Sermon: The First Commandment

Text: Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

Date: October 5, 2008

Rev. Dee Eisenhauer, Eagle Harbor Congregational UCC

            I was brought up on monotheism, in a monotheistic religion, in a monotheistic culture.  That is, I have been taught since Day One that there is only one God.  Being brought up on monotheism makes polytheism—a belief in a multiplicity of gods—difficult to grasp.  I understand the concept of polytheism, but it’s hard for me to comprehend worshiping many when worshiping One has been so drilled in.

            The Israelites lived in a different world.  Everybody knew there were lots of gods when the Israelites were on the journey we know as the Exodus.  They had left behind the various gods of Egypt.  They were traveling through other gods’ territories as they moved.  If anyone had at the time tried to make a case for there being only one god those folks would have suggested having the speaker’s eyes checked and head examined.  Evidence of multiple gods was scattered over the landscape.

            As many of you know, we had the pleasure of traveling in Japan last summer.  The native religion of Japan, Shinto, is a polytheistic faith.  I don’t pretend to understand it, but I found it fascinating to be in a place where evidence of multiple gods was scattered over the landscape.  There were shrines around practically every corner, some large, some small, dedicated to a pantheon of gods and goddesses.  Some shrines were quite large, ornate, impossible to overlook.  One that stands out in memory is a shrine in Kyoto that has 10,000 vermillion-colored gates arching over a pathway up a mountain.  Other shrines were small—bread-box sized affairs, easily overlooked by someone unfamiliar with the territory or the philosophy that put them there.  We had a few guides with us that taught us to notice the shrines, and explained which gods they were dedicated to.  After some time in the country we began to see more of them.  They began to appear to our more educated eyes. 

            I suppose that the same shrines that we were learning to take notice of faded into the background for people who passed by them on their way to work every day.  I drive by my dry cleaner just about every day without seeing it, unless I have a reason to go there.  I presume there are many residents of Japanese towns and cities who don’t see the places of worship they typically hurry past.  I don’t know if a typical Japanese person has a sense of living surrounded by a host of deities; I’m guessing gods and goddesses fade in and out of consciousness depending on what is preoccupying the person. 

            I’ve been playing with this idea of disappearing/reappearing deities because of something I read in a Walter Brueggeman commentary on Exodus.  The first commandment, as you heard, has to do with having no other gods before Yahweh.  It’s a very strong statement about having loyalty to this one Lord who has liberated the people and chosen them for a special calling in the world.  It’s a “demanding loyalty,” as Brueggeman puts it, saying that “the question of …faith in the modern world is whether there is a people, a concrete community, that can embrace and practice this demanding loyalty…this lifetime of ceding over authority.”    If there truly was only one god-like power or source of leadership in the world it wouldn’t be much of a problem to be loyal to that Being.  But as Bruggeman notes, “This uncompromising demand is properly voiced in a world of unacknowledged polytheism.  We have always lived in a world of options, alternative choices, and gods who make powerful, competing appeals.  It does no good to pretend that there are no other offers of well-being, joy, and security.” [1]

            In a way the people living in polytheistic lands have an advantage because there they have visual evidence of multiple gods, the multiple offers of well-being and security that are out there.  We who have been schooled in a monotheistic world-view may lose sight of the immense power of the philosophies competing in the marketplace of ideas for our loyalty.  I find this concept of “unacknowledged polytheism” illuminating.  Brueggeman suggests that we may almost unconsciously turn to other gods when we are experiencing some psychic need.  He writes, “In pursuit of joy, we may choose Bacchus; in pursuit of security, we may choose Mars; in pursuit of genuine love, we may choose Eros.” [2]

            This image came to me of an invisible peddler’s cart we may be unconsciously pushing along life’s long road.  When a particular need arises, perhaps we swing over to the side of the road, reaching into the cart to rummage around for a proper god to meet that need.  We don’t necessarily realize we are doing this; it’s largely unacknowledged polytheism.  But I think Bruggeman’s insight is right on that we don’t always choose Yahweh.  We choose or create little gods, hoping they’ll do something for us. 

            Let me refresh your memory on a definition of idolatry.  John Wesley had a good explanation of what it means:  “Whatever is loved, feared, delighted in, or depended on, more than God, that we make a God of.” [3]  Think about that for a moment.  Whatever is loved, feared, delighted in, or depended on, more than God, that we make a God of.  I don’t know about you, but when I read that, my invisible peddler’s cart of mini-gods suddenly materialized in my mind’s eye like a ferry plowing out of a fog bank.  My identity as a life-long monotheist among monotheists is the fog that cloaks my unacknowledged polytheism.  But the cart of mini-gods is there with me---philosophies, possessions, or practices I have, on occasion, loved, feared, delighted in or depended on more than Yahweh.

            Let’s muse on the competing gods that might be rattling around in our usually invisible peddler’s carts.  The three possibilities Bruggeman mentioned are a good place to start.  He invoked Bacchus as a god we might turn to in pursuit of joy.  Bacchus, you may know, was the Roman god of wine.  There is no doubt that people do turn to a variety of intoxicants in search of joy and fun.  Wine is viewed by the Bible as a gift of Yahweh; Psalm 104 gives thanks for God’s gift of wine “to gladden the heart.”  There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with it, in other words.  However, no intoxicant can be a source of true, long-lasting joy in life.  It might be good for some giggles, but I don’t need to tell you that it also has toxic potential to wreck lives.  That toxic potential takes over when one regularly turns to Bacchus instead of Yahweh  to deal with pain or stress by masking unpleasant feelings rather than dealing with the sources of pain.  Bacchus distracts, whereas God brings healing and reconciliation. 

            Mars may be invoked in pursuit of security.  Mars is the Roman god of war.  Bullfinch’s mythology says Mars had a savage love of violence and bloodshed.  One might say that we turn to Mars whenever we act out of a belief that violence solves problems.  That belief is at the core of what biblical scholar Walter Wink calls “The Myth of Redemptive Violence.”  As a nation we have often behaved as if we believe violence solves problems.  Mars is a big influence in our quest for security.  It’s remarkably challenging to stay loyal to the God who calls us to love our enemies while Mars is making such a racket.

            “In pursuit of genuine love, we may choose Eros.”  In Greek mythology, Eros is the god of lust, love, sexual desire, and fertility.  We evoke this god in our language more than most, whenever we refer to “erotic love.”  Sexuality is, of course, a gift of our Creator both for the propagation of our species and for our delight.  Nothing wrong with it.  But sex alone can, like intoxication, become a toxic, relationship-destroying practice.  Lust may be substituted for love, and sex may be used as a weapon, a means of domination, a method of manipulation, or a distraction from other problems.  We pursue Eros rather than Yahweh whenever sexual behavior detracts from, rather than enriches loving and just human relationships. 

            Are there other gods in our rattling little carts, optional philosophies or practices we are apt to put ahead of our loyalty to Yahweh?  Do we pay homage to the Fates when we dodge responsibility for our own choices?  Do we worship Venus, goddess of beauty, putting more time and effort into outer appearance than inner wisdom?  Do we revere Hercules in our reliance on our own strength?  Is our addiction to a constant flow of information a veneration of Mercury, the Messenger?  What else might we have loved, feared, delighted in or depended on more than Yahweh?  Exxon, Wachovia, Godiva, Allstate, Amex?  Delighting in and depending upon the material more than the spiritual is a perennial issue for us humans. 

            All this is a way of probing whether we might be monotheists by proclamation and polytheists by practice.  There is a good reason why the first commandment is first—it’s not just order but priority.  “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.  You shall have no other gods before me.”  The first commandment requires the faithful to organize our lives around this one single loyalty.  It’s a practice that requires a continual saying of Yes to Yahweh and No to the myriad other choices and mini-gods with their competing offers of well-being.  The other commandments spell out some of the implications of saying Yes to the liberating God: keeping the Sabbath, avoiding the wrongful use of God’s name, creating communities in which we treat our neighbors as God’s beloved children by abstaining from murder, theft, adultery, thievery, slander, and covetous behavior.

            The scripture reading, with its interjections from the words of Jesus, reminds us why Jesus is called “the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.”  Jesus is one of the few humans who really mastered monotheism.  You can tell by the way he internalized this total loyalty to God.  He doesn’t have to have the commandments as an external checklist according to which he evaluates his behavior.  He has unmistakably taken the commandment to have no other gods before Yahweh completely to heart.  Honoring God has become what makes him tick; you can hear it in his speech.  His teachings deepen the commandments and take loyalty to God a step further, from outward conduct to inward attitudes. 

            That, beloved, is our aspiration.  To be like Jesus.  To love Yahweh with our whole heart, soul, mind and strength.  To park the peddler’s cart of competing gods by the side of the road and travel light, following the light as we are led further and further into freedom. 

[1] Bruggeman, Walter commentary in The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume One Nashville: Abingdon, 1994, p. 843

[2] Ibid.

[3] Wesley, John Wesley’s Notes http://www.ccel.org/ccel/wesley/notes.ii.iii.xxi.ii.html