The only hope for idol-addicted sinners who are utterly incapable of decluttering their souls is Jesus, the one at the heart of the gospel, and the only one who stands before the Father with an undivided heart.
Although not every line and precept is still binding on us today, a corollary of the Mosaic law is that it shows us how deeply God cares about the way his people live. Insofar as they live according to his words, a line of distinction is drawn between those who belong to him and those who don’t. This wasn’t about “us vs. them” binaries. Neither was it about being different merely for the sake of being different. Rather, it was to demonstrate what the one true God can and will do in and through those who love and trust him.
In that sense, Israel was a conduit through which Yahweh wished to make himself known. As they feared, served, and clung to the God who brought them out of Egyptian bondage, God was unfurling what he originally promised to Father Abraham: how through his offspring, all the nations of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12:3; 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14).
1. Redemption Has a Purpose
A fundamental and essential way in which Israel was set apart was not only who they worshiped, but also how. This is what comes to the fore through the first three of the Ten Commandments, all of which are largely concerned with God’s people living worshipful lives (Exod. 20:3–7). Put differently, and more simply, God cares about how he is worshiped, not the least of which because that’s one of the prevailing reasons why Israel was liberated in the first place (Exod. 5:1; 7:16; 8:1, 20; 9:1, 13; 10:3). The Exodus was about more than just being free from the tyrannical grip of Pharaoh. It was about belonging to Yahweh, undividedly, indissolubly.
This, of course, remains true for the church as well. The death and resurrection of Jesus is what turns weary, bedraggled rebels into grace-filled worshipers. And yet, the gospel isn’t only the gift of God’s peace, life, and pardon; it’s also what emancipates sinners to worship and serve God without fear. The apostle Paul insists that those “who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart” through the word of Christ and the gift of his Spirit, freeing sinners from sin and adopting them into the service of righteousness (Rom. 6:17–18). The writer of Hebrews makes a similar point when he says that the “blood of Christ” is that which purifies us “from dead works to serve the living God” (Heb. 9:14).
In other words, the gospel isn’t just about escaping a dreadful eternity. It’s about being invited to participate in a hopeful and worshipful life with God, right now.
The Exodus was about more than just being free from the tyrannical grip of Pharaoh. It was about belonging to Yahweh, undividedly, indissolubly.
2. The Unrivaled God
God doesn’t beat around the bush when he begins declaring the Decalogue to his people. “You shall have no other gods before me,” he says (Exod. 20:3). The only God worthy of worship is himself. Period. There are no allowances, nor is there space, for any other deity to take his place. This becomes a repeated refrain through the Old Testament, echoing in the mouths of psalmists and prophets alike (Ps. 86:10; Isa. 45:5–6; 46:9). But even this command is frequently misconstrued and misunderstood.
When the Lord announces that his people aren’t to have any other gods “before” him, our minds often resort to thinking in terms of ranking systems, where there’s a first, a second, a third, and so on. In this scenario, Yahweh has just let it be known that he refuses to be relegated to second place. And as true as that is, that’s not exactly what he’s saying. “Before” means “besides” or “in addition to.” Thus, God will not suffer the notion that he is first among many.
The relationship between Israel and Yahweh wasn’t like that of an Olympic medal podium, where there are tiers and standings telling you your place, and as long as Yahweh’s number one, that’s cutting it. No, God has no patience for even the passing thought that he has a rival, nor is he interested in being put in the company of other gods. He isn’t merely first in a Pantheon of deities; he’s the one and only (Deut 4:35, 39; 5:7; 32:39; 1 Chron. 17:20; Neh. 9:6).
Such robust monotheism was vastly different from every other pagan religion in the surrounding regions, most of which were bombarded with hundreds, if not thousands, of deities to pay homage to. From the inception of God’s covenant with his people, though, that wasn’t to be true of them. Included in God’s calling of Abraham to leave his home in Ur of the Chaldeans (Gen. 11:28; 12:1–3; cf. Josh. 24:2) was the invitation into a life of singular devotion to and worship of him alone.
3. The Folly of Idolatry
And just so Moses and the rest of the Israelite multitude didn’t miss the point, he adds further stress on this command in the next few verses: “You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exod. 20:4–6).
The God whom even heaven can’t contain takes sincere delight in revealing who he is in ways that only he chooses.
Whereas most other religions were flooded with trinkets and totems bespeaking their titular deities, Yahweh’s people were to be set apart from all that. Instead of the worshiper handcrafting an idol to worship, the Lord takes it upon himself to inform his worshipers how they are supposed to worship him. The problem with idols or “carved images” was that you were reducing God to whatever form your hands could create. But Yahweh is utterly disinterested in his people deciding what form or frame he should inhabit, let alone how he should go about revealing himself. That’s entirely God’s prerogative.
The God whom even heaven can’t contain takes sincere delight in revealing who he is in ways that only he chooses. The most immediate example of this is all the instructions concerning the construction of the Tabernacle (Exod. 25—31). Israel, though, had a terrible time following these commands, breaking the first two almost as soon as they were given (cf. Exod. 32:1–6). From then on, idolatry plagued God’s people like a nasty case of gangrene, or an infection that was never quite rooted out. Revivals would come, but the “high places” would stay (1 Kings 15:14; 22:43; 2 Kings 12:3; 14:4; 15:4, 35). They even experience a repeat of the golden calf debacle (1 Kings 12:25–33).
With the Davidic kingdom divided and rocked by an appalling civil war, the newly minted king of Samaria, Jeroboam, takes it upon himself to ensure that none of his people get manipulated by the enemy. To do that, he sets up two new houses of worship, one in Bethel and another in Dan, each of which was equipped with its own calf made of gold, priests, and ritual feasts. He even rehearses the same justification that Aaron offered: “Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt” (1 Kings 12:28; cf. Exod. 32:4).
But none of this was worship; at least, not according to God’s definition of it. This was little more than political pragmatism, motivated by control and convenience, and a monarch’s unwillingness to concede power. And even though we might shake our heads in disgust at Jeroboam’s egregious actions, we’re not that dissimilar from him, at least, not as much as we’d like to think.
4. God’s True Image
According to all the latest trends, we are living in a unique and, dare I say, unprecedented era, one where what it means to worship is constantly being redefined. Attendance is in decline; so is participation. Meanwhile, worship has increasingly been reshaped by consumer expectations, digital mediation, and personal preference rather than covenantal devotion. The church has lost its central place in people’s lives. Instead, it has become another thing to be added to the schedule; something we fit in when we can, if there’s time left. All of which points to something deeper that demands our attention: we’ve lost what it means to worship.
And as soon as what it means to worship is adjusted to fit what works for us or what feels right, we’re no longer worshiping the God of the Word; we’re worshiping another version of him that we’ve made more manageable. Putting other gods on God’s level or even cobbling together one of your own is akin to making God more palatable. In other words, if the first commandment has to do with worshiping the right God, the second commandment has to do with worshiping him in the right way. And while most might sprint towards debates over religious media depicting Jesus — which is a valid conversation to have, don’t get me wrong — this has a deeper meaning for us.
The only hope for idol-addicted sinners who are utterly incapable of decluttering their souls is Jesus, the one at the heart of the gospel, and the only one who stands before the Father with an undivided heart. Only he kept all of the Father’s commands, not as some pious performance, but because he is what worship was always meant to look like. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus makes it plain that he hadn’t come to do his own will, but the will of him who sent him (John 4:34; 5:30; 6:38; 8:29). In so doing, he’s fulfilling the law for us by showing us what it ultimately looks like to not have any gods before God himself.
And where the second command resolutely forbids the fabrication or the reduction of God into something your hands can fashion, eons after Sinai, God himself would show up in flesh and blood, born of a woman, and walking around in the dirt. He reserves the right to reveal himself in his own way. Jesus, you might say, is the image Israel was forbidden to make (Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3). He’s the one who condescends to a world bursting with conceit and unbridled self-interest and not only shows us how to worship, but also worships for us. Perfectly. Completely. All the way to the cross.
