The Big10: God

Overall the years, I’ve had the privilege of officiating a lot of weddings. Including this one, in the picture to the left, at a winery in Richmond, Virgina. 

Whether the weddings were in churches, in the woods, a backyard or beach, never once did a couple stand before me and vow, “I promise to do the dishes every night.” Or, “I promise to put the toilet seat down.”

While those are good promises to keep a happy home, they’re not vows. Vows are about fidelity. About love.

They’re about saying, “Of all the billions of people in the world, I forsake all others, and give myself to you. My love, my loyalty, my trust—it’s yours.”

Vows are made because marriage is about relationship not rules. They are not chains that lock us up. But keys that set us free to love without fear. 

And I believe the same is true about faith, and our relationship with God.
 
Rabbi Heschel wrote, “The root of faith is not a declaration that we believe in God, but an act of love for God.”

This quote should cause you to pause and ask "where does my love for God begin."

Then God spoke all these words, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.     
​                                              Exodus 20:1-3 

Like a couple at the altar, acting out of love their respected for one another, the Big Ten commandments begin not with rules, or a checklist of I do’s and I don’ts. It begins with God making a vow to us saying, “Forsaking all others, I choose you.”

Many of us, myself included, have often seen the commandments as a kind of blueprint for living rightly with God. But it’s a little more than just that.
 
Notice how it begins. Not with a prohibition, but with a proclamation: “I brought you out of Egypt. I set you free.” God isn’t warning us saying, “Behave, or else.” God is handing us an invitation that declares:“You don’t belong to Pharaoh anymore. You belong to me. You’re free. Now live free.”
 
The First Commandment is all about freedom…and fidelity.

This is the foundation of faith, but it’s also an invitation to a loving relationship with God and each other. Where we choose to place our trust, our allegiance, our hope. It’s like God standing at the altar, looking us in the eye and saying, “I do.”

Which throws the question to us: How will we respond? Before you answer, think about this.

In Jewish tradition, the First Commandment isn’t even called a commandment. It’s called the First Word. Because it starts with God’s self-disclosure: “I am the LORD your God.” Notice the intimacy—not “the God,” but your God.
 
This is covenantal language. It’s intimate, it’s personal, it’s relational. That’s the invitation. And then there’s the Hebrew phrase, ʿal-pānāy — which literally means “before my face.” As in, “Don’t put other things before my face.”
 
It’s like God is saying, “Don’t block the view. Don’t let anything come between us. I just want to see you. All of you.” You see, God wants to be our first priority, our truest, deepest love because that’s who we are to God.

Which means we each have to ask ourselves an even harder question: What have I let slip into that sacred space between me and Yahweh ?
 
As you probably know, there’s no shortage of gods out there vying for our attention. Take the shiny god of technology that promises connection, but often leaves us more isolated than ever.
 
Or the god of economic security that whispers if we just stack up enough money, we’ll be safe. But it usually leaves us feeling more anxious, clutching what we have, fearing others will take it from us.
 
As we see unfold every day in the news, the gods of politics, nationalism, and even denominational pride. They demand loyalty by drawing lines between who’s in, who’s out, who’s right, who’s wrong. These gods thrive on exclusion and ego; they say you’re only worthy if you’re right.
 
None of these things are evil in themselves—they can all be good gifts. But when they start asking for our total devotion—our time, relationships, compassion, integrity—they stop being gifts and start being gods. We’ll discuss this more next week with the second commandment on idol worship.
 
But for now, let’s look at Jesus who was tempted in the wilderness. He faced the very same question before us: Who gets your allegiance, your fidelity? The tempter offered him bread to satisfy hunger, power to rule the nations, and spectacle to win followers.

Each is an idol in disguise: economic security, political control, religious performance. And to each one, Jesus responded faithfully: “Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.
 
Where Israel stumbled in the wilderness, Jesus remains faithful. Where we bow to other gods, Jesus shows us another way. His “no” to the worldly gods is a resounding “yes” to the God of love, the God of freedom, the God who alone deserves our trust.
 
In a world where loyalty to tribe, nation, ideology, or class pits us against each other—Jesus points us back to the One whose love unites. A love so abundant, so all-encompassing, that it spills over to everyone God loves. Including you. Me. And every jerk you can think of.
 
That’s why Jesus said this is the greatest commandment: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength” (Mark 12:29–30).

Fidelity to God is an invitation into the most profound relationship possible—one that takes in our whole being. But he doesn’t stop there. Jesus also adds: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:31). The two loves are inseparable. You can’t have one without the other.
 
The way I see it, when those smaller gods creep in, our love for Yahweh and our neighbors shrinks. It makes us stingy, selective, tribal, divisive. This is true no matter what political, economic, or religious side you are on.

But when our love for Yahweh comes first, everything else expands—freeing us to build a space where everyone belongs, even the neighbors we’d rather avoid.
 
To quote the Catholic activist Dorothy Day, “I really only love God as much as I love the person I love the least.”

Let that quote settles in your heart. I hope it makes you uncomfortable. And forces you to take an honest look at what fills that space between you and God.
 
Because at Anamesa, you’ll find Democrats who are passionate about social justice. And you’ll find Republicans who are passionate about fiscal responsibility.

In our community, we’ve got folks drowning in student debt. And retirees worried about their investments keeping up with inflation.

Here you will find openly gay people who sit next to folks wrestling with traditional teachings. And somehow we all still get along, still love, still hold each other in faith and fidelity.
 
When we put God first – and not our version of God, not our political spin god, not our cultural conditioning god, but the living God who declared “you are mine,” something remarkable happens.
 
We find that we can disagree deeply about secondary things and still stay united in our primary devotion to the One in whose image we are all made.

Right out of the gate, God declares: you are my beloved. And when we honor that, we can love God, love others and serve both—together, as one.
 
Henri Nouwen reminds us that “Community is not a place where people have it all together.
It’s a place where each one of us is welcome as we are.”

When we put God first, trusting God’s fidelity, we can build communities where love is practiced without restrictions. We can become that sacred space where everyone belongs—even the one who drives you crazy.
 
This doesn’t mean we’ll all think alike or vote alike. We won’t. And we shouldn’t. But what we should do is love alike—with the kind of radical, justice-seeking, mercy-extending love that Jesus embodied.
 
So here’s the call: let’s put down the false gods of tribe, ideology, and fear. And turn again toward the God whose love frees us to see each other as beloved. The gates of Egypt are behind us. The wilderness is before us. And God is in the space between - always faithful, always loving, always uniting.

​So let’s have no other gods get in the way of this Divine presence and faithfulness. Let’s not allow any false allegiances block our view of the God who wants to see our whole being.
 
This week, I invite you to examine your heart. What are the things that tug at your ultimate devotion, and come between you and God? Name them. And let them go. So that  you can face the One whose fidelity never wavers, and say “I do.”
 
To us as a church: let’s keep building a community where God’s love has the first and final word. And may our vow to God become freedom for all, until God’s kingdom is visible and unobstructed among us in the space between.