from the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship and Congregational and Ministry Studies at Calvin College

Posts Tagged ‘idolatry’

|

Craving to be Adored

Friday, October 29th, 2010

‘The longer I live, the more I become convinced three things are true: 1. God does exist 2. I am not God. 3. The first two points are worth remembering—always.”

Wise words from an aged Roman Catholic priest.

How easy to slip into the sin of what St. Paul terms “thinking too highly of ourselves.” We “push our way to the front,” becoming “obsessed with getting [our] own advantage.” (cf. Philippians 2, The Message). Foolishly, we imagine the entire universe revolves around us.

Experts have a name for such an illusion about one’s grandiosity. It’s called NPD: Narcissistic Personality Disorder. “A narcissist’s adoration of himself,” says David Brooks, “is his most precious possession. It is the holy center of all that is sacred and right…If someone threatens his reputation, he regards this as an act of blasphemy.” A narcissist reckons he himself is supreme. He thinks he’s God, and, vice versa, that God is he himself.

It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to identify narcissism’s presenting symptoms. All it takes is an honest and careful look within one’s own soul. Anyone who’s brave —and honest—enough to have a sober look inside his proud and swollen chest soon discovers a heart pumping forth a steady stream of self-centeredness. Its telltale marks:

  • Exalted sense of one’s own importance
  • Fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
  • Feeling of entitlement to link up with other special, high-status people (or institutions)
  • Ego that thinks it deserves other people’s admiration—even their worship
  • Willing eagerness to use others to one’s own advantage or ends
  • Little concern for the feelings and needs of others
  • Haughtiness of thinking and action

John Calvin is correct: “Every one of us is, even from our mother’s womb, a master craftsman of idols.” Among our fondest idols, claims Calvin, is the false god called “Self-Exaltation.” “For, such is the blindness with which we all rush into self-love that each one of us seems to himself to have just cause to be proud of himself, and to despise all others in comparison….Thus, each individual, by flattering himself, bears a kind of kingdom in his breast.”

Neighbors of a narcissist may be irked, perhaps even repulsed, by his tireless efforts to magnify himself at their expense. But that is nothing compared to what God thinks of such a person. God hates human attempts at self-exaltation—he loathes them, abhors them, considers them abominable. Why such strong Divine disgust? Because self-love keeps a person from acknowledging God for who God is—namely, God alone. It prevents a person from offering God due worship and service. As Calvin puts it, “There is no worse screen to block out the Spirit of God than confidence in our own intelligence.” Thus, God will thwart—always—anyone who makes assault upon God’s very holiness, who vainly tries to sit where God sits.

The best antidote to (my) incessant tendencies toward narcissism? It is to set my mind and heart, carefully and intentionally, toward God, and to direct my steps toward “the sanctuary,” God’s dwelling place (cf Psalm 73.17). In other words, make it a priority to get to church and to worship God regularly.

For it is precisely there—“in the sanctuary,”—that I can “get the whole picture”,again. It is there that I am (appropriately) brought up short. It is there I hear the reminder that I, too, participate in humanity’s frantic “endless struggle to think well of ourselves” (T.S Eliot), and thus must make daily effort “to tear out [my own] self-love by its very roots,” (John Calvin). It is there I can see how perilously “slippery” the road is on which those who fail to acknowledge God are walking, and how life-threatening is the “ditch of delusions” into which they’ve slid. It is there I can hear God’s bracing assessment of NPD’s: “There’s nothing to them. And there never was.” (Psalm 73.20)

But in the sanctuary I can learn, too, about the (only) way out of that ditch of delusions, and be invited to walk a safer, more sure-footed path. There my head can become clear again, and my heart becomes set right. There I hear of Jesus’ work to save me from myself and my heap of foolish delusions. There I receive assurance of his Spirit’s presence to empower me to live as my Savior and Lord did, selflessly and in service to others.

“In the sanctuary,” God sounds a clarion call to his people: “You shall have no other gods in place of me.” His words are a warm invitation: God is bidding his children to adore One far more worthy and satisfying than themselves. His words are also an uncompromising command: He is warning that the consequences of not doing so are dire.

Prayer

O Lord, grant me heavenly wisdom, that I may learn above all things to seek and to find thee, above all things to relish and to love thee, and to understand all other things as they are, according to the order of thy wisdom.Thomas a KempisImitation of Christ15th century

Prone to Wander

Friday, September 24th, 2010

Rarely—almost never—do married persons make it their aim to get into an extra-marital relationship—to have an “affair.” Far more often, I suspect, they find that they’ve slipped into one, the result of having taken a fairly lengthy path of small, unintended steps. But the sad consequence—the decisive consequence— is always the same: They discover that their heart, which once was brimming with affection for their spouse, has now become drained of delight and joy over her or him. (Even though, of course, for appearance’s sake, they may try to keep up the polite externals of the relationship, acting out —on cue—its correct rituals and doing its appropriate duties.)

While all of this is happening, something else is taking place: the very affection which once flowed generously and freely toward their spouse, now gets redirected—siphoned off, as it were—and sent flowing in the direction of another person.

All of this takes place gradually and by tiny degrees, of course. Love and affection for the spouse slowly oozes away; love and affection for another slowly swells.

The same thing can happen in people’s relationship to God. The hymn writer called it “wandering”: “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.”

The Bible calls the result of such wandering idolatry. Idolatry isn’t merely erecting some tangible, concrete image—a carved statue, a painting, or whatever—and then overtly venerating it. In fact, there need not be something concrete to bow down to at all. Idolatry happens when one values something too highly, expects miracles from it, and puts it in place of God.

Idols come in a variety of shapes and sizes nowadays: body image, work, relationships, athleticism, dreams for retirement, fame and applause, family, and power (intellectual, political, ecclesiastical, financial, etc.)—to name but a very few. The list is almost inexhaustibly long, for every person fondly crafts and keeps adding to his own set of preferred paganisms.

Make no mistake: Idols do have power. The lesser gods and goddesses of the 21st century continue to be ravenously hungry for our heart’s devotion. False gods still make high bid for our heart’s native desire to offer worship. Their determination to block us from living as fully and as humanly as God intends is unwearied.

But make no mistake about this, too: Idols do disappoint—unfailingly so. Foolishly and in vain, therefore, we keep offering them our heart’s devotion. We expect too much from them. We imagine they can deliver to us the miracles that only God himself can bring—new life, fresh hope, enduring purpose, deep-down and lasting joy.

Remember, too, that it’s as hard to spot a potential idol in our lives as it is to resist one once it’s been made and put on pedestal. The eyes of our hearts are too weak and short-sighted to see idols for what they really are: life-threatening dangers, and not merely innocuous playthings to which we once in a while go a bit overboard in offering them time, money, and attention. Os Guinness, keen Christian observer and critic of today’s culture, says: “Contemporary evangelicals are little better at recognizing and resisting idols than modern secular people are.” Thus he adds: “There can be no believing communities without an unswerving eye to the detection and destruction of idols.”

Which is another reason why we need to keep congregating as Christians in corporate worship. Doing so, we can become reoriented again. Before God’s face and in the presence of fellow believers, we can realign our priorities, set our heart’s allegiances right again.

No human being can optimally guard and tend her heart alone. We need one another—and we need our Lord—in order to hear well his command, “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus. 20:3); in order to receive strength and determination to flush away our heart’s fondest idols; in order to refill our hearts with fresh affection for God again, and pledge to worship and serve him alone.

For it is in the sanctuary—that is, before the face of God and among his people—that we learn best to pray, “O Lord, above all things, help us to seek you and to know you; above all things, to relish and to love you; and to order all things as they are according to your wisdom” (Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ).

God must take full precedence. Everything else must follow after. No less than everything.

Prayer

O God, who lovest us, set our loves in order.

Thomas Aquinas13th century
|