When I read scripture, sometimes I am filled with the awareness of my shortcomings.  The commands to live in love and righteousness remind me of my flaws and selfishness.  More than this, when I compare myself with the great heroes of the faith like Abraham, and Moses, and the apostles, I don’t look so good.  Compared to them I am a timid, tepid follower-at-a-distance kind of disciple of Jesus.

At other times, though, I feel decidedly superior to the characters in the biblical stories.  Frequently, as I read of the infidelity and grumbling of the Hebrews in the desert, I just shake my head in disbelief.  How could these folk, delivered from slavery and miraculously sustained by God every step along their way, ever doubt the power and goodness of God?

And then, in moments of sanity and honesty, I realize that their story is mine.  Someone reading my life story, told with objectivity, would also stand amazed at my ingratitude and unfaithfulness that seems impossible to square with the blessings and providence of God in my life.  I know I’m not unique.  This is our human story. 

The story of the golden calf portrays vividly the way people can swing from promises of faithful obedience to idolatry. 

The idolatry of the people comes from their fear.  Moses has gone up the mountain to receive instruction from God.  But he has been gone 40 days!  The people fear he is never coming back.  They fear that God has abandoned them too.

God is invisible, maybe long gone for all they know.  But the desert and all its attendant risks are clearly visible everywhere they look.  They figure they need a visible god, one less scary and hard to figure out than the God they encountered on Sinai.  So, they fashion a golden calf and give it their worship and offer sacrifices.

Waiting and trusting in an unseen mysterious God is hard.  Most of us do it poorly.

It is much easier to transfer our trust to something tangible, visible, and subject to our control.  We place our trust in our bank balance and the state of our 401K.   We place our trust in a person – maybe a lover or maybe a leader.  We rely on them to meet our needs for belonging and certainty; we count on them to ascribe value to us.  We place our trust in our own skill and smarts.  We vest our hope for the future in our ability to build a desirable life.

Our fear and idolatry is not an intentional betrayal of God, but it is a betrayal nonetheless.  We don’t realize how much we make gods of our financial security, or human loyalties, or our own abilities until they fail.  And fail they will.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with prudent investments or loving relationships or the pursuit of personal excellence.  But we need to stand back from time to time, as though we were reading our own story, and check to see if these good things have become idols.

Prayer:  I have loved lesser gods and they haven’t really loved me back.  Help me to be faithful in our long-distance relationship.  Amen.