Spot your Idol
Mark Greene reflects on the idols of our time and wonders whether he and we are quite as distressed as Paul was by their ubiquity, absurdity and corrosive power.
What annoys you? Gets your goat? Makes you froth and fulminate? What distresses you? Perhaps it’s reality TV. Perhaps it’s the litter on our streets, the graffiti on our trees, the ‘social abortions’ in our hospitals, the genocide in Darfur, the oppressive work patterns of our time, the sexualisation of our children, the moral decay of football, or the outrage of having to pay 40p to park your car in your own town.
Paul was ‘greatly distressed’ by idolatry. It would be easy in 21st century Britain to think that idolatry is not a major issue for us, that there aren’t many idols around, at least not idols in the same form as Paul would have seen them – statues and cultic objects – except of course in Hindu and Sikh temples.
But idols abound in our culture and snuggle down in the ventricles of our hearts.
An idol is anyone or anything that sets itself up as a rival to the King of Kings, any religion that demotes Christ from the throne – Hinduism, Islam, Sikhism, Judaism. An idol is any God-substitute, anything or anyone we value above God – our children, our spouses, our cars, our jobs, our money, our football team, our appearance, our status, our church, our education, our targets, our trainers. Ourselves. Myself: my own arrogant little belief that I know better than God.
Idols abound in our culture and snuggle down in the ventricles of our hearts.
Paul’s reaction to the idols that he saw in Athens (Acts 17) was to be ‘greatly distressed.’ Paul had seen idols before – all over Greece, all over Asia Minor, and no doubt Athens was idol-rich. It not only boasted the great Temple to Athena that still dominates the city, not only a whole range of statuary of gods but also myriads of herms – cultic objects reflecting a range of pagan rites. Paul had seen it all before but he had not become indifferent to the idolatry he saw. He remained ‘greatly distressed.’
Indeed, his distress is not just an instant, visceral disgust which produced a short-term outrage but a deeper outrage that generated an ongoing and determined response. The word used for ‘greatly distressed’ is used in the Greek translations of the Old Testament to apply to God’s reaction to idolatry. So, for example, when the Israelites make the golden calf, God is ‘provoked’, distressed to anger, grief and indignation. Paul’s response is one of anger, grief, indignation at the affront to God’s name.
This isn’t a reaction to a one-off insulting TV programme like Jerry Springer the Opera, it’s a reaction to all the ways in which false gods manifested themselves in the culture. Research reveals that the vast majority of people in this country are spiritual, but the vast majority have not put the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in the No 1 spot in their lives. They’ve put something or someone else there.
Idols abound in our nation and snuggle down in the ventricles of our hearts.
At root, idolatry is an outrageous rebellion against the true and living God. It’s a heart that hasn’t bowed to Jesus. An idol usurps God’s place – like a common thief sitting on a King’s throne; like a whore having sex in your parents’ bed. How dare she? That’s not your place. Get out of there. An idol is an insult to God’s honour – like someone insulting your mother. Indeed, as John Stott points out, the major motive for mission is not the destiny of the lost but the honour of God’s name. Yes, obedience to the Great Commission is part of our motivation. Yes, compassion for the lost and for the victims of idolatry is part of our motivation but as he puts it, “The highest incentive of all is zeal or jealousy for the glory of Jesus Christ. God has promoted him to the supreme place of honour, in order that every knee and tongue should acknowledge his lordship. Whenever he is denied his rightful place in people’s lives, therefore, we should feel inwardly wounded, and jealous for his name. As Henry Martyn expressed it in Moslem Persia at the beginning of the last century, ‘I could not endure existence if Jesus was not glorified; it would be hell to me, if he were to be always…dishonoured.’
Similarly, though Paul has seen idols all over the ancient world, he hasn’t become indifferent to them. They still provoke him because they are a defiant insult against the living God who created him and loved him and whose Son gave his life for him.
I wonder whether we retain that sense of outrage at anything that usurps God’s rightful supreme place of honour. Or have we become desensitised, indifferent to the affront, indifferent to the prostitute in our parents’ bed, the turd on the prince’s throne? Do we notice the idolatry on our billboards? The defiance in our TV programmes? The vaunting of Mammon over all in our workplace practices?
Idolatry is, however, not just an insult against God, it is a vain, futile attempt to meet needs that only God can meet.
All human beings are created with the need for relationship and the need for purpose/significance. Those needs can only be satisfied in God. In Jeremiah 2:13, God expresses it this way:
“My people have committed two sins:
They have forsaken me,
the spring of living water,
and have dug their own cisterns,
broken cisterns that cannot hold water.”
God is like a spring of living water – a constant supply of water, bubbling up, fresh – looks good, tastes good and by Golly it does you good. But His people reject His water. But of course they are still thirsty so they have to go to all the effort of digging their own cisterns, where the water isn’t flowing and fresh but simply stands and goes stale, stagnant, brackish. What’s more the cisterns leak, the water runs out. It doesn’t quench the thirst. If we don’t seek to meet our needs in God, we will seek to meet them in something else.
How do we seek to satisfy our thirst for God in our society?
One of the primary mechanisms is to take a good thing and turn it into a god-thing.
For example, we legitimately yearn for purpose but elevate a good, god-ordained activity like work to become the defining centre of our lives. Or we throw ourselves into church activities to the point where they become more important than the God we purport to serve. Or we leisurely allow a legitimate enthusiasm like football to become the centre point of what we do and who we are, to the point where you see coffins bedecked with flowers shaped in the name of people’s favourite football teams.
We yearn for relational intimacy – to know and be known – but grope for it through multiple sexual partners. We reach for the transcendence that only God can bring through drugs, drink, or new age rites. We go shopping for self-worth and affirmation from others through the acquisition of things and the display of logos. Indeed, we live in a nation where it is possible to be “Ashamed of our mobile.”
We have been suckered into a consumerism that has made us:
Ashamed of our mobile,
Ashamed of our profile,
Ashamed of our thin lips,
Ashamed of our thick hips,
Ashamed of our smallish breasts,
Ashamed of our hairless chests,
Ashamed of our unfashionable specs,
Ashamed of our flabby pecs,
Ashamed of our multi-fold belly
Ashamed of our narrow-screen telly.
Today there is no physical attribute that we have and no physical object that we own that cannot become the cause of social shame.
Now, of course, the idea that anyone could locate self-worth in a brand of cola or trainers or could possibly be ashamed of a piece of technology that allows you to communicate instantly with a billion people on the planet is only credible in an idolatrous culture. But it is credible.
It is the privilege of God to assign worth to his creatures and if a thing has the power to make me feel worthy or unworthy then it has turned into a god. That’s what a Nike or a BMW or a Levi's logo can easily become. Our happiness literally hanging by a thread.
And that is what much contemporary advertising and marketing and celebrity, lifestyle, make-over TV has done – created idols – things, logos, experiences that we make huge sacrifices to in order to receive affirmation from our peers. We sacrifice money, we sacrifice our time to acquire the money, we sacrifice our relationships, we sacrifice our marriages, we sacrifice our children.
What else is the huge level of personal debt that UK citizens are burdened by than the proof that the acquisition of material things is not primarily about buying things we don’t need but about trying to quench our real, god-created needs for acceptance and significance?
Don’t people know that it is folly to generate debt at such high levels? Of course, they do – logically.
Don’t they know that it is folly to sacrifice time with their friends and partners and children on the altar of a bigger car that they hardly have time to drive? Or the third TV that brings momentary gratitude from a child but only serves to create long-term alienation? Or the lovely two week annual family holiday that was bought by sacrificing 48 weeks of daily time together, sharing the joys and challenges of the day that just passed?
Idols abound in our culture and they snuggle down in the ventricles of our hearts and they drink our life blood.
Idolatry hurts people. That’s why God forbids it in the second commandment.
It makes kids who don’t have the right clothes deliberately miss school on non-uniform day – why go into school to be humiliated by your ‘friends’? Their happiness literally hanging by a thread. No tick, no affirmation.
Idolatry hurts people – it makes us put Mammon before relationships, our social ease before the needs of the poor, our nation’s affluence before the starvation of others. Why are you valuable? Because you bought a L’Oreal shampoo. No, because you were created by the King of the Universe – in His image. How do you know you are valuable? Because the Son of the King of the Universe died for you and wants to spend eternity with you. Why did he do that?
Are we greatly distressed by these idols that usurp God’s rightful place and demand rites of worship that corrode relationships, steal our joy, and destroy our planet? Or have we got used to them?
Are we de-sensitised? Resigned? Do we feel that we can’t do anything about them? It’s just the way things are.
How does Paul respond to the idols of his time?
Well he doesn’t accept that the way things are is the way things have to be. Paul wants God’s kingdom to come, His will to be done on earth as it is heaven, in Jerusalem as it in heaven, in Athens as it is heaven, his will to be done in Manchester as it is heaven, in your street as it is heaven, in your home as it is in heaven, in your college as it is in heaven, in your workplace as it is in heaven. Paul has his marching orders: “…go and make disciples of all nations.” Paul will not let sleeping idols lie. He’s trying to be yeast in the dough, an agent of God’s transformation in the world.
So what does Paul do? Does he take a hammer and smash the idols down? Does he froth and fulminate? What is Paul’s breakthrough innovative evangelistic technique? What new technology does he bring to bear? What new form of prophetic drama? What miracles does he do?
He does something radical – he talks to people.
As it says in Acts 17: 17, he reasoned with people. He does not seek to topple the idols in the temples but to topple the idols in people’s minds. And he reasons with them using the Gospel.
The antidote to idolatry is evangelism.
Paul pulls down the idols and raises up the king. Some of the reasoning he would have used is there in his address to the Areopagus, Acts 17:22-34. And exploring that is perhaps a subject for another time. But what is clear is Paul’s focused intent. He creates contexts where he can dialogue with people. As a visitor to the City, he, unlike us in our everyday lives, doesn’t have work colleagues or a friendship network, so he goes to the places where people gather - the synagogues, the marketplace – the cafes, the pubs, the wine bars, the book groups of his time. Most of us, however, know lots of people already and the idols abound – in corporate priorities, in discussions about TV programmes, in chats about holidays, and cars, and education, and what to buy the kids for Christmas.
Paul’s primary technique is not to make speeches but to get into purposeful conversations with people. And that is something we all can do – over a sandwich at our desks, in the canteen, in the kitchen, walking to the train station, down the pub, over a meal… in the way that suits you and the culture you’re in or the workplace you’re in.
Idols abound in our nation and they snuggle down in the ventricles of our hearts and drink our blood. They are vile and pernicious and an ugly, defiant affront to the honour of the High King of Heaven. But if we’re to pull down the idols in our nation, we need to flush them out of our own hearts too. Have you spotted yours? The things you love a bit too much. The things you fear a bit too much. I’m not at all sure I’ve spotted all mine.
Questions
In what ways do you seek to meet your needs for relationship/intimacy and purpose/significance in your life?
What are the things or people you love most or the things or people you fear most? Have they become idols? Able to influence your actions?
What are the idols in your workplace or college?
What are the idols in the lives of your good friends – Christian and non-Christian?
What do you think the main idols are in our culture? How far are you influenced by them?
How would you go about reasoning against one of these idols?
This article first appeared in Christianity & Renewal and is reproduced by kind permission.
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