June 30, 2009: What If You're Not Being Fed?
A couple days ago I explained to some young people that it is the duty of all Christian believers to attend church services regularly. To refuse to do so is to defy God, reject his commandment to assemble together, and deny him the worship that is his due.
I dared to set myself forth as an example. On Saturday August 8 – by God's grace - I will be wed to my beloved, and on Sunday, August 9, my bride and I will rise from the marriage bed and go to a church and worship the Lord in the company of his people. Why not? Why should the Lord's Day following our wedding be a day when God is less worthy of praise? Will we really be that tired?
One of the youths asked me, "But what if, at the church you're attending, you're not being fed?" That is an excellent question and I'm afraid I flubbed the answer, so I thought I'd take some time to think it over and craft a better response. Here's what I think:
It is definitely the duty of every minister to feed his congregation. Jesus said to Peter, "Feed my sheep," and pressed that obligation onto him by repeating it three times (John 21:15-17). Peter himself passed it along to the elders he trained: "Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care" (1 Peter 5:2). Shepherds must see to it that their sheep are fed with all that's good for them.
What's good for Christians is the Word of God. As a minister I have no other food to give. "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God" (Matthew 4:4). "I delight in your decrees; I will not neglect your word" (Psalm 119:16). "Like newborn babies, long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow in respect to salvation" (1 Peter 2:2 - NASB).
So I would urge Christians to flee churches where the Word of God is not on the menu very much. This would include churches on the far left and the far right that pursue political agendas more than the Word; it would include large swatches of the trendy middle that base sermon series off of hit TV shows and current movies; and it definitely would include an abomination like the church of Joel Osteen, who manages occasionally to drop a Bible verse into his message like it was a bay leaf in a tub of spaghetti sauce.
A long-standing frustration of mine is that widespread biblical ignorance on the part of evangelicals means that, whenever I point out that some favorite Christian phrase is not in Scripture (e.g. "God's unconditional love" or "a personal relationship with Jesus Christ"), and why I believe that such sloppy phrases lead to sloppy thinking and bad doctrine - you would think, by the look on the faces of my dear Christian brothers and sisters, that I had just stomped on their puppies. You have no idea how many times I've contemplated how much easier my job as a shepherd would be if the preachers my flock had been listening to had just preached the Word, fed them the same old boring Word, on its own terms, rather than invent evangelical catch-phrases and perform inspiring riffs on them.
But if your minister is faithfully preaching the Word of God Sunday by Sunday, verse by verse, then you are being fed. You may not like it, and it may not excite you, and you may not even realize that you are being nourished. But the Word faithfully proclaimed is what you need to chew on and swallow and digest. Jeremiah 15:16: "When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart's delight."
Having said that, there are still two important points to make:
First, keep in mind that you don't go to church mainly to get fed. You go to worship God. Sunday morning worship is not about you getting your spiritual sustenance (we must get our eyes off ourselves!), but about God getting the glory, honor, praise and thanks that all creatures must render to him. You can do that, you can honor God, even when there are no morsels for your starving soul to feed on, and even if you leave the service hungrier than when you began. You go to church for God's sake, not yours.
Secondly, I believe the only Christian believers who have a right to complain about not being fed are new Christians, those who have only known Christ for a few months at most. The rest should not only be able to feed themselves, but should be doing what they can to feed others. The writer of Hebrews admonishes veteran believers on this point, saying "by this time you ought to be teachers" (Hebrews 5:12). A baby Christian might legitimately ask, "What if I'm not being fed?", but the better question for the older Christian is, "What if, at the church I'm going to, I'm not feeding anybody?"
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
June 23, 2009: What It Means To Thank God
Have you ever thought about just exactly what it is we're doing when we thank God?
Bible translators have to think about this when they're putting the Scriptures into languages that have no word for "thank" or "thanksgiving". It's a challenge. Suppose English had no such word - how would you express St. Paul's thought in Romans 1:8: "I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you," or his commandment in Philippians 4:6: "In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God"?
If I recall correctly from my Bible translator days, what we do when we thank God (or thank anyone, really) is acknowledge that he is the one responsible for some good thing that made us happy. So, "Thank you for this gift" comes out, "It makes me happy that you gave me this gift," or perhaps, "It is good that you gave me this gift."
The other day I went for a long walk at dawn, and, for a while, before my attention-deficit brain wandered to other stuff, focused on telling God about things he was responsible for that made me happy. Simple things, like the scent of wildflowers or the sight of the reddening sky in the east. I tried to make the effort to express thankfulness
without my usual lazy reliance on the word "thanks," or the phrase, "Thank you."
Someone wrote to me recently asking, "Do you delight in God?" and I wrote back, "Absolutely! Every time I delight in anything I am delighting in God. He made everything, including the ingredients that go into a French Silk pie, and the skillful hands that prepared it, and the taste buds in my mouth that savor it, and the endorphins in my brain that get released even before I have begun to swallow it, and the kind company with which I share it. Where, in any delight, is God not? What delight can we possibly experience that he should not get credit for?"
These days I'm giving God a lot of credit for a lot of delight. Most of that just spills out of my mouth in an inarticulate and repetitive (but heartfelt!) "Oh, God, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. Thank you. I mean, really, thank you! Thanks, God. Thank you. Thank you so very, very much." Because the person who wrote to me asking, "Do you delight in God?" is, herself, the most delightful person I have ever met, and she loves me, and, by God's inscrutable work within her blessed heart, has found it possible to delight in me (seriously!!!), and has agreed to marry me on August 8.
If English had no word for thanks, then I would still tell God how happy I am that he did this, and how he, and he alone, gets all the credit for it.
Rejoice, all of you, rejoice in the Lord, with me and Lisa Krausfeldt.
Have you ever thought about just exactly what it is we're doing when we thank God?
Bible translators have to think about this when they're putting the Scriptures into languages that have no word for "thank" or "thanksgiving". It's a challenge. Suppose English had no such word - how would you express St. Paul's thought in Romans 1:8: "I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you," or his commandment in Philippians 4:6: "In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God"?
If I recall correctly from my Bible translator days, what we do when we thank God (or thank anyone, really) is acknowledge that he is the one responsible for some good thing that made us happy. So, "Thank you for this gift" comes out, "It makes me happy that you gave me this gift," or perhaps, "It is good that you gave me this gift."
The other day I went for a long walk at dawn, and, for a while, before my attention-deficit brain wandered to other stuff, focused on telling God about things he was responsible for that made me happy. Simple things, like the scent of wildflowers or the sight of the reddening sky in the east. I tried to make the effort to express thankfulness
without my usual lazy reliance on the word "thanks," or the phrase, "Thank you."
Someone wrote to me recently asking, "Do you delight in God?" and I wrote back, "Absolutely! Every time I delight in anything I am delighting in God. He made everything, including the ingredients that go into a French Silk pie, and the skillful hands that prepared it, and the taste buds in my mouth that savor it, and the endorphins in my brain that get released even before I have begun to swallow it, and the kind company with which I share it. Where, in any delight, is God not? What delight can we possibly experience that he should not get credit for?"
These days I'm giving God a lot of credit for a lot of delight. Most of that just spills out of my mouth in an inarticulate and repetitive (but heartfelt!) "Oh, God, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. Thank you. I mean, really, thank you! Thanks, God. Thank you. Thank you so very, very much." Because the person who wrote to me asking, "Do you delight in God?" is, herself, the most delightful person I have ever met, and she loves me, and, by God's inscrutable work within her blessed heart, has found it possible to delight in me (seriously!!!), and has agreed to marry me on August 8.
If English had no word for thanks, then I would still tell God how happy I am that he did this, and how he, and he alone, gets all the credit for it.
Rejoice, all of you, rejoice in the Lord, with me and Lisa Krausfeldt.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
June 16, 2009: The Problem With Prophetic Utterances Today
I want to begin by defining the term "eschatological orthodoxy". "Eschatological" means having to do with the end times. "Orthodoxy" means right belief. So eschatological orthodoxy is the right belief about end times. If you are eschatologically orthodox, you believe what is true (or at least acceptable, church-sanctioned) about the end of days.
Now, a story:
In 1995 my friend John received a prophetic word from a charismatic pastor. "John," the pastor said, "I have a word from God for you concerning your future spouse." The pastor shared what he felt God had put on his heart about John's wife-to-be.
John was excited and figured he would be meeting that special someone in the next day or two. But he didn't. Thirteen years of singleness followed, during which, he said, he felt that that pastor "should have been stoned, or at least rebuked." Last year, however, John finally met, courted, engaged and married the woman of his dreams. Joy is evident on both his and his beloved's face. He still puzzles, though, over why it took so many years for the prophecy to be fulfilled.
I do not share John's puzzlement, because I do not believe that the prophecy in 1995 and the marriage in 2008 had anything to do with each other. My reason for this disbelief springs from my zealous, unwavering commitment to eschatological orthodoxy.
By eschatological orthodoxy I don't mean anything like the nature and duration of the gap (if any) between the Rapture and the Second Coming of Christ. Nor do I think that any of the competing views of the millennium, pre-, post-, a- or pan-, are unorthodox. (If you are unfamiliar with pan-millennialism, it's the view that punts the question away and says everything will pan out all right.)
To be eschatologically orthodox you must embrace by faith two very simple core doctrines:
1) Jesus will return, and
2) You must be ready for it, because it can occur at any time.
Christians may differ about what signs may precede his arrival, and whether those signs have already been fulfilled - but there is no mistaking the biblical urgency to be ready now, right now, for the appearing of Christ. He may arrive before the sun sets tonight, or before I have finished typing this page. 1 Thessalonians 5:2 says "for you know very well the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night." Jesus concluded a parable that contrasted those who are prepared and those who are unready by saying "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour" (Matthew 25:13). In 1 Corinthians 15:52 Paul says it will take place "in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye". Our constant state of readiness for this moment must stir us to holiness: we are to live "self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope - the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ" (Titus 2:12-13).
I do not know if Christ will return today or 100,000 years from now, but my orthodox faith insists that I be spiritually prepared should it occur just seconds from now. I know nothing that would prevent it from happening that soon.
And that is the problem with confident prophetic utterances today. When a man says, for example, "God has told me such-and-such about the woman you will some day marry," he is necessarily (though of course unintentionally) saying "God has revealed to me that Jesus will not return any time soon. " Think about it. Jesus taught that marriage is for this age only: "those who are considered worthy of taking part in that age and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage" (Luke 20:35). Therefore, in order for my friend John to have believed that his pastor's prophecy had to be true, he would necessarily have had to believe that the possibility of a sudden return of Christ could not be true. Any time a prophet today proclaims a "thus says the Lord" about some future event that necessarily pertains to the conditions of this present age, he or she is – in effect - denying the doctrine of the imminent (that is, "possible-at-any-time") return of Christ.
Just a couple days ago I was asked about what I was discerning of the voice of the Lord in circumstances pertaining both to my personal life and that of Faith Bible Church. In answering I clung doggedly to my eschatological orthodoxy, saying that, while it sure looked to me like things were lining up beautifully under the hand of God for A, B and C to happen, it was impossible to know for sure. How could anyone know that? How dare anyone pronounce a "Thus says the Lord" over such possible future events? After all, Jesus could return before I finish this senten
I want to begin by defining the term "eschatological orthodoxy". "Eschatological" means having to do with the end times. "Orthodoxy" means right belief. So eschatological orthodoxy is the right belief about end times. If you are eschatologically orthodox, you believe what is true (or at least acceptable, church-sanctioned) about the end of days.
Now, a story:
In 1995 my friend John received a prophetic word from a charismatic pastor. "John," the pastor said, "I have a word from God for you concerning your future spouse." The pastor shared what he felt God had put on his heart about John's wife-to-be.
John was excited and figured he would be meeting that special someone in the next day or two. But he didn't. Thirteen years of singleness followed, during which, he said, he felt that that pastor "should have been stoned, or at least rebuked." Last year, however, John finally met, courted, engaged and married the woman of his dreams. Joy is evident on both his and his beloved's face. He still puzzles, though, over why it took so many years for the prophecy to be fulfilled.
I do not share John's puzzlement, because I do not believe that the prophecy in 1995 and the marriage in 2008 had anything to do with each other. My reason for this disbelief springs from my zealous, unwavering commitment to eschatological orthodoxy.
By eschatological orthodoxy I don't mean anything like the nature and duration of the gap (if any) between the Rapture and the Second Coming of Christ. Nor do I think that any of the competing views of the millennium, pre-, post-, a- or pan-, are unorthodox. (If you are unfamiliar with pan-millennialism, it's the view that punts the question away and says everything will pan out all right.)
To be eschatologically orthodox you must embrace by faith two very simple core doctrines:
1) Jesus will return, and
2) You must be ready for it, because it can occur at any time.
Christians may differ about what signs may precede his arrival, and whether those signs have already been fulfilled - but there is no mistaking the biblical urgency to be ready now, right now, for the appearing of Christ. He may arrive before the sun sets tonight, or before I have finished typing this page. 1 Thessalonians 5:2 says "for you know very well the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night." Jesus concluded a parable that contrasted those who are prepared and those who are unready by saying "Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour" (Matthew 25:13). In 1 Corinthians 15:52 Paul says it will take place "in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye". Our constant state of readiness for this moment must stir us to holiness: we are to live "self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope - the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ" (Titus 2:12-13).
I do not know if Christ will return today or 100,000 years from now, but my orthodox faith insists that I be spiritually prepared should it occur just seconds from now. I know nothing that would prevent it from happening that soon.
And that is the problem with confident prophetic utterances today. When a man says, for example, "God has told me such-and-such about the woman you will some day marry," he is necessarily (though of course unintentionally) saying "God has revealed to me that Jesus will not return any time soon. " Think about it. Jesus taught that marriage is for this age only: "those who are considered worthy of taking part in that age and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage" (Luke 20:35). Therefore, in order for my friend John to have believed that his pastor's prophecy had to be true, he would necessarily have had to believe that the possibility of a sudden return of Christ could not be true. Any time a prophet today proclaims a "thus says the Lord" about some future event that necessarily pertains to the conditions of this present age, he or she is – in effect - denying the doctrine of the imminent (that is, "possible-at-any-time") return of Christ.
Just a couple days ago I was asked about what I was discerning of the voice of the Lord in circumstances pertaining both to my personal life and that of Faith Bible Church. In answering I clung doggedly to my eschatological orthodoxy, saying that, while it sure looked to me like things were lining up beautifully under the hand of God for A, B and C to happen, it was impossible to know for sure. How could anyone know that? How dare anyone pronounce a "Thus says the Lord" over such possible future events? After all, Jesus could return before I finish this senten
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
June 9, 2009: "Do It Again Just The Same Way, God"
Nine-year-old Michelle wanted a bicycle very badly, though it seemed unlikely that her father, a struggling dairy farmer, could afford one. She decided one night to pray for a bike with all the spiritual effort she could muster. At church she had heard about fasting, and also that Jesus said that when you prayed you weren't supposed to tell anyone about it, but go to your closet and shut the door and pray there. (Our newer translations of Matthew 6:6 say "your room", but the old King James Version said "thy closet".) So she dismissed herself from the dinner table without eating, went to her room, shut herself in the closet, and prayed for a bike as long and as hard as she could. Then she went to bed.
The next afternoon her father called her and her two sisters out to the barn where - Hallelujah! - there stood three shiny new bikes. The kindness of God gave her more than she asked for, because it even included her sisters in the bounty of joy.
But the climax of that story was not revealed till a quarter of a century later, when Michelle told her father for the first time that he had gotten those bikes right after she had prayed so hard for one. He teared up and told her, "You don't know the half of it." He explained that that morning when he checked the mailbox there was a blank envelope with three one-hundred dollar bills in it. He did not know, and does not know to this day, who put them there. He thought about paying bills with the money, and maybe a wise steward would have done just that. But he loved his longsuffering daughters, and wanted to do something special for them, and so he went to town and bought the bikes. I know this story is true, because I heard it from my sister Grace, Michelle's aunt.
Thirty-five-year-old Jennie's desperate prayer was starker than Michelle's. Jennie was deathly ill with what was later diagnosed as tularemia. She had prayed for healing but only got worse; now she just wanted to know whether she would live or die. She put a "fleece" before the Lord, like Gideon in Judges chapter 6. She prayed, "Lord, if I'm going to live, please let Laverne come over today." Laverne, Jennie's sister, occasionally stopped by to help with housework and take care of Jennie's four children.
Laverne, however, didn't come. Jennie did receive one kind visitor that day, old Mrs. Foster from church, but her sister never knocked on the door. Jennie went to bed that night thinking that if the Lord honored her request, she would need to put her affairs in order and prepare to die.
But, lying in bed, a sudden thought struck her with the force of a lightning bolt. She cried out to her husband, "Honey! Do you know what Mrs. Foster's first name is? " "Of course," he said, "Laverne." That was the only day, ever, that Laverne Foster stopped by to visit the mother of four who, three years later, became my mother too.
When my sister told me about Michelle and the miracle bike, I said, after recovering from gooseflesh, "I wonder what Michelle asked for the next week: 'Oh God! Now make it a car! I want a car this time!'." But Grace corrected me. "No, Michelle never asked like that again."
Good for her. Maybe Michelle understood that a holy moment like that was not the kind of thing that she should expect to be repeated. "Upping the ante" of a prayer like that would not be a sign of faith, but a sign of greed coupled with an effort to manipulate God.
My mother understood that too. Though she received a stunning answer to her prayer, she never again put a fleece before the Lord. She told me, "I should have just received whatever God would have chosen to give me, whether life or death. But in my weakness I had to know, and he graciously responded. I would never test him like that again though." And she advised that I never do it either.
In Letters to Malcom: Chiefly on Prayer, C. S. Lewis writes, "It would be rash to say that there is any prayer which God never grants. But the strongest candidate is the prayer we might express in the single word encore." That gets it exactly right. Christians must develop a sense of gratitude for those things that God chooses to do only once - without expecting (or, heaven forbid, demanding) that he repeat the pattern of yesterday. Look for new and different graces from the Lord.
I've been reading through the gospel of John lately, and several examples from that book come to mind. In John 6 Jesus miraculously feeds 5,000 men, but when the crowd follows him the next day looking for another meal, he refuses to give it to them, and even rebukes them. In John 11 Jesus resurrects Lazarus, who was probably killed soon afterward (see John 12:10). If Lazarus was indeed killed later, it is hard to imagine his sisters sending word to Jesus, "He's dead again. You need to come back!" Or take John 13, where Jesus assumes the role of a slave and washes his disciples' feet. How perfectly awful it would have been if, during one of his resurrection appearances, some idiot disciple approached him and said, "Hey, Jesus, glad to see you! Here's a bucket, go get yourself a towel. I'm afraid I stepped in it outside, and could really use a good cleaning."
There are some things, of course, that God does repeat. He repeats his pardon. His mercies are new every morning. I'll not test him on a one-and-done, but, for my daily offering of sin, I'll trust his daily supply of grace.
Nine-year-old Michelle wanted a bicycle very badly, though it seemed unlikely that her father, a struggling dairy farmer, could afford one. She decided one night to pray for a bike with all the spiritual effort she could muster. At church she had heard about fasting, and also that Jesus said that when you prayed you weren't supposed to tell anyone about it, but go to your closet and shut the door and pray there. (Our newer translations of Matthew 6:6 say "your room", but the old King James Version said "thy closet".) So she dismissed herself from the dinner table without eating, went to her room, shut herself in the closet, and prayed for a bike as long and as hard as she could. Then she went to bed.
The next afternoon her father called her and her two sisters out to the barn where - Hallelujah! - there stood three shiny new bikes. The kindness of God gave her more than she asked for, because it even included her sisters in the bounty of joy.
But the climax of that story was not revealed till a quarter of a century later, when Michelle told her father for the first time that he had gotten those bikes right after she had prayed so hard for one. He teared up and told her, "You don't know the half of it." He explained that that morning when he checked the mailbox there was a blank envelope with three one-hundred dollar bills in it. He did not know, and does not know to this day, who put them there. He thought about paying bills with the money, and maybe a wise steward would have done just that. But he loved his longsuffering daughters, and wanted to do something special for them, and so he went to town and bought the bikes. I know this story is true, because I heard it from my sister Grace, Michelle's aunt.
Thirty-five-year-old Jennie's desperate prayer was starker than Michelle's. Jennie was deathly ill with what was later diagnosed as tularemia. She had prayed for healing but only got worse; now she just wanted to know whether she would live or die. She put a "fleece" before the Lord, like Gideon in Judges chapter 6. She prayed, "Lord, if I'm going to live, please let Laverne come over today." Laverne, Jennie's sister, occasionally stopped by to help with housework and take care of Jennie's four children.
Laverne, however, didn't come. Jennie did receive one kind visitor that day, old Mrs. Foster from church, but her sister never knocked on the door. Jennie went to bed that night thinking that if the Lord honored her request, she would need to put her affairs in order and prepare to die.
But, lying in bed, a sudden thought struck her with the force of a lightning bolt. She cried out to her husband, "Honey! Do you know what Mrs. Foster's first name is? " "Of course," he said, "Laverne." That was the only day, ever, that Laverne Foster stopped by to visit the mother of four who, three years later, became my mother too.
When my sister told me about Michelle and the miracle bike, I said, after recovering from gooseflesh, "I wonder what Michelle asked for the next week: 'Oh God! Now make it a car! I want a car this time!'." But Grace corrected me. "No, Michelle never asked like that again."
Good for her. Maybe Michelle understood that a holy moment like that was not the kind of thing that she should expect to be repeated. "Upping the ante" of a prayer like that would not be a sign of faith, but a sign of greed coupled with an effort to manipulate God.
My mother understood that too. Though she received a stunning answer to her prayer, she never again put a fleece before the Lord. She told me, "I should have just received whatever God would have chosen to give me, whether life or death. But in my weakness I had to know, and he graciously responded. I would never test him like that again though." And she advised that I never do it either.
In Letters to Malcom: Chiefly on Prayer, C. S. Lewis writes, "It would be rash to say that there is any prayer which God never grants. But the strongest candidate is the prayer we might express in the single word encore." That gets it exactly right. Christians must develop a sense of gratitude for those things that God chooses to do only once - without expecting (or, heaven forbid, demanding) that he repeat the pattern of yesterday. Look for new and different graces from the Lord.
I've been reading through the gospel of John lately, and several examples from that book come to mind. In John 6 Jesus miraculously feeds 5,000 men, but when the crowd follows him the next day looking for another meal, he refuses to give it to them, and even rebukes them. In John 11 Jesus resurrects Lazarus, who was probably killed soon afterward (see John 12:10). If Lazarus was indeed killed later, it is hard to imagine his sisters sending word to Jesus, "He's dead again. You need to come back!" Or take John 13, where Jesus assumes the role of a slave and washes his disciples' feet. How perfectly awful it would have been if, during one of his resurrection appearances, some idiot disciple approached him and said, "Hey, Jesus, glad to see you! Here's a bucket, go get yourself a towel. I'm afraid I stepped in it outside, and could really use a good cleaning."
There are some things, of course, that God does repeat. He repeats his pardon. His mercies are new every morning. I'll not test him on a one-and-done, but, for my daily offering of sin, I'll trust his daily supply of grace.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
June 2, 2009: The Dearest Idol I Have Known
It is possible for a human being to become an idol for us.
Probably not in the literal sense, where we would actually render worship to the individual, or pray to him, or ascribe to him qualities unique to God. You see that in the Bible sometimes. In Daniel 6 King Darius, pressured by lackeys, wrote idolatry of himself into law, insisting that for 30 days no prayers be offered to any god but him. (Daniel disobeyed and got thrown to providentially meek lions.) And Herod Agrippa received worship in Acts 12:22 when a crowd heard him and cried, "The voice of a god and not a man!" He died soon afterward - it turned out he had the body of a man and not a god.
I don't think we worship people like that any more - though perhaps it is worth noting that that is one of the complaints Protestantism lays at the feet of Catholicism. Protestants detect in Catholic worship a tendency to treat Mary and other saints as gods whenever prayers are offered to them rather than through them. (And a good Protestant won't even ask a departed saint to pray for him for the simple reason that the Bible forbids communication with the dead.)
But even a conscientious Protestant can find that he has made an idol of somebody. Colossians 3:5 is instructive here: it says that greed is idolatry. Just as a greedy person puts gold in the place of God, so also someone might be tempted to put a person in the place of God. I believe that is what Jesus warned about in Luke 14:26 when he said that a man must "hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters - yes, even his own life" in order to be his disciple. Of course "hate" is not literal (we are commanded to love our enemies - how much more our family members!), but serves to illustrate the priority of Jesus first, and all earthly attachments - even family - after him.
A few months after my father died we sang at church the great William Cowper hymn, Oh For A Closer Walk With God. I recall my mother confessing to me how hard it was for her to sing the 4th stanza:
The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be
Help me to tear it from thy throne
And worship only thee.
Her eyes filled with tears as she said, "But my dearest idol was Dad!" It seemed cruel to her to have to rip him from the throne – as though he were some godless usurper of affection - when she knew him to be kind and worthy and a lover of God himself. I can't remember if I was able to say anything helpful to her, or anything at all.
A wise widow wrote to me saying that she was asking God what she could do to keep his good gifts from becoming idols to her. Her conscience likewise afflicted her about having idolized her husband, of having allowed him to take the place of God in her heart.
But I'm not convinced that either my mother or this widow were really guilty of shunting God aside and giving their husbands the honor that is due God alone. Wives are supposed to honor their husbands (Ephesians 5:33) and train younger women to love theirs (Titus 2:4). In the two churches I have pastored, I have yet to see even one woman who adored her husband the way my mom adored my dad - and I can't say I view that as a positive thing. It is not: "Good for them! See how well they resist the temptation to idolize their husbands!" but rather, "Why so little respect, deference, and spontaneous affection? Are all their men really so hard to love?"
I believe the better test of whether we have idolized someone is if we see that we have granted him or her the power to make us sin. It is not so much when we love, respect and delight in them but when we have let them lead us into wrongdoing that we have made an idol of them, and must rip them away from the throne of God. I know one man - I'm not making this up - whose young wife beguiled him away from a Sunday worship service by doing a striptease in front of him just before he was about to leave for church! She became his "golden calf" that day, standing provocatively between him and the appointed hour of worshipping the Lord.
Other forms of human idolatry will be more subtle, but I think that that spicy example demonstrates the main idea. Human idols are not merely people whom we treasure - however highly - but people whom we permit to hinder our glad submission to God.
It is possible for a human being to become an idol for us.
Probably not in the literal sense, where we would actually render worship to the individual, or pray to him, or ascribe to him qualities unique to God. You see that in the Bible sometimes. In Daniel 6 King Darius, pressured by lackeys, wrote idolatry of himself into law, insisting that for 30 days no prayers be offered to any god but him. (Daniel disobeyed and got thrown to providentially meek lions.) And Herod Agrippa received worship in Acts 12:22 when a crowd heard him and cried, "The voice of a god and not a man!" He died soon afterward - it turned out he had the body of a man and not a god.
I don't think we worship people like that any more - though perhaps it is worth noting that that is one of the complaints Protestantism lays at the feet of Catholicism. Protestants detect in Catholic worship a tendency to treat Mary and other saints as gods whenever prayers are offered to them rather than through them. (And a good Protestant won't even ask a departed saint to pray for him for the simple reason that the Bible forbids communication with the dead.)
But even a conscientious Protestant can find that he has made an idol of somebody. Colossians 3:5 is instructive here: it says that greed is idolatry. Just as a greedy person puts gold in the place of God, so also someone might be tempted to put a person in the place of God. I believe that is what Jesus warned about in Luke 14:26 when he said that a man must "hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters - yes, even his own life" in order to be his disciple. Of course "hate" is not literal (we are commanded to love our enemies - how much more our family members!), but serves to illustrate the priority of Jesus first, and all earthly attachments - even family - after him.
A few months after my father died we sang at church the great William Cowper hymn, Oh For A Closer Walk With God. I recall my mother confessing to me how hard it was for her to sing the 4th stanza:
The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be
Help me to tear it from thy throne
And worship only thee.
Her eyes filled with tears as she said, "But my dearest idol was Dad!" It seemed cruel to her to have to rip him from the throne – as though he were some godless usurper of affection - when she knew him to be kind and worthy and a lover of God himself. I can't remember if I was able to say anything helpful to her, or anything at all.
A wise widow wrote to me saying that she was asking God what she could do to keep his good gifts from becoming idols to her. Her conscience likewise afflicted her about having idolized her husband, of having allowed him to take the place of God in her heart.
But I'm not convinced that either my mother or this widow were really guilty of shunting God aside and giving their husbands the honor that is due God alone. Wives are supposed to honor their husbands (Ephesians 5:33) and train younger women to love theirs (Titus 2:4). In the two churches I have pastored, I have yet to see even one woman who adored her husband the way my mom adored my dad - and I can't say I view that as a positive thing. It is not: "Good for them! See how well they resist the temptation to idolize their husbands!" but rather, "Why so little respect, deference, and spontaneous affection? Are all their men really so hard to love?"
I believe the better test of whether we have idolized someone is if we see that we have granted him or her the power to make us sin. It is not so much when we love, respect and delight in them but when we have let them lead us into wrongdoing that we have made an idol of them, and must rip them away from the throne of God. I know one man - I'm not making this up - whose young wife beguiled him away from a Sunday worship service by doing a striptease in front of him just before he was about to leave for church! She became his "golden calf" that day, standing provocatively between him and the appointed hour of worshipping the Lord.
Other forms of human idolatry will be more subtle, but I think that that spicy example demonstrates the main idea. Human idols are not merely people whom we treasure - however highly - but people whom we permit to hinder our glad submission to God.
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