And the Lord said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the people of Israel: ‘You have seen for yourselves that I have talked with you from heaven. You shall not make gods of silver to be with me, nor shall you make for yourselves gods of gold. An altar of earth you shall make for me and sacrifice on it your burnt offerings and your peace offerings, your sheep and your oxen. In every place where I cause my name to be remembered I will come to you and bless you. If you make me an altar of stone, you shall not build it of hewn stones, for if you wield your tool on it you profane it. And you shall not go up by steps to my altar, that your nakedness be not exposed on it.’” (Exodus 20:22-26, ESV)

I love old churches and cathedrals. The stained glass, the arches, the domes, the statues, and the timelessness of the building produce in me a sense of veneration and a sense of gratitude for the experience of being there.

But the question arises, “Who am I venerating?” 

There is a neighborhood in Philadelphia that has two Roman Catholic Churches within four blocks on the same street. Both are beautiful structures. 

The explanation as to why there are two churches of the same denomination so close together is that when they were built, the original occupants of each church spoke a different language from the other. According to Google Maps, one of the congregations still has services in Polish.

There is nothing wrong with worship that uses a language familiar to the worshippers. I would not be very encouraged by a service in Polish, and I’m sure native Polish speakers feel the same about English. 

Looking at the two buildings, one also gets a sense that there may have been some competition between the two groups to see who could build the more beautiful and grandiose church. Even now, when you read the reviews of these churches in Google Maps, the focus is on the buildings and how beautiful and ornate they are.

But we learn from the passage in Exodus quoted above that God never wanted the worship to be about the structure or equipment used in worship. The focus should be on the beauty of God, not on the beauty of the building.

The building is a tool to allow the gathering of worshippers, not an end in itself. The building should provide enough comfort to help us focus on worship, but not so ornate that we are distracted by what is around us.

The problem is that what one finds helpful, another may find distracting, so it is difficult to navigate what is best for a particular congregation. The important point is not the style of the worship, nor the style of the building used for worship, but whether the worship is God-focused and sincere.

In my own church, there are a few aspects of the worship service that I don’t find helpful (the smoke machine comes to mind), but I look past these to focus on the parts that prompt me toward genuine worship.

True worship is an exercise in humility. 

Broken people in need of grace come together in humility to worship a God who freely offers that grace.

That is the point of worship.

In 2 Chronicles 22:10-12, we read of the beginning of the brief reign of Athaliah in Judah following the death of her son Ahaziah. Ahaziah was not a good king but Athaliah was worse. The old phrase, “out of the pan and into the fire” comes to mind.

To consolidate her reign by eliminating challengers, Athaliah had the entire royal family put to death. Suffice it to say that she was not what we would consider a good person, she was willing to do anything or kill anyone she saw as a threat to her power.

She held this power for six years. To the true followers of Yahweh in Judah, this must have caused great unease. They had to wonder if God would ever restore right practice to the nation. It probably seemed like everything had gone wrong and that God had abandoned them. Six years is a long time to suffer under evil leadership.

There are two lessons that came to mind as I read this story.

The first lesson is that we cannot look to political leaders to provide moral leadership and stability. Too often, the motivation for seeking political position is the desire for power. They seek power to control other people, and power to manipulate society for their own benefit.

We are not given many details of what happened during Athaliah’s reign, but given the way that it started, knowing that she killed what she thought was the entire royal family, her reign was certainly not benevolent. The good people in Judah had to be vexed at how things were going.

In my own country, there is an ongoing discussion about the ability of our political leaders to practice legal insider trading. Since they know what laws are likely to be enacted, they can change their investment portfolios based on which companies will be winners and losers as a result of the new laws. This is hardly fair, and it is not what we elect our leaders to do.

I cannot place my sense of security in the hands of such people. They cannot bear that weight.

The second, and more important, lesson is that even when it looks hopeless, God is working behind the scenes to accomplish His purpose for humanity. In the case of Judah under Athaliah’s reign, God raised up Jehoshabeath to hide Josiah so that he could later become king and restore order to Judah.

I am encouraged by this. Yes, in the United States, we get to vote for who we want to lead our country. But often, someone other than my choice gets the position. I have seen laws enacted that go against my Christian principles. I have seen politicians seemingly sell their souls to advance their careers.

But this passage specifically, and the rest of Scripture in general, teaches me that God’s plan cannot, and will not, be thwarted.

No matter how it seems to be going in the moment, it is too early for despair.

In my normal hurry through the airport, even though I am always early, I noticed a small girl driving her parents crazy because she wanted to look at every piece of artwork in the display that I was rushing past. Each piece elicited a squeal of delight out of the girl and a roll of the eyes by the mom. 

In reflecting on this, I was reminded of Jesus’ command that we should “observe how the lilies of the field grow” (Matthew 6:28). To observe them means we have to stop and look. In my rush to do and accomplish, I miss the wonder of the beauty of the created world. I could learn a lot from that little girl.

But when I do take the time to stop and look, I am overwhelmed by the detail that I see. 

If you want to believe that the beauty we see around us in nature and art all happened by chance, be my guest. But the simplest and, in my mind, best answer is that someone designed that beauty into the object of our attention.

To appreciate that beauty is an act of worship of the one who created this world and who also created the artists that rearrange the world in beautiful ways.

What would life have been like for Lazarus after he was raised from the dead?

He would have had notoriety. Were social media available, he would be considered an influencer. Where else would you go for information about what happens when we die. Questions like, “what was death like” would have been asked.

One would think that Lazarus would have new perspective on the idea of “don’t sweat the small stuff” after dying and being brought to life. Unfair criticism, threats, wealth, and social standing, the things we get bothered by, would likely have little, if any, effect on Lazarus. 

John tells us that the Jews wanted to kill him because of his testimony of being brought back to life (see John 12:10). Lazarus had to go through life with a target on his back from the leaders of his community. 

While I have never heard a sermon proclaiming this thought, I wonder if Lazarus should represent the paradigm for the Christian life. Paul tells us that Christians have been raised to a new life (2 Corinthians 5:17) even though we have not yet experienced physical death.

If I am truly raised to a new life, then the little things that throw me off, the little things that I allow to push me toward shame or condemnation, should be inconsequential. My frame of reference should be like Lazarus’ knowing that death, hardship, and the opinion of others are shallow threats.

I wonder if, after experiencing death and resurrection, Lazarus had a renewed sense of who God created him to be and much of the junk that marred the image of God in him was burned away. He was given a new, true identity in his relationship to Jesus and the new life Jesus had given him.

I want that for myself. Many people have tried to define who I am, and in my idolatry, I have let them. I call it idolatry because I have been more concerned with what people think about me than what God thinks about me. I have allowed them to chisel away at the image of God in me.

This is not to say that I should not listen to feedback about my behavior, but that feedback needs to be put through the lens of Scripture so that I am more concerned about what God says. 

This was not modeled in my church-going family. This was not modeled in the churches we attended. In fact, it was overtly taught in my family that we needed to be very concerned about what people thought of us. We needed to dress a certain way, and we needed to act a certain way, and we needed to talk a certain way. 

The only problem was that this “certain way” was not based on Scriptural principles, but was based on a legalistic church culture. This is a lot like the Jewish religious practice in which Lazarus grew up and which Jesus came to confront.

What I want to adopt is a Lazarus perspective. His perspective of what really mattered would have been shaped by a glimpse into eternity. I am guessing that he put everything through the grid of what prepared him for reuniting with his savior, Jesus.

I’ve been a Christian for a long time, and I am a long way from being fully yielded to this perspective. But it is my hope, and I believe the evidence proves this out, that I have made progress and will continue to draw nearer to Jesus as I allow the wrong perspectives and the wrong voices to have diminishing influence in my choices.

I will strive to have the Lazarus perspective.