lovable little idols

I used to think that idols were only worshipped by Hebrews. As a child my father read the Old Testament with us and I thought, "Silly Israelites, why do they worship stones and poles? Baal and Ashtoreth are so lame." I was mortified and grossed out to find that their worship of foreign gods included child sacrifice and sexual orgies...and come on, couldn't Aaron have thought of another attractive, powerful animal to cast rather than a cow?

I bought into the lie; we are so much more cultured and refined in our day. We might as well have the 9 commandments because no one struggles with idols anymore.

Unfortunately, like Rachel, I was sitting on my own idols...hiding them from my Heavenly Father. How many shrines did I erect for horses, dolls, and teddy bears? How many times did I pore over toy magazines like holy scriptures, seeking the hidden truths of wealth, power, and possession?

I remember one internal battle that I fought and lost. I reflected on a difficult question: Would I give away my doll to a poor girl, would I give away my doll for the sake of Christ? I would have said yes out loud to save face, but I knew I couldn't, and I hoped I wouldn't have to. Even as a girl I knew that I was the rich man, I couldn't sell all.

One day, when my mom was going through our toys to get rid of the excess, I began to sing the praises of my teddy bear Snowball, who had been a good friend and companion to me during creepy nights on my bunk bed. My mom, with classic bluntness replied, "You realize that at the end of the world, after Jesus comes back, Snowball is going to burn." I was horrified. I had visions of an earth on fire, and the red flames were licking the face of my beloved bear. I was traumatized at first, but that day began my letting go process, and I began to deal with my grief. Grieving the death of my god.

We worship little gods everyday. The gods of convenience, gods of pleasure, gods of power, gods of style. Why do we do this? Why do we worship frail things made of dust, made by the Creator, or at worst, made by ourselves? Can anyone imagine God creating Adam and rather than saying His work was good, falling upon His holy face in awe at His creation? I don't think so. Then why do I worship clothes and toys made in China?

We go to tanning beds, when the true sun is outside. We watch relationships on tv, and sit next to the real people we love. We worship at the altars of me, and reject the One who made us. We seek the immediate satisfaction of an idol who is there, and the reject the God who is everywhere...calling our names, and waiting for us to come home.