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Reference

Exodus 32:1-14
“Of Mobs and Idols”

Exodus 32:1-14  “Of Mobs and Idols” 

A slight disclaimer: What follows is the basic text (minus the occasional digressions) of a sermon that I preached at Comox United Church, Comox, B.C. on February 20, 2022. It is not an essay.  It is written to be spoken and in a manner that reflects my preaching style, which I suspect might be described as “informal.” Nor does it have the full assortment of citations, acknowledgements, and footnotes normally (and quite reasonably) expected in a more formal work.  Please forgive the grammatical peculiarities! Blessings Phil Spencer    

As noted at the beginning of the service, we’re in the midst of Black History Month in Canada, a time when we recognize and honour the contributions of people of African descent in and to our country. As it is in the recognition of different communities within the whole of the larger society, we’re very much in the territory that has been the reality of the Church since its birth, two millennia past. I’m referring, of course, to the notion of diversity, and learning to appreciate and value what can be the richness and beauty in differences, distinctiveness, variety in culture, identification, appearance, choices, world-view, and much more. On those hopefully-rare occasions when appreciation is challenging, when we’re on our game and when the differences aren’t perceived to be utterly beyond coexistence in the same place of worship, we seek to at least find a place of toleration of difference. Our goal is in the finding of places where we can still effectively be together as sisters and brothers in the faith we claim, and following the One whose name we bear. This is a critical concern: where we differ, can we find a way to still be together?  

As I say that I’m well aware that this isn’t theoretical for us as a nation right now and as we have in the past, we look for ways to be together. But for those of us specifically who follow Christ, who are within the Church, it’s worth remembering Jesus’ prayer the night before he died, which was for unity, for he so wanted unity for his disciples, unity in our inevitable diversity. This has been our story—and a demanding and at times, uncomfortable element of the story—of the Church. It has been our story since Peter preached his first sermon on Pentecost, and surely an element of the story of Jesus’ disciples as they followed him around Galilee over those years together prior. If you want a picture of cultural and ethnic diversity (and, yes, some the associated friction and challenges), then read the New Testament because this is a theme throughout that document. I knew before I came to Comox United—and this perception has only become more firm since coming here—that the encouragement of the church in being a place where people of different backgrounds are welcome has been, and remains, a critical mission theme for this congregation. The first thing you see on the website in large font is “All Are Welcome” followed by an exclamation mark! I know that you’re earnestly trying to live into that generous statement. Indeed, it’s an extraordinary thing when everyone can be together, when we can be of one heart and one mind, even in our differences. That smells of Jesus to me, and as I hope you’ve picked up on by now, for better or worse, for me that’s pretty much a basic standard of measurement: does it smell like, does it in some way remind you of Jesus?  

For today, however, I’d like us to look at the other side of being together in one heart and mind. Sometimes—as the warnings on the edge of those old maps suggested—"there be dragons.” Let me unpack that a bit.  

As you know, reading the Bible can at times be a bit tricky, if only because we’re being asked to juggle a number of concerns at once. For example, it’s helpful to know a bit of history to understand what’s going on, and to have some appreciation for some rather different cultures and world views present, to remember that the words on the page are translated from different languages, and translation’s often a complicated business—words meaning different things in different societies at different times. It’s good to be aware that the range of authors (and there’s lots of them in the Bible) are trying to accomplish different things when they did their writing. On top of that there are the multiple genres of literature—there’s poetry and history and prophecy and letters and more—and just as you don’t quite read a mystery novel the same way you, say, read a cook book, don’t read a service manual the same way you read song lyrics, that’s no less true reading the Scriptures, because they’re a mixture of different kinds of writing. While it’s right to say that Bible reading is certainly something we can all do, we benefit from doing with it what we do with any other piece of literature: that we read with a little discernment.  

Now it’s confession time: I know that one of the things that challenges my own discernment now and then is arrogance, some condescension, that perverse sense of superiority that sometimes bubbles up when I read some parts of the Biblical story. For me it’s sometimes revealed like this: I’ll be hearing a Scripture passage read aloud or reading it on my own and I’ll find myself thinking, “What kind of fool would do that?” or words to that effect. Has this crossed your mind or am I alone in this? It’s the occasional moment of “What on earth were they thinking?” Then I’m tempted to put it all down to the indisputable fact that we humans today are much smarter and far more sophisticated than those poor shlubs, the Biblical characters some 2 and 3 thousand years ago, that in some way we’re more “evolved,” right? Well, it’s indisputable that we do possess more scientific knowledge, we do have a wider understanding of all sorts of things, and what I don’t know I can usually access in seconds with my phone. The problem here is that this attitude subtly allows me to dismiss the ancient’s experience or action as a kind of historical curiosity because, hey … I’m smarter. A phrase I’ve heard somewhere that describes this phenomenon is “the arrogance of modernity,” the practice of looking at the past and (at least to some extent) dismissing our fore-parent’s thoughts, beliefs, and actions as just those coming from a “simpler time,” by which we really mean a more crude, unsophisticated, and less intelligent time.  

This is an easy mindset to slip into—at least, I find it so. It is until I stop to think of some of the remarkably daft things (someone so clearly at the pinnacle of human development!) stop to think of some of the remarkably foolish things, sinful things even, that I have thought, said, and done.

And my friends have thought, said, and done.

That those we call experts have thought, said, and done.

That my country has thought, said, and done.

That my Church has thought, said, and done.

Residential schools. The confiscation of Japanese-Canadian property during the Second World War. Slavery (yes, even in Canada). Segregation (yes, even in Canada). Head taxes. Discriminatory immigration policies. Destruction of our environment. The temptation to read the pages of Scripture and view the characters and situations and events as distant and quaint is strong and—I’d suggest—dangerous. We may have a broader knowledge of the natural order today, but there’s a problem. Do we seriously think that human character, that our fundamental predispositions have changed all that much over the last couple of thousand years?  Are we inherently that much better, somehow more virtuous than our forebears? Your mileage may vary, but I’m not so convinced. Desire for power, demands for conformity, lust, fear, demonization of those who are perceived as different, as “the other,” these are Biblical struggles, and they remain current struggles. So, let’s look at today’s reading and the issue of idolatry and the challenges—not of diversity—but the challenge of conformity, of what can sometimes happen when we find ourselves in agreement, in being of one heart and mind.  

I find that it’s mind-boggling, that they could actually worship a golden calf (and specifically, why a calf?), an idol that they made with their own hands, revering an inanimate object! It’s completely and utterly baffling to me! What on earth were they thinking? Those pathetic and backward fools!  

As an unrelated aside: when I got this iPhone when it was the fastest and most sophisticated iPhone on the market, that is, for about 8 months, after which Apple began selling an even more advanced one! Which I immediately wanted. No, needed.  

I admit to having long-struggled with the issue of idolatry presented in the Hebrew Scriptures. It seems so obviously wrong-headed to worship a false god, something made of metal or stone or wood, something so obviously not God, and yet it’s clear that the people of Israel really struggled with it, because it happened over and over. The temptation toward idolatry was so strong that God made, as the first two Commandments—not Commandments 9 and 10—but the very first two of the 10 Commandments. They were:

1.    Don’t be having any other gods before me, and …

2.    Don’t you be making any idols.

God knew of this proclivity, not just in the people who’d been brought out of slavery, but in human character, in the human heart, in my heart and in yours, for you and I are created to worship. We’re always going to worship something, and this is hard-wired into us, hence we also might have this inclination to worship at altars other than the altar of the One True God. As you Urban Cowboy fans (yep, dating myself again) will remember country singer Johnny Lee intoning some 40-plus years ago, we have this habit of “looking for love in all the wrong places.” Hence 12 chapters before our reading from Exodus this morning, God gave Moses this pair of commandments as the first in what was surely the original “top 10 list.” In the chapters afterward, that was followed up with a carefully spelled out code of conduct, after-which the people of Israel then vowed, “Everything God said we’re going to do!”[1]  Yet, here they are in chapter 32 breaking both of the first commandments!  

Then again, maybe we shouldn’t be too hard on them. After all, Moses had been away for quite a while and Moses had been functioning as this intermediary between God and the people, people who had been promised a land of their own—finally!  However, they were experiencing a longer-than-expected journey to-said-destination. Yes, they had the basics for survival on their trip—food, water, shelter—but we all know that “the basics” rarely ever stay enough, because after a while basics tend to become a “given,” an expectation (Aside: hHow could I live without my iPhone? I’m thinking that the government should just give me one ….). There’s always a newer model that does a little more, always just a little more that we realize we really do need.  

The former Hebrew slaves were dearly missing the steadying influence of Moses—sheep without a shepherd, as it were. This led to some spiritual wandering and a rising concern as to why Moses was taking so long. In absence of an answer to this question of Moses’ delay, they come to Moses’ second-in-command, his brother Aaron, who as best as I can see, functioned a bit like his press secretary. When Aaron had Moses’ words he was very effective, but without Moses’ presence there seemed to have been a bit of a drop-off in the wisdom department. He was brilliant at delivery but wanting when it came to developing policy. The people come to Aaron and they say, “Looks like Moses has taken a runner,” and then the words that make many-a church leader’s blood run cold:

“A number of the congregation have been talking in the parking lot and we’ve formed an ad-hoc committee. We believe that we should melt down our jewelry and whip up a new god, a god we can actually see this time and not some dubious invisible God. And after some extensive consultation, a task group of the Working Sub-committee on Replacement Deities has decided that something bovine would be just the ticket. Here’s our design for a golden calf—could you please get on that?”

Aaron agrees to the plan—and we wonder, what the heck was he thinking? Was he just capitulating to the mob, was he afraid, or was he doing what leaders sometimes do: running to the front of the line and claiming ownership? If I was in his position, would I have the courage to defy the mob? That a leader would agree to the clearly wrong-headed wishes of those she or he leads is absurd! On the other hand, in some times and places they call that “democracy,” don’t they? Large groups in the heat of the moment can sometimes make poor decisions, occasionally even a democracy can go astray, and important lines are crossed.  

Aaron, perhaps against his better judgment, perhaps because he was afraid, agrees. They create the idol, and they begin to worship by having bang-up party with an impressive buffet, a lot of oh-be-joyful, all the while doing some revisionist history in declaring that this is the god who freed them from slavery in Egypt. “Good to be at the Church of the Golden Calf and I’ll have another glass of bubbly, thank you very much.” What follows next is (for me, anyway) absolutely fascinating. God sees this and—shocking no one—isn’t impressed, telling Moses that there’s going to be a complete reboot of the plan to create a great nation out of this faithless gang. But then Moses intercedes imploring a change in God’s mind. God does, which raises some truly intriguing questions about God which I won’t even attempt to address this morning. There’s a lot going on in this text!  

But for this time together, I’d like us to briefly consider this difficulty we have with idolatry—whom or what we worship—and not so much the people of Israel, who are far closer to us than we sometimes like to acknowledge, but for us. Idols are those things that we turn to, that we worship that aren’t the One True God. Idols compete with our allegiance to God, and frankly, idol worship can sneak up on us—and I know I’m not always vigilant about how they can function in my life. But if I look closely and carefully, I can discern some things that I’m regularly tempted to trust more than God. It won’t be a “one of,” but something that will—with surprising regularity—try to compete with, and replace my trust in God, compete with and replace my desire to follow Jesus, to compete with and replace my day-to-day, moment-to-moment reliance on the Holy Spirit. This can happen in a variety of ways but let me share with you just a few of the idols that I’m tempted to worship.  

The first is the most obvious—stuff! We live in a world where “stuff” (material things) are worshiped with a fervor and a consistency that’s profound. If there’s an authentic Canadian Idol, I figure it’s stuff, it’s “things.” And when do you have enough stuff (aside from bicycles, guitars, and shoes which are necessities and therefore exempt!) but what’s “enough” material wealth? I’d also suggest that a corollary or related issue to “stuff” is “security,” and if we have enough stuff then we’ll have security. I’ve discovered that this is one of the big retirement things: will I have enough stuff to give me security as I age? Retirees here will know the other security-related worry about our golden years: will I have the health to enjoy them as I, hopefully, cycle off into eternity?  

Speaking of popping off (that’s how my now departed Dad referred to death—“when I pop off, Phil”), when I die, what legacy will I leave behind? Not a lot of “stuff,” methinks, but perhaps I’ll leave behind another idol: success. As one controversial figure to the south of us used to occasionally pronounce: “So much winning.” My legacy! My mark on this world! “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”[2] And no, this isn’t about fully embracing the mission God’s given each of us as Jesus’ people, but it’s about leaving that personal mark that will make us memorable to someone other than God. Success can become an idol that can consume us.  

This brings me to another related idol: me. Me: my independence, my health, my looks, my influence. We get the term narcissist from the ancient Greek myth of Narcissus who was so obsessed with his own beauty—to the exclusion of anyone else—that he fell in love with his own reflection and, unable to look elsewhere, he died. He worshipped himself and there was nothing else. 

Another idol: family. I so get this one, because I love my family with a passion, and I believe that this is a drive given to us by God, for it can reveal to us a glimpse of just a tiny portion of the love that God has for us. I mean, our God actually died for us—no greater love has anyone but to give their life for the other—and our God did that, and in my better moments, I look at my family and get a fleeting sense of that love, that other-centredness. But sometimes that love for family—like love of country, love of home—can mutate, can shift into something far less noble, even to the point of competing with, and on occasion, replacing God.  

The Church can also be transformed into an idol. Certain practices becoming hyper-important, helpful guidelines becoming life-crushing laws, the surface activities of the Christian life becoming a replacement for an authentic relationship with the God who seeks to be in conversation with us, to walk with us, and be with us in a not-so-dissimilar way that we have already in relationships with friends and family.  

You could add to this list I’m sure, for there are potential golden calves all around us. And because there are idols in us and around us, some we see and some we don’t see, we gather together here regularly to clear our eyes, as it where, not simply to “praise God” (for there seem to be lots of gods, lots of idols that we’re drawn to praise), but to praise and worship a most singular God, the One True God. This is the God who led the Hebrew people out of slavery and into freedom and who continues to lead us out of slavery and into freedom. This is the God who came to be with us—who chose to become one of us and live among us, the God who the prophet Isaiah declared would “be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,”[3] and whom we recognize as none other than the Lord Jesus Christ. This is the God whose Spirit still moves amongst us, who may’ve even been making us uncomfortable this morning, perhaps creating some “holy discontent” but who is empowering us and leading us and drawing us more deeply into the very Kingdom that is shimmering into view all around us. This is the God we trust. This is the God we worship, the God to whom one day, every knee shall bow and every tongue confess. And to that, I say, thanks be to God. Amen.

[1] Exodus 24:3

[2] Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ozymandias

[3] Isaiah 9:6