The Idolatry of Control

We become like the things we worship.

This is the final installment in a series on what I call “evangelical safety culture.” To catch up you can read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, and part 6.

Photo by Felipe Simo on Unsplash (edited)

It’s easy to believe that we who live in the West, who do not encounter temples and shrines with incense burning before metal forms, are not tempted by idolatry. When one does hear a sermon on the topic, the “high places” of the Old Testament that the Israelites failed over and over again to tear down are likened to anything tangible to which we might be devoting too much time or affection. Asherah poles become alcohol, altars to Baal are compared to Netflix, shrines are symbols for overeating or overshopping.

If only excising our idolatry was as easy as cutting down a wooden pillar or canceling our streaming subscriptions. But we are much more entangled than we realize with the things we worship. We have draped our Asherah poles in priestly garments and called them our protectors. We have set up altars to our way of life, our “rights”, and our “values” and declared them sentinels.

Evangelical safety culture exposes an idolatry of control, an idolatry that lives in us all.

Our idols are not silver and gold, but safety and sovereignty (Psalm 135:15-18). The idol of control is loud, but she cannot fulfill her promises. She has eyes only to magnify the dangers around us and ears only to detect threats. When we worship her, we become like her, unblinking and uncharitable in our paranoia, self-obsessed in our desire for security. We bow down before that which cannot hear and we become deaf to reality. We worship that which cannot see and we are blinded to beauty.

By the Holy Spirit God does promise control, but it is self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). The power over our circumstances that we so crave is given, but it is power given over fear and tempered by love (2 Timothy 1:7). The Spirit empowers us to achieve mastery, not over our environment but our emotions.¹ The kingdom we reign is not an earthly realm, but a spiritual one.²

Our Good Shepherd, the One with the comforting rod, promises to walk with us through valleys full of shadows and sometimes death. He promises presence and calls us to surrender. As we tune our ears to the timbre of His voice, the counterfeits that promise safety will begin to fade. And as we set ourselves to the work of surrender, the outlines of our idols will sharpen. Their sightless eyes will not compare to the One who sees and calms our secret fears. Their blocked ears will not tempt us when there is One who hears every desperate prayer we whisper in the dark. Their unmoving anxiety will be no match for the flesh and blood of our embodied Savior.

Beauty in Friendship
Here in Germany we are visiting friends we have known for a long time. In the last 6 years we’ve seen each other 4 times and added 5 kids between us. We are all deeply committed to faithfully living in the places God has planted us, so aside from some text messages about sports between our husbands we hardly connect between visits. But when we arrive I am handed a baby to bounce while dinner is made and our toddlers play across language barriers in the other room.

Waiting for our train.

In pursuit of Beauty,

1. See Galatians 5:13-25.

2. See Luke 17:20-21; John 18:36. The effects of growing in the fruit of the Spirit can, of course, be felt in our daily lives. But our work must begin with cultivating inner peace, love, and joy in step with the Spirit before we move out into the world from that foundation.