Janie B. Cheaney

November 13, 2018

The “Nothingness” of Idolatry

A deep dive into the etymology (history and development) of the word idol:

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the Greek eido’lon (Latin idolon) encompassed the notion of

image in many forms: phantom, idea, fancy, likeness. The Septuagint (Greek translation of the Old Testament, completed around 250 B. C.) appropriated the Greek word to refer to a carved representation, and that’s the usual sense in Hebrew. But the Hebrew word saw’, occasionally translated idol, means a falsehood, a vain thing, a “nothing.” An idol is, in the contemptuous Hebrew sense, “nothing,” and prophets like Isaiah had a lot of fun with the idea: cutting down a tree to carve it, cooking your food over the scraps, then bowing down to it (see Is. 44:12-17).

But an idolatrous “nothing” doesn’t seem like nothing to an idolater, and that’s the danger of it.

One intriguing use of the Greek applies the word to a reflection in water or a mirror. Other classical uses include an effigy, a counterfeit, an imitation, an insubstantial appearance (such as a shadow), a mental fiction or fantasy, a false conception. The wisdom of etymology subtly unfolds—who would have guessed this many shades of meaning for a word usually associated with crude images made from wood, metal, or stone?

Take “reflection.” Aside from the myth that gives “narcissism” its name, this form of idolatry is a cartoon image, the smitten individual gazing at himself in a mirror while surrounded by fluttering hearts. We’re too sophisticated for that, or almost. I’m old enough to remember a video that made the rounds during the 2004 election: John Edwards, the Democrat candidate for V-P, taking 14 minutes to comb his hair in front of a mirror just before his one televised debate. (To be fair, he possessed exceptional hair.)

Most of us don’t fall in love with our reflections. But we do project, and the things we love become part of us, and when we pursue them, we pursue that which feeds, builds, expands, and often flatters us. It’s possible to fall in love objectively—that is, for the object itself. An aspiring ballerina loves dance for its own sake, as an athlete loves the game, a reader loves literature, a hiker loves mountains. But in time the temptation to identify with the object of our affection can overtake us. We no longer pursue out of love, but out of pride, possessiveness, or position. Get two or more enthusiasts together and clock how long before arguments break out. The more vehemence, the greater the personal investment.

When does enthusiasm become idolatry? That’s hard to say. When life makes no sense without it, when it brings pain—even when it dries up, suddenly and completely, because it couldn’t sustain your passion forever.

Idolatry is tricky, twisty, and deceptive. And ultimately, an illusion—a “nothing” after all. The only sure remedy is Reality Himself.

November 3, 2018November 3, 2018

Establish the Work of Our Hands

Here’s a newsflash from the world of medicine.

A Professor of surgery at London’s Imperial College, with the delightful name of Roger Kneebone, reports that he’s concerned about the increase in surgical students who lack certain vital skills. Can you guess which ones? Not diagnostic acumen or imaging analysis—many of these students ace their exams and blaze through their diagnostic computer programs.

But they don’t know how to sew. And they aren’t too proficient in cutting, either—which, if you need to have your appendix out and patched up again, might be a skill you’d want your surgeon to have.

How does a bright young person get through medical school, all the way to the surgical theater, without learning how to stitch up a kitchen wound or dog bite? How did she even get through kindergarten without learning how to cut along a straight line?*

We see a similar decline in the States, too: even kids who aren’t aiming at brain surgery for a career find themselves stymied when it comes to doing laundry or even folding clean clothes.

Cooking? They can probably manage the microwave, but can they turn on an oven?

Changing the oil every 2000 miles? Forget it. In fact, they often do.

Yes, I’m pushing 70, so I’ve earned the right to rag on kids these days, just as my father used to rag on me for my taste in music and my mother for the way I wore my hair. But this looming scandal in the medical field, like the shortage of skilled craftsmen here in the U.S., is more than a cultural trend. It’s a symptom—one of many symptoms—of a shift in thinking that grew up with digital technology. It’s the idea that we don’t really need our hands any more. Just our fingers. Manual labor is a thing of the past, meaning manual skills are no longer necessary. Musicians, dancers, sculptors, and painters may follow their dream through the arts, but those who are not gifted in those pursuits can sit back and be entertained with a swipe of the screen.

This is a deeply gnostic belief, and it ties in with other popular contemporary illusions like transgenderism. It’s why some school districts have eliminated shop and home ec classes, pared art, music, and drama programs and cut back on recess time. We live in our heads, and “knowledge” is the only thing that matters. The future (supposedly) belongs to “knowledge workers,” not electricians and carpenters.

But no one lives in a virtual world, as much as some misfits and sociopaths may think they do. There’s no real disconnect between brains, hands, feet, and that incorporeal being otherwise known as Soul. God made us to be integrated beings, hand and mind working together. What he has joined, no man can pull asunder without great damage to both.

To work in this way is a tremendous honor, because in doing so we imitate Creator. God may not have “hands,” as we understand them, but he is so active in the world–making, unmaking, and recreating–that Bible writers can’t help but speak of “the hand of the Lord.” Even in an act as basic as turning over a row in the garden and planting seed, we follow in his metaphorical footsteps. Angels, so far as we know, don’t make anything, or certainly no material thing. That privilege belongs to us.

So put down the phone or tablet (as soon as you finish reading this!) and go make something. Take a pottery class. Draw a tree. Build a birdhouse, or paint one. If nothing else, figure out how to thread a needle and sew on a button. Apply the workings of your mind to the skill of your hands, then teach someone else to do the same. Ask the Lord to establish the work of your hands (Ps. 90:17), and rejoice in following his creative, productive ways.

*In Surprised by Joy, C. S. Lewis wrote of his own lack of ability to cut with scissors. It was a strange disconnect between his very acute intellect and the parts of the brain that controlled small motor activity. As a child, many a project begun hopefully had to be abandoned with tears. He never learned to drive or do math, either, which suggests an interesting connection between manual dexterity and figures. The Canadian writer Robertson Davies was the same way.

October 30, 2018

Leaving God Out of Account

What business have you reciting my statutes,

Standing there mouthing my covenants,

Since you detest my disciplines

and thrust my words behind you? . . .

You are leaving God out of account; take care! Psalm 50:16-17; 22

This reminds me of my dialogue with a liberal friend from college, even though “mouthing” and “reciting” are not fair descriptions of her heartfelt love of the covenants. The question is, whose covenant? God’s extension of grace and mercy through Jesus Christ is built on a foundation stretching back through millennia. The beloved covenants of today are (apparently) brand-new, sweeping away the old because it’s no longer needed. Or because we’ve evolved into a more caring and accepting society. Some of God’s words she treasures; others she thrusts behind her. Or rather, rationalizes or explains away.

She’s not the only one of course; it’s the spirit of the age. Even those who talk about God every day can “leave him out of account.” He’s the Facebook meme of a silhouetted figure on a ridge with hands raised in triumph, or sunbeams raying out from clouds. He’s the beauty, the wind, the sunrise, and every good feeling. He is not the muscle, the hot iron, the oil-slicked, invisible gears that make the earth move and history pop.

He’s the mountaintop we climb for inspiration, not the valley where we live our lives and make our daily decisions based on everything but what he actually says. This can be outright rebellion (I know what he says and I reject it). But more often it’s sheer frivolousness: I’m okay, God’s okay; he’s fine with me as I am with him. Even with God brooding directly over them and history dogging their every step, Israel failed to take him into account.

But he took them into account—and you and me, too. That can be good news, or very, very bad.

October 20, 2018

Seven Words and a Noose

This woman:

Nine years ago she was of no particular importance. She was a field worker in Pakistan, poor and uneducated, with a husband, two daughters, three stepdaughters. As common as dirt, except for one thing:

She knows Jesus. Knows him well enough to speak up for him, and that’s why this woman is now of supreme importance.

Here’s how it started. Back in 2009, she was at work as usual. When she went to get water for all of them, her co-workers, all Muslim, objected when she took the first drink. Didn’t she know she was second class? Didn’t she know she had contaminated the water? She was a Christian—a pariah. One drop of her spit ruined the water for the rest of them.

Her reply, as reported: “Jesus Christ died for the sins of the world. What has Mohammed ever done for you?”

Blasphemy. In Pakistan, speaking against a Muslim can earn you a prison sentence. But speaking against Mohammed gets you death.

Most blasphemy offenses in Pakistan see quick vigilante “justice.” Last year a university student was lynched by his peers. Another culprit, a Christian business owner, was on death row for two years before a surprise acquittal. But this woman, Asia Bibi (otherwise known by her maiden name, Aasayia Noreen) has lingered in prison for nine years, two appeals, and most recently a sentencing hearing. Any day now the final decision is supposed to come down: acquittal, or execution.

Allowing the case to linger has pumped up the passion. Two men, so far, have been murdered for speaking up for her: Salmaan Taseer, governor of Punjab, was shot by one of his own bodyguards in 2011. The guard was subsequently executed—you can’t just shoot down government officials with impunity—but has become a folk hero. That same year, Shahbaz Bhatti, the Christian minister of Minority Affairs, was assassinated in an ambush.

If the sentence is carried out, Asia will be the only woman to be executed for blasphemy in Pakistan. (Presumably other women have been murdered on the same charge, but not officially.) The case is a matter of international interest, with Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and several Christian groups joining the outcry against blasphemy laws. The U.N. is harder to pin down, with their nonbinding resolutions and endless debates, but seems more adamant against defaming religion than keen to defend human conscience. From our perspective, I t looks like a lose-lose: if Asia hangs for seven words about Mohammed—which she may not even have said—it’s a tragedy. If she’s freed, it’s a blowup.

The judge’s response to the sentencing appeal is expected any day. In the meantime, mobs are gathering to shout down any move toward clemency. Hang her! they scream. Hang her!

Hated by thousands, prayed for by millions, truly known by only One.

I look forward to meeting her one day, in His presence, whether she leaps there from the noose or comes by a more orderly, quiet way.

What matters is that she knows Him, and more importantly, He knows her.

October 16, 2018

Invasive Love

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

His love endures forever . . . .

Psalm 136:1

Psalm 136 notably includes the refrain, “His love endures forever” in every alternating line. The Hebrew verb translated “love” is hesed. Some translations focus on the “forever,” making use of a linking verb (e.g., “His love is everlasting”). Speaking as a non-scholar of Hebrew, I’m sure that’s grammatically correct, but might not be the best interpretation. God’s hesed (often translated “steadfast love,” “lovingkindness,” “unfailing kindness,” “mercy,” etc.) endures. More than that, it actively endures. It’s not a feeling extended toward us, but a tool (or weapon) continually wielded on our behalf.

Suppose Psalm 136 read something like this:

His thoughts dwell longingly on us.

His love is everlasting.

He rehearses our many excellent qualities.

His love is everlasting.

He’s already picked out the ring.

His love is everlasting.

Tomorrow he intends to pop the question.

His love is everlasting.

Though human-like emotions are attributed to God (our emotional nature comes from him, not the other way around), they are not manifested in ways especially human, like a besotted young man contemplating the girl who’s captured his heart. Almost all the non-refrain lines in Psalm 136 are active. Even violent: He struck down, brought out, divided, overthrew, led out, killed, gave, remembered, rescued. “Mighty wonders” are the tokens of his love. Steadfast love is not a generalized benevolence, but a frightfully specific, focused, burning, overpowering force.

In English, love is both a noun and a verb. In Hebrew, hesed implies action—a reaching, searching, interfering kindness that speaks more of the lover than the object. It invades our space and shakes us awake, bundles us up and pulls us out of destruction. It outlasts time, and endures. Endures conflict, indifference, disobedience, rebellion . . .

Most of all, it endures us.

October 5, 2018October 4, 2018

Recovering a Heritage of Hymns, Part Four

To Sum It Up

Here are three reasons to re-think the contemporary model of congregational singing:

The music. The free-flowing, repetitive character of many praise choruses is designed to make it easy for unchurched people to join in. However, the opposite may be true. The lack of a substantive melody line leaves little for minds and voices to grasp. The tunes are no sooner sung than forgotten, especially since the music is never shown in musical notation. It’s written to be sung to standard guitar chords, which is helpful to worship leaders but difficult for the congregation—who end up “singing along,” rather than singing.
The words. Contemporary worship songs rightly fix on God: His glory, majesty, uniqueness, and faithfulness. Typically they are sung at the beginning of worship during a period that lasts 15-20 minutes while the congregation stands. The words are often meditative and repetitive, for the obvious purpose of creating a mood for worship. However, there are other biblical reasons for singing. Scripture ordains singing for instruction, for encouragement, and for admonishment (Col. 3:15-17, Eph. 5:18-21). The lyrics can be recalled on the road and in the home, while working or walking and talking with our kids. As the Lord takes pleasure in his people, so they should take pleasure in him: “Let the godly one exult in glory, let them sing for joy on their beds” (Psalm 149:5).
The history. Discarding the old disconnects contemporary Christians from some of the best in their history: musically, theologically, and spiritually. The foundation of Western music, including the best of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky, is the church. Until recently, the Christian songbook included songs from the earliest days of the church all the way up to the present. Now, the ever-changing video screen overwhelmingly features the lyrics and melodies written just yesterday, and many of those will be gone tomorrow.

Again, I’m not suggesting that the church discard all contemporary worship songs. I’m only saying that we already know what stands the “test of time,” and it’s in those hymnbooks stored in the church basement. Some contemporary songs will stand the test of time as well, and we can let time have its say. There’s a reason why Christians still sing “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” and “Holy, Holy, Holy” and “Blessed Assurance.” There’s a reason why little children–the world over–still sing “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” The Holy Spirit has been at work in the church all through the ages, and these songs are a testimony to His work. Let’s not let them go.

This is the final post in a series on Christian musical heritage. The previous posts are

One: A Tuneful History

Two: Why Let It All Go?

Three: Intentional about Singing

October 2, 2018October 2, 2018

The Judge on the Altar

I don’t write about politics much, because it’s a trap. It’s too easy to see your own “side” as the good guys and the other side as mendacious maniacs (or pick your own alliteration). Worse, it’s too easy to hunker down in the mosh pit and convince yourself that this is the good fight: this bill before Congress, this election, this next Supreme Court Justice. There may certainly be elements of a good fight in any of these, but the real fight is taking place on another level altogether.

Having said that, I’m going to make a political observation. The Democrat party, as a whole (not convicting all Democrats) seems to have sunk their fortunes into a grab bag of propositions that can be lumped together under the heading of “Identity Politics”—IP for short. IP weaves the academic pursuits of latter-day Marxism, deconstructionism and intersectionality among strands of feminism, Black Lives Matter, LGBTQ identity, and other aggrieved groups who haven’t even worked up to being aggrieved yet. Its policies lean toward statist solutions (i.e., big government; welfare; socialist tendencies). In the interests of bipartisanship, I agree that IP would never have taken hold without some justification. Forms of oppression has tainted our country, and injustice lingers on. I disagree about causes and solutions, and I strenuously disagree that oppression is the whole story. But that’s the problem: to many on the far side of IP, oppression is the whole story.

Identity Politics has become a cult. Its sacred history is a catalogue of oppression by white men, its eschatology is the emasculation of white men, its creed is White Men Are Oppressors, and its high priesthood is the Democrat leadership—many of whom are white men, redeemed by sacred rhetoric. Its high religious festivals are elections, both general and mid-term; its ethic is protest and resistance; its holy relics include abortion (as a symbol of a woman’s control over her destiny).

Cults have their heroes and villains and sacrificial victims. Last week we witnessed a ritual sacrifice, complete with ceremony, theater, laying on guilt, and one “lamb without blemish.”

Let me say at the outset, I don’t know the facts of the Ford-Kavanaugh case. Nobody does, except the accused and the accuser, and possibly not even those two, given the tricks that memory plays over time. But adherents of the cult were presented with the perfect victim: not only white and male, but a preppie! Not just privileged, but super-privileged! Not merely a boy scout, but a devout Catholic! Not just innocent of the charge (so he claims), but a virgin at the time! (So he claims.) Everything that radical leftism hates and longs to pull down was sitting before them in that committee room, and they knifed him.

He had his defenders, and won a procedural victory when the Senate Judicial Committee voted him out on strict party lines. But he’s bleeding, and if he makes it to the Supreme Court, he’ll bleed for the next decade at least (if not impeached by a Democrat majority). The cult has worked itself into an ideological frenzy on the merest suggestion. Among the accusations and conclusions I’ve encountered: he was probably drunk at the hearing, he falls into seething rages, he can’t be trusted to coach his daughter’s basketball team, he may have run a high-school rape ring, he got blind drunk at parties in college and there’s just no telling what he did or can do.

I’ve bumped into these allegations without even looking for them; just imagine what I’d find at fever swamps like Think Progress and Democrat Underground. They came not from anonymous angry birds on Twitter, but from mainstream journalists and pundits and authors. Brett Kavanaugh is no longer a man to them—he was never a man, but a symbol of white supremacy in all its wickedness. He’s the merciless slave-owner, the callous CEO, the ogre of the boardroom, the . . . the . . Republican.

The Halifax Chronicle Herald, Bruce MacKinnon

This cartoon was making the rounds over the weekend: Lady Justice, her scales knocked askew, flat on her back, held down with one hand over her mouth by a faceless attacker labeled “GOP.” Yeah, well—what about assumption of guilt, and lack of evidence, and equality under the law, which is why justice is supposed to be blind? To the IP faithful, “procedure” means “stonewalling.” What do they want? A conviction! When do they want it? Now!! And they’ve got it. In another age, they would be yelling, “To the guillotine!”—so we can be grateful for the procedural niceties that remain to us.

Just consider these cartoons, presented from opposite sides of the story. Which has the most emotional punch? Which has the most rational appeal? Can there be any reconciliation between these two views?

“But love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven.” The great reconciler is at work, but he only works through one heart at a time. Views aren’t reconcilable, but people are.

September 25, 2018September 25, 2018

Bible Challenge Week 49: The Church – On to Glory!

At the end of the book of Acts, Luke leaves his narrative hanging with Paul in Rome, under house arrest and preaching the word to everyone who walked through his door. That’s a strange ending, until we realize it’s not really an ending at all. The story goes on, and we’re in it. But with Revelation, a notoriously frustrating book for many readers, we get a divine view of the heavens and the earth that God created in Genesis 1:1. Terrible, glorious, frightening, and encouraging events unfold as the curtain rings down on this present age.

As several commentators have noted, the gist of the story is “God wins.” And how! To Christians who have suffered through the ages, to persecuted believers in Nigeria and North Korea and Iran and elsewhere, to those of us who survey the moral destruction of our country and wonder where it will all end, the apostle John addresses this vision. This is where it ends: God wins, and “the dwelling place of God is with man.”

For a printable download of this week’s final challenge, with Scripture references, thought questions, and family activities, click here:

Bible Reading Challenge Week 49: The Church – On to Glory!

(This is a continuation of a series of posts about the “whole story” of the Bible. I plan to run one every week, on Tuesdays, with a printable PDF. The printable includes a brief 2-3 paragraph introduction, Bible passages to read, a key verse, 5-7 thought/discussion questions, and 2-3 activities for the kids. Here’s the Overview of the entire Bible series.)

Previous: BRC Week 48: The Church – God’s Family

September 21, 2018

Recovering a Heritage of Hymns, Part Three

Intentional about Singing

Some friends linked to this recent article in Intellectual Takeout: “The Tragic Decline of Music Literacy (and Quality).” The “tragic decline,” at least according to this perspective, has occurred in the general culture. In this, the church may reflect the culture a little too much.

The church of my youth made it a point of pride—too much pride, sometimes—to sing well. As a preteen I attended Sunday-night classes in how to find a pitch, how to harmonize, and how to beat time. I recall one gifted brother who traveled around leading “singing revivals.” Instead of preaching a gospel message every night, he corrected some of our musical errors and refocused our attention on lyrics that may have become dull with repetition. He taught us to sing with more understanding—and gusto. The revival he led at our church was the most memorable I ever attended, and our song service reflected his work for months afterward.

Churches in general (not just the Church of Christ) were more intentional about singing in the past than they are today. But as the church adopted more contemporary music style in worship, a subtle shift began: away from congregational singing and toward a “praise and worship” model. Worship teams replaced the hand-waving song leader and drums provided the steady downbeat that set worshippers swaying and clapping in the pews.

There’s nothing wrong with swaying and clapping–Presbyterians and Episcopalians should try it! Maybe even raise their hands once in awhile. Every generation stamps its own image on the Church and amplifiers certainly don’t scare the Holy Spirit away. Besides, I’ve sat through plenty of listless, uninspired a cappella song services. There’s no scripture-inspired, guaranteed 100% right way to do singing.

Worship teams and bands can create a subtle distinction between themselves and the congregation.

And yet. Worship teams and bands can create a subtle distinction between themselves and the congregation. The congregation can become the “audience.” The worship leaders can become performers. Their voices are heard above all others. Out in the pews, those who have no particular interest in or gift for music are satisfied to leave it to the experts while they stand and lift their voices softly, or not at all. Out in the parking lot, late arrivals can hear the beat but they can’t hear the singing.

Which, I wonder, would God prefer to hear?

Music is God’s gift to everyone, especially the church. It is comfort, inspiration, and joy, especially in participation. Almost anyone can carry a tune and learn to harmonize. Almost anyone can improve on the musical ability he or she already has. And almost every church can be a little more purposeful about congregational singing, by reconnecting to the music, the words, and the joyful participation of the past.

September 18, 2018September 25, 2018

Bible Challenge Week 48: The Church – God’s Family

“I’m so glad to be a part of the family of God.” That was a popular chorus thirty years ago when our kids were growing up and we were trying to decide on a church to attend. The notion of church as family is preached from many pulpits, but how many listeners (or preachers) actually believe it? Church attendance drops every year, “organized religion” takes more hits than ducks in an arcade. Even professing Christians ditch the family terminology as soon as something they don’t like happens in the church they’re currently attending. As for “membership”–what’s that? Many churches don’t even have membership status.

But church as family is one of the plainest principles taught in the Bible. It’s not just a metaphor–it’s a fact. Jesus even said that there’s no marriage in heaven, and presumably no parent-child relationships. Christ will be our husband, and God (the Father) our Father. We don’t know exactly what this will look like, but we can be sure that the only family that will last into eternity is the church. Maybe we should start taking it more seriously.

For a dowloadable .pdf of this week’s Bible challenge, including scripture references, thought questions, and family activities, click below:

Bible Reading Challenge Week 48: The Church – God’s Family

Previous: Week 48: The Church – By Faith Alone

Next: Week 49: The Church – On to Glory!