the idolatry of seeking bad help

In 2 Chronicles 28, amidst the familiar but irregular back-and-forth rhythm of ‘good king, bad king’ in this part of the Bible, we are introduced to King Ahaz. He did not do what is right.

Bad king.

One of the familiar refrains of this part of biblical history has to do with burning incense to, building altars to, or not removing the high places to foreign gods. The original readers or hearers of these stories would have known the practical detail of the idolatry that is summarised by such words. But we modern readers don’t.

Early in the chapter (28:2-4) we get a list of his idolatrous practices (the Baal images, the child sacrifice, the incence at the high places, hilltops and trees), but later (28:22-23) we are given a window into his idolatrous mindset. Here’s how the text puts it.

In his time of trouble King Ahaz became even more unfaithful to the Lord. He offered sacrifices to the gods of Damascus, who had defeated him; for he thought, “Since the gods of the kings of Aram have helped them, I will sacrifice to them so they will help me.”

Here is the implicit idolatrous ideology we are invited to consider: if you want help in a particular area, you sacrifice particular things to particular gods. If you have food insecurity or drought, you sacrifice grain to get more from the gods. If childbirth and reproduction isn’t going so well, you might sacrifice your child to get help with having more children.

By contrast, the faithful leaders and prophets understood that the Lord doesn’t require dead children, or even rams or bulls, to bless his people. They knew how inhumane and anti-life such practices and ideology were.

In our modern world, we don’t literally make these same kinds of sacrifices, but we still can fall into idolatrous thinking that leads to idolatrous living. We see other people who seem to be enjoying certain things, so we sacrifice to get in on the action. We might think: “Their holiday photos looked amazing. I’m going to work extra and save so we can go.” or “That newest smartphone model has amazing features, instead of using my money for other purposes, I’ll shell out for one.”

Those are just some easy examples. Idolatry can be much more subtle. Even church leaders can be tempted: “Their church services look amazing, let’s invest in all of their tech so we can have that too.”

Then and now, the contrast is grateful obedience to the Lord and not enslaving ourselves to a false god, even if the offer looks enticing. The things we really need, oxygen, grace, meaning, purpose, are free of charge and not in short supply.

spirit direct my tongue

Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise. (Psalm 51:15)

However and whenever I use my tongue, I am increasingly away of the need for my speech to be spirit-directed. There are a few categories of spirit-directed speech that are useful to recognise:

spirit directed proclamation

Whatever form or format the proclamation takes, be that preaching in a church, directing a film, or designing an image for a billboard or Instagram (and I don’t ever expect to do two of those four!), there is a stark difference between engaging in those tasks with a mind and heart full of self, or filled with Spirit.

spirit directed conversation

Whether it be the most gentle listening and coaching, or the most urgent and heated must-have dispute, again, there is a clear distinction between the Spirit directing me to speak words filled with truth and grace, or my ego directing me to speak words filled with half-truths, defensiveness, insecurity and manipulation.

spirit directed prayer

When I pray, I may use a prayer book, I may let my mind chase the Spirit’s heart with unplanned words, or indeed I may silently speak to God in the quiet space of my own mind and heart. In all of those ‘modes’ I can either be led by the fear and pride that flows from ego and flesh, or I can be prompted or awakened by the Spirit enabling me to read, pray or meditate along the lines of love, humility and courage.

spirit directed tongues?

I have no personal experience of what most people call tongues. But even with my lack of experience (and putting to one side the exegetical interpretive questions I can hide within) I can imagine that whatever kind of speech that is borne from the movement of my tongue, be that a) a spontaneously and miraculously given and previously un-learned human language, b) a humanly-unintelligible angelic language, c) wordless groans, or d) a simple, humble and playful kind of free vocalisation offered to a Father by a child seeking an encounter that transcends rationality, it is the Spirit that makes such speech edifying or selfish.

Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise. (Psalm 51:15)

the king and the parent

As the theologically-astute preachers’ line goes, “If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus.” When it comes to the Lord’s prayer, we are not so much looking at as listening to Jesus. He speaks of God as “Our Father”. God is just ‘like’ a Father, God is a Father.

Much has been said about how it is virtually and psychologically impossible for our human experiences of fatherhood (and motherhood) to not colour the way we understand and experience our relationship with our heavenly Father.

For those of us who have the privilege of being parents ourselves, this dynamic divides into two: We experience parenting ‘upwards’ and ‘downwards’. And both experiences colour us.

Positively we may be able to remember wonderful moments where our parents imprinted us with God-like love. And we likewise may have managed to have supremely divine moments where we were conscious of participating in truly loving parenting to a child of our own.

Negatively, however, our ‘upward’ experience of parenting in various ways can be a source of wounding as we recall various times that we were under-parented or over-parented, manipulated or abandoned, spoiled or abused.

Likewise, our ‘downward’ experience of parenting can provide a steady diet of shame as we fail, again and again, to live up to even our own limited standards of what a good parent should look like, and see the disappointment in our child.

In short, upwards wounds damage our trust in our parents, and downward shame damages our trust in ourselves. It is psychologically hard work, shall we say to trust God when our trust in our parents and ourselves is broken. We may scan the Bible and find stories that seem, especially when disconnected from the scriptural metanarrative and interpreted in the counter-narrative of progressive secularism, to show a God acting in ways that are wounding.

Back to Jesus we must go.

Jesus shows us not only how to truly see the loving Fatherhood of God, but also what it looks like when a Son fully trusts and enjoys that fatherhood. Jesus shows us a Father that is just, for sure, but radically merciful and self-sacrificing. A God who can be trusted.