Category: Christian Living

We must think sometimes that idolatry is difficult. That we would immediately recognize it and run. That we — as good Christ-followers — have other problems to deal with than idolatry.

After all, idolatry is so, well, Old Testament.

We don’t sit around carving totems, or carry talismans, or genuflect before paintings or statutes. Do we?

Paul tells the believers at Corinth that their ancestors had plenty of spiritual priveleges as they wandered in the desert, yet still managed to commit idolatry at every turn. We have even more in the way of gospel privilege, but Paul warns us to avoid idolatry: “Now these things took place as examples for us, that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not be idolaters…” and he concludes the passage with the command “Therefore, my beloved, flee from idolatry” (1 Corinthians 10:6-7, 14).

Paul gives four examples from Old Testament Israel (yes, Old Testament):

1. the golden calf. Just as soon as Israel was delivered by God from Egypt, they grew impatient with Moses’ delay on the mountain and built a calf of gold. They even described the calf as the god who led them from Egypt. They were impatient, not with Moses, but the true God, and preferred a god that they could control. In effect, they did not want a God at all, certainly not one that would make them wait and not serve their pleasure.

2. sexual immorality. In this episode a soldier runs a fornicating couple through with a spear. God had accused Israel of “yoking himself to Baal of Peor,” blatant idolatry comprised of worshiping a false god. But later we are told that an Israelite took a Midianite woman into his family, and the plague on Israel stopped when the soldier killed them both.

3. testing Christ. The Israelites complained of the food they had in the desert (manna) and that they had no water. God sent serpents to bite them, and had Moses put a bronze serpent on a pole for the people’s healing.

4. grumbling. On the doorstep of the promised land, Israel complained that it would have been better for them to die in Egypt, to die in the desert, anything but die at the hands of the ‘giants’ in the land.

What, then, does Paul admonish his readers (us) to flee from?

Impatience (is idolatry). Really? If we think our time so valuable that we cannot wait — whether for God, for God’s servant, or anything requiring us to stand in line — then there might be an idol in our heart.

Dissatisfaction with God’s provision (is idolatry). Huh? Rejecting the good things God has provided — because it isn’t what we want, or what someone else has — is setting up other gods.

Grumbling (is idolatry). Wait a minute, now… Just grumbling? When we long for the “good ol’ days” rather than what God proposes for us, revising our history and imagining that a task is too difficult, too dangerous, or too hard, we are setting up an idol.

It is no coincidence that most of these incidents mentioned by Paul related to personal comfort and security…pleasing the self over serving God.

How easy is idolatry? That easy.

I’ll probably take some heat for this.

But then, my wife and I have taken heat for our stance regarding the holiday icons since the birth of our first child (we have four), so what’s new?

Before we had children, we discussed what we would do regarding Santa Claus, the “Easter Bunny,” Halloween, and even the Tooth Fairy. None of our children have ever thought that Santa Claus delivered Christmas presents, none have ever received an Easter basket or eggs, and none have ever been paid for losing a tooth under the guise that the Tooth Fairy has some macabre enamel fetish.

They are, for the most part, normal children. (I say “for the most part” because the eight-year-old actually likes salad).

I am not, with this revelation, attempting to convert avid icon-officianados to our way of thinking. I do, however, wish to demonstrate that it is actually possible to celebrate Christian holy days such as Christmas and Easter without all the unrelated accoutrements. And contrary to the dire pronouncements by all your family and friends, doing so will not cause your children to be weird.

Yesterday we went the entire day without speaking of the “Easter Bunny.” We did not paint eggs. We did not hunt eggs. We had no need to explain the biological and philosophical problems caused by the imagery of a bunny laying eggs. Yet there was not wailing, there was no crying, there was no “egg envy” for which we had to offer sanctified substitutes.

(However, contraband chocolate eggs were discovered in the picnic ice chest, but were eaten by the kids as simply chocolate. An investigation is pending.)

What we did yesterday was go as a family to worship services with the rest of our faith family. We had an open-air Easter service under a tent, celebrated resurrection with the ordinance of baptism, and fellowshiped with the faith family during a picnic on the grounds.

We sang songs about the glory of the cross, the greatness of the Messiah, and the redemption of God. We heard preaching about the curse of death, about the glories won for believers in the cross and Christ’s resurrection, and about the new life believers have because Jesus rose from the dead.

I don’t contend that participating in holiday icons will make your children weird (growing up, I did all of them…ok, not the best argument).

What I do contend is that they are not necessary. Putting them aside helps us to focus on the birth, on the death, on the resurrection of the Lord we follow.

A church member criticizes another believer for mowing grass on Sunday afternoon, saying that it causes him to “stumble.” Another church member criticizes a believer for drinking a beer with his supper, claiming it causes him to “stumble.”

In 1 Corinthians chapter 8, Paul addresses “stumbling blocks”, but not mowing grass or drinking beer. Paul addressed a situation in which formerly pagan idol-worshipers had been converted to Christ. Because they came out of the culture that sacrificed animals to pagan gods, and the unused meat was sold to the markets and then sold to the public, they were sensitive to the use of that meat by other believers.

Paul seems to direct mature believers — those who had “knowledge” and whose conscience was not “weak” — to be aware of such problems and to follow his lead in avoiding the eating of meat if it causes the weaker brother to stumble.

But “stumbling” seemed much more than merely being offended, or learning about a new freedom in Christ. To Paul, stumbling seemed to involve the operation of the conscience to avoid certain behavior — eating the proverbial “idol-burger” — and being tempted to eat the burger by seeing other believers eat.

Our anecdotal episodes of mowing grass and drinking beer with supper don’t seem to fit with Paul’s description.

What situations today correspond to that which Paul described? Is it simply a new believer, who was brought up believing that Christians don’t drink beer, then seeing a fellow believer drink beer? Is it simply a believer witnessing another believer mowing his grass on Sunday and beginning to mow his own grass on Sunday?

Mark 3:7-35 is one of those passages that you rarely hear a sermon on. In previous chapters, Mark records identifiable episodes with clear parameters. In what follows in Chapter 4, Mark records significant portions of Jesus teaching, mostly in the form of parables.

Here, Mark gives us the proverbial goulash.

What theme could connect reports of crowds so great they threatened to crush Jesus; continued exorcisms; the calling of disciples and the naming of the twelve apostles; family trying to commit Jesus; religious leaders’ accusations of demon-possession; and Jesus’ proclamation that his true relatives are those who do the will of God?

There must be some reason that God inspired Mark — through the Holy Spirit — to record these events as he did.

Mark 3:7 begins with reports of the greatest crowd yet swarming to Jesus on reports of his great deeds. Mark 3:32-35 ends with a description of those “who were sitting around” Jesus, identified by Jesus himself as true family.

What is clear is that Mark summarizes in this passage that exposure to Jesus did not automatically result in discipleship. The crowd saw Jesus perform great deeds repeatedly, his family saw these things, the religious leaders saw these things; yet only a few at this time, seated at Jesus’ feet, become true family.

The difference is not greater perception, more intelligence, a better heart; those who came to Jesus were those whom he called to himself (Mark 3:13-14).

And those who sat at Jesus’ feet did so despite the presence of throngs of people who apparently wanted nothing more than a good show, who wanted to rub the magic lamp and see a genie, who thought nothing of disrupting even Jesus’ eating habits to get what they wanted.

Those who sat at Jesus’ feet did so despite his own family accusing him of madness and seeking to whisk him away to parts unknown, presumably to putter around with the other embarassing relatives.

Those who sat at Jesus’ feet did so despite the accusation of religious authorities that Jesus was not just mad, but possessed by the devil.

Jesus binds the strong man, plundering men from Satan’s family to become members of his own.

Christ followers are told clearly that we are strangers and aliens in this land, that we should fix our hope not on the things of this world but lay up treasure in heaven, and that our lives are but a vapor. (Heb. 11:13, Col. 1:1-3, Mat. 6:19, Jam. 4:14).

Paul tells us “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of of God. Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:1-3).

Followers of Christ should not fear to die, because death has already struck it best blow, it has played its best hand, it has done its greatest damage. “O death, where is thy sting?” (1 Cor. 15:55). It has done all this yet failed to conquer anyone who lives in Christ.

Yet when a young wife and child die in a car crash, leaving a young husband behind, the reality of a Fall in which physical death reigns from Adam, of the fragility and shortness of life, of a wrecked creation longing for the healing hand of its Creator, all rush in and we can do little but cry, with the prophet, “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?” (Hab. 1:2).

Yet God does hear. And he speaks.

He speaks words of comfort, reminders that we are pilgrims, that this is not our home but that our home is heaven. He shouts to us in our pain (C.S. Lewis) that we have died and our life is hidden in Christ, who is our life.

He speaks the truth that Christ, who holds our life, is “a man of sorrows, and acquanted with grief” (Isa. 53:3), which permits us, amidst incalculable pain, to know — if not always say in return — “blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:23).

Mark records two episodes in which Jesus and the Pharisees have a confrontration about the Sabbath.

In Mark 2:23-3:6, the disciples of Jesus are critized for picking heads of grain on the Sabbath, and the Pharisees plot to destroy Jesus when he healed a man on the Sabbath.

Jesus’ pithy, but weighty, summary of the argument against Pharisee criticism is that the Sabbath is made for man, and the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.

Here we discover that the Sabbath day was a weekly reminder that God provided for his people enough during the week to sustain them on the day of rest. The weekly Sabbath is a picture of God’s provision of righteousness for his people, so that they, too, can rest from their works (of righteousness) in order to rely upon God’s provision (of righteousness).

As Hebrews 3:14 in context demonstrates, we who enter God’s rest now enter it “in Christ.” That is, Christ is our Sabbath rest.

Praise God.

Dear Pastor,

I’m looking for your guidance and direction in leading me, my family and the other sheep of the church from a comfortable life of Christianity into one with risk and adventure

Dear Church Member,

Hmm…I know what you mean. But we should not seek risk and adventure for its own sake, but instead seek to follow Christ. What I mean is, following Christ is sometimes mundane. That is, your following Christ at this point in your life includes working to provide diapers and bottles, and late-night feedings.

Others following Christ might include helping children with math, offering guidance in dating relationships, or the seemingly unfruitful exercise of leading the family in home devotions.

It might be better for us to speak of putting all we have “at risk” for the sake of following Christ. That is, should following Christ require it, we are willing to lose reputation, standing, security, possessions.

Risk and adventure for some might mean traveling to a closed country to establish a Christian church, where what is placed at risk is the attachment of head to body.

We might be able to do some of that. But to be faithful with big risk far away, we should be faithful with smaller, “less risky”, risk close at home.

For instance, adventure might include opening your home to troubled kids in your neighborhood, inviting skeptical and critical neighbors over to eat, going door-to-door to meet your neighbors and tell them why you are on earth living down the street from them.

Risk might include forging relationships across racial divides, providing mercy relief to homeless or jobless or thankless or those society deems ‘worthless’, and repeating the gospel to those we know think they know or don’t want to know.

Risk, as it were, might be leaving a large church with all the amenities to be part of a church plant with nothing but borrowed hymnals, the preached Word, and love for the lost.

Your desire is consistent with Christ’s admonition that whoever wishes to follow him must “deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow” Jesus. So much of culture, our flesh, and the devil instead suggest that we affirm ourselves, protect our lives, and control Jesus.

Lay your life — with all that it means — at the foot of the cross and he will direct your steps, whether they lead next door to face the ridicule of the village atheist, or around the world to face executioner’s blade.

Your Pastor