Exodus 32:1-6
When the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, the people gathered themselves together to Aaron, and said to him, “Up, make us gods, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” And Aaron said to them, “Take off the rings of gold which are in the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me.” So all the people took off the rings of gold which were in their ears, and brought them to Aaron. And he received the gold at their hand, and fashioned it with a graving tool, and made a molten calf; and they said, “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!” When Aaron saw this, he built an altar before it; and Aaron made proclamation and said, “Tomorrow shall be a feast to the Lord.” And they rose up early on the morrow, and offered burnt offerings and brought peace offerings; and the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to play. RS

The children of Israel were camping at the base of a mountain a distance from Egypt. It was a unknown place with few amenities (to say the least). Traditionally, Mt. Sinai sits between the Gulf of Suez (dividing Egypt and the Sinai desert) and the Gulf of Aqaba, dividing the Sinai from Midian. It was a desert, a wilderness. No supplies, no prospects, nothing but bleakness and suffering on the horizon.

It was this “Promised Land” to which Moses brought the people (or so they thought).

At this point, God gave the people a task (the creation and building of the Tabernacle) and asked Moses to come to the top of the mountain. Building the Tabernacle would deplete most, if not all, of their worldly resources (gold, jewels, cloth), leaving them with flocks and . . . nothing. Nothing with which to trade, if they could even find anyone to trade with.

While they had been slaves for 400 years, they also had been cared for (by the Egyptians) for that time. They weren’t used to fending for themselves and they certainly weren’t used to trusting God. They had suffered and suffered and suffered under the hands of their oppressors, but now that they were free, they didn’t know how to handle their freedom. Even the suffering seemed good because it was the “known.”

They were lost, desolate, at odds with themselves. They were afraid that the Egyptians might come after them. They were afraid of the unknown terrors of the Arabian tribes that lived in the region. They were afraid of being cold and hungry and alone.

The biggest thing is that they felt abandoned. Have you ever felt alone, abandoned? We tend to reach out to someone, something, anything when we are in this kind of situation. It extremely painful to feel alone, to feel abandoned, as if no one is there, you are all alone.

The Israelites complained to Aaron: “as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” The Israelites felt abandoned, alone, in fear of their future, perhaps even in fear of their future. So they turned to idols, to something—someone—that would be there in their time of abandonment.

Why is that important for us to know?

I think that most of us equate idol worship with some kind of Cecil B. DeMille movie . . . large golden statues, infant sacrifice, half-naked women dancers. And yet, I am becoming convinced that while that may depict one type of idol worship, it doesn’t describe the totality of idolatry. Peter, in his first epistle, says this:

“Let the time that is past suffice for doing what the Gentiles like to do, living in licentiousness, passions, drunkenness, revels, carousing, and lawless idolatry.” (1 Peter 4:3 RSV)

Peter combines a number of things together to describe “what the Gentiles like to do.” The thing is, when the New Testament talks about Gentiles, it is usually (as in this case) talking about unbelievers. In other words, Peter is saying “what those who aren’t Christians like to do.” When we live like the world (think like the world, act like the world, react like the world), we are including in our lifestyles idolatry.

Licentiousness: (1) lacking legal or moral restraints; (2) marked by a disregard for strict rules of correctness.

Passions: strong desires, actions based on emotions

Drunkenness: Due to alcohol or any other drug that changes one’s perspective or consciousness

Revels: Wild parties or celebrations

Carousing: Drinking bouts

Idolatry: the worship of any god except the Almighty Unfortunately, taken together as a group (acknowledging that one or two of these behaviors might be missing), this could describe many Christians. Don’t we often make decisions based on our emotions, on what we want? Don’t we often (and isn’t it even preached from many pulpits) disregard social and spiritual constraints because “we are all sinners and can’t do any better?” Don’t we participate in emotional celebrations that encourage a lack of inhibitions (been to a football game lately)?

Why do we think that we also don’t practice idolatry?

What is it in our lives that comforts us? What is it that we don’t want to lose (to the point of unnaturally clinging to it)? What is it that we depend on?

I think a good question to ask: Is there anything that I feel would upset my equilibrium if I were to lose it? Is there anything I would seriously mourn? Is there anything I really can’t stand thinking about losing?

Family? Husband? Children?
Job? Career? Position?
Home? Possessions? Future plans? Resources?

Whatever we consider to be our safety net—emotionally, physically, financially—may also be our idol. And as Christians, we need to seriously consider this. What can’t we do without? If we answer anything except the Lord, then we may be in serious spiritual trouble.

The Israelites were alone in a true wilderness. They were facing the possible attack of the Egyptians (from their past), the possibility of starvation from a lack of resources (in their past), and the potential loss of their leader and thus of the Promised Land (in their future). Rather than focus upon the task at hand—doing what the Lord had told them to do—instead they looked around, saw with fear, and reacted . . . asking for an idol—something in which to believe, to cling, to rely on—rather than to trust in an unseen, untouchable, invisible God.

We are, at many times in our lives, alone. Do we cry out in anger for that thing, that person upon which we relied? Or do we cry out for God and trust in Him even though we may not be able to see Him at work?

Whom do we worship?

Copyright 2008 by Robin L. O'Hare. All Rights Reserved. Used by permission. Permission to reproduce will be given by author by contacting servinggodalone @ yahoo.com. All copies must be reproduced in their entirety and distributed without cost.