Sermon Tone Analysis

In an ill-advised move, Abram took his family and all those with him to Egypt in the face of a severe famine.

He does some really foolish stuff—namely handing his wife over to Pharaoh to save his own skin, and trusting himself without seeking the LORD.

Abram actually profits from being in Egypt; he becomes quite wealthy.

He’s very well off, just lousy with livestock.

In Egypt, the LORD comes to Abram’s rescue, inflicting Pharaoh and his household with serious diseases / plagues.

And so we read at the start of Genesis 13 that Abram and his wife and everything he had, and his nephew Lot, ventured out of Egypt, north through the Negev (the southern part of the land of Canaan) to the towns of Bethel and Ai.

So, back from Egypt, we catch up with Abram and Lot and all their livestock living in Canaan.

Both Abram and his nephew Lot are just loaded with livestock.

This sounds like a good problem to have, until you’re trying to figure out how to feed and water all that livestock.

Look with me.

That’s a pretty nice problem to have—their possessions were so great that they were not able to stay together.

It’s like me having too much cash for my wallet to hold; granted, it’s all $1 bills and Monopoly money, but it’s a nice feeling.

A nice problem.

For Lot and Abram, it’s a real problem.

Too many animals, not enough land.

Quarreling arose, naturally.

We should really almost expect quarreling.

Throw more than a few people in close proximity to one another and you have the recipe for quarreling, even if the LORD has just rescued you and brought you out of Egypt (seems to be a pattern in the Bible; but that’s a sermon for another time).

Abram, seemingly having learned something during his misadventure in Egypt, proposes this selfless, gracious solution:

When I read this last week, I was immediately taken back to my childhood.

I didn’t have any livestock, but I was being taught to be kind and gracious and fair even when I didn’t feel like it.

I have one sister, Bethany, who is 2 years and 5 days older than me.

It’s just the two of us.

Bethany was a pretty good big sister, I guess.

I, of course, was the perfect little brother.

We didn’t have a lot of sweets in our house.

Mom was very committed to a strict Weight Watchers diet which meant we were all commited to a strict Weight Watchers diet.

On the occasion there was something sweet in the house (cookies or cake or even candy bars) my stinking sister and I would have to split that cookie or that piece of cake or that candy bar.

Mom and Dad devised a genius plan to teach us kindness and equity (they probably also enjoyed watching us reluctantly share).

One of us got to cut the dessert in half and the other got to pick which piece they wanted.

As much as I wanted to take most of whatever it was for myself, if I was the one cutting, I made sure that sucker was cut in half precisely, I mean, down to the millimeter.

I wanted to make sure Bethany didn’t get any more than I had; and if possible, I would prefer for her to get a little less than me.

Logically, pragmatically, it would have made the most sense, from a business and financial standpoint, for Abram to divide the land precisely, down to the cubit.

Measure carefully, stake it out, give Lot exactly half of what there was.

But Abram doesn’t do that.

He’s not concerned about what’s fair.

Abram is generous and gracious—unbelievably so.

He let’s Lot choose:

This is where we start to see the difference between Abram and Lot.

Some Walk By Sight,

In this place—Canaan and the surrounding areas—Lot is at home.

He’s comfortable, deciding which place is best for him.

He’s got his eyes set on what he can see.

And you can’t blame the guy.

He has a ton of animals to take care of so he’s going to look around and find the best place for them.

The Jordan Valley—the area on either side of the Jordan River was well-watered—the perfect place to graze animals.

Notice the phrase at the start of verse 10: Lot looked around…

Literally, this says Lot lifted up his eyes.

Lot’s looking around, but he’s only looking at what’s right in front of him.

Lot, like many of us, is shortsighted.

And no, I’m not talking about your glasses prescription.

Lot might have been nearsighted or farsighted, I have no idea.

But it’s clear to me that Lot is extremely shortsighted.

Lot lifted up his eyes but he only sees what’s right in front of him.

This is the problem; he didn’t really see.

He saw the advantages, but none of the dangers.

He saw the perks, but not the perils.

Lot seems to have his eyes fixed on the present, and primarily economic issues.

He’s drawn to the place.

It looks good to him.

It looks like the garden of the LORD and reminds him of where he had just travelled: well-watered…like the land of Egypt.

We’re drawn to what’s pleasing to the eye, aren’t we?

The fruit of the tree they weren’t supposed to eat from looked awful good to Eve and to Adam.

Gen 3:6 “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it.

She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.”

Lot, here, sees and observes how well-watered was the plain of Jordan, and accordingly chose this territory.

Shortsightedness is a major problem.

Poor Patience has cracked her head on the lift-gate of our SUV more than once because she’s not looking into the distance at all.

She hops out of the car, shuts her door, rounds the back of the car and bingo-bango, right into the lift-gate as it’s opening.

I’ve taken to telling her, “Be careful.

I’m opening the back.”

Shortsightedness can hurt.

Here’s another instance: [PLAY VIDEO]

Shortsightedness is a serious issue; you might end up snuggling with a raccoon.

Spiritual shortsightedness is life and death.

When our eyes are drawn to what’s right before us, we miss the dangers and pitfalls that lie ahead.

We choose what looks good to us, when what looks good to us can kill us.

We see something we like, we follow our hearts, we do what we think will make us happy, we listen to the serpent and take and eat, and in the process, lose our souls.

As we read this text, the author puts a parenthetical note at the end of verse 10 that makes us cringe: (This was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.)

Where Lot decided to move himself and his animals is right in the vicinity of Sodom and Gomorrah.

You likely already know the story.

When we get to Genesis 19, the wicked sinfulness of Sodom and Gomorrah has a devastating effect upon Lot and his family.

And most of that arises from Genesis 13—what Lot in his shortsightedness didn’t see.

Lot saw security from famine.

Lot saw some extra comforts for his family.

But Lot didn’t see or sense the possibility of any hidden dangers.

And what we don’t see can be lethal.

Some People Walk By Sight, Trusting Only Themselves

How else are we supposed to walk than by sight?

Well, I’ll tell you: there’s a better way.

Lot is doing what he thinks is best, trusting his gut, looking at what’s right in front of him, planning for his future as best he can with his limited sight.

Like many of us, Lot was probably so sure of himself.

It seems like the wise move—a good, common sense move.

He’s leaning on his own understanding.

This is precisely what God’s Word tells us NOT to do:

Dale Ralph Davis points out that this “doesn’t say we shouldn’t use our understanding, but that we shouldn’t lean on it.

Sometimes we lean on our understanding and use the LORD.”

“Lots’s assessment of things here seemed to be superficial.

And so the story pushes us to plead with God for he discernment we need, not to be content with obvious appearances or merely economic factors.”

The danger for us at any age is to trust ourselves and our understanding implicitly.