The Salty Side of Mercy: Judgment at Sunrise Text: Genesis 19:23-26
Introduction: The Terrible Goodness of God
We live in a sentimental age, an age that has tried to domesticate God. We want a God who is a celestial grandfather, endlessly indulgent, who pats us on the head regardless of our behavior. We have exchanged the consuming fire of Sinai for a decorative fireplace that offers no heat and poses no danger. We want a God of mercy, but we define that mercy as a bland, universal tolerance. We want a God of love, but it is a love with no sharp edges, no wrath, no judgment. In short, we want a God who is not the God of the Bible.
The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is a severe mercy to us because it shatters that idol. It forces us to confront the reality of a God who is both perfectly good and perfectly just. His goodness is not a flaccid sentimentality; it is a holy, righteous goodness that cannot and will not abide evil forever. His love is not apathetic; it is a fierce, covenantal love that will go to extraordinary lengths to rescue His own, but will also execute terrifying judgment upon those who trample His grace underfoot.
This passage is not some embarrassing Old Testament episode that we are to quietly shuffle past on our way to the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus and the apostles refer to this very event as a paradigm, a template for the final judgment to come. Peter says God made these cities an "example to those who would live ungodly lives thereafter" (2 Peter 2:6). Jesus Himself says it will be more tolerable for Sodom on the day of judgment than for the cities that rejected His gospel (Matt. 10:15). This is not a relic of a primitive past; it is a flashing warning sign on the road to the future.
We must therefore come to this text with fear and trembling, but also with profound gratitude. It teaches us about the nature of sin, the cost of worldliness, the necessity of a clean break, and the terrible reality of God's wrath. It shows us that God's salvation is a rescue, a deliverance from something. And what He rescues us from is not a minor inconvenience. It is a rain of fire.
The Text
The sun had risen over the earth when Lot came to Zoar.
And Yahweh rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from Yahweh out of heaven,
and He overthrew those cities, and all the valley, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground.
Then his wife, from behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.
(Genesis 19:23-26 LSB)
Sovereign Timing and Catastrophic Judgment (vv. 23-25)
We begin with the stark contrast between salvation and judgment, timed to the rising of the sun.
"The sun had risen over the earth when Lot came to Zoar. And Yahweh rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from Yahweh out of heaven..." (Genesis 19:23-24)
Notice the timing. The judgment does not fall under the cover of darkness. It falls in broad daylight. The sun is up. This is not a shadowy, hidden affair. God's judgments are public and clear. This is a bright, beautiful morning, the kind of morning Sodom had seen a thousand times before. The inhabitants were likely rising, going about their business, planning their day of commerce and debauchery, entirely oblivious. Judgment often arrives on a perfectly ordinary day. As Jesus said, "they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark" (Matt. 24:38). The normalcy of the morning is what makes the judgment so terrifying.
But there is grace here as well. The angel had told Lot, "I cannot do anything until you reach it" (v. 22). The fires of judgment were held back by a leash of divine mercy until God's wavering, compromised saint was safely tucked away in the little city of Zoar. God will not destroy the righteous with the wicked. He is a precise and just judge. The sun rises on Lot's salvation before it presides over Sodom's destruction.
And then the judgment falls. "Yahweh rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from Yahweh out of heaven." The language here is emphatic and personal. It is Yahweh on earth (the pre-incarnate Christ, the Angel of the Lord who had spoken with Abraham) calling down fire from Yahweh in heaven. This is an intra-trinitarian act of judgment. This is not a natural disaster, a random meteor shower or a volcanic eruption. This is a personal, targeted, divine act of war against a culture that had declared war on Him. The fire and brimstone, or sulfur, speak of a complete and utter consumption. It is a picture of Hell itself, the "lake of fire burning with brimstone" (Rev. 19:20).
Verse 25 describes the totality of the destruction:
"...and He overthrew those cities, and all the valley, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground." (Genesis 19:25)
The word "overthrew" is the same word used for a potter smashing a flawed vessel. This was a complete un-creation. God had made this valley a lush, well-watered paradise, "like the garden of the LORD" (Gen. 13:10). It was this very beauty that had attracted Lot in the first place. But sin pollutes everything it touches. It had so corrupted the place that God decided to wipe the slate clean. He destroyed the cities, the entire plain, every single inhabitant, and even the vegetation. The very ground was cursed. This is what sin does. It doesn't just corrupt souls; it corrupts cultures, institutions, and the very land itself. And when the corruption reaches a certain point, the only remedy is judgment.
The Lingering Look and the Lasting Monument (v. 26)
In the midst of this cataclysm, we have one of the most haunting verses in all of Scripture.
"Then his wife, from behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt." (Genesis 19:26)
This is a devastatingly simple sentence, and it is packed with theological weight. The angels' command had been explicit: "Flee for your lives! Don't look back, and don't stop anywhere in the plain!" (v. 17). This was not an arbitrary rule. It was a command to make a clean break. It was a test of faith and allegiance. To look back was to reveal where your heart truly was.
Why did she look back? The text doesn't say, but we can infer. She looked back with longing. Her life was there. Her friends, her possessions, her social standing, her comforts. She had been physically removed from Sodom, but Sodom had not been removed from her heart. She was fleeing for her life, but she was looking over her shoulder at what she was losing, not ahead to what God was giving. Her body was on the road to Zoar, but her soul was still sitting in her living room in Sodom. This was an act of rebellion, of unbelief, and of deep-seated affection for a world under God's judgment. She loved the world, and the love of the Father was not in her.
And the judgment was instantaneous and fitting. "She became a pillar of salt." Salt in the ancient world had a dual meaning. It was a preservative, used in covenants (the "covenant of salt," Num. 18:19). But it was also a symbol of barrenness and judgment. A conquered city would be sown with salt to render it sterile forever (Judges 9:45). The land around the Dead Sea, where this judgment occurred, is a salty, barren wasteland to this day. Lot's wife became a monument of what she loved. She wanted the world that God was turning into a barren salt flat, so God turned her into a barren pillar of salt. She is a permanent warning against the divided heart.
Jesus gives us the definitive commentary on this verse. In the midst of warning His disciples about the coming judgment, He gives this stark, three-word command: "Remember Lot's wife" (Luke 17:32). Remember her. Remember that it is possible to be associated with the people of God, to be married to a righteous man, to be under the sound of angelic warning, to be physically on the road to salvation, and yet to perish because your heart is still in love with the world. Remember that you cannot be saved while looking wistfully back at the city of destruction. Salvation requires a forward gaze.
Conclusion: Fleeing without a Backward Glance
This story presents us with a stark choice, the same choice that stands before every human being. We are all in Sodom, a world system that is under the righteous judgment of God. The call of the gospel is the same as the call of the angels to Lot: Flee. Flee from the wrath to come. Flee to the refuge provided, which is not a little town named Zoar, but the person of Jesus Christ.
And the command is the same: Don't look back. You cannot carry your old life with you. You cannot cling to your cherished sins, your worldly ambitions, your love for the approval of a culture that hates God. Jesus said it plainly: "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62).
The temptation for Lot's wife is a perennial temptation for every Christian. We are called out of the world, but the world still calls to us. We can be tempted to look back with longing at the easy camaraderie of sin, the fleeting pleasures, the apparent security. But we must remember what that city is. It is a city on fire. It is under the curse of God. To look back with longing is to reveal that we do not truly believe the judgment is real or that the refuge is better.
Lot's wife stands as a monument of salt, a perpetual warning against the danger of a half-hearted escape. She teaches us that salvation is not merely a geographical relocation but a spiritual reorientation. It is a turning from sin and a turning to Christ. Both motions are necessary. Her tragedy was that she only did the first, and she did it with a heart full of regret.
Let us therefore take the warning to heart. Let us flee to Christ, and as we run, let us fix our eyes on Him, the author and perfecter of our faith. Let us not be among those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls (Heb. 10:39). Let us remember Lot's wife, and in remembering, run faster, with more determination, and without a single backward glance.