at this time of the year; and look, Sarah your wife shall have a son." Only a Divine Person could have spoken like that. From anyone else it would have been mere presumption. We cannot count on a single day. God can say, "I will certainly return."

But the Lord had a message for Sarah too. He asks Abraham where she was. He surely meant this to catch Sarah's attention, especially when He named her (v. 9). So she understood well what the Lord then said to Abraham.

But we return to Sarah, for she, not Abraham, is just now the sweet and attractive object of our attention. She stayed modestly and quietly inside the tent. That did not rob her of the attention and honour given by her heavenly master and His two companions.

Many women say, "This does not satisfy me. Why should I stay at home? My career is out there." … Genesis, the book of beginnings, gives us an example in chapter 18 where we read of Abraham's three visitors. We find him outside the tent when they visit, but Sarah is inside, because that was her place.

But the one most closely concerned did not have Abraham's sense of God's presence. Her heart was not as ready for it. … We hear of her during this conversation behind the door. I dare say she ought not to have been there, but there she was. She was where she should not have been. Need we wonder that she gave way to feelings that little suited her? She laughed in doubt of the word. Could any of us imagine Abraham behind a door? Was there not a simple dignity in him that could never hide and listen behind a door?

Sarah then betrays her weakness of faith in Him for whom nothing is too hard, and receives a gentle rebuke from the Lord for her unbelief. But I find something wonderfully beautiful here. Scripture never mentions Sarah's failure. It is not in that most instructive eleventh chapter of Hebrews, where Sarah has obtained a good report. It is not in that beautiful passage in Peter's first letter either. And why? … because Sarah's obedience was that "of a meek and quiet spirit"; it was an obedience of the heart.

On the surface it was simple, ordinary hospitality for passing strangers. Some people, you know, welcoming strangers, have welcomed angels without knowing it. It was Abraham's honour to welcome the LORD. In time he hears the question put to him. That, I think, is the point where he enters into the spirit of what God is doing: "Where is Sarah your wife?" And He said, "I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son." Could Abraham still not know whose voice this was?

He asks Abraham where she is, surely meaning to catch Sarah's attention, especially by naming her (v. 9). So she understood well what the Lord said to Abraham.

The Lord uses this moment of holy closeness to strengthen Abraham's faith. He assures him that his son will be born... For anyone but a Divine Person to speak that way would have been sheer presumption. We cannot count on a single day. God can say, "I will surely return." So the LORD's own words settle Abraham's faith. And the Lord still delights to steady our trembling hearts with the sure word of the One who can say, "I will." "I will come again and will take you to myself." "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you" (John 14:3, 18).

"I will surely return to you." Was this lost on Abraham? Certainly not — all the more now that his long-held hope is about to enjoy a promise that is specific and, I might say, dated. If it seemed vague before, from then on it was clear and defined.

Abraham hears this great promise fully aware of the glory of the One who speaks. So he shows no surprise, raises no objections, and voices no doubt. Sarah stands in sharp contrast. Her faith and discernment do not match her husband's. She hears the words, but she has little sense of the glory of the Speaker. She doubts them because of what she finds in herself.

Sarah was now to be tested. The promise of a son came where she could hear it. She laughed too, but she thought her laugh was hidden from others. It clearly held unbelief in it, so she tried to deny it. The Lord knew, however. Her unbelieving question only drew from Him the great question, "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" Nothing was too hard, for He had lately revealed Himself to her husband as "God Almighty," though she had not yet grasped it... and later Sarah did grasp it, or we would not have the words: "By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive" (Heb. 11:11).

With Isaac we see the blessing secured on the principle of God's own sovereign choice and grace, for the word is, "Through Isaac shall your offspring be named." Ishmael was the child of the flesh, but Isaac was the child of promise. The words "About this time next year I will return, and Sarah shall have a son" make it perfectly plain that this promise came by sovereign grace.

Sarah shows here how weak her faith is in Him, for Whom nothing is too hard, and the Lord gently rebukes her unbelief. But I find something very beautiful in a simple fact. The eleventh chapter of the letter to the Hebrews says nothing at all about Sarah's failure, and neither does that lovely passage in the first letter of the apostle Peter.

God's purpose, or secret, or covenant, rested on resurrection. It rested on setting aside the flesh in its strength and resources. It rested on doing something beyond and above nature. That is the same thing as resurrection — life given to Sarah's dead and powerless body. And so Isaac is born out of the dead bodies of Abraham and Sarah.

She hears what is said, but has little sense of the glory of the Speaker. She doubts what is said because of what she finds in herself. She is old and her body is worn out. So she argues that what the Lord has said cannot come true. In her heart she laughs in unbelief at the very idea of having a son.

Sarah's laughter when the son is promised to her is the laughter of unbelief. She looked to her womb, which was a grave. Her laughter became the occasion of that wonderful word the Lord spoke: "Is anything too hard for the LORD?"

He was on the other side of the door. He soon showed that no door could keep Him from knowing what passed in Sarah's heart, or where she was. How surprising it must have been to her, and how sharp the rebuke, though it was given without a harsh word! "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" How good it is to train ourselves in this one answer to every difficulty! This is why we are called to walk by faith, not by sight. God never intended a Christian, or His church, to be exempt from difficulties.

Nothing was too hard. He had just revealed Himself to her husband as "God Almighty," though she had not yet grasped it. Jeremiah grasped it in his day (Jer. 32:17), and in time Sarah did too, or we would not have the statement: "By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive" (Heb. 11:11).

The promise of God was beyond hope, and contrary to it, if he reasoned from himself and Sarah. Yet he believed in hope, because God had declared that he would have offspring as many as the stars and the sand. Faith reasons from God and His word, not from self or circumstances.

So Isaac's birth was the occasion of joy, as his very name implies. Sarah laughed no more in unbelief, as she once had (Gen. 18:12-15), but with gladness of heart, sharing it with all who hear of the goodness of the Lord. It is a lovely witness to the power of grace when faith gives the victory in what had been one's weakness, and sin, and shame.

Here is fruit beyond calculation, and certainly beyond the limits of Sarah's own hopes. Natural hope was dead, so that long before this she had given up any such expectation. In this way God teaches that He alone is the true Resource of His saints. The fruit of faith's submission is far greater than it appears at the time, or perhaps for years afterwards.

Abraham hears this great promise, and he fully realises the glory of the One who is speaking. So he expresses no astonishment, raises no difficulties, and expresses no doubt. In sharp contrast, Sarah's faith and discernment are not equal to her husband's. She hears the words, but has little sense of the glory of the Speaker. She doubts them because of what she finds in herself. She is old and her body is worn out. So she argues that what the Lord has said cannot come true. In her heart she laughs in unbelief at the very suggestion of having a son.

Sarah was now to be tested, and the announcement of the birth of a son came where she could hear it. Her response was also a laugh, but one she thought nobody else knew about. It clearly did have an element of unbelief in it, since she tried to deny it. It was known to the Lord, however. Sarah's unbelieving question only drew from Him the great question, "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" Nothing was too hard. He had recently revealed Himself to her husband as "God Almighty," though she had not yet grasped it. Sarah did grasp it in time, or we would not have the statement: "By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive" (Hebrews 11:11).

Adon (lord) first occurs in Genesis 18:12, where Sarah speaks of Abraham as "her lord." And 1 Peter 3:6 says, "as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord." This sense is acknowledged deference to the one addressed. The superiority may belong to a position within a relationship, as of a husband addressed by a wife, or of a servant to a master, or of a subject to a king. That is the common use.

It is clear from these words that Sarah's words as well as her laughter were within herself, that is, not spoken aloud. So Sarah's words "my lord," used of her husband, were not said out loud at the time. She only said them inside herself. What a proof, then! With her those words were not a meaningless confession of the lips. They came from the thoroughly submissive and obedient heart of a truly godly wife.

It is only in Hebrews 11 that we find mention of Sarah's faith. You look in vain in the Old Testament narrative for any evidence of faith on her part. How good it is to remember that God's eye can detect what we cannot! ... She laughed; and when the Lord spoke to her, she denied it. So the two things that marked her at that time were unbelief and untruthfulness. This seems most unpromising soil for any plant of faith to grow in; and yet God could see there the elements of a faith which in His sight was of great price.

"And Sarah said, God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me." She had laughed at first when Jehovah announced the set time for her to become a mother. She added the shame of untruth when charged with it (Genesis 18). But here grace changes everything. God, she owns, made her laugh now. It was no longer within herself, but from Him; and others who heard would share her joy.

Perhaps it was then that the first word, showing the divine power of Him who chose to be there, fell on Abraham's attentive ear. "I will surely return to you." It does not suit man to talk of surely returning. Was this lost on Abraham? Of course not. His long-cherished hope was now to enjoy a promise with a stated and, I may say, dated fulfilment: "I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son." If it seemed vague before, it was now clear and fixed.

Abraham hears this great promise with a full sense of the glory of the One who speaks. So he shows no astonishment, raises no objections, and expresses no doubt. In sharp contrast, Sarah's faith and discernment are not equal to her husband's. She hears the words, but has little sense of the glory of the Speaker. She doubts them because of what she finds in herself... She is rebuked for her unbelief, and Abraham is reminded that nothing is too hard for the Lord, however impossible the promise looks on natural ground.

Sarah's unbelieving question only drew from Him the great question, "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" Nothing was too hard. He had just revealed Himself to her husband as "the Almighty God," though she had not grasped it yet. Jeremiah grasped it in his day (Jer. 32:17), and Sarah soon did too. Otherwise we would not read: "By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive" (Heb. 11:11).

"Is anything too hard for the Lord?" is the Lord's challenge to Jeremiah on that occasion, as it is to Sarah in Genesis 18. Sarah did not know how she could have a child, for her body was then dead. She did not know the resurrection-strength of God. Jeremiah was spending his money on a piece of ground then held by the enemy. He did not know how he could ever get its value back, for, like Sarah, he did not know the resurrection-strength of God.

Everything on man's side having broken down, we learn that the "set time of which God had spoken" has come and the promised heir is born. He is called Isaac, meaning "laughter"... Everything takes place in God's set time, and according to God's Word.

But Sarah laughed in her disbelief. Then, once found out, she denied it: "I did not laugh." She denied it for the same reason that some of us may have had to blame ourselves for something no better. "She was afraid!" How often these sad departures from the truth come from nothing but a lack of moral courage! One thing would train the soul in unflinching and most careful truthfulness. It is what Abraham cultivated and Sarah failed in: being at home in the presence of God day by day.

But all this makes the grace of God so marked and cheering. We find her early failures entirely forgotten, and only the later triumph recorded here. What undeniable proof that He loves to speak well of His own! "Is anything too hard for the LORD?" He overturned all the thoughts and reasonings of her mind. Her doubts and her evasions deepened her self-judgment. His own word carried its own convincing light. From then on she "considered Him faithful who had promised." May we not ask, Is anything too good for the Lord?

But Sarah laughed in her disbelief. Then, convicted, she denied it, saying, "I did not laugh." She denied it for the same reason that some of us may have had to blame ourselves for doing the same. "She was afraid!" How often these sad departures from the truth come from nothing but the lack of moral courage! One thing trains the soul to be truthful without flinching: being at home in the presence of God, day after day. That is what Abraham cultivated, and what Sarah failed in.

There is also the laughter of unbelief. It fills our mouths when God's promises are too great for our narrow hearts to take in. Or when the visible means look too small, in our judgement, to carry out His grand designs... "But Sarah denied it, saying, 'I did not laugh,' for she was afraid." Unbelief makes us cowards and liars; faith makes us bold and truthful.

Charged with her unbelief, Sarah is ashamed to own the truth. As so often, fear of consequences leads to lying and deceit. She "denied, saying, I did not laugh." It may have been true that she did not laugh aloud. But she laughed in her heart. She has to learn that she is in the presence of One who can read the heart and see behind tent doors.

As soon as Sarah knew that God could see her heart, she was afraid and said that she did not laugh. Such a lie is no use before God. So He said, "No, but you did laugh." Oh, friends! please remember that God can see your inner hearts. Yet He loves you. He wants to take away your sins and to give you everlasting life.

In this particular case there was a lesson to be taught, and so God does not pass it by. He does not allow Sarah to simply say, "I did not laugh." So He says, "No, but you did laugh." His unmistakable voice brings the sin home. Oh, what a thought for Sarah afterwards, and how humbling! Not only did she lie — she dared to lie to God Himself. And her one meeting with Him left her this to reflect on! It was the last word that passed between her and God Himself.

What a God we have to do with! What patience, long-suffering, goodness! and this with (not merely a human being, but) a child of His! And His way is to let a word from Him act on her conscience. Never do we hear of any repetition of the evil on Sarah's part. It was a lesson not to be forgotten, yet how gracious!

The heavenly visitors came to the door of Abraham's tent. Sarah was listening behind the door to the astounding promise the Lord was giving to Abraham... She laughed; and when the Lord spoke to her, she denied it. So the two things that marked her at that time were unbelief and untruthfulness. This seems most unpromising soil for any plant of faith to grow in. Yet God could see there the makings of a faith that in His sight was of great price.

All this makes the grace of God stand out and cheer us. He completely forgets these early failures, and records only the later triumph here. How undeniable the proof that He loves to speak well of His own!... Her doubts, her evasions, deepened her self-judgment. His own word carried its own convincing light. From then on she counted the One who had promised to be faithful.

Here is another beautiful feature in Abraham, which also had its reward. His was not a mere hospitality that receives like a patron without going any further. In Abraham there was nothing of what we may call the condescension of a great man. We can scarcely call that true hospitality, or at least Christian hospitality... Genuine humility was there. With it came an unmistakable dignity of character, and no less true kindness, and lowly, persevering love. So he stays close to their steps, and no wonder. It was not merely a ready heart for a stranger. He felt the glory of his visitors, and of One among them especially.

It is not simply that everything is under the eye of God, which is always true, but this is the look that comes before judgment. The Lord came down to see before the judgment at Babel. Again He looked toward Sodom before its destruction (Gen. 18:16); and again we read that the Lord looked on the host of the Egyptians before their overthrow (Ex. 14:24).

God waits and bears long with the wickedness of men, but He is not indifferent to sin. It cries out to Him until at last it is ripe for judgment. But even so, the Lord is slow to judge. First we read of the two angels that they "looked down toward Sodom" (v. 16). Then they "went toward Sodom" (v. 22). Finally, "the two angels came to Sodom in the evening" (Gen. 19:1).

The Lord directed them in judgment, and Abraham went with them to show them the way. He is here the companion of the Lord and the confidant of His thoughts. And to us the Lord is not only the eternal spring of blessing to our souls, but He makes His saints His companions; not always, it is true, but still He does so. He makes us His companions by what He tells us. There is no happier or surer way to show love to someone than to share your thoughts and feelings with them.

But now the Lord has spoken that word of present fulfilment, and they rise up to go on their way. Now the Lord will deal with Abraham as a man deals with his friend. He speaks with Abraham about what did not concern himself but the world. It is not Abraham's needs, or even Abraham's walk, but the intention of God which He would have him know... It is communion, personal fellowship with God about what concerns Himself and His ways.

"Abraham went with them to set them on their way." That was all. He was entirely apart from the judgment about to fall on Sodom.

Here Abraham is seen as "the friend of God." "The servant does not know what his lord does." But the Lord told Abraham what He was about to do to Sodom. Lot was the one most deeply affected by that solemn event, yet he knew nothing of it.

One thing has struck me. Messages from angels never teach or help Abraham. The Lord Himself teaches him, or, what amounts to the same thing, the angel of the Lord does. But contact with Lot comes only through angels. So with the destruction of Sodom: the Lord appeared to Abraham, and the Lord spoke to Abraham. Only two angels visited Lot.

Through this faith we have fellowship with God, with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ our Lord. He is not ashamed to call us His friends, as Abraham was called the friend of God. In business with the world, we say what has to be said about the matter in hand, as politely as we can. Once that is said, it is finished. With a friend, we open our minds. We speak of things that have nothing to do with business, of everything that is in our hearts. When Abraham was called the friend of God, God was not talking with him about the promises made to him. He was telling him all His intentions about the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah.

So the Lord makes His ways and thoughts known to Abraham, as a man would to his friend. He reveals secrets to him that do not concern him. If they did concern him, Abraham would in a sense have a right to hear them, and the Lord would surely tell him. But he has no personal interest in the matters communicated. They are the Lord's thoughts and purposes about a city and a people Abraham had no contact with whatever. They were strangers to him and he to them — and that quite deliberately. So the Lord now deals with Abraham as a friend — not even as a disciple, much less as a sinner, but as a friend.

Here it is not a question of salvation, but of communion with the mind and purposes of God. Let Christian parents notice and seriously weigh this. When God was looking for a man to whom He could disclose His secret counsels, He chose one marked by the simple trait of "commanding his children and his household."

Do we not also see the connection between the man of God and the prophet? Men of God was their standing title, and Abraham too is called "a prophet." Amos says, "For the Lord GOD does nothing without revealing his secret to his servants the prophets." To be with God is the way to see into the reality of things — even of the world itself.

Abraham enjoys the most intimate communion with the LORD, who reveals His counsels to him as to His friend. Intercession is the fruit of this revelation. Judgment falls on the world. Abraham stands on the top of the mountain and talks with God about the judgment that was to fall on the world below, where he was not. Lot had taken his place in that world, and he is saved, but only as through fire.

Lot could not intercede with God as Abraham did. He did not know what it was to draw near to God. He was too deeply caught up in Sodom's affairs to have communion with God. We cannot intercede with God on behalf of wrongdoers unless we are separate from them and know the intimacy of communion with God.

Man is naturally a great planner for the future down here. Knowing God's plan for the future is a fine antidote to man's planning and plans. And "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?" contains one of God's ways in His dealings with the members of the household of faith, as much as with the father of the faithful. If the things which must soon take place are known to you and stay with you, the flesh will be judged. The world will be spoiled for you, and the very hope of the coming glory will break its gripping power over the natural mind.

The heavenly visitors set out toward Sodom, and Abraham went with them for some distance. That led to the incident in which we see Abraham as the friend of God. A mere servant does not know what his Lord is doing, as the Lord showed in John 15:15. A friend, though, has access to things kept secret from others.

In business with the world, we say what has to be said about the matter in hand, as politely as we can. Once that is said, it is over. With a friend, we open our minds. We speak of things that have nothing to do with business, of everything that is in our hearts. When Abraham was called the friend of God, God was not talking with him about the promises made to him. He was telling him all He intended to do in the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah.

God gave the promise of blessing when His call first reached Abraham. That is in Genesis 12:3. Then in Genesis 18:18 He confirms it to him. Again, in Genesis 22:16-18 He enlarges the promise, and we find that it will be carried out through "the Seed," who is Christ... Once the Seed is introduced, He is never left out, because everything in the way of fulfilment depends on Him.

He was given the privilege not only of becoming a great nation, but also of being the forefather of the Messiah, in whom all the nations would be blessed.

God gave the promise to Abraham, and He will carry it out in his seed on earth in days to come. "I will make of you a great nation … and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed." Here room is left for blessing to go out to the Gentiles. But note this: they are to be blessed in Abraham, and afterwards in his seed.

We know the use that the Spirit of God makes of this promise. He says, "The Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, 'In you shall all the nations be blessed'" (Galatians 3:8). Abraham did not, and could not, foresee how far the faith he acted on would reach when he answered God's call. But God foresaw that it was the one way of blessing for all the families of the earth. So now, in our small measure, only God can foresee how far the blessing to others may reach when one soul answers the call of God in simple, whole-hearted faith.

This is not a question of salvation, but of sharing the mind and purposes of God. Let the Christian parent notice this fact and weigh it. When God was looking for a man to whom He could reveal His secret counsels, He chose one who had this simple mark: he was "commanding his children and his household."

So he did not spare a thought for himself or his house. Like a true man of faith, he used his place in the presence of God to plead for a brother — a man whose love of the world had plunged him into the very middle of the place that God was about to give over to everlasting destruction.

"For I know him": was that ever said about Lot? It would have had a sorrowful meaning in Lot's case; it has a blessed one in Abraham's. For this is the knowledge of approval, of divine delight. It is the knowledge that prepared the way for Jehovah to trust him with His secrets. Abraham was the one to whom He could tell what no angel knew. Only the angels who had their orders from Him knew, and they were about to carry out His judgment.

Here it is not a question of salvation, but of communion with the mind and purposes of God. Christian parents should note and weigh this. When God was seeking out a man to whom He could disclose His secret counsels, He chose one with the simple mark of "commanding his children and his household."

More than this, the Lord knew Abraham well, and knew that Abraham would command his children and his household. This is just what God Himself does. Great numbers of people, by contrast, act irresponsibly in so serious a matter. And Abraham did not merely give orders to his children. His character and conduct were such that they respected him.

The Lord does look for the household to reflect the ways of God with the head of it… And I do not mean only the children, though the children have the nearer place. I mean servants too, if there are any in the house… where there are such servants, the same should be true of them. For what brings blessing among the children secures blessing among the servants. At any rate there should be godly order, even if the children or servants have not yet come to know God.

When I look at the whole record of God's dealings with His house, I find one constant mark. He uses power on the principle of righteousness. He set up His holy authority and has carried it out without ever backing down… Now the servant must always take his Master as his model. If God rules His house with power used in righteousness, so must I. If I differ from Him in any single detail of my conduct, I am wrong in that detail.

A believer's family is not exempt from the need of faith. The father's faith cannot stand in for the child's… Here is not a promise but an assurance. It rests on what his faith produced in practice, in this Old Testament example of faith. God had called him out of the idolatry around him to keep the way of the Lord. So he owned Him as the God of his household, and not only as his own God. With such purpose of heart, his house would prove the wise man's proverb true: "Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it."

It is a solemn truth, reader, that sin has a voice which cries to heaven for God's righteous retribution. The word of God, in both the Old Testament and the New, confirms it. God says to Cain, "What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground." God then pronounces judgment on Cain. … Further, in the New Testament: "Behold, the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, are crying out against you, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts" (James 5:4).

With such a rich hinterland, Sodom no doubt became prosperous, and its prosperity was the cause of its downfall. The Lord makes this clear through the prophet Ezekiel. He says to Israel, "Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy" (Ezekiel 16:49). God in His goodness had given them prosperity to relieve those in need. Instead, they used their wealth to gratify themselves in gross wickedness.

Already we have learned that "the men of Sodom were wicked, great sinners against the LORD" (Genesis 13:13). Now we learn that their sin cried out to the Lord for judgment, for it was "very grave." God waits and bears long with the wickedness of men, but He is not indifferent to sin. It cries out to Him until at last it is ripe for judgment. But even so, the Lord is slow to judge. First we read that the two angels rose up and looked toward Sodom (v. 16). Then they "went toward Sodom" (v. 22). At last we read, "the two angels came to Sodom in the evening" (Genesis 19:1).

He is speaking here just as men speak. The Lord adopts the familiar language of everyday life, and stoops to fit Himself to what anyone could understand in a man. How God knows all things at once, without inquiry or investigation, is far beyond us. He condescends to speak this way so that Abraham might be fully at ease in His presence.

God would give us the serious lesson of never being hasty in judging evil; He knows well how quick we often are. Even God Himself will go down and see. Appearances deceive men at least, and God would teach us how to guard against mistakes. He loves patience in judgment.

When a soul is confident before God, He shares His thoughts, as here He treats Abraham as a friend, telling him even what concerns the world. With a friend we do not speak of mere business, but of what we have on our heart. Intercession is the fruit of divine revelation and fellowship. Abraham, separate from the world and with the Lord on the mountain, talks over the judgment that was about to fall on the world below.

In a moment Abraham had the sense — that is a doomed place. I must get my nephew Lot out of it. He had relatives there. If you have Christian relatives, dear unsaved sinner, do not be amazed when they press you hard about the salvation of your soul. Why? Abraham knew in his day that Sodom was doomed. He knew the judgment of the Lord was about to fall on that godless place. In the same way, we Christians know that the very next thing for the world is judgment.

The Lord was there incognito, as we say, until the tent scene is over and the angels are gone, and then it is all open. While in the tent, Abraham speaks to Him with deep respect, but the Lord does not tell the secret until He is alone with him... Abraham says, My lord, not My lords. He is fully aware that One of them is greater, and his faith sees through it all... He sends on these two angels, and we find them at Sodom right afterwards.

The two men go on towards Sodom; and Abraham and the Lord remain together. What a place of privilege and blessing! It is not worship. It is not a call to follow when the Lord led. All of that had its place. It is communion — personal fellowship with God about what concerns Himself and His ways.

Above all, Elijah stands before God. "The LORD, the God of Israel," he says, "before whom I stand"... Like Elijah, Abraham "stood yet before the Lord" (Gen. 18:22). Elisha likewise (2 Kings 3:14), and so many other prophets and men of God. When someone stands before God, God shares His thoughts with him. "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?" says the Lord.

And now Abraham takes the place of intercession. Surely one part of the purpose of this gracious message was to put him there. Our characters are to be formed by understanding Christ, and we know Him now in this very place of intercession. So how important it is to realize what is before us here! It is His people for whom the Holy Spirit intercedes below.

Each time God, in His grace, gives him what he asks. At last it is Abraham's faith that fails to draw on that grace of God — for where sin abounds, grace abounds much more.

In the preceding chapter the LORD appeared to Abraham accompanied by two angels. Here it is only the angels that come to Sodom. Abraham, in the outside place with his tent, enjoys sweet communion with the LORD. Lot, sitting in the gate of Sodom, will have no visits from the LORD. His soul may be troubled by the filthy conduct and lawless deeds of the wicked, but he will enjoy no communion with the LORD.

We observe in it a man pleading with God in a most urgent way for one who had turned his back on him, and chosen Sodom as the place to live. Abraham's soul must have been lifted far above "the things that are seen." He could forget the strife and the departure, the worldliness and evil of Lot, and still plead for him as "a righteous soul."

Abraham persevered in intercession, though he stopped short of the fullness of God's mercy. We do not know, as God knows, all He is going to do. Still, we may intercede with faith. Abraham grows bold as he goes on; his confidence increases. As a result he knows God much better than before. The peace of God kept his heart. The fruit of it all is seen in Genesis 19:27-28, where Abraham gets up early in the morning and goes to the place where he stood before the Lord, and looks down on the plain, now smoking like a furnace.

Chapters 18 and 19 record a most elevated and striking example of the intimacy of Abraham's communion with God. There he is let into the secrets of God's governmental dealings with the cities of the plain, and the Lord Himself says, "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?" ... What in the Old Testament speaks of greater intimacy than the further record, "But Abraham still stood before the Lord, and Abraham drew near and said …"?

With a friend I speak of what I have on my heart, not just of my business with him. And then, as he has received these messages from God, so he intercedes with God. He is a stranger in the place of promise, and on high in communion with Him. ... His faith associates him with the mind and character of God.

"He drew near" and says, "Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?" Note this: it is no longer a question about himself, or about the son. The son was soon to come. All this was settled. He rests upon it, his heart is perfectly free. He has no longer a single want for himself; not one request remains to be spread before Jehovah. His heart is drawn out in a spirit of grace, which answers to the grace of the Lord towards himself.

Like a genuine man of faith, he takes advantage of his place in the presence of God to intercede for a brother. That brother's worldliness had plunged him into the very middle of the place God was about to give over to everlasting destruction. "Then Abraham drew near and said, 'Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?'" (v. 23) "The righteous!" To whom can he refer? Can it be to the man who had so deliberately turned aside out of the path of faith to make his home at Sodom? Yes; he speaks of Lot — he calls him "righteous."

How high above "the things that are seen" Abraham's soul must have been lifted! He could forget the strife and the departure, the worldliness and evil of Lot, and still plead for him as "a righteous soul."

How strange the implied doubt here in Abraham's mind! ... An Abraham praying the Judge of all the earth to do right! Is it not a first principle that of course He must? How could he doubt? we say. Beloved, do we never? And how much more do we know of God than Abraham possibly could! How much of our praying, if we looked closely at it, comes down to this — asking God to do right!

He intercedes on the ground that it is impossible to destroy the righteous with the wicked. So he pleads with God to spare the city if fifty righteous men are found in it. Then he comes down to forty-five, forty, thirty, twenty, and at last to only ten. Each time God, in His grace, grants what he asks. At last it is Abraham's faith that fails to draw on the grace of God — the grace that, where sin abounds, does much more abound.

Lot could not intercede with God as Abraham did. He did not know what it was to draw near to God. He was too deeply involved in Sodom's affairs to have communion with God. We cannot intercede with God for evildoers unless we are separate from them and know the intimacy of communion with God.

How does Abraham use his favoured position? Does he use it to strengthen and secure the future of his own family? The natural heart would have pushed him at once to use his advantage that way... Instead, he gave not a thought to himself or his house. Like a true man of faith, he uses his place in God's presence to plead for a brother. That brother's love of the world had dropped him into the very middle of a place God was about to give over to everlasting destruction.

Whenever God reveals His plans to faith, it brings out the spirit of intercession... So here Abraham pleads with the Lord to spare the city.

Note how persistent Abraham is about Lot and Sodom. I wish we Christians were half as persistent! ... The Lord replies that if there are fifty righteous, the city will be saved. And if there are only forty, Lord? Yes! And if there are only thirty? Yes! And if there are only twenty? Yes! And if there are only ten, Lord? Yes! And then he stops. ... All the while he was thinking of Lot. The thought in his heart was: Lot is a righteous man, though in a wrong position, and there are sure to be a few more like him to make up the necessary ten.

As Abraham pleads with the Lord, we know he has Lot chiefly in mind. Yet he clearly could not bring himself to think that Lot might be the only righteous person in Sodom... He cannot imagine the Judge of all the earth making the righteous suffer along with the wicked. The Judge will surely do right. Fifty would be a very small share of the city. Yet Abraham probably remembered that God saved only eight people out of the whole world when He destroyed it by a flood.

God had to provide for Lot before the fiery storm could fall... For the sake of the righteous, God spares the wicked. "You are the salt of the earth."... And God preserves the world today because His children are in it.

See how much weight one godly person carries with God. Here was this big wicked Sodom. Its sins were too terrible to speak about, crying out to heaven for vengeance. Yet ten godly people in that mass of sin and wickedness would have saved the guilty city. But there were not ten. The few in it were thrust out — four people in all — and one died just outside its walls. So the city was destroyed.

Why "this once"? Sadly, our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We grow weary and fail, not He. We receive enough, through His grace, for our blessing, but we rarely go deep into it... God's grace went far beyond what Abraham asked. It reached down after all to that one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though Abraham had not the courage to say so.

He said, "I will speak yet but this once," and there he stopped short. It was as if he feared he had drawn too large a sum from the treasury of infinite grace — or had forgotten that God's bank has never yet refused faith's cheque... He stopped asking, and God stopped giving. Not so our blessed Intercessor. Of Him it can be said, "He is able to save to the uttermost... since he always lives to make intercession."

It was faith in Abraham that recognised God as the Judge of all the earth, for then, as now, God was not openly the Judge of all the earth. He was acting behind the scenes, yet dealing with evil in His government when He judged it necessary. The day is coming, in the world to come, when it will be shown openly that God is the Judge of all. He will not let evil raise its head as it has done down the centuries.

This surely does not refer to God sitting in formal judgment, as at the great white throne, but as the One who will govern the earth in righteousness. So Abraham speaks of God as Judge, when he says, "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"… Under man's rule righteousness is too often separated from judgment. Under God, the Judge of all, righteousness will return to judgment.

Jehovah comes down in grace to find, if possible, some reason why mercy might still hold back justice. "I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, and if not, I will know." Jehovah comes in grace, Abraham urges righteousness — "Will you destroy the righteous with the wicked? … far be it from you. Shall not the judge of all the earth do right? Let not the Lord be angry."

How strange the implied doubt here in Abraham's mind! What poor weak questions do not these minds of ours raise! An Abraham praying the Judge of all the earth to do right! Is it not a first principle that of course He must? How could he doubt? we say. Beloved, do we never?… If we looked closely at our prayers, how much of them would come down to this — asking God to do right!… when everything on earth seems as if it were going wrong… has the bitter question never sprung up in our hearts, even if it never reached our lips?

Why "this once"? Alas! our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We weary and fail, not He… Jehovah answered in full all that Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted. Yet His grace went far beyond that, for it came down after all to the one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though Abraham had not the boldness to say so. But Jehovah knew it; and while He surely did not spare that wicked place — and His righteous government meant it had to stand as an example of divine judgment — He still rescued that righteous soul despite his faults.

Abraham had boldly said to the Lord, "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" — words for which we have all been deeply thankful, words that give us peace of mind as to God's governmental dealings in this sad world.

He pleads as one whose heart felt deeply. When our hearts are engaged, we do not do the work badly. That is the real secret of it... It was so with Abraham. He intercedes earnestly, and he keeps on. He puts that thought into words: "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?" Of course He will. And here we have the answer of grace: "If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will spare the whole place for their sake."

The Lord gives Abraham full assurance that He would not destroy the city if He found fifty righteous there. This surely reminds us that believers are "the salt of the earth" (Matt. 5:13). Their presence protects the world from the judgment that looks so near. At the Rapture, the Lord will take all believers into His presence. Then this preserving character will be gone, and judgment will fall in all its terror on the ungodly world.

It is true that the atoning sufferings of Christ are absolutely necessary for the blessing of men. Still, in the way God governs the earth, He gives earthly deliverance and blessing because He delights in the godly. We see this principle illustrated in the history of Sodom. Abraham asks God to spare Sodom from destruction in this life if ten righteous men are found in the city. And God was ready to do it.

God then treats him as a friend. He tells him, not what concerns Abraham himself, but what concerns the world. With a friend I speak of what I have on my heart, not just of my business with him. And because Abraham has received these communications from God, he now intercedes with God — a stranger in the place of promise, yet on high in communion with Him. And this is even more the place of the saints now, through the Holy Spirit: they have the full communication of God's mind and ways in the word, and the Lord is coming to take them up. That is the scene they live in by faith, and intercession is founded on it... His faith associates him with the mind and character of God.

Divine power waited on faith — faith measured the active resources of God on the occasion... For as long as Abraham stood interceding, the Lord stood promising.

Alas! our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We weary and fail, not He... The Lord answered in full everything that Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted. But His grace went far beyond that. It came down after all to that one person who lay on the heart of Abraham, though Abraham had not the boldness to say so. The Lord knew it. He did not spare that wicked place. In His righteous government it was made an example of divine judgment. Yet He still rescued that righteous soul, despite his faults.

Abraham does not ask anything for himself here; he pleads for others. Indeed, what could he ask for? He was enjoying conversation with God, and the promises about the son were sure and already given. He is in the place of blessing, walking in the spirit of communion with the God he now knows. This began with the revelation of Himself by God. Now that Abraham is alone with Him all is boldness, though reverence, with one well known.

How precious is this access to Him who had come down! Abraham shows no shrinking behind the door. He has confidence in God. "Abraham drew near." The Christian can understand it all, now that redemption has been accomplished, and sin has been judged. God's word and the work of Christ have left us without a single spot or stain to catch the eye of the Judge. But is there always in us, as here in Abraham, a real readiness to draw near and speak to our God? Are we glad to make proper use of the privileges we have?

Ashes, mostly from burnt wood, were used as a sign of sorrow or mourning, either put on the head... or on the body with sackcloth... To eat ashes expresses great sorrow, Ps. 102:9; and to be reduced to them is a figure of complete destruction... "Dust and ashes" was the figure Abraham used of himself before Jehovah, Gen. 18:27; and Job said he had become like them by the hand of God. Job 30:19.

He had no confession to make and no requests to bring for himself, but as the Lord had spoken to him about Sodom, he now speaks to the Lord about it. He intercedes, as one near to God, as one who was at ease about himself, and so at leisure to attend to others.

Abraham knew such liberty in the Lord's presence. Yet we find him deeply aware of his own sin and nothingness, like everyone else who has real dealings with God. We hear Job saying: "Behold, I am vile"; Isaiah saying: "I am undone"; Peter saying: "I am a sinful man, O Lord"; Paul saying: "I am chief" of sinners. Abraham says, "I am but dust and ashes," and, as far as the Scripture record goes, he heads the list, the first to condemn himself in the presence of God.

A spiritual prayer is a humble prayer: "Lord, You have heard the desire of the humble" (Ps. 10:17, older translation). Prayer is asking for charity, which takes humility. It is fitting to see a poor nothing lie at the feet of its Maker... The lower the heart descends, the higher the prayer ascends. God accepts broken expressions, when they come from broken hearts.

When Abraham lowers the number to forty-five (v. 28), he takes the humble place. He recognizes that he is only a creature of dust speaking to his infinitely great Creator. Yet he asks out of confidence in the living God. Again God gives His word that He would not destroy the city if forty-five righteous were found there... Each time he shows that he feels unworthy to ask at all, but the Lord loves to encourage confidence in His grace.

Notice how persistent Abraham is about Lot and Sodom. If only we Christians were half as persistent!... The Lord replies that if fifty righteous are found, the city will be saved. And if there are only forty, Lord? Yes! And if only thirty? Yes!... All the while he was thinking of Lot. The thought in his heart was — I believe Lot is a righteous man, though in a wrong position. And there are sure to be a few more like him to make up the necessary ten.

Abraham's conduct in this chapter gives us one of the most important results of a holy and separated walk. We see in it a man pleading with God in a most urgent way for one who had turned his back on him and chosen Sodom as the place to live. How completely Abraham's soul must have been lifted above "the things that are seen"! He could forget the quarrel and the parting, the worldliness and evil of Lot, and still plead for him as "a righteous soul."

For as long as the poor widow brought out her jars, the pot kept giving its oil. The oil waited on the jars. The jars were the measure of the oil. In other words, divine power waited on faith — faith measured the active resources of God on the occasion. This was like the Lord long ago, standing with Abraham. For as long as Abraham stood interceding, the Lord stood promising.

God had to provide for Lot before the fiery storm could fall. The Lord said He could do nothing until Lot had gone out of the city. And the little city of Zoar was spared for his sake, because he asked for it. For the sake of the righteous the wicked are spared. "You are the salt of the earth." Had there been ten righteous men found in those five cities, they would have been spared. And the world is now preserved because the children of God are in it.

Sodom would have been spared if only ten righteous persons had been in it. Zoar was spared because only one righteous man entered it. Such is the abounding mercy of our God, and His slowness to judge.

Alas! our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We grow weary and fail, not He. We get enough, through His grace, for our blessing, but we rarely venture into its depths... The Lord answered in full everything Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted. Yet His grace went far beyond it. It reached down at last to that one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though he had not the boldness to say so. But the Lord knew it. He did not spare that wicked place — His righteous government required it to be made an example of divine judgment. Even so, He rescued that righteous soul in spite of his faults.

This was a happy and a holy use to make of his place of nearness to God. It is always so. Some souls can "draw near to God" in the assurance of faith, with heart and conscience fully at rest, resting in God about the past, the present and the future. Such a soul will be able and willing to intercede for others.

We think this case stands alone among all the Old Testament records of men meeting God face to face. No other shows such closeness and such freedom, with no fear at all. Abraham, secure in his own standing before the Lord, took the place of an intercessor.

When God tells him what He is going to do, he says, "Will You spare the place for fifty righteous?" and God says, "I will." Then he says, "For forty-five?" God says that if there are forty-five He will not destroy it. This makes Abraham bolder, and he goes on until he is ashamed to trespass any more on God's power.

Each time he shows that he feels unworthy to ask. But the Lord loves to encourage confidence in His grace.

All the while he was thinking of Lot. The thought in his heart was this: I believe Lot is a righteous man, though he is in a wrong position. There are sure to be a few more like him to make up the necessary ten.

Divine power waited on faith — faith measured the active resources of God on the occasion. It was the same when the Lord stood with Abraham long ago: as long as Abraham stood interceding, the Lord stood promising.

He said, "I will speak yet but this once," and there he stopped short, as if afraid of having presented too large a request at the treasury of infinite grace, or forgetting that faith's cheque was never yet refused at God's bank. God did not hold him back. By no means. There was abundance of grace and patience in Him to have listened to His dear servant, had he gone on even to three or one. But the servant was limited. He was afraid of overdrawing his account. He ceased to ask, and God ceased to give.

Why "I will speak yet but this once"? Our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We weary and fail, He does not. Through His grace we get enough for our blessing, but we rarely venture into its depths. Although the Lord answered to the full all that Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted, His grace far exceeded it, for it came down after all to that one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though he had not the boldness to say so. But the Lord knew it.

Later God could say to Jeremiah about the doomed city of Jerusalem, "See if you can find a man, one who does justice and seeks truth, that I may pardon her." We know that Man has been found. Christ is the "one mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself as a ransom for all." Through this Man we are told to intercede for all men.

The Lord shows His own most patient grace in judgment, both in verse 21 and in the intercession. Abraham never says "Jehovah," but "Adonai." When he pleaded with the Lord, Abraham was not in his own place, at home on earth. He was with Jehovah in the way of faith — we may say a heavenly way. Afterwards he returned to his place, the home of nature. There he had welcomed the Lord. But in his communing and intercession he stood before the Lord, where the Lord had taken him.

When Abraham lowers the number to forty-five, he takes the humble place. He recognises that he is only a creature of dust speaking to his infinitely great Creator. Yet he asks out of confidence in the living God. Again God gives His word that He would not destroy the city if forty-five righteous were found there. Then Abraham reduces the number to forty, and receives the same gracious assurance… Then to thirty, and lower yet to twenty, and finally to ten. Each time he shows that he feels his own unworthiness in making these requests. But the Lord loves to encourage confidence in His grace, and declares that He would not destroy the city if even ten righteous were found there.

Notice how Abraham's remarkable pleadings blend deep reverence with simple familiarity. Then remember what he is pleading for. Nothing he says concerns himself or any personal interest of his own. His first concern is the reputation and glory of the great "Judge of all the earth." His second is the deliverance of Lot and his family, and the plight of the sinners of Sodom.

As long as the poor widow kept bringing out her jars, the pot kept producing its oil. The oil waited on the jars. The jars were the measure of the oil. In other words, divine power waited on faith. Faith measured what God's power did that day. It was the same long ago when the Lord stood with Abraham. For as long as Abraham stood interceding, the Lord stood promising.

We see in this scripture that Abraham's intercession, however blessed it may have been, had a limit. The intercessor was only a man. It did not reach the need. He said, "I will speak yet but this once," and there he stopped short. It was as if he feared he had drawn too large an amount on the treasury of infinite grace. Or he forgot that faith's cheque was never yet refused at God's bank. God was not the one who limited him. Far from it. There was plenty of grace and patience in Him to listen to His dear servant, even if he had gone down to three or one. But the servant had a limit. He was afraid of overdrawing his account. He ceased to ask, and God ceased to give. Not so our blessed Intercessor. Of Him we can say, "He is able to save to the uttermost… since he always lives to make intercession."

Intercession for others before the Lord. God enabled him to plead for those who were mixed up in Sodom's defilement, and in danger of sharing Sodom's judgment. This was a happy and a holy use to make of his place of nearness to God. So it always is. Think of the soul that can "draw near to God" in the assurance of faith. Its heart and conscience are at perfect rest, and it can rest in God about the past, the present and the future. That soul will be able and willing to intercede for others.

A spiritual prayer is a humble prayer: "O LORD, you hear the desire of the afflicted" (Psalm 10:17; older translations read "the humble"). Prayer is the asking of alms, which requires humility. It is fitting to see a poor nothing lie at the feet of its Maker: "Behold, I have undertaken to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes" (Genesis 18:27). The lower the heart descends, the higher the prayer ascends. God accepts broken expressions, when they come from broken hearts.

Abraham's prayer had no relation to Abraham's own wants. He was safe from the judgments about to fall on the wicked. Still he pleads earnestly for the righteous who were mixed in among them, in danger of sharing their judgment. … This is a high order of prayer. It is prayer where a servant of the Lord rises above private or personal needs and cares deeply about Christ's interests in His people.

How great the intimacy, how strong the confidence — we might almost say, what familiarity he uses in his pleading! And how pleasing to God his anxiety that righteous men should not be caught up in the judgment — indeed more, that even the guilty cities should be spared if only ten righteous men should be found there! God goes as far as Abraham's faith. It was he that ceased to ask before God ceased to grant. What a mighty power with God is faith! He in grace would have gone further, if Abraham's faith had.

The sins of the cities of the plain were great, and cried out for judgment. But judgment is God's strange work. He does not will the death of any, and in Abraham He found a man after His own heart. So Abraham pleaded. He had a care for God's honour, for he had no doubt that the Judge of all the earth would do right. His plea was that the cities might be spared for the sake of the righteous in them. How gladly God would have shown mercy if fifty righteous men had been found in them, or forty-five, or forty, or thirty, or twenty, or even ten. And as long as Abraham interceded, God answered and stayed the judgment.

Alas! our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We weary and fail, not He. We get enough, through His grace, for our blessing, but rarely do we venture into its depths. … The Lord answered to the full all that Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted. Yet His grace far exceeded it. It came down after all to that one person who lay on the heart of Abraham, though Abraham had not the boldness to say so. But the Lord knew it. He did not spare that wicked place, yet He still rescued that righteous soul in spite of his faults.

He said, "I will speak yet but this once," and there he stopped short. It was as if he feared he had presented too large a cheque at the treasury of infinite grace — or as if he forgot that faith's cheque was never yet refused at God's bank. It was not that God limited him. By no means. … But the servant was limited. He was afraid of overdrawing his account. He ceased to ask, and God ceased to give. Not so our blessed Intercessor. Of Him it can be said, "He is able to save to the uttermost … since He always lives to make intercession."

When Abraham lowers the number to forty-five, he takes the humble place. He is only a creature of dust speaking to his infinitely great Creator. Yet he asks out of confidence in the living God... Then to thirty, and lower yet to twenty, and finally to ten. Each time he shows that he feels unworthy to ask. But the Lord loves to encourage confidence in His grace. He declares that He will not destroy the city if there are even ten righteous people in it.

He reasoned before the Lord in the assurance that the Judge of all the earth would do right, and in his pleadings he doubtless had Lot and his family in view. In the next chapter we read of Lot's sons-in-law. So he probably counted his wife, his unmarried daughters, his married daughters and their husbands. Together they might come to as many as ten in Sodom who could be counted righteous. So, starting at fifty, and going down to forty-five, forty, thirty, twenty, he stopped satisfied at ten. The next chapter shows that even ten were not there.

Why "this once"? Our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We grow weary and fail; He does not. We get enough, through His grace, for our blessing, but we rarely venture into its depths. The Lord answered in full all that Abraham's faith dared to ask, yet His grace went far beyond it. It came down after all to that one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though Abraham did not have the boldness to say so. But the Lord knew it. He did not spare that wicked place, yet He still rescued that righteous soul despite his faults.

Abraham had not definitely asked for this. Still, he kept pleading until he had the promise that God would spare the cities if only ten righteous people were inside. He surely had Lot and his family in mind. There were not ten righteous there. All the same, God answered the spirit of Abraham's prayer. He rescued the one man who could be called righteous.

We see, in this scripture, that however blessed Abraham's intercession might be, it was limited, because the intercessor was only a man. It did not reach the need. He said, "I will speak again but this once," and there he stopped short. It was as if he feared he had asked too much from the treasury of infinite grace... There was plenty of grace and patience in God to have listened to His dear servant, had he gone on even to three or one. But the servant was limited... He stopped asking, and God stopped giving. Not so our blessed Intercessor. Of Him it can be said, "He is able to save to the uttermost... since He always lives to make intercession."

For the sake of the righteous the wicked are spared. "You are the salt of the earth." Had there been ten righteous men found in those five cities, they would have been spared. And the world is now preserved because the children of God are in it, for He is "not wishing that any should perish."

It is beautiful to see that the Lord does not judge Sodom until it has all become so bad that there were not even ten righteous persons there.

As long as Abraham stood interceding, the Lord stood promising.

It closed this wonderful conference. Abraham's words ran out, and the Lord had answered him to the end. Then He went His way, when He had finished speaking with Abraham. What a place for the child of faith to be in!

Why "this once"? Sadly, our faith never reaches up to the grace of God. We grow weary and fail; He does not. We get enough, through His grace, for our blessing, but we rarely venture into its depths. Measure it as we may, we certainly never reach the bottom.

Each time God, in His grace, grants his request; until at last it is Abraham's faith that fails to draw upon that grace of God, that where sin abounds, grace abounds much more.

Abraham is silent (v. 33): "And the LORD went his way, when he had finished speaking to Abraham." But He did more than Abraham asked. He withdrew Lot from Sodom and saved him. Nothing could be done until Lot was safe (Gen. 19:16, 22). God's eye was upon him. What blessedness to be able to count on His love for the righteous!

Jehovah answered in full everything Abraham's faith and confidence in His grace attempted. Yet His grace went far beyond that. It came down at last to the one person who lay on Abraham's heart, though he had not the boldness to say so. But Jehovah knew it. He did not spare that wicked place, for His righteous government made it an example of divine judgment. Even so, He rescued that righteous soul, in spite of his faults.

When a soul is in this confidence, God shares His thoughts. Here He treats Abraham as a friend, telling him even what concerns the world. With a friend we do not speak of mere business, but of what we have on our heart. Intercession is the fruit of divine revelation and fellowship.

If we cannot intercede for a person, the sin is stronger than our faith. When we are near God in practice, the Spirit which sees the sin intercedes for the sinner.

Abraham was not in his own place, at home on earth, when he pleaded with the Lord. He was with Jehovah in the way of faith — we may say a heavenly way. He returned to his place, the home of nature. There he had received the Lord. But in his fellowship and intercession he was before the Lord, where the Lord had taken him.

Later God could say to Jeremiah about the doomed city of Jerusalem, "if you can find a man, one who does justice and seeks truth, that I may pardon her" (Jer. 5:1). We know that Man has been found. Christ is the "one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all." Through this Man we are told to intercede for all people (1 Tim. 2:1-6).

How every circumstance seems designed to bring out the contrast! Two angels come, not men: there is distance, not familiarity; and the Lord Himself does not come near. So communion there is not and cannot be. Evening, too, has fallen; they come in gloom, and as if not to be seen.

While the Lord came to Abraham in the full light of day, the two angels come to Sodom "in the evening." They come, not to give a public witness to Sodom, but, as it were, in the secrecy of the evening gloom to pull a falling saint out of the fire of judgment (Gen. 18:1; Gen. 19:1).

As they approached, Lot was sitting in the gate of Sodom. That means, of course, that he had accepted the office of a magistrate in that extremely wicked city. He not only saw and heard terrible evils as a private person, but came into contact with it all as a magistrate.

Lot was sitting in the gate, the place of a judge.

The Lord no longer stoops to accompany His messengers, nor visits Lot as He visited Abraham. At last they yield to his pressure, enter his house, and accept his unleavened bread.

The history that now opens before us is one of contrast, and it is full of instruction for us, who stand on the eve of a judgment far larger in scale. Our Lord Himself applies it, as He applies the disaster in the days of Noah, as a warning for the present… It will be a judgment of God… and as none of the wicked will understand, so none will escape.

Those who appear in Genesis 18 as "men" to Abraham go on to Sodom as "angels" in Genesis 19. They go there to deliver Lot, but they cannot show him the closeness they show to Abraham. Righteous as he is, and "greatly distressed by the sensual conduct of the wicked," he is still one who is "saved, but only as through fire." He is found, not in his tent door at Mamre, but in the "gate of Sodom." He is one of those righteous men in an evil place, for whom Abraham intercedes with God. When he is delivered, it is said of him: "God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow, when He overthrew the cities in which Lot lived." (Gen. 19:29.)

Lot met the angels with great respect, though not with Abraham's refreshing warmth. Abraham had run to meet his visitors and bowed to the ground. Lot rose and bowed with his face toward the earth — a stiffer, more formal greeting. As a believer, he invited the men into his house for the night. He suggested they rise early and go on their way. Perhaps he felt it would not be very safe for the men to stay long... Lot urged them strongly. No doubt he realized the danger they would be in if they were outside.

Poor, selfish Lot! He had gone down to Sodom. From the tent pitched toward Sodom, he had ended up living in Sodom. There he no longer had a tent — he had a house. He had settled down and given up his character as pilgrim. His daughters were fully at home in Sodom, and they married unbelieving men of Sodom. More than that, Lot had taken a position in Sodom. He "was sitting in the gate of Sodom," and the mob said, "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!"

The angels' word to Lot is an outright condemnation of his position in Sodom. They would rather spend the night in the town square than enter under the roof of one in a wrong position. Indeed, their only object in coming to Sodom seems to have been to rescue Lot, and that because of Abraham.

They would not enter Lot's house. You say, Why not? I think the reason is very simple. They did not think Lot's house was of good repute. The behaviour in his house made the two messengers prefer to stay outside rather than go in. Christians, what a lesson for you and me. What is the atmosphere of your house and mine? Is the atmosphere of your house such that God would like to come into it?

How every circumstance seems designed to bring out the contrast! Two angels come, not men: there is distance, not familiarity; and the Lord Himself does not come near. So there is no communion, and there cannot be. Evening has fallen too; they come in gloom, as if not to be seen. And although Lot's hospitality is as ready as Abraham's, there is no such readiness in the response... Off the path of faith, he does not master his circumstances; they master him.

In chapter 18 we are told that when Abraham looked up, he saw three men standing near him. The true rendering of that word is "stationed themselves." It carries the sense of wanting to stay, in surroundings that suited them in every way. Is this not in sharp contrast to the two angels, who answered Lot's urgent pleading, "No; we will spend the night in the town square"?

Lot's urgent pleading, however, wins the angelic messengers over. As we learn further on, God in His providence had sent them to keep Lot safe when the guilty cities were finally overthrown... Here was a man who tormented his righteous soul day after day over the lawless deeds of wicked men. He kept himself apart from the corruption around him, and could provide what suited his heavenly guests in every way. But he had no power to hold on to what pleased God, because of his unholy and defiling ties.

They would not enter Lot's house. You say, Why not? I think the reason is very simple. They did not think Lot's house had a good name. The way his household lived made the two messengers feel they would rather stay outside than go in. Christians, what a lesson for you and me. What is the atmosphere of your house and mine?

The Lord stayed to talk with Abraham, and only sent His angels to Sodom. Lot could barely persuade these angels to enter his house or accept his hospitality: they said, "No, we will stay in the street all night." What a rebuke! How different from Abraham's invitation, which they gladly accepted with the words, "Do as you have said."

The angels of the Lord would rather stay all night in the streets of guilty Sodom than go in to a child of His who was not walking in obedience. Their later agreement to go in does not weaken the point. Their answer teaches us something most solemn and practical. They do enter Lot's house, it is true; but if they do, it is only to undo the sad effects of Lot's sin.

Lot no doubt offered the angels hospitality partly because he knew all too well what kind of men the Sodomites were. Angels had no need of human protection, and they were very unwilling to accept what he offered. God's messengers had not come to be entertained in the doomed city. They came to carry out divine judgment. Their entry into his house, and their eating of his meal, showed God's mercy to him because Abraham had prayed, "Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked?"

The Lord no longer sees fit to accompany His messengers, nor visits Lot, as He visited Abraham. He would have been ashamed to be called the God of Lot. Lot "sat in the gate of Sodom," while his relative the pilgrim ran to meet them "from the tent door." Yet much was the same: no less courtesy, perhaps, but only a little hospitality.

Abraham's meal was simple, wholesome food, though he called it only "a morsel of bread." Lot clearly prepared city food, perhaps quite fancy, to make an impression.

Leaven stands for evil, so unleavened bread in Scripture teaches separation from evil. Was Lot telling his visitors that he believed in separation from evil? If so, his lifestyle did not back it up.

Their obedience to God's command was not, sadly, the fruit of a spirit of obedience. It came from necessity: they were forced out of Egypt… In the same way, when disaster and distress fall, men wake up to reality… There are times when even Lots become real. Yet this is only the fruit of circumstances. Nothing in it has to last, and it has no power to lift a man who is in fact so low.

Scripture urges hospitality, and it encourages its readers by pointing them back to their own past: by welcoming strangers, some have entertained angels without knowing it. Lot showed his readiness to entertain the two angels who appeared as men at the gate of Sodom. He urged them strongly to enter his house, and they accepted. He feasted them, and then learned that his visitors were angels. Under God, he owed them his rescue the next morning (Gen. 19). Neither Abraham nor Lot had cause to regret his hospitality.

But many men of Sodom, both young and old, rudely interrupted their visit. They boldly demanded that the two men who had come to Lot's home come out to them, to suffer the horror of homosexual relations (vv. 4-5).

The presence of the angels exposed the wickedness of Sodom at Lot's very door. It only magnified the guilt of "both old and young, all the people from every quarter." What could Lot say to lessen such unbridled lust?

Their visit brings out the open and unnatural depravity of the people of the city — "both old and young, all the people from every quarter" (v. 4). They pour out their shame without shame (v. 5).

It is beautiful to see that the Lord does not judge Sodom until it has become so bad that not even ten righteous people are left there. If there had been ten, God would have spared the cities. Abraham keeps interceding until this comes to light.

The first chapter of Romans puts this before us. There we find a list of crimes that shames us even to read, given not as some rare result of man's sin, but as the natural fruit of his departure from God. God gives them over to evil like the evil that brought judgment on Sodom and Gomorrah. He gives them over to evil so corrupt that no one can even speak of it. It is as though the Spirit of God set the root and the fruit side by side and said to men: cut loose from God, and you give free rein to every form of evil the flesh can produce.

The shameless proposal Lot made to his fellow citizens showed how powerless he was. The man who sat in Sodom's gate could not restrain their corrupt and lawless ways. If he had ever thought he could improve the people of Sodom by his influence and advice, this moment must have brought the truth home to his poor deceived heart. His life among them had been wasted, and all his efforts were useless.

Off the path of faith, he does not master his circumstances; they master him. The men of Sodom break in on him. His very effort to host the heavenly guests only stirs up the lusts of the flesh.

Lot holds an honoured place as a city official. But the city is doomed, and the time has come when it is ripe for judgment. From the Lord's own words in Luke 17, we know that this solemn scene foreshadows the judgment about to fall on this present evil world. There we read, "As it was in the days of Lot… so will it be on the day when the Son of Man is revealed."

But many men of Sodom, both young and old, rudely interrupted their visit. They boldly demanded that Lot bring out the two men who had come to his home, to subject them to the horror of homosexual relations.

The presence of the angels fully exposed the wickedness of Sodom at Lot's very door. It only increased the guilt of "both young and old, all the people to the last man." Lot might plead with the sinners to hold back from the gross evil planned in their wicked hearts... but he could not plead with the angels to spare the men of Sodom. Nothing but divine judgment could meet the evil.

The Lord said, "Because the outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is great and their sin is very grave, I will go down to see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me." Sadly, when the angels came into Lot's house, they found that Sodom's grievous sin matched the cry the Lord had heard in heaven.

Of course the Lord knew every detail of the evil in those cities. But He is always slow to judge until the wickedness proves beyond remedy.

There was also "abundance of idleness," which gave the men of Sodom plenty of time for their pleasures. When Adam was driven from Eden, he was to eat of the ground with sorrow all the days of his life. God added, "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread." ... With all their idleness, the men of Sodom had clearly managed to eat their bread without the sweat of Adam.

Lot's position as judge now counted for nothing. In fact they threw it back at him as though he had no right to the office at all. If he had flattered himself that he could exercise an influence for good, he was now undeceived.

Lot settled in Sodom with apparently some hope of improving it. He was a righteous man, but he "tormented his righteous soul from day to day by seeing and hearing their lawless deeds" (2 Peter 2:8). He was simply in the wrong place, and made himself incapable of warning the people of God's judgment against evil.

Jude says: "Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire." Here it is clear that this was a breaking out. It was not merely into sin, but into what was flagrant beyond measure — not evil alone, but contrary even to fallen nature.

The memory of the evil and its judgment has lasted. Our language still uses the word "sodomy" for sin of an especially vile and unnatural kind. This judgment, moreover, was a sample of what is yet to come on a much greater scale in "the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly" (2 Peter 3:7).

The city where Lot holds an honoured place as a magistrate is doomed to judgment. The time has come when it is ripe for judgment. From the Lord's own words in Luke 17 we know what this solemn scene means. It foreshadows the judgment about to fall on this present evil world. There we read, "As it was in the days of Lot... so will it be on the day when the Son of Man is revealed."

Lot's concern for his guests was commendable. He even went outside, closing the door after him, to plead for the two men who had come under the shelter of his roof (vv. 6-8). But his offer of his daughters was far from commendable. How could he offer them to men of such vile character? He had no right to offer them to anybody, and they were already engaged to be married. He says the men had come to his home for protection. Abraham's words in Genesis 18:5 were very different. Abraham knew his visitors had come to have their hearts comforted by his fellowship.

On the whole this is a sad scene. A believer in the world would have importance in it, and do good. He sits in the gate — the gate of Sodom! But Lot is not easy at being found there. He acts as though he were at ease, but he would keep the strangers from knowing what a place they had found him in. It is no use. He takes it on himself, uses atrocious means — for what could he do against them? Power delivers him, that is all.

Lot goes out to plead for his guests and to reason with his fellow-townsmen. Sadly, he calls them "brothers." He even offers them his two daughters (vv. 6-8). He has lost the simplicity of faith. In this scene of difficulty, danger and surrounding wickedness he no longer looks only to the Lord. Instead he uses worldly wisdom, choosing what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

We also see that Lot is a true believer. He recognises the heavenly visitors and treats them with due reverence. He seeks to honour them and to shelter them from the insults of the men of the world. Sadly, he only finds that he has no power to restrain their wickedness.

Bearing this in mind, our chapter is full of the most solemn warning for us all. He may have regarded his election as a judge as a step up; it was in truth a sad fall, bringing dreadful consequences. We saw him at first pitching his tent toward Sodom. Then he dwelt in it, and shared in its defeat, as recorded in Genesis 14. Now he has become a leader in it. And with what effect? Has he cleaned up its degraded morals? Has he improved its ethical standards? Not in the least! He has, as we shall see, only involved himself and his family in its evils.

Lot argues with them. He pleads with them. He is even ready to degrade his own children to cover and protect these strangers. In the end the riot gets so bad that they say to him, "Stand back!" Their anger is roused, and they cry, "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!" What moral power has he over them when their passions and lusts are roused? None. They tell him plainly, "Now we will deal worse with you than with them." They would have broken the door in. But at that moment the door opens, and the men pull Lot inside.

Verses 6, 7. What a picture of the falseness of his position. How strange that he could have settled there — and my brothers!

Lot's speech plainly shows how deeply he had become involved in the affairs of Sodom. He intended to stay only a little while. Instead he became a judge among them, and he looked on them as his brothers. Many a Christian has become thoroughly immersed in the world in the same way. He has touched the world in some small way, meaning to get away again. But he has gone further and further into its ties, until he found himself helpless, or unwilling, to break them.

Lot's concern for his guests was commendable. He even went outside, closing the door after him, to plead for the two men who had come under the shelter of his roof (verses 6-8). But his offer to sacrifice his daughters was far from commendable. He had no right to offer them to anybody. Children are not the property of their parents, and his daughters were already engaged to be married (verse 14).

Lot might plead with the sinners to hold back from the gross evil planned in their wicked hearts. He might propose a lesser evil, as he saw it, to spare the guests he had brought under the shelter of his house. But he could not plead with the angels to spare the men of Sodom. Nothing but divine judgment could meet the evil. Lot's shameless proposal to his fellow citizens showed how powerless he was. The man who sat in Sodom's gate could not restrain their corrupt and lawless ways. Perhaps he had once thought he could improve the people of Sodom by his influence and advice. If so, this moment must surely have shown his poor deluded heart that his life spent for them had been wasted.

Lot goes out to plead for his guests and to reason with his fellow townsmen. Sadly, he calls them "brothers." He also offers his two daughters (verses 6-8). For he has lost the simplicity of faith. In this scene of difficulty, danger and surrounding wickedness he does not look only to the Lord. Instead he chooses by worldly wisdom what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

If a man mixes with the world to get ahead, he must make up his mind to bear the sad consequences. We cannot profit from the world and testify effectively against its wickedness at the same time. "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!" This will never do. The true way to judge is to stand apart, in the moral power of grace, not in the superior spirit of the Pharisees.

Lot was sitting in the gate, the place of a judge. He was a believer making an effort to control the evil natures of ungodly men... the Christian is "not of this world." He has a message of grace with power to deliver people "from the present evil age" (Galatians 1:4)... Lot settled in Sodom with apparently some hope of improving it. He was a righteous man, but he "was tormenting his righteous soul over their lawless deeds that he saw and heard" (2 Peter 2:8). He was in the wrong place, and he made himself incapable of warning the people of God's judgment against evil.

Lot goes out to plead for his guests and to reason with his fellow-townsmen. Sadly, he calls them "brothers". He offers his two daughters (vv. 6-8). He has lost the simplicity of faith. This is a scene of difficulty, danger and surrounding wickedness. Instead of looking only to the Lord, he chooses by worldly wisdom what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

Lot's concern for his guests was commendable. He even went outside, closing the door behind him, to plead for the two men who had come under the shelter of his roof (vv. 6-8). But his offer to sacrifice his daughters was far from commendable. How could he offer his virgin daughters to men of such vile character? In fact, he had no right to offer them to anybody. Children are not the property of their parents. Besides, his daughters were already engaged to be married (v. 14). As for the two men, Lot says they had come to his home for protection. How different were Abraham's words in Gen. 18:5! Abraham realized that his visitors had come to have their hearts comforted by his fellowship. We may be sure that the two angels would not have allowed Lot to give his daughters to the men of the city.

Lot tried to calm them by sacrificing his two unmarried daughters. That shows how low he had sunk in his own mind through Sodom's contamination. His position as judge now counted for nothing. They threw it back at him as though he had seized the office with no right. If he had flattered himself that he could have a good influence, he was now undeceived.

He was troubling his righteous soul over their unlawful deeds. Yet the men of the city have a right to say to him, "What business have you here?" They said, "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!" (v. 9). You are quarrelling with sin in the place of sin. They have a perfect right to judge like that. Association with the world destroys all power of testimony. He ought to be witnessing to his total separation from the world. There is vexation of spirit, but no power.

When Lot "sat in the gate of Sodom" (v. 1), he was acting as a magistrate. Being a righteous man, he must have longed to help improve its terrible state of unrighteousness and immorality. He achieved nothing. He only wrecked his own power to witness against it, and destroyed his family. "He seemed to his sons-in-law to be jesting" (v. 14). He himself barely escaped at the last moment, with no power to deliver others. He even lost his own wife. The angels did rescue his two unmarried daughters, but they soon drew their father, who had drifted away from God, into drunkenness and immorality — the very sins of Sodom itself.

We cannot see any redeeming feature in the sad history. Yet the Holy Spirit is quick to discern anything of Christ in any one of us. He says that God "rescued righteous Lot, greatly distressed by the sensual conduct of the wicked (for as that righteous man lived among them day after day, he was tormenting his righteous soul over their lawless deeds)." How refreshing that verse is! It is like an oasis in the desert, a silver lining on a gloomy cloud.

"The Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials," and He delivers "righteous Lot." But while he was tormenting his righteous soul over their lawless deeds, the men of the city have a right to say to him, "What business have you here? This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge" (v. 9). You are quarrelling with sin in the place of sin. Association with the world destroys all power of testimony, when he ought to be witnessing to his total separation from it. There is vexation of spirit, but not power.

And how very solemn to hear one who had been a companion of the man of faith speak to these debased Sodomites and call them "Brothers," only for them to revile, rebuke and threaten him. This was the world's reward to the righteous man who had given his life in service for them. Lot's address shows how far he had gone into the affairs of Sodom: his intention was to sojourn, to stay for a little while, but he became a judge among them and looked on them as his brothers.

Lot tried to calm the mob by offering them his two unmarried daughters. That shows how low he had sunk in his own mind through Sodom's corruption. Lot's position as judge now counted for nothing; in fact they flung it back at him as though he had been a mere usurper of the office.

Step by step Lot drew nearer to guilty Sodom. How often he flattered and excused himself that his was the wise and right course, unlike his exclusive uncle Abraham! What is the use, what the duty, of a good man in the world, if not to improve it? ... Lot had no such clearness of vision. He had more confidence in human nature, more assurance of the moral influence of a good man like himself. He hears too late the rebuke of his folly from the lips of the most unclean Sodom: "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge."

He had judged them often. Day by day their abandoned way of life tormented his righteous soul, and his presence among them had no doubt curbed their lawless ways to some degree. But their resentment at his interference now comes out in their threat: "Now we will deal worse with you than with them." It was no idle threat, for "they pressed hard against the man Lot, and drew near to break the door down." If the angels had not stepped in, they would have carried out their wicked threat.

If a man mingles with the world to get ahead, he must make up his mind to endure the sad consequences. "This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge." This will never do. The true way to judge is to stand apart, in the moral power of grace, not in the superior spirit of self-righteousness.

He confesses before the sons of Heth, "I am a sojourner and foreigner among you." As such he gains the respect of the world, for they say, "You are a prince of God among us." How striking the contrast to poor Lot — the believer who gave up his pilgrim character to dwell in Sodom. The world treats such a man with well-deserved contempt. In the day of his trouble they say, "Stand back… this fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge."

Lot is a true believer. He recognises the heavenly visitors and treats them with reverence. He seeks to honour them and to shelter them from the insults of the men of the world. Sadly, he only finds that he has no power to restrain their wickedness. In his desperation he is even ready to stoop to the shameful step of handing his two daughters over to the mob's lust, to quiet the uproar. His efforts only make the men of Sodom angrier. They tell him to "stand back." They argue that this man, who came among them as an outsider, now takes it on himself to act as their judge. With these threatening words they press hard on Lot. Only the angels' action saves him from the violence of the mob.