Religious Idolatry

Idolatry, simply stated, is putting something in the place in which God should occupy.  It’s making something more important than it really is.  It is confusing something of this created world with its creator.

So far, so good.  It is pretty easy to identify things in this world which can become idols.  Money, sex, power, and people/celebrities are often in the running for what people abstractly point to that can become idols.  More difficult is defining one’s own idols, and then to dethrone them. 

But what about things in the church or things that somehow have to do with God?  When do we confuse the things that are supposed to point us to God with God? 

I have a test to determine when I’m in danger of making a religious concept or object an idol.  I call it the “Get your hands off my God!” Test.  The Test came from the Roy Moore/Ten Commandments Monument fiasco in Montgomery, Alabama, which occurred from 2001-2004.  Then-chief Justice Roy Moore installed a massive granite statue of the Ten Commandments in the state judicial building.  He was then required by court order to remove it, and he was removed from office when he refused to do so.  The monument was eventually removed from the judicial building in July 2004, which was no easy task because “of the monument's weight, worries that the monument could break through the floor if it was taken outside intact, and a desire to avoid confrontation with protesters massed outside.”  Unfortunately I cannot find video of this, but apparently as the monument was being removed, a protestor yelled out “Get your hands off my God!”

Now, I think that the decision to remove the monument was congruent with law, and it should have been removed.  People who read this post may disagree with that interpretation of law or the idea of separation of church and state.  But my concern in this post is religion, not law, so I’m not going to spend my time on the question of church/state separation (I can do that later).

My concern is idolatry, and that the protester who shouted “Get your hands off my God!” was displaying a sentiment of the crowd:  that the monument of stone came to stand in the place of a God who writes the law on our hearts (Hebrews 10:16).  It became more than a symbol, and God was reduced to a block of granite.  And Christians were then ready to fight over a block of granite. 

Now, I’m a liturgical Christian who uses or appreciates icons, rosaries, labyrinths, books, good music (and the instruments needed to makes this music), excellent architecture, incense, statuary, and other religious objects.  This appreciation gets a reputation in less liturgical denominations as being precarious precisely because of the penchant for idolatry.  But this is precisely why I developed The Test.  The Test is that I ask myself this question:  Could I have a relationship with God without this object?  The answers have been yes.  There are times when I’ve not had one or all of these things, and the relationship with God has remained. 

The trick is to then remember that the religious objects are tools that serve to help me in my particularity and quirkiness commune with a living God. Rosaries help me, by touch and counting and repetition, to a place of contemplation where I can more easily hear the still, small voice of God.  The objects are not for devotion in of themselves.  There is some sentimental meaning attached, particularly if the object was a gift; but ultimately I could lose or destroy the object, and my relationship to God would not suffer in the least.

For a religious person who uses religious objects, an iconoclastic streak is necessary.  For a religious person who claims to not have such objects, beware of self-delusion. 

Now, at this point, the test gets tricky.  Humans can rationalize many things and claim that their idols are actually not idols, but they should keep the objects around anyway.  Remember this scene from Lord of the Rings:  Fellowship of the Ring?

With all things, the test of whether an object is an idol comes when the object of devotion is threatened. 

It is my opinion that cases of school prayer and religious objects in public spaces bring the idolatry to light.

It is my opinion that idolatry is exactly what is happening in Rhode Island, and some Christians are failing the "Get your hands off my God!" Test.  From NPR:

An atheist, Jessica Ahlquist sued the city of Cranston, R.I., over a banner hanging in the auditorium of her high school, Cranston High School West. Printed on the banner, a longtime feature at the school, is a prayer to "Our Heavenly Father." [And it ends with 'amen.']

Jessica Ahlquist has received threats since suing the school district over the banner.

In January, a federal judge ordered the banner removed. The school board is expected to decide Thursday whether to appeal.

This sixteen year old girl is receiving death threats and was called “an evil little thing…poor thing," by her state representative on the radio.  Presumably, these threats and insults are coming from Christians. 

So, is this object so hallowed that the Christians of the city cannot stand for it to be removed from a public school?  If the answer is ‘yes,’ I suggest that they are worshipping the wrong thing:  a paper banner, and not the God to whom the prayer points.  The display is important, and many cannot see the school without it.  And then, the idolatry is enough to make Christians forget that they are to love, and so they threaten a teenager, and bully her on Facebook.  One commenter wrote:

'This girl must be so unloved to want to get negative attention from everyone. Yeah, everyone talks about you 'cause you're psycho.'"

…Do unto others…?  Anyone?

Another disturbing thing is the rationalizations—like Bilbo Baggins—that are going on among the opponents.  Again from NPR:

"It's freedom of speech. I really don't feel as if there's a concern with it. It's not religious in any way at all," Palumbo says. "I mean, the banner has been up there since my mother went there."

Think about this.  How can one say that a prayer to “Our heavenly Father”—an address to the first person of the Trinity—petitioning for (albeit worthy) things, and ending with ‘amen,” is NOT religious?  Is it NOT a request made in faith, plastered to the wall?

At what point did the prayer lose its religious meaning?  At what point did an address to God not become an act of faith, but something you just keep around like a historical artifact?  This would be a silly argument for a Christian to make. It is akin to saying that "a religious object is actually not religious and has little meaning, so it should stay in a public place."  It is saying that all of us should be happy with a trivial meaningless object.  This is a rationalization and nothing more.

May it be that some Christians in Rhode Island would have the wherewithal and strength to tear down their idols.

May it be that we all have that strength.