They had already done it. Dispensed with the covenant. Discarded the rules. Although they had yet to see them carved in stone, the people of Israel had thrown the commandments aside like yesterday’s news. The covenant they had been so eager to make after their grand exit from Egypt and narrow escape across the Red Sea lay broken at their feet, along with its inherent implications. While Moses was up on the mountain getting a crash course in laws and rules and ramifications, the people down below were busy violating the very commandments he would soon be reciting. (Exodus 19:2-8)
The length of his alleged vacation chafed. He’d been gone a long time, who knows what. They’d been stuck in the same place. Camped out. Waiting. Day after day of the same routines. Day after day of manna. Day after day of nothing new, nothing changing, nothing exciting. It didn’t seem fair that Moses would get to go on a trip up a mountain to talk with God, but they had to stay put in dullsville. They couldn’t go anywhere. Literally. Moses was the map. He was gone. And he’d left strict instructions, “Don’t cross the line. Don’t go up the mountain. Don’t even touch the edge of the mountain. Death awaits the one who disobeys.” (Exodus 19:9-25)
As Moses disappeared into the thick cloud of God’s presence, the people waited in expectation. Surely he’d be back for dinner bearing news of their next course of action, a new travel direction, a different menu option. He wasn’t. Moses didn’t show up again that day. Or the next day. Or the next week. Indeed, several weeks passed and Moses had yet to return. The people were growing restless. Tired. Bored. Weary of the monotonous waiting, the people took a flying leap off the deep end, cannon-balling straight into defection.
Impatient with the waiting and certain Moses was never coming back, the people began to make choices. Poor choices. Choices certain to taint their relationship with the God they had vowed to serve, the One with whom they had happily, willingly entered a covenant. They were done with all that. They wanted a tangible god. A visible god. A god that required no covenant or command. They’d do whatever it took to erect it. Sacrifice anything to have it. No price was too steep. They would have their way even if it took every gold ring and earring in the congregation to make it so.
Whatever made Aaron concur remains a mystery. One would think, as their last line of defense against the crazed workings of the evil one, Aaron would have planted his feet on God’s ground and remained immovable. Turns out he was quite lily-livered without Moses by his side. Perhaps he was jealous of Moses’ extended mountain stay. Maybe he was irritated that the upper conference hadn’t included him. Perhaps he was infuriated that he’d been left to run herd on a bunch of former slaves tasting freedom for the first time. Or maybe Aaron was simply exhausted. Whatever the case, he quickly capitulated to the fierce demands of the fickle people. Gathering the collection of golden jewelry, he melted it enough to meld it together. Then, using a graving tool, he formed the mass of gold into the form of a calf.
The people couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Their new god was everything they wanted. Blind. Deaf. Mute. It couldn’t see or hear their sin. It couldn’t issue commands. Yet they could still blame it for any inconveniences along the way. Immediately they began to exalt the statue. Stripping the glory from the God to whom it rightfully belonged, they proclaimed this new god, created by their own hands, as the one who had gloriously brought them out of Egypt. Aaron built an altar before it. Scheduled a feast. Directed burnt offerings and peace offerings to their new god. The people celebrated with eating, drinking, games and dancing. And the omnipotent God of the universe, their Deliverer, who sees every action, knows every thought, reads every intent of the human heart, stopped mid-sentence, consumed with anger at the travesty unfolding near the foot of Mount Sinai. (Exodus 32:1-10; Psalm 44:21; Jeremiah 17:10; Psalm 139:2)
As their unholy sacrifices smoldered before an unworthy statue of gold, the God to whom vengeance belongs vowed to act. This defection would cost them. The covenant, now in tatters at their feet, would never be renewed. The people would never be God’s chosen, they had opted out of being His peculiar treasure. They clearly wanted nothing to do with Him, They had wastefully thrown away His mercy, trampled His grace, traded His magnanimous offer of love for a god they could manipulate and control. And it would cost them. His presence among them. His power before them. His blessings over them.
History records few individuals owning the steel spine that must surely have been encased in Moses’ back. Knowing the power and greatness of God Almighty, feeling the pain and anger radiating from His presence, Moses still stood and spoke on behalf of the unworthy people below. Invoking the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that he knew God would never break, he pleaded for their lives. And God relented. (Exodus 32:7-14)
Racing down the mountain at break-neck speed, Moses’ feet screeched to a halt as his eyes took in the blasphemous scene unfolding before him. Rage burned in his veins. Hurling the precious tablets inscribed by the finger of God to the ground, he stalked through the cavorting crowd. Little by little, the people became aware of his presence. The music silenced. The dancing stopped. Plates of food were set aside. The celebrations ended. Moses was back and their actions had left them in no position to rejoice. Their lips were full of broken promises. Their hands were filthy from sullied sacrifices. (Exodus 32:15-20)
Surprisingly, I take no umbrage with the people’s impatience at Moses’ lengthy absence. We would have felt the same way. Wondered where he was. Worried he wasn’t coming back. Wrestled with how to survive and thrive if we were left without a leader. We would have made alternate plans. Designated a backup leader. Maybe even found a backup for the backup. Things happen in the wilderness, you know. It’s best to be prepared. Impatience and boredom would have pushed us to our breaking point. Complaints would have crossed our lips. Yet, for all the human normalcy of that impatience and irritation, I find their course of action unconscionable.
Why take their anger at Moses out on God? Why purposely walk away from the God who has delivered and rescued and provided for them? Why flagrantly construct gods that aren’t God and offer sacrifices meant for God alone to empty idols? Whether or not they read the words inscribed on those stone tablets before Moses splintered them into pieces, it takes no mental gymnastics whatsoever to know that offering sacrifices to a god made by human hands would never be the proper course of action. They weren’t being ignorant or obtuse. They purposely, willfully traded their God for a god. (Exodus 20:3-6; 22:20)
Apparently, humanity never changes. We are still engaging in the very activity that tripped up the ancient Israelites so long ago. Instead of focusing on Who we are and where we are going, we’ve gotten bored in the interim waiting space and started casting a wandering eye at all the pretty things around us. We’ve become envious of what others have. We’ve started longing for status and fortune and fame. In less time than we thought possible, those longings and desires have become all-consuming and we find ourselves making sacrifices on the altar of a god that was never meant to be our God. We rise up early and stay up late working and for what? A shot at the corner office, a gold nameplate, a designer wardrobe? We wear ourselves out at the gym. Why? To be the perfect size, the right muscle tone, the most attractive? We spend thousands of dollars on beauty products and treatments, herbal cleanses and health spas in a desperate effort to stop the effects of aging, hold off the march of time, and give ourselves longer to attain the earthly goals we hold so dear. We sacrifice our children, our families, our friends, ourselves on the altar of gods who aren’t God. We are no different than the ancient people we judge so harshly for worshiping a golden calf.
In the final utterings of Ecclesiastes, the learned preacher writes this profound conclusion. “Here’s the deal. When everything is said and done, fear God only. Obey God only. Follow God only. This is your entire life’s duty. Why? Because every thought, action, word, and secret will be weighed and measured by God, the Just Judge of all the earth.” He wasn’t wrong. The message the preacher spoke was the same truth God proclaimed to His people in Exodus. And the message hasn’t changed. There can be no gods before God. There can be no sacrifices made on the altars of earthly, worldly things. You can only serve one master. So you have to choose. Now. Today. God or god. Eternal or earthly. Desirable sacrifices of a broken spirit and contrite heart humbly laid before the God to whom we will all give an account. Or sullied sacrifices offered to a nameless, powerless, useless god that isn’t God at all. The choice is yours. Choose wisely, no matter how frustrated you are with the limitations and waiting of your current circumstances. Choose wisely, intentionally contemplating the spiritual outcome of each option. Choose wisely, for you are choosing your eternity. (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14; Exodus 20:3-4; Psalm 51:17; Deuteronomy 17:2-3; Matthew 6:24; Joshua 24:15; I John 2:15-17; Romans 14:11-13)
Good Word!