Author: Kevin

I can’t remember the first time I ran across the passage that I’m about to cite. It has always stuck with me, and it has come to my mind again in recent weeks.

Exodus 20 is best known for the Ten Commandments (vs. 1-17). But there’s a section that contains instructions for worship, and these instructions include the way the altars were to be built:

‘And you shall not go up by steps to my altar, that your nakedness be not exposed on it.’

Exodus 20:26

The altar was not to include stairs or platforms. It was a place to worship God, and there was no space for man to be elevated. He who led worship would be on equal ground with His fellow worshipers. He was, after all, just another man who had been delivered from slavery by a Holy God. His role in leading was a gift of grace, not a promotion merited by his own achievement.

This verse has repeatedly come to my mind as formerly secret sins of well-known pastors and Christian leaders have become public knowledge. This phenomenon is nothing new, but it seems that scandalous news travels faster than the speed of light in the age of social media.

These scandals, of course, are primarily a failure of an individual’s personal integrity. They are a reminder that I, too, am capable of deceiving myself into making catastrophic decisions.

But I believe there is another issue (besides social media) that contributes to these scandals and widens their impact: we have created a celebrity culture in Christian ministry. This culture elevates flashiness over faithfulness and “success” over substance. We readily put men on pedestals, only to be bitterly disappointed when they fall.

One more thing: I recognized the risk of allegorizing the Holy Scriptures. By allegorizing I mean attaching symbolic meaning to the text that the Holy Spirit never intended.

But I can’t get away from this thought when reading Exodus 20:26: put man on a pedestal and you are likely to see a side of him that is less than flattering.

We need more altars and fewer pedestals.

Most of us are familiar with the Genesis account of sin entering into the world. The serpent approached Eve and convinced her that the forbidden fruit was the key to realizing her own divine potential:

But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

Genesis 3:4-5

We know that was a lie: the act of disobedience brought death, not divinity.

But it seems to me there was a lie underneath that lie. It was just as subtle as the serpent that delivered it. This is a lie that assaults the very character of God. Here it is:

“God is holding out on you.”

Believing this lie can lead to at least two terrible outcomes.

The first is outright disobedience. Eve, then Adam took this route. They instantaneously learned a harsh lesson: God’s prohibitions are ultimately for our protection. They exchanged fruit for thorns, paradise for pain, life for death, and glory for dust. Consequence is a cruel teacher for those who disobey God.

The second is bitterness. This may not be outright, external rebellion against God, but it’s just as toxic for the soul. Perhaps the inward, hidden nature of bitterness makes it even worse (or at least harder to recognize) than outward rebellion. The older son’s heart, after all, seemed just as far from his father as those swine his prodigal brother had fed (Luke 15:11-32). Grace and bitterness do not tend to peacefully coexist in the same heart.

I feel I should expound on this second outcome because it is one I am more familiar with than I care to admit. There have been times I have entertained the lie beneath the lie and experienced the bitterness that follows.

Life disappoints us all at some point. Here are just a few examples that come to mind:

• That attractive man or woman that won’t pay any attention to you.
• That job or job promotion which should have been yours.
• That narcissist who has been blessed with so much talent and/or treasure (you, of course, would have used it all selflessly).
• That hardship or tragedy that your neighbor deserved more than you.

Sometimes we choose to interpret some of these disappointments as God holding out on us. We often look back and see how silly we were to think this way. We realize that God was, indeed, working for our good (Romans 8:28).

We should know better. I should know better–especially when I consider that God “did not spare His own Son” for my sake (Romans 8:32).

Lord, you have loved me perfectly and blessed me more than I will ever deserve. Forgive me for those times I have failed to trust You. May I always guard my heart against lies and bitterness.