Lord Have Mercy | For Our Incessant Idolatry (Colossians 3:1-6)

If a loved one needed heart surgery, would you trust a first-year med student or an experienced surgeon? If accused of a crime, would you rely on a legal intern or a top attorney? We instinctively seek those who can best care for us. Apply that to the First Commandment: when God tells us to have no other gods, it’s not because He craves attention but because no one loves or cares for us like He does. Trusting anything more than Him isn’t just sinful—it’s self-destructive. As we begin our series on the Ten Commandments, may the Spirit lead us to pray, “Lord, have mercy, for our incessant idolatry.”

Transcript

Imagine these two situations with me. If a loved one needed serious heart surgery, would you trust a first-year medical student to perform the operation? Would you let a legal intern defend you in court if you were falsely accused of a crime? No way. You’d want the best—the surgeon who has done this procedure two thousand times, the lawyer with a record of winning impossible cases. So why, then, do we entrust our souls, our security, our happiness to things that are utterly unqualified for the job?

This is the heart of the First Commandment: “You shall have no other gods.” We hear it and assume God is making some self-centered demand, as if He just needs to be first in our lives because He likes the attention. But that’s not it at all. God commands us to trust Him alone because He knows there is no one, no thing, that can love and care for us like He can. To love and trust anyone or anything more than God is not just offensive to Him—it is wildly self-destructive. Paul puts it bluntly in Colossians 3:5: “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature…which is idolatry.” Idolatry is not just golden calves and carved images. It’s our tendency to cling to things that cannot save us, to trust in things that will eventually fail us. And make no mistake—idolatry is deadly.

If I asked you to name the most dangerous idol in your life, would you know how to answer? Most of us don’t bow down to statues. But idolatry is sneakier than that. It’s about what we trust. It’s about what we turn to when life shakes us. If you want to spot your idols, ask yourself two questions: What do I fear losing the most? Where do I run when I’m stressed, hurting, or anxious? For some, the answer is money. We trust our bank accounts more than we trust God’s promises. When the numbers look good, we sleep well. When the market dips, we panic. For others, it’s approval. We crave the validation of people. We live and die by how many likes, comments, or affirmations we receive. Some of us put our trust in our own abilities. We think, “As long as I work hard, as long as I plan well, as long as I stay in control, everything will be okay.”

These idols are so subtle, so insidious, that we often don’t realize we’re bowing down to them. But let’s be honest: how many minutes of our lives do we spend completely trusting God above all things? If we’re being real, the number is frighteningly low. Our idolatry is incessant. And here’s the worst part: whatever you trust more than God will eventually break your heart. One of my favorite lines from the old hymnal’s confession of sins goes like this: “We have feared, loved, and trusted in other things more than in you.” That gets it exactly right. Idolatry is misplaced fear, misplaced love, misplaced trust. And misplaced trust always leads to disappointment. The market crashes. The relationship falls apart. The dream job turns out to be just another job. The thing we swore would finally make us happy… doesn’t.

Tim Keller put it this way: “If you center your life and identity on your spouse or partner, you will be emotionally dependent, jealous, and controlling. The other person’s problems will be overwhelming to you. If you center your life and identity on your family and children, you will try to live your life through your kids until they resent you, or they have no self of their own. At worst, you may hurt them when they disappoint you.”

It doesn’t matter what the idol is—whether it’s success, beauty, influence, security, or control—it will let you down. Idols demand sacrifice, and they never stop taking. Meanwhile, God stands ready to give. When Paul tells us in Colossians 3:2 to “set your minds on things above, not on earthly things,” he’s not just giving us a pious platitude. He’s pointing us to reality. Earthly things fade. They disappoint. They can’t hold the weight of our trust. But God can. Consider Jesus. Look at Him in the Garden of Gethsemane. Look at Him on the cross. Did He demand attention? Did He demand that we prove our loyalty to Him? No. He gave. He poured out His life for sinners who had rejected Him, who had trusted everything but Him. He looked at people who had turned to money, power, relationships, status—and He died for them anyway. For us. For you. For every time we’ve trusted our own wisdom instead of His Word. For every moment we’ve feared people more than we’ve feared Him. For every time we’ve run to distractions instead of His promises. Jesus died for our idolatry. And then He rose.

That’s why Paul can say, “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). Our idols tell us, “You need to earn security, happiness, love.” Jesus says, “It is finished.” Everything you need, you already have in me. This means we don’t have to carry the crushing weight of trying to secure our own future. We don’t have to live in fear of losing our identity. We are hidden with Christ. Safe. Whole. Loved. What would it look like to actually live like this is true? What if, instead of panicking over finances, we trusted that God’s provision is enough? What if, instead of craving human approval, we rested in the Father’s love? What if, instead of striving for control, we surrendered to His perfect care?

What if we truly believed that no one—not money, not power, not relationships—can care for us anywhere close to as well as God can? That’s what the First Commandment is all about. Not control. Not coercion. But love. God knows that when we set our hearts on Him, we are actually free. Free from the constant stress of trying to hold our lives together. Free from the endless chase after things that never satisfy. So today, let’s pray: Lord, have mercy, for our incessant idolatry. And then let’s rejoice. Because our lives are not in our hands at all. They are in the hands of a God who has been faithful for all eternity. The God who has already given everything for us. The only one worthy of our trust. Amen.