God knows our hearts. In Exodus (c.20) he tells the people that when they erect an altar they’re not to add images to it. In fact, says God, don’t even use a tool on the stones or you’ll “profane it.” This prohibition, this tether on the Israelites’ creativity was not repression but kindness. He knew then, as he knows now, that once a tool was applied to the stones, the next thing to follow would be a carving, an image, something aesthetic and more to their liking than plain field stone. And of course, one image would not suffice. The unadorned stones would cry out for the same treatment, and soon the entire altar would be swallowed up in a work of art. So what’s wrong with art?
Nothing, in and of itself. Creativity is part of being made in God’s image, so it’s good. But art, visual art especially, when it comes along side worship won’t be content as an aid. It will make itself front and center. We like to see things. We crave image and spectacle, and our sinful hearts will always turn from the invisible and the realm of faith and bend toward the visible and the realm of the senses, especially if the visible thing is made by our own hands. The Bible calls this idolatry.
We don’t need to look far to see this error play itself out to its logical ends. Just open your eyes between Thanksgiving and New Year's. What began as an aid to worship, a special season marked out on the calendar to celebrate the incarnation (seems innocent enough), has become an orgy for the senses. The “aid” itself has taken center stage, making Christ a bit player. So we need to put Christ back in Christmas, right?
Nothing, in and of itself. Creativity is part of being made in God’s image, so it’s good. But art, visual art especially, when it comes along side worship won’t be content as an aid. It will make itself front and center. We like to see things. We crave image and spectacle, and our sinful hearts will always turn from the invisible and the realm of faith and bend toward the visible and the realm of the senses, especially if the visible thing is made by our own hands. The Bible calls this idolatry.
We don’t need to look far to see this error play itself out to its logical ends. Just open your eyes between Thanksgiving and New Year's. What began as an aid to worship, a special season marked out on the calendar to celebrate the incarnation (seems innocent enough), has become an orgy for the senses. The “aid” itself has taken center stage, making Christ a bit player. So we need to put Christ back in Christmas, right?
Wrong.
God never asked for our help here. Nowhere does his word prescribe the Christmas celebration or anything like it. And it’s no wonder—he knew we’d screw it up. He knew we’d get out our tools and start carving away, and we’d end up with something more aesthetically pleasing, more to our liking. He knew we would fashion an idol. What arrogance then to think that worship, as God himself specifies it, requires any help from us. Forgive us, Lord.
Instead of putting Christ back in Christmas, let’s do this: let’s recognize that he never asked to be there in the first place. Let’s use our tools for what they were meant for—subduing the earth and having dominion over it. And let’s let God determine how we’ll worship him.
God never asked for our help here. Nowhere does his word prescribe the Christmas celebration or anything like it. And it’s no wonder—he knew we’d screw it up. He knew we’d get out our tools and start carving away, and we’d end up with something more aesthetically pleasing, more to our liking. He knew we would fashion an idol. What arrogance then to think that worship, as God himself specifies it, requires any help from us. Forgive us, Lord.
Instead of putting Christ back in Christmas, let’s do this: let’s recognize that he never asked to be there in the first place. Let’s use our tools for what they were meant for—subduing the earth and having dominion over it. And let’s let God determine how we’ll worship him.
And if Christmas for you is more about presents and eggnog and, yes, even family, then take Christ out of Christmas, lest his name be profaned. He's King of kings, after all, not a bit player.
