The Big Ten: Idols

The most dangerous idols aren’t the ones out in the open. They’re the one’s we hold in our heart. The loyalties and attachments we cling to more tightly than God.

​Has this ever happened to you?  You’re hanging out with someone, in a good conversation, and then all of a sudden your phone buzzes.

​Without giving it a second thought, your hand moves. And suddenly, your focus is off the conversation and onto your device.

It’s funny how something so small can command so much of us.

​A notification might seem innocuous. But beneath the surface it’s steering us, commanding our attention, capturing our hearts.

​Last Sunday we began this series with the first word: “I am Yahweh. Your God. You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:1-3). We learned how this is a call for fidelity, to trust in God alone. We named how easy it is to set up false gods—and how quickly they capture our devotion.
 
Then, after that service, someone asked why I didn’t mention what happened that week. He wasn’t talking about my book release. He was talking about the shootings. The finger pointing. The outrage. I am sorry I didn’t say anything because I think it would have proven my point on how easy it is to place lesser things between us and God.
 
I know we don't bow to CNN or Fox News. But in order to appease the ratings gods, the networks will do whatever it takes to keep us glued to the chaos. They feed our phones and devices algorithms that feed our outrage and fear. I tell myself, just one more scroll, one more click—but it never satisfies.
 
That’s the dangerous and subtle power of idolatry. It sneaks in, demanding our attention and claiming our allegiance. And most of the time, we don’t even know it.

Which takes us to our reading of the second Commandment.

“You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above or that is on the earth beneath or that is in the water under the earth.  You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.

​
When you think of an idol, what comes to mind? Golden calves? Carved statues? Shrines to long-dead gods?
 
At first glance, those things seem like ancient history. But as you know, they still exist today. Just this week, a 12-foot golden statue of the president holding a giant Bitcoin was placed outside the Capitol. It was pitched as a simple symbol of innovation. But I am sure to many folks, it looks a lot like a tempting invitation to worship wealth and power.
 
Like Psalms 135 states, “Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. Those who make them are like them.”
 
Back then, idols were thought to contained a deity’s power. By holding onto that power, it was believed a person could control it with rituals, and manipulate it with offerings.

But the psalm goes on to tell us to put our “trust in Yahweh” who is way too big to be contained, muchless controlled.
 
We might not have shrines to Ba’al in our homes. But idols are still a big part of our culture. I mean, there’s a show literally called American Idol.

Our society is drawn to the cult of personality, where fame is revered as sacred.

We pour our devotion into celebrities, athletes, influencers, politicians in cult like fashion—offering our fidelity and blind allegiance to people no different than us; excusing behavior we’d never tolerate in ourselves.
 
While admiring someone’s talents and achievements isn’t bad. Venerating them can cause great harm to families, schools and workplaces, to society as a whole.

Sports can inspire us, politics can guide us, celebrities can entertain us. But when they distort our love and fracture our communities, they can become idols.

When their actions or reactions become your own, they can become idols.

Worse, when they inspire you to take someone’s life or livelihood, that’s not fidelity, that’s idolatry.
 
This is also true in religion. If you clutch a tradition so tightly it chokes out love, that’s not God, that’s idolatry. If you defend doctrine so fiercely that there’s no room for mercy, hospitality,  and grace that’s not Jesus. It’s idolatry.

And, sadly, it’s so engrained in our culture, that it can be hard to see in our own lives.
 
The most dangerous idols aren’t the ones out in the open. They’re the one’s we hold in our heart. The loyalties and attachments we cling to more tightly than God.
 
For some, it’s the idol of fear, the voice that says there will never be enough. I have to hold on to what is mine. Fear pushes others out, …it makes inclusion, compassion and generosity almost impossible.
 
For others, it’s the idol of approval, where likes, applause, and public opinion decide your worth. You find yourself doing whatever it takes to get noticed, instead of resting in God’s delight.
 
There’s the idol of doubt, the quiet suspicion that God isn’t really with us. Or the idol of anxiety that drowns out the still, small voice of God’s peace.
 
The thing is, idols always promise more than they can deliver. They keep us addicted, always grasping, never at peace.

But God comes to us with love and says, “I am enough. Let those things go so your hands can be free to accept all that I have to offer.”
 
It’s like when a rich young ruler approached Jesus and asked, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:71-31). Mark tells us that Jesus looked at this guy with love, then named the idol holding him back. “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own, give to the poor, and follow me.”
 
The young man walked away sad because of his wealth. But later in the gospel, I believe we meet him again. Mark points out someone in the garden when they arrest Jesus (Mark 14:51-52). A young man wearing nothing but a linen cloth. When they tried to arrest him, he slipped away—naked—leaving behind his last possession. He gave up everything to follow the way of Jesus, and was free.
 
Julian of Norwich wrote, “God is our clothing, who wraps us and enfolds us for love.”

When we are clothed in God’s love, we don’t need the armor of idols. So, the real question isn’t whether we have idols—it’s which ones.
 
Which allegiances have quietly taken God’s place? Which attachments do we need to let go of to be present with God again? Which fears or false securities are stopping you from actually loving God, loving others, and serving both?
 
At its heart of the second commandment is God saying: “Don’t waste your time on things that want to control you. Remember, I have delivered you. I have set you free.”
 
Idols take from you. But God gives. Idols shrink life. But God’s love and grace enlarges life.
 
Idols divide, exclude, and turn neighbors into enemies. But when we trust the living God first and foremost, we have all that we need to build communities of love—spaces where people are cherished not for what they own, or achieve, or promise but belong because they’re made in God’s image.
 
So, what things are keeping you from resting in God’s abundance? What do you need to let go of to be filled to the brim with love, peace, joy, purpose?

Let’s not forget, this commandment comes with a promise: God’s steadfast love flows “to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.”
 
Jesus invites us to empty our pockets, open our hearts, and unclench our fists; to let go of the idols that promise safety but never deliver. And in their place, let us open our hearts to be filled with all that God has to offer.

As Thomas Merton put it, “The greatest need of our time is to clean out the enormous mass of mental and emotional rubbish that clutters our minds,  and make room for God alone.”
 
So, this week, I invite you to pay attention to what you lean on to feel important or safe. Notice what you cling to when you’re scared. Or when the world is falling apart around you. Name it. And if you can, release it. Because God has something better for you. The very heart of God.
 
In God’s heart is the kind of love that can’t be boxed in, bought out, or bargained with. A love that is given to anyone who wants it, without terms or conditions. A love that is trustworthy, constant, and always, always on your side.
 
Together, we get to be a community that bows only to God. A community that walks the way of Jesus, embodying God’s love with every fiber of our being.
 
As you leave here today, take God’s love with you. Hold onto God’s promise tightly. And remember: every idol we release makes a little more room for love to take root. When love takes root, we become the people Jesus dreamed we could be.
 
The world doesn’t need more fear, more blaming, or more division. What it needs—what we need—are people who trust God’s steadfast love more than idols.


Work Cited
Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, trans. Elizabeth Spearing (London: Penguin Books, 1998), 135.
Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1956), 34.