New Necks for Stiff-Necked People ~ Exodus 32:1-14 ~ Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

One of the most fun things I’ve ever done was visiting the observation deck at the Empire State Building for the stunning and breath-taking view of the New York City skyline from 102 stories above the ground.  While I was there, I noticed signs warning people against throwing coins or other objects off the tower.  Then I looked down upon a ledge slightly below the deck, and saw that it was littered with coins and other trash.  Common sense would tell anyone that throwing junk off an 102-story building could cause serious harm to the people below—so why on earth would someone do such a thing?

I guess they say “rules are meant to be broken” because that’s exactly what we do.  We can’t help ourselves.  We do really dumb things; we take unnecessary risks, we do onto others as we would never have done to ourselves; we put others in danger—and for what?  The thrill of getting away with it?  Because we can’t resist?  Because it “feels right?”  Because we think we have no other choice?

Why do we wrong when we know what is right? 

This is what happens in our Old Testament reading from Exodus.  God has miraculously liberated Israel from slavery in Egypt, and now, they’re in the wilderness.  Moses is their divinely-appointed leader on their journey to the promised land. 

Not too long into their journey, God gives Israel the Ten Commandments through Moses—and the people happily agree to obey.  After all, the commandments weren’t burdensome.  They are a gift from God—so that God’s people may live well with each another, and in relationship to the God who delivered them from slavery.

But there’s a problem—Moses is up on the mountain for an extended period of time.  The people get scared—because their leader is gone.  How will they survive without the man with the direct line to God?  So they go to Aaron; Moses’ brother and right-hand man… They ask him to make for them a god who will lead them the rest of the way through their journey.  Aaron collects the people’s gold, fashions a golden calf, and declares it to be “the god who brought them out of Egypt.”

God sees this—and God is not pleased.  They have violated the first and second commandments: they make an idol, worship it, and call it their God.  They make God into that which God is not—and give the calf the credit for freeing them from slavery. 

In their fear; in their confusion; in their desire to be able to guarantee their own safety and successful sojourn through the wilderness, they refashion God into something they can see, touch, and control…  Why?  Because they had no use for an invisible God; no time to wait for promises to be kept…  So they make a convenient and useful god; one they could manipulate through festivals and sacrifices to act in their favor.  This is what idolatry is.  We make God into what God is not.  It is worshipping gods who exist only to do our will.

We may not worship sacred cows, but we’re all guilty of idolatry.  We act as though we have no need for a God we can’t see; who keeps us waiting; who uses difficult circumstances to discipline us; who works in ways we can’t understand.  We’ll gladly recast the God into a god who’s useful to us—and who gives us what we want because in exchange for our loyalty.  Our priorities take the place of God—and we sacrifice ourselves to them. 

Consider your life—are there idols unto which you sacrifice yourself?  Are you constantly trying to please everybody and become the perfect person?  Do you believe that you’re worth as a person is measured by how hard you work and how successful you are?   Do you run yourself ragged in an insatiable desire to have it all, know it all, and do it all; never to miss out on the best of what’s around?  Or do you seek a life with no difficulties, no challenges, or anything that will take you out of your comfort zone—for fear of failure?

We’re all stiff-necked people—even church-going people like you and me.  We do only what is right for ourselves and expect God to do the same.  And boy, do we make a mess of things  by doing what we know to be wrong.  We can understand why God would want to wipe us out of existence.  But that’s not what God does.   Instead, while we’re scrambling about, worshipping our sacred cows, and our lives crumble into the wreckage of our own making, God finds us.  We, like sheep, go astray—and God seeks us out and finds us.  God’s arms are open even to rebellious people like ourselves.  That’s grace.  For when we are found by God, we are changed.  We repent and we live differently. 

Repentance doesn’t begin with us making a decision to straighten up and fly right.  It begins with God’s arms stretched out to us in love.  When his forgiving, saving grace surrounds us, God gives us the gift of a new life—as well as the faith to believe that God’s way is the better way.  God gives us a new heart—not to mention a new neck—to look beyond the here-and-now, with all its desires and its distractions, to see the God who loves you and even treasures you.

Today, amid the stress and pressures of our busy lives, with the disappointments and heartbreaks, and our heart’s desire for something greater, we need to just stop and be in God’s embrace.  It doesn’t matter how much work you have to do or plans you must  keep; the most important thing you can do today and every day is to just stop running about so that God’s love may embrace you.  Be where you know God can be found.  God knows better than any of us what is truly best.  So trust in his love and promises.  If you sacrifice yourself for anything or anyone else, you’ll forever be broken.  Life is found in God, and a joy-filled life is found in doing God’s will. 

Stop to receive from God a new heart, a new neck—and a new life.