The very last words of the book of 1 John hang in the air like an unresolved chord: Dear children, keep yourselves from idols. Written in the swirling darkness of doubt, danger, fear, and grief, it’s as if this warning—to steer clear of false gods—sums up all the invitations in the little book leading up to that moment; invitations to belief, courage, love, and healing.
Christ followers, if ever we needed to hear those invitations or heed that warning, it is now.
Before going further, let’s acknowledge that worship and sacrifice are closely connected. For most of human history, the worship of something almost always involved a kind of sacrifice to it. The Old Testament reveals this with clarity: rightful worship of God included a regular rhythm of sacrificial offerings (see Leviticus 1-7). King David once famously said, “I will not give the LORD that which costs me nothing” (see a more accurate quote in 1 Chronicles 21:24). The worship of false gods was abhorred, not least because of the human sacrifices involved.
No, not every sacrifice is an act of worship, but every act of worship is an act of submission.
So now, let’s fast forward a few thousand years to the other night when, on national TV, an elected state official (from a different state than my own) gave concise, explicit voice to what has been more subtly broached in recent days from Washington, DC (I’m not including his name or his office intentionally–those things aren’t the point here). Speaking of the need to get the American economy moving again in the midst of the global coronavirus pandemic, this politician positioned himself as a proxy for senior citizens and asked himself,
“Are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren? And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in.”
Based on context, it seems clear the “America” being spoken of here is the American economy which is in serious trouble. I don’t deny the premise that an obliterated economy can result in social upheaval and something altogether terrible–another awful, painful, costly part of what this pandemic may mean. But in a sense the question being asked was, “Are you willing to risk your life for the sake of the American economy?” His answer was yes. And the tacit expectation is that senior citizens should all feel the same way, that other Americans should feel the same way on behalf of the senior citizens and vulnerable people in their lives.
The politics and dystopian nature of that line of thinking aside, I have been most burdened by the Christians who have echoed and even championed this sentiment (the politician in question is himself a Christian author). (Some other time we’ll examine where and why the North American church has acted confusingly schizophrenic regarding what it means to be a people holding space for life.)
What the politician expressed (and what others have endorsed) can readily be seen as a call to sacrifice our elders and the infirm to the idol god of Mammon–in order to appease the gods of the Economy and the American Dream, some people just may need to die.
Christ followers, we must stand and proclaim otherwise.
The president has expressed the well-intended goal of getting the economy moving again by Easter, and having “packed churches all over the country” for Resurrection Sunday. One friend of mine celebrated this, expressing how good it would be for the church to have Easter back and for the country to be open again.
On the one hand, I agree: getting people back to work, quelling fears of global depression on the heels of global pandemic, and being able to worship in physical space with my friends and family on the highest holy day would be wonderful.
On the other hand, I am reminded of this:
First, Easter never belonged to the church; it belongs to Jesus.
Second, the way of Jesus is the way of life–the way which is meant to lead people into the space of thriving and flourishing.
Christ followers, we must remind our leaders that life–every life–is sacred. We must remind our leaders that there is an account they will give for how they have used their power. We must live as people with eternity in mind, people who know that a packed church or a buzzing economy purchased with the lives of the sick, the weak, and the aged will result in hearing the chilling question first asked of Cain, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s (and sister’s) blood cries out from the ground.”
Dear children, keep yourselves from idols.
