To the Christian Idolaters
You worship a symbol that has fifty stars and thirteen stripes. This idol has become a fixture in your lives that you guard above all else, that you look to with such reverence, such honor, such all-abiding love that any onlooker unfamiliar with your people and your faith would assume it is your very God. America is an idol and you are an idolater.
You worship your fear, which has become bigger than your God. It has seized your heart and taken control of you from within, operating you with your full consent. Your God told you that he did not give you a spirit of timidity, but you are shaking, quaking and alone —terrified of men and deathly fearful of wars. Did your God not tell you that there will always be wars and rumors of war? Did he not tell you to put your trust in him? Did he not tell you that even the birds, who do not sow or reap, will be taken care of by his almighty hand? And yet a five-year-old boy causes you distress. Your fear is an idol and you are an idolater.
You worship your own comfort. You believe you are being persecuted by secular people. Did your God not tell you that your glory is in Christian suffering? Did your God not endure mockery and challenges, telling you that you, too, must do so because the servant is not better than his master? He gave his own life and you cannot handle the disapproval of people who don’t understand why you care which bathroom people use. Your comfort is an idol and you are an idolater.
You worship men. In the King’s Court, Mordecai refused to bow to the evil Haman, because Mordecai was a man of the Lord and his heart recognized when evil was residing next to the highest position in the land. Would you, too, refuse to kneel, or would you gleefully take a knee for a man-made government regardless of its spoken admiration for the very forces of evil?Men are an idol and you are an idolater.
You worship your Christian label. Did the Lord not send his son down to earth, who spent his days among prostitutes and sinners, who rejected the “religious” figures and their all-consuming hypocrisy, who flipped their tables and directed the only wrath of his thirty-three years towards the so-called holy ones? And yet you think Jesus would be by your side in refusing to bake cakes for gay people. Your label is a meaningless idol and you are an idolater.
You worship your self-righteousness, so that you might damn gay people for marrying but ignore verses on divorce; so that you might be passionate about abortion but passive when children face hunger and homelessness; so that you might speak loudly about praying in public, but close-mouthed when teens commit suicide due to bullying. Did your God not warn you about being like the tax collector and not like the Pharisee? Did he not warn you that those who exalt themselves will be humbled when all is judged? Your self-righteousness is an idol and you are an idolater.
You worship pride. In the face of proof, in seeing the eyes of dying children, of families in distress, in the pleading of your brothers and sisters to just please leave us alone, in the wake of turmoil and hatred, anger and fanaticism, your heart turns as hard as the Pharaoh’s. Plague after plague, on all of our houses, and your heart will not soften. You cannot yield your position because it is more important to you than showing everlasting kindness to those you hate — especially those you hate. Pride is an idol and you are an idolater.
