The Smoke of a Settled Question Text: Genesis 19:27-28
Introduction: The Morning After
We live in an age that despises consequences. Our entire culture is a frantic, headlong flight from the law of the harvest, from the simple truth that whatsoever a man sows, that shall he also reap. We want our sin, but we do not want the bill that comes due. We want to live like Sodom in the evening, and then wake up in a world where it is forever morning in America, with no hangover. But God is not mocked. His judgments are not arbitrary fits of pique; they are the inevitable, righteous, and sometimes terrible harvest of a course of rebellion that has been freely chosen.
The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is not some embarrassing, primitive tale that modern, sophisticated Christians need to airbrush out of the family album. It is a permanent, granite-hard monument to the reality of divine judgment. It is set forth for an example, Jude tells us, of suffering the vengeance of eternal fire. And in our passage today, we are taken to a vantage point, the morning after, to look upon the results. We are standing with Abraham, the friend of God, the great intercessor, and we are looking down at the valley. The debate is over. The negotiations are concluded. The time for mercy has passed. All that is left is the smoke.
What Abraham sees is not just a tragedy. It is a theological statement. It is a revelation of the character of God. It is a picture of what happens when a culture becomes so saturated with pride, so given over to every kind of abomination, so haughty in its rebellion, that the only possible response from a holy God is to remove it. This is not a story about God losing His temper. It is a story about God cleansing His world. And it is a story that has profound implications for us, because the sins of Sodom are not ancient history. They are headline news.
The Text
Now Abraham arose early in the morning and went to the place where he had stood before Yahweh; and he looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the valley, and he saw, and behold, the smoke of the land went up like the smoke of a furnace.
(Genesis 19:27-28 LSB)
The Intercessor's Vigil (v. 27)
We begin with Abraham's deliberate return to a very specific place.
"Now Abraham arose early in the morning and went to the place where he had stood before Yahweh;" (Genesis 19:27)
Abraham's actions here are freighted with meaning. He gets up early. This is not a casual stroll. There is an urgency, a solemn purpose to his movement. He is not just going for a walk to see what happened; he is keeping a divine appointment. Where does he go? He goes "to the place where he had stood before Yahweh." This is the very spot where he had interceded, where he had wrestled in prayer, where he had bargained with God for the life of the city. This was the place of communion, of friendship, of bold petition.
He is returning to the scene of the negotiation. Why? He is going to see God's answer. Prayer is a two way conversation, and part of that conversation is looking for the answer. Abraham had made his plea, and now he goes to see the verdict rendered. This is an act of faith. He is not hiding from the result, whatever it might be. He is facing it, because he knows the judge of all the earth will do right. His intercession was not a failure. He had asked God to spare the city for the sake of ten righteous men, and God had agreed. The fact that the city was not spared was not a failure of God's mercy, but a revelation of Sodom's utter destitution of righteousness. There were not ten. There was not even one, apart from Lot's family, who had to be dragged out by the angels.
Abraham stands here as the federal head of God's people. He is the friend of God, standing on the high ground of covenant faithfulness, looking down into the valley of covenant rebellion. This is the great antithesis, the fundamental division of all humanity. There are those who stand before the Lord on the mountain, and there are those who live for themselves in the valley. Abraham's position is a picture of the church. We are called to be a people of intercession, pleading with God for our land. But we are also called to be a people who trust His judgments when they come. We are to stand with God, on His side of the argument, even as we plead for mercy on behalf of those who stand against Him.
The Sobering Vista (v. 28)
From this place of covenant communion, Abraham looks down and sees the aftermath of divine wrath.
"and he looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the valley, and he saw, and behold, the smoke of the land went up like the smoke of a furnace." (Genesis 19:28)
The language here is stark and observational. "He looked... and he saw." There is no editorializing, no expression of Abraham's emotional state. The fact itself is the sermon. The sight itself is the commentary. And what does he see? He sees the entire valley, the whole "land of the valley," smoking. This was a total, catastrophic judgment. It wasn't a localized fire. The very land itself was burning.
The key phrase is the simile: "like the smoke of a furnace." A furnace is a place of intense, controlled, and purposeful heat. It is used for refining metals or for firing pottery. This was not a wildfire. This was not a random act of nature. This was a controlled burn. It was a refiner's fire, but in this case, the dross was so pervasive that the entire substance was consumed. The imagery is one of industrial-strength, methodical destruction. God's wrath is not a chaotic, emotional outburst. It is the deliberate, calculated, and righteous outworking of His holy character against unrepentant sin.
This smoke is the visible evidence that God keeps His word. He had warned of judgment, and here is the proof. The smoke is the receipt of Sodom's payment for its sin. It is a testimony rising up to heaven, a settled answer to the question of what happens when a society gives itself over to pride, luxury, idleness, and haughty abomination. The smoke says, "God is holy." The smoke says, "Sin has consequences." The smoke says, "The wages of sin is death."
And we must not miss the polemical nature of this. The sins of the valley were, at their root, idolatry. They were worshipping the creature rather than the Creator. They were worshipping their own appetites, their own power, their own perversions. And so God turns their paradise into an inferno. The valley which was "well-watered everywhere... like the garden of Yahweh" (Genesis 13:10) is now a smoking ruin. God shows that He is Lord over the very elements that men trust in. He who gives the rain and the fruitful seasons can also give fire and brimstone. He is not a tame God.
Conclusion: The View from the Mountain
Abraham's vantage point is crucial. He is not in the smoke. He is on the mountain with God, looking at the smoke from a position of safety, a position of covenant security. This is a profound picture of our position in Christ.
The world is filled with the smoke of judgment. We see it in the decay of our institutions, the breakdown of our families, the celebration of perversions that would have made Sodom blush. We see the consequences of our rebellion against God's created order everywhere. The land is smoking. And it is easy to be discouraged, to be fearful, to think that the smoke is going to overwhelm us.
But the Christian is not called to live in the valley of smoke. We are called to stand on the mountain with Christ. Through faith in Him, we have been brought to "the place where he stood before Yahweh." We stand in the high country of grace. And from that vantage point, we can see the judgments of God not as a terror, but as a confirmation of His righteousness. We can see them as the necessary prelude to the coming of His kingdom.
The smoke of Sodom is a precursor to another, greater smoke. The book of Revelation tells us of the fall of Babylon the Great, a global system of rebellion against God. And when she is judged, the cry goes up, "Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God; because His judgments are true and righteous... And a second time they said, 'Hallelujah! Her smoke rises up forever and ever'" (Revelation 19:1-3).
The smoke of judgment on God's enemies is the occasion for the worship of God's people. Abraham stood and watched, sobered, but secure in his covenant with a God who does all things well. He saw the end of one story of rebellion. We, in Christ, stand at a better vantage point. We have seen the cross, where the furnace of God's wrath was poured out on His own Son, that we might be spared. Jesus took the full heat of the furnace for us. He absorbed the judgment so that we could be brought to the mountain of fellowship.
Therefore, when we look out at a world that is burning with the consequences of its own sin, we do not despair. We intercede, as Abraham did. We preach the gospel, offering escape from the coming wrath. And we stand firm in the faith, knowing that the Judge of all the earth will do right. The smoke we see is a sign that our God reigns, and that His kingdom is coming. And one day, that smoke will clear, and the whole earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.