Becoming Our Idols

It was review time before proceeding with the morning's lesson.  This was my favorite part of teaching four and five year old Sunday School--seeing what was sticking in their young minds and what was still out of their grasp.  Two months later, I was still getting "Ahaz" or "Ahab" as an answer for "the prophet whose name starts with an A" question.  Apparently, those two kings' evil nature (and buzzing zzzzzz sound at the end of one of their names) made them much more memorable than Amos' uneventful watching after mindless sheep.
After quickly reviewing the past few months' progression through the Old Testament wherein Israel fell away from God who then sent prophet after prophet to warn them to repent and return to Him, I asked my group of ten what I thought was a simple question.  

"What is an idol?"

My youngest son blurted out an answer without raising his hand.  "A rock."

My mouth opened to speak before shutting again.  It wasn't the answer I expected.  My co-teacher and I looked at each other, grinned and shrugged our shoulders with a "yeah....that's right.  But...." We then proceeded to explain again how anything could be an idol.

Still, I couldn't fault my son.  Even Google seems to agree.  Plus, I, too, had grown up believing that idols were fashioned with one's hands, such as a metal statue of Budda or an Egyptian goddess carved of stone.  Even as an adult, I still have to fight against such a definition of the word idol as it is easier to pin down than the truth that anything and everything can become an idol if it takes the place of God in my life.

The "anything-ness" of the definition is too nebulous for the black-and-white mind of a four year old to grasp. And in all honesty, it's that vagueness that still bothers this grown up who would just prefer a simple definition that she could easily follow or not follow, but at least she would be certain of which was which.

The Psalmist writes, 

"The idols of the nations are silver and gold,
The work of men’s hands.
They have mouths, but they do not speak;
Eyes they have, but they do not see;
They have ears, but they do not hear;
Nor is there any breath in their mouths.
Those who make them are like them;So is everyone who trusts in them." (Ps. 135: 15-18).

While the Psalmist does speak of idols made of silver and gold, the broader definition of idolatry as anything that is placed before God--has the same conclusion--"Those who make them are like them." 

In the above passage, we can glean two truths about idols: (1) we craft idols in our lives and (2) we become like our idol.  

First, you and I may not bow before idols of silver or gold, but for every idol we do metaphorically bow to each day, it is crafted by us.  That's the reason something like "exercise" or "eating healthily" or even "sports" can become an idol to some yet not to others--we individually craft that idol in our own lives.  Pride?  Self-centeredness? A love of material things?  Whatever is our idol, we develop it as the ultimate end and choose to serve it, putting it first before God.

Secondly, and more frightening, is the knowledge that whatever our idol is, we become like as well.

In short, we become like what we worship. If I idolize my reputation above all else, could that keep me from ministering to someone God puts in my path?  If I worship the pursuit of the American Dream, could that leave me for not enough time for other ministry opportunities God would have me be apart of?

The Psalmist is clear--if I worship and idolize anything other than God, then that is what I will become like.  Instead of becoming a living reflection of Jesus, we will reflect something else--our idol--to the world around us.

Paul reminds us of what we will be if our focus is on Christ alone: "And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Cor. 3:18). 

When we rid our lives of idols, and when our worship is of God alone, we will become like Him.  Anything else, and we're transforming into something unGodly.

This week when you think of idols, remember these two things: To idolize something is to worship it.  To worship it is to become it.

The Names We Call Ourselves

It was just another day with another child thinking he could lawyer me into changing my mind about some minor decision I don't even remember.  As usual, I had tried the appeal to reason, and just as equally typical, my words were all to no avail. 

In the end, I resorted to that oft used and always hated phrase by both kids and parents: "Because I'm your mother, and God gave you to me to raise.  That's why.  End of discussion."

And there it was--mother, a title I only use for myself when communicating firmness and authority.  It is a title that means no argument, so move along. 

When my children are hurt, I am "mommy."  When I've done something really amazing like transform a closet into a cave for indoor camping, I'm "mom."  But when it's serious time, I'm always "mother."

These self-presented names and titles also differ in my interactions with others beyond my own family.  To someone in a professional setting, I sell myself as "Jennifer Dorhauer" with a handshake.  To my friends, I am just Jennifer.  To the hay customers, I am "Mary and Doug's daughter-in law."  To anyone at my parents' church, I am "John and Karen's daughter."  To my online students, I am "Mrs. Dorhauer."  To my four year olds in Sunday School, I'm "Ms. Jennifer."

In other words, my name changes depending on how I'm trying to present myself to a particular audience.  Interestingly enough, in Scripture, God does the same thing, presenting Himself in different ways throughout different books of the Bible. 

In the book of Isaiah, God presents Himself by one name twenty-seven times--"the Holy One of Israel."  While He most certainly uses this phrase elsewhere in Scripture, He doesn't do so with such great regularity as He does here.

And just like me when I'm referring to myself by different titles, God, too, intends to communicate something through His name choice.  To understand this choice, we first need to understand His audience.  The book of Isaiah is written to His people, Israel, a message to His children who have not heeded His word.  In verse two, He says of the children of Israel that they are "Sons I have reared and brought up, But they have revolted against Me" (Is. 1:2).

Last week's article explored how the Israelites denied both God's authority over them and His providing for them. God further describes how sinful His people have become, saying they are "People weighed down with iniquity, Offspring of evildoers, Sons who act corruptly!  They have abandoned the LORD, They have despised the Holy One of Israel, They have turned away from Him" (Is. 1:4).

Here, God refers to Himself  as "the Holy One of Israel," the first of twenty-seven times in this book.

The first half of the title--"the Holy One"--is seeking to highlight just how unholy and detestable Israel is in God's sight.  God is choosing this name to hold up their sin next to His holy light, an action that makes their sin appear as dark as it truly is.

In the above passage, God uses the inflammatory words like iniquity, evildoers, corruptly, and despised to describe Israel's sin; notice He doesn't use words like mistake or indiscretion or even life choice.  Instead, His word choice highlights the true nature of sin.

Consider how different this is compared to how we treat sin.  When it is our sin, we try to excuse it away as "not that bad."  Before we know it, our sin is no longer black but merely dark grey.  And if we hold up our sin beside someone else's sin, we might even decide ours is really only off-white or beige.  But in truth, our attempts to rationalize the blackness of our sin away into fifty shades of grey is a lie we tell ourselves. 

All we have to do is hold up the paint chip with our sin on it next to the one depicting God's Holiness, and the black becomes its blackest.

In this way, God continuously gets in the reader's face with just how holy, Holy, HOLY He is until our sin appears as dark as it actually is to God, until we perceive just how abhorrent our sin is to this Holy, pure, spotless God we serve.

A few verses later, God expounds upon the details of Israel's sin: "How the faithful city has become a harlot, She who was full of justice...But now murderers....Your rulers are rebels And companions of thieves; Everyone loves a bribe And chases after rewards. They do not defend the orphan, Nor does the widow's plea come before them" (Is. 1:21-23).

Consider these details in relation to the second half of God's title "of Israel."  Using this reference, God is reminding the children of Israel that they still belong to Him.  Although those in the "faithful city" of Jerusalem mentioned above have now become a "harlot" serving all nature of false gods, God is still the God of Israel.

Even though they have "revolted" against God and refused to acknowledge Him as their provider in verse 2, He is still their God.  Even though He must turn His back on them as He doles out judgment as only a Holy God must do, He is still their God.

It is as if He is begging them to return, reminding them that no matter how dark their sin is before Him, He is still their God who will forgive any who repent and return to Him.

Such is a good lesson for us all to remember. 

Our sin is dark as the darkest night to God.  It is detestable and abhorrent in His sight.  BUT, for those who are His children, He will always be their God, waiting with open arms for them to turn away from the darkness of their sin in repentance and claim the inheritance waiting for them as Sons of the Holy One of Israel.

Are You Smarter than a Donkey?

No, I wasn't buying the stuffed bird for her with my money, no matter how cute, how fluffy, and how female it was.  And no, she didn't have any money left, so this wasn't up for discussion.  Period.

My five year old daughter's face screwed up in a serious pout when I pulled from her grasp the disputed red sphere (complete with yellow bow and dark black eyelashes) and stuffed it back on the shelf.  As if on cue, out popped the lower lip, down, down, DOWN went the corners of her mouth, and those large brown eyes glistened with confirmation of how upset she was.

Unlike the boys who continued to be indecisive in their spending of what monies they earned from the selling of a few unused toys before Christmas, my daughter had already spent every last cent of her earnings, all within two weeks' time.  Granted, what she wanted cost more (a "pony house" for her Oma & Opa-gifted American Girl doll and horse), but still, she was flat broke and finding it was hard to watch her brothers shop without being able to buy anything, herself.

This mother, though, wasn't having having it.  Fresh off an extraordinarily blessed Christmas full of much more than my daughter either needed or deserved, I demanded she tuck that lip back in and better not cry.   Right in the middle of Walgreens, I explained how her attitude showed how ungrateful her heart was.

Ingratitude.  It's one of the things that grates most on this parent's nerves.  Perhaps that's because it is something I find myself fighting against with ever fiber of my being.  In our "more, more" culture, I strive to be content with what is and not what could be.

What's more, I have learned how offensive ingratitude is to the Lord.

The Lord says of Israel: "Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me. The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master's crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand....They have forsaken the Lord, they have despised the Holy One of Israel, they are utterly estranged" (Is. 1:2-3, 4b).

The ox and the donkey are not the smartest of animals.  In fact, they're just plain dumb.

As Matthew Henry says, they are "not only brute creatures, but of the dullest sort; yet the ox has such a sense of duty as to know his owner and to serve him, to submit to his yoke and to draw in it; the ass has such a sense of interest as to know has master’s crib, or manger, where he is fed, and to abide by it; he will go to that of himself if he be turned loose."*

In short, these two dumb creatures know (1) how to submit to their Creator and (2) Who provides for them.

Yet, in the above verses, the nation of Israel is condemned because of its failure to do what comes naturally to God's most base creatures--(1) submit to God as Master of them as their Creator and (2) give thanks to God for His constant provisions.

Insubordination and Ingratitude. 

We don't like to take on any yoke, even if God says, "For My yoke is easy and My burden is light" (Matt. 11:30).  We want to live like children in a fantasy world of freedom where we're not subordinate to anyone, where we are always free to do as we wish, not owing anyone for anything because everything we have is ours from our own labors.

Such fantasies are just that--make-believe fairy tales.  No matter how we try to deny it, we are forever indebted to God as our Creator.  If we choose to not serve Him, that just means we're serving someone/something else.  Total freedom is simply not an option.  And no matter how much we must labor for our provisions, He is still the ultimate provider of all.

Submission, gratitude, and thankfulness don't come naturally; they must be an intentional daily pursuit.  Yet, as with most habits, the more we practice, the more second nature it becomes.

What better time to start developing those good habits than today.

*Matthew Henry Complete Commentary

Knowing Your Limitations

He firmly grasps the wooden handle with both hands and stretches the sharpened ax out in front of him, learning its weight before he fulfills his task. With the crowd watching in curiosity and horror, the offender is brought forward and made to kneel down with her bare neck lying exposed on the block.

Then, like a golfer practicing before his putt, he tentatively raises the ax over his head before slowly lowering it until it hovers over his intended target, perhaps even slightly brushing the tiny hairs atop the woman's skin. One practice swing, maybe two. Until suddenly, with arms fully extended, he mightily swings the ax heavenward and then back down in a rapid arc, slicing clean through life to rest on the dead wooden block beneath.

This is the chief image associated with England's Henry VIII and his time period's penchant for beheading those who crossed them.

The ax and the wooden block.

My heart pounds at these scenes. I close my eyes, knowing I would never have been a willing part of the crowd that watched such an execution.

Imagine my surprise when God showed me a similar image in Scripture.

In Matthew's gospel, John the Baptist was in the desert, the "voice in the wilderness," calling all to repent of their sin and then baptizing the repentant in the Jordan River. Throngs of people came from around the region to see this prophet in camel's hair who subsisted on locusts and honey.

Then along came the Pharisees and Sadducees, two sight-seeing groups who had apparently come out of curiosity more than for the heart-changing message.

When John saw them, he criticized their evil hearts and warned them of God's judgment to come if they remain unrepentant: "Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire" (Matt. 3:7-8, 10).

My heart dropped when I read verse 10: "The ax is already at the root of the trees."

God--holy judge and executioner--isn't just giving an empty warning to these fruitless tree-men. He's taken the ax in hand.

And what's more? What gives me chills?

He isn't just holding the ax.

He's already taken his practice swing, bringing it down to rest on the root of the trees. All that remains is the moment when He says "enough"and arcs the weapon heavenward before it crashes down, exacting His perfect judgment.

It's one thing to think of God's judgment as coming in that ever-vague "one day." It's quite another to see an image of God preparing for that judgment to the point where His holy hands are gripping the instrument, just waiting.

As Christians, we must seriously consider our efforts to proclaim Jesus to those lost souls around us.

James says, "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes" (Jas. 4:13-14).

With 2014 upon us, we who know Him as Lord and Savior must pause to reevaluate our commitment to sharing the gospel with others around us.  The time is now.

Seeing Past the Bottom Line

Christmas is the time of year when we more readily put others before ourselves and generosity blossoms more freely in our hearts.  I feel this swelling overflow as I spend several afternoons baking small loaves of banana nut bread by the dozen.  I wrap each aromatic wonder in festive red with silver curling ribbon, then give them away just to bring a bit of joy to another, to say how glad I am they're part of my life.

You won't find my husband participating in this annual Christmas bake-off...not, that it, unless you count eating a loaf or two by himself.  Although he is normally a frugal man, he does enjoy blessing others in his own way.  Usually, that involves cooking labor-intensive dishes for our extended family on Christmas Day and New Year's Eve.  Tonight, he wanted to make a couple trays of sandwiches for an after church fellowship.

As seems to happen every year, we disagreed about how many and what kind of sandwiches to make.  His logic was good--that this was just one way to give back and bless others at this time of year.  He wanted to do so lavishly, with ham, roast beef, and turkey from the deli.  But with one of my part-time jobs being cut for at least the upcoming spring and maybe even the summer semester, I couldn't see past the bottom line. 

Three pounds of meat, three loaves of bread, cheese slices, mayo....  Fifty dollars.

We buried our disagreement over the cost and breadth of the project, and he made the sandwiches as he saw fit, all as a gift to our entire church family.  But in our hearts, it was still a sore subject we had simply buried so we could enjoy the Christmas Eve service.

My husband--not me--got it right.  After placing the sandwiches on the tables for fellowship, he came and lay a Christmas card in my lap, one that had been left in our church's seasonal "post office."  What lay tucked inside the card almost led to a pre-service meltdown in the church pew-- an unexpected gift to us in the exact amount we had spent hours before on the sandwiches.

Fifty dollars.

In my focus on the cold facts of our finances, I had forgotten a truth I have learned so many times before and apparently still need to be reminded of--you can't out-give God.

Paul speaks to this truth of being generous with what we have: "whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work....He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God" (2 Cor. 9:6-11).

Many use this verse to preach a prosperity gospel.  Yet, such a gospel is false and incorrectly transforms Christianity into a what-I-can-get-from-God religion instead of a true Christianity which is concerned with what I can give to God who is worthy, no matter what He gives.  Still, time and again, I have found that what I sow in others' lives, I always seem to reap when I least expect it and in unexpected ways.  I may not reap riches, but I always seem to have "sufficiency in all things."

Since the above verses directly follow a passage encouraging the Corinthians to send money to those Christians suffering in Jerusalem, Paul was definitely speaking of sowing financially in others' lives. However, I don't believe that meaning is to the exclusion of "sowing" in other ways.   When we sow our time, our talents, and any other bit of ourselves for the benefit of others, we will also reap a bountiful harvest.

This close to Christmas, the tendency is now to turn inward and focus on just ourselves and our families, to feel like we're done with giving to others.  Still.  Give of yourself this week.  Give generously.  Not for anyone else.  But as a way to give thanks to Him for all He's done through the one single act of sending His only Son to earth for us.   

Separate But Not Indifferent

We've all had family and friends who have gone their separate ways.  Sometimes, the separation is due to one side wronging the other, either in reality or in perception.  Other times, even when blood binds people together, their lives and personalities simply propel them in two opposite directions.

In Abram's case, his separation from his nephew, Lot, was a little of both.

After stepping out on faith and leaving everything to follow God's command, Abraham grew rich.  In fact, all too soon, Abraham and Lot's flocks grew so great that "the land could not support them while they stayed together" (Gen. 13:6).  Naturally, when there's a shortage of anything (especially food and water), generally unified people will take sides, and sure enough, "quarreling arose between Abram’s herders and Lot’s" (v. 7).

Abraham determined "close relatives" shouldn't quarrel, so he proposed their family should part ways and, to that end, divide the grazing lands between them.  Abraham then showed a true heart of generosity as well as utter faith that God would continue to bless Him no matter what--he gave Lot first choice of the land.  

Uncle and nephew had surely grown very close over the years; alone and away from their homeland, they were all each other had for family.  That closeness must have made Abraham keenly aware of his nephew's inner character so much so that I'm sure Abraham was not surprised by Lot's response.  Still, just the fact that he gave Lot the chance to do the right thing and divide the "best" lands between them implies that Abraham still held out hope for his nephew.

Lot, though, greedily snapped up the better grazing lands, leaving the less-lush land for his Uncle: "Lot looked around and saw that the whole plain of the Jordan toward Zoar was well watered, like the garden of the Lord, like the land of Egypt....So Lot chose for himself the whole plain of the Jordan and set out toward the east" (Gen. 13:10-11). 

Scripture records that "Abram went to live near the great trees of Mamre at Hebron, where he pitched his tents" while "Lot lived among the cities of the plain and pitched his tents near Sodom"  (v. 18, 12).

There couldn't be two more extreme images, one of Abraham separating himself from the world to the point of the closest landmark being some trees and the other of Lot living near one of the most evil cities in history.

The problem with setting up one's tents this close to a city known throughout history as being the epitome of all things immoral is it's only a hop, skip, and a jump before you're camping closer and closer to the city gates.  Then, before you know it, you're comfortable enough to step through those gates and, eventually, live within the walls with little to no hesitation, and that is exactly what happened.  

Just one chapter later, a conglomerate of kings captured the city of Sodom and, with it, Lot's family.  As Scripture records, "They also carried off Abram’s nephew Lot and his possessions, since he was living in Sodom" (Gen. 14:12).

Living.  In.  Sodom.

At this point, Abraham had a choice.  He could save Lot or let him suffer the consequences of his own actions.

The two men had already separated.  Abraham owed Lot nothing more.  And besides, Lot had chosen poorly, obviously demonstrating a heart not devoted to remaining completely separate from the world.  Yet, whether Lot was participating in the worldly living found within Sodom's walls wasn't the point.  The question was, what would Abraham, God's chosen man, do about it?  

Although there is no other instance in Scripture of Abram picking up his sword to take the battlefield, in this solitary episode, Abram did just that:  "When Abram heard that his relative had been taken captive, he called out the 318 trained men born in his household and went in pursuit as far as Dan...He recovered all the goods and brought back his relative Lot and his possessions, together with the women and the other people" (Gen. 14:13-16).

Stupidly enough, Lot apparently did not learn his lesson here about separating himself from the world.  He evidently went back from captivity to his home in Sodom so that a mere five chapters later, angels have to come and warn Lot to leave or be destroyed along with the city.

Since Lot did not learn his lesson, does that mean, then, that Abraham should have just left him the first time to rot in the consequences of his sin?  I don't believe so.  

In Abraham, I see seeds of God's heart as shown throughout the New Testament in Jesus Christ:  first,our God is not indifferent to suffering, even when that suffering is a direct result of our choices.  Secondly, our God is a God of second chances, One who doesn't give up on us even when we seem to never learn our lessons.

These are the characteristics I see in Abraham.  These are the characteristics I believe God wants to see in the church today.  Yet, too often, it seems that the church unintentionally equates God's requirement to be "separate" from the world with being "uninvolved."  That un-involvement then leads to a heart of indifference.

Yet, God did not call His children to be indifferent or uninvolved.  He merely called us to be separate. Yes, there is a difference.

As we enter this holiday season, there is a lost world around us.  We may even have family and friends living in a modern version of Sodom.  Perhaps we have intentionally separated ourselves from them because of different moral or religious beliefs, fearing the impact on us and on our children.  

While I can honestly understand that desire, I still believe God wants us to look at that person as one who needs a Savior, as one who may only hear that gospel from your lips.  In all things, may we guard our hearts against indifference.  Let us not ignore the plight of the lost simply because we have chosen to be set apart in pursuit of sanctification.  


Image: entitled "Indifference."

One Flame of Hope

This evening marks the first Sunday of advent, the season when we Christians pause in concert to remember the sacrifice a King made when He chose to enshroud himself in the flesh of a newborn babe.

After sundown, Husband, the children, and I gathered still unsure stomachs around small cups of soup and cornbread to light the first of the long purple tapers.

As husband searched for the matches, I stepped to the living room and reached for the most well-worn Bible in the house, a New American Standard version that husband and I clung to through the worst season of our lives.

The faded cover has long since ceased to be attractive; its binding has been glued more than once; and some of its pages are stained from always being set down in the midst of life, itself. Its words, however, are still just as piercing and perfect as when the book was glossy and stiff bound with that audible crackle upon opening.

Little eyes watched as red-tipped match struck, sulfur sputtering, leaping to golden flame.

"This candle represents hope," I proclaimed.

Hope.

Even though at times we may despair, feel there is no hope, none of us really knows what it is like to live in a world without hope.

The prophet Jeremiah spoke of hope. In his letters to the exiled Israelites, to those people who felt as if their God had abandoned them to their wretchedness...to this group, he spoke words of hope.

"'For thus says the LORD, ‘When seventy years have been completed for Babylon, I will visit you and fulfill My good word to you, to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you,’ declares the LORD, ‘and I will restore your fortunes and will gather you from all the nations and from all the places where I have driven you,’ declares the LORD, ‘and I will bring you back to the place from where I sent you into exile.’" (Jer. 29:10-14).

Even in exile, in judgment, in slavery, in the midst of God's wrath--even then, there was hope for them.

A Savior was coming, one who would save them from their sin, who would reunite humanity with a holy Father.

The same holds true for us today. As Peter rejoiced, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade"(1 Peter 1:3-4).

Hope has come.

Hope is here.

Hope is coming.