Idolatry, ancient and modern alike, is trusting some earthly substitute for God for your security and prosperity. And while idolatry is typical of the world, Judges 18:1–31 makes it obvious that it is also among God’s people. After all, everyone is a worshipper. The only question is, to whom or what do you look for ultimate meaning, purpose, and blessing? To use the words of Micah, what is the thing of which, if it were taken from you, you would say, You took my god. What have I left? I am empty
?1 Your spouse? Children? Health? Your sleep? Financial security? A full fridge and pantry? Your wardrobe? Your technology? Your cold drinks? God’s gifts become accursed idolatries when we think, For me to have true happiness and blessing and completeness, I need [fill in the blank].
What about respect from others? Social acceptance? Admiration, for your hard work? Status in the company? Praise for your abilities as a student, an athlete?
As long as I have ____, I will be happy.
Does this text not help us see the foolishness, even insanity of idolatry? It’s the world upside down. And yet it can seem so natural and even right, because of the immediate results. It seems to pay off. The Levite and the Danites sure experienced that. Pursuing idols doesn’t necessarily lead to all sorts of immediate disaster. The world is full of successful idolaters. Yet appearances are not everything. Outward success does not necessarily mean God is blessing you. The fact is, God never blesses idolatry. And it’s only a matter of time before outward success, or, temporary gratification, from an idol, comes to an end. Self-made religion will always disappoint. Because man-made gods are not very loyal to their makers. Whatever earthly thing we make into our god—money, power, relationships—will not deliver what only God can deliver. Nothing created can give us ultimate blessing. At best, like the Danites, you get an earthly inheritance that is limited to this life, but you lose your soul. Success is actually a failure.
24 Il répondit: Mes dieux que j'avais faits, vous les avez enlevés avec le prêtre et vous êtes partis: que me reste-t-il? Comment donc pouvez-vous me dire: Qu'as-tu?