In the 4th century, the Roman emperor Constantine led the empire into battle, carrying the symbol of Jesus Christ before him, the Greek letters, chi rho. He was triumphant in battle, and this was a decisive turning point for the church. This marked the moment when the church went from a vulnerable minority, persecuted by the powers that be, right into the seat of power – the empire.
Christians at the time might have had some misgivings, some discomfort, about the cross of Christ being co-opted as a symbol of war. But, on the other hand, how grateful they must have felt to be, finally, on the side of power instead of persecution. To be able to breathe easy in this world at last.
This is something that all humans crave: safety…security. We want it. Christians in the Roman Empire wanted it, people in all times and places want it.
We desire things that are certain, things of which we can be sure. It is in this space of desire that our idols are born.
The Israelites, as we read last week, had decided they could be certain about Moses. They told him, “You speak to us, and we will listen.” And so a routine was set in motion: Moses would go have private conversations with God on the mountaintop, and then he would come down and speak to the people.
But on this occasion, the people grew anxious, and their certainty foundered. Moses was gone too long, they felt. And anyone who has waited for a loved one to get home, long after they were expected, it is a familiar feeling. We get anxious and we worry. And we want to do something to relieve our anxiety.
The people turned to Aaron and demanded: If we cannot have Moses, we need another god, so make one for us – a god that we can see, a god that will go before us. And Aaron set about the task of doing just that – fashioning for them an idol.
They had lots of good material to work with, because they had managed to get plenty of gold on their way out of Egypt. I suppose the Egyptians at that time were also quite anxious. After the plagues that had befallen them, they were anxious to have the source of their sorrows be gone, so they were happy to give the Israelites what they wanted if it would get them out of the country.
Aaron took all this gold stuff and fashioned an idol. Something they could worship.
Now, this feels very odd to us, doesn’t it? We know better than to think there is any real power in a gold statue. But let’s take a moment and think: What is attractive to you? What is valuable to you? What is it you feel gives you any kind of power? A healthy bank balance? A career? Thinness? These are the things that may become idols. You can even wrap a veneer of holiness around it, as Constantine did when he carried the Christ symbol into battle. But an idol is an idol.
It is important for us to know and accept that we too are prone to fashioning idols, that is, forming allegiances to things – little gods – that we think will go before us. It is important for us to know that when we have lost our certainty and want it back; when we have decided it is all up to us, to fashion that god, to serve it and sustain it, then we are, like Israel in the wilderness, choosing to worship an idol.
Now, while down at ground level Aaron was feverishly making a golden calf and leading the people in worship, the Lord says to Moses, “You know, your people are doing some idol-worshiping down there.” And Moses was apparently speechless, because he said nothing. Then, the story has it, God goes on to say, “Moses, I’m done with them. I’m going to go down and incinerate them. Then you and I can start over.”
Certainly, God could do that. We have the story of Noah, in which God decided – not to incinerate the whole lot, but to wash it all away. Drown it. The fact that we look at this story of Noah as less than factual – we call it pre-history, more myth than fact – that doesn’t matter. The fact that we tell these stories means that we believe them, in some way; that God can destroy all life on earth if that is what God chooses.
But it is here in this moment that Moses finds his voice, and he implores God to turn his wrath away from Israel, to give them another chance. Just as Abraham did so many years earlier, Moses asks God to reconsider, and God relents.
The psalm today is a song of praise for God and all the wondrous things God has done, and it retells this story, of how God turned away God’s wrath from Israel. But the psalm gives credit to Moses, too. It says, Moses stood in the breach –
The breach that had been created by the people’s weakness and sinful behavior, their desire for certainty.
A breach that was formed when they turned away from trusting Moses and trusting God and deciding that they needed to put their trust only in things that they could see.
A breach that formed between God and God’s people because they chose a lesser god. Moses put himself in the breach.
There is no point, really, in assigning blame or finding fault or tsk-tsking the Israelites because the things the people did, the things Aaron did, are things we all do. We seek out certainty, we crave security, we believe that we have to make a way for ourselves in this wilderness world.
We want a god of our own making who will go before us, guiding us, strengthening us, leading us through our wilderness days.
As the Israelites did.
As the Christians of the Roman Empire did.
We let things come between us and God, making a breach.
When they are feeling uncertain, insecure. When God seems to have been away too long and we just can’t figure out what God is doing – then we turn to our own devices.
And so my thoughts turn again to Israel and Palestine.
I know I cannot speak for Jews. Neither can I speak for Palestinians. But I speak as an American Christian when I say that the breach we see in Israel and Palestine grieves me deeply. I speak as a Christian when I say that the people of Israel have suffered unspeakable harm by the actions of Hamas and there is nothing to say about that other than to condemn the cruelty.
But I also speak as a Christian when I say that the Palestinians who live in Gaza are suffering as well. And they will continue to suffer as the war rages on.
For me, as a Christian, there is no us versus them in this matter. Love is not a zero-sum game. Suffering, sorrow, and need do not belong to one side or the other. This is the human condition.
As long as humans continue to hate, to punish one another, this suffering will continue. And there will be the temptation to incinerate the other, as the story says God was tempted to do.
I question, though, if this was really God’s desire or the desire of humans who would like to speak for God.
Nonetheless, as the story goes, Moses stood up for reconciliation. As the psalm says, he stood in the breach. He stood for mercy, for life and all the hope we have that life will go on.
I wonder if you and I might do the same – stand in the breach.
To appreciate the righteous anger of a people harmed way too much for way too long.
To understand the tender love that they have for their children, for their parents and grandparents.
To remember the shared humanity we have with them. and them. and them.
After all, we all came from the same place.
