Baal Worship and Ball Worship

I'm reading through the Bible at a blistering pace. In a mere year (or was it two?) I've made my way from Genesis 1 to the end of 2nd Chronicles.

Today I ran into that odd verse, 2 Chronicles 23:17, which refers to the destruction of the temple of Baal in Jerusalem under the leadership of Jehoiada. Excepting the parallel passage in 2nd Kings, there is no other reference in the Old Testament to an actual temple of Baal in the city of Jerusalem.

And yet it was there.

One of the depressing things I take away from my Old Testament readings is the pervasive reality that people pick up spare idols rather easily. A page or two later we read of Amaziah, who is given a great victory over Edom only to... wait for it... take the Edomite idols home with him to Jerusalem.

At this point I set aside my reading to go upstairs and kiss a few children off to their respective schools. As I passed by our family idol I noticed it was glowing and paused to gain wisdom from it because the man on the screen was a priest wearing albs and a cross over his chest.

The video clip was on the news because the pastor had given a very hurried 1-minute sermon so as to get home to watch his beloved San Francisco 49ers in the NFL playoffs. As he left the podium the pastor spread apart his albs to reveal a red T-shirt underneath emblazoned with the 49ers team logo.

I proceeded upstairs to pray for the child heading off to school. Then I retreated to the basement, somewhat shaken by a disturbing juxtaposition. A temple of Baal tucked away in the City of Jerusalem... and a temple of Ball tucked away under this pastor's albs.

I decided to jot my thoughts down and turned on my PC (which happens to be another contender for my allegiance...). I was relieved to confirm on Google that the 1-minute sermon was a gag. The pastor did proceed to preside over a regular church service after the joke was over.

But my relief was not unmitigated, because a line had been crossed. Before the Lord's table there is little room for humor. Yet this pastor had quipped during his 1-minute sermon, "Would you all like to be forgiven for your sins? OK, that's great, you are. There's some bread and some wine up here on the table. You all feel free to help yourself if you'd like to."

A line had been crossed. And underneath his cross this man bore a shirt dedicated to the temple of Ball.

But as I reflected on the travesty I had witnessed, I realized that I too was guilty. There are many American Idols, and not all of them involve sports.

As it will be recalled, I had gone up to pray for a child or two as they headed off to school. After a brief (real) prayer over a particular child, I worded some final advice to the child (pertaining to an upcoming Math exam) in Eucharistic terms... as if the advice had come from the Lord. I closed with the words, "Thanks be to Dad." Even as I did it, I realized that a line had been crossed.

And I as sit here reflecting upon what I had done, I wonder if during my passage by the TV shine I had not perhaps picked up an extra Baal from that irreverent pastor.

Yes, inappropriate joking can desecrate a holy place no less effectively than a sports logo. I am guilty of the former, if not the later. Baal worship comes in many forms.

We like to think we have come a long way. We like to think we've left idol-worship in the rubble of ancient history.

But we haven't.

I pray for my fellow Americans that they will stop bringing sports idolatry or crass joking into the house of God.

For myself, I pray that this moment of clarity will not leave me. There is a place for silliness.

It does not belong in my prayers.

What Would He Say Today??

I'm reading a book by Richard J. Foster titled Freedom of Simplicity right now, and this morning I read the following things excerpted below:

We also need to have times when we fast from the media. It is amazing to me that many people are incapable of going through an entire day concentrating on one thing. Their train of thought is constantly broken by this demand or that interruption. The newspaper, the radio, the television, magazines — everything interrupts their concentration. Some people are so enslaved to television that if it were taken away they would go through withdrawal. Obviously, there is a time for the various media, but there is also time to be without them.

We can also learn to fast from the telephone. This instrument is a wonderful invention, but it controls many people . Some people will stop praying in order to answer the telephone. Can you imagine anything more absurd? I want to let you in on a secret: we don not need to answer that gadget every time it rings. We are not its slave, but its master.

The bolding above is mine, and it is there because it's no longer true. In our society we have long since reversed roles. The phone is the master, and we are the slaves. But the author can be forgiven for getting the wording wrong. When he wrote this book in 1981 the situation was a bit different.

1981???

1981???

Yes. The above social commentary is now more than thirty years old. I was eleven years old when this perceptive author saw where things were going. And he wasn't very happy about it. What a prophetic voice. As I read his words, I kept thinking to myself, "And what would he say today??"

What would he say today.

In a recent intimate gathering at our house a guest married Foster's two concerns into one. This person: a) left the conversation at hand,
b) got news via the cell phone in hand,
c) and then proceeded to inform the rest of us
d) who were sitting around the Christmas fire
e) of news we didn't need to know
f) which involved a fallen politician
g) (who is well remembered for being busted with a hooker)
h) who it turns out is going to divorce his wife.

This example is extreme (for someone coming from my perspective, if not for society in general today), but I am equally busted. The finger points back at me too. Picking up on the book where I left off, the next words are:

When people come to visit us, we should not insult them by interrupting our conversation to answer the telephone....

Uncomfortable. I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Because I do that.

I answer my cell phone pretty much any time it rings.

I do it when with with a friend.

I have stopped praying in order to answer the cell phone too.

That's ok today, isn't it?

Or have I been lulled into a habit at the kind of pace that keeps the frog in the kettle even as the water begins to boil?

Perhaps this frog didn't notice the water temperature was changing.

Perhaps I've gain a few habits that would have been more widely lamented in 1981.

What would Richard Foster say today??

Indeed.