Meditation on Solomon

Passages:  I Kings 11:1-12; 11:14-12:20.

Deuteronomy 17:14-20; Deuteronomy 23:17; Leviticus 18:21.

There’s a very appropriate word that gets thrown around a lot in theological literature that the average person in the pew knows by practice but not by dictionary definition.  The word is syncretism.  Syncretism is about trying to have it both ways when the two ways are mutually exclusively.   Syncretism is about allowing one’s worship of Almighty God and God alone to be tainted with a non-Christian world view.  Syncretism is about mixing two or more religious systems, taking a little bit of this and some of that.  Why?  Maybe some people are hedging their bets religiously; maybe some people do it out of ignorance (usually the reason I think); maybe some people do it to please someone else, such as a family member; maybe some people do it truly believing that, since there is no one way to God, mixing them together is perfectly acceptable and actually best, the most open-minded way to go.

The other day when the weather warmed up to over 60 degrees, I went for a walk at Camp Jordan in East Ridge.  Many people were out, and almost all of them were walking their dogs.  A middle-aged couple approached me with their two Corgis, beautiful animals.  The male was affectionate and wanted to kiss me; the female was standoffish.  “You must have good energy,” the woman said.  I was flamboozled by that.  One, because I detest that New Age Crappola, and wanted to say something to that effect; second, because I don’t think the dog’s reaction had anything to do with me, except that I know better than to act fearful around any strange dog.   But I was nice about it and talked to her about dog breeds. 

I also saw on Yahoo when I went to check my email, “How the stars can tell you what’s in store for you in 2011.”  Again, I was appalled.  Why anyone in this “modern” age would be concerned about astrology is beyond me.  It is “persistent nonsense,” to quote textbook author Robert Lamm.    

And then there’s yoga.  I can’t for the life of me take a yoga class.  I just can’t—it would offend my conscience too much.  I will not judge a Christian who does, and I would love to benefit from the stretching, but I get as far away from anything called yoga as I can. 

But it occurred to me, how many people who sit in pews across America do check their horoscopes and do read articles about their Chi and how they can tap into their energy centers and auras.  Syncretism is alive and well.   Sometimes it is alive and well in our belief systems; sometimes it is alive and well in our pocketbooks; sometimes in our TV watching or reading; sometimes in our hearts. 

Why is syncretism such a big deal with God?  Isn’t God big enough to let us have it both ways?  Doesn’t he understand that people have a hard time with commitment?   God is jealous, a character trait we self-righteously find suspect but is perfectly reasonable given everything else we know about God.  Theological jealousy means exclusivity, not poor self-esteem.  God doesn’t allow worship of other gods in His presence.  And God teaches us, directly and through examples in the Bible, that syncretism in worship leads to syncretism and dissipation in everything else.  As far as God is concerned, lack of solitary commitment to Him is lack of dependence, and lack of dependence is synonymous with pride, ingratitude, bad doctrine, and poor understanding.

The lack of commitment to the LORD alone in Solomon’s life was part and parcel with his lack of commitment to one wife; to his people, whom he oppressed; to self-control in possessions and sex; and to his son Rehoboam, who grew up to be at least a spoiled brat and tyrant.  

Solomon had a major problem with syncretism.  Despite being the wisest man, he was not excluded from this sin.  He probably, because he was so wise, knew exactly what he was doing but he did it anyway—unless he had early onset dementia (not improbable).  

In all his wisdom Solomon probably came up with some great justifications for his behavior and choices: We need these alliances, since Israel is a small and geographically vulnerable nation; God’s word is flexible in some places, and we can find the loopholes; I am being blessed while I do this, so I must be doing something right; everyone else does it; how many wives is too many, really?  And of course the main one:  I am still worshiping God when I worship these other gods.  God knows my heart and that He is really more important than all the rest of these random deities my wives serve, so it’s ok.

(There is one instance in the Old Testament where one character was given permission to be what appears to be syncretism, but is not.  When Naaman converted, he said to Elisha, “I have to go in with the king to the pagan temple, and I have to kneel, but I won’t be doing it for real.”  He was given leave to do so, but like any other Old Testament story, it should not be taking normatively, only as a temporary situation for a specific person.)

I can only conclude that wisdom doesn’t mean heart change.  Having wisdom doesn’t mean following wisdom.  David, Solomon’s father, “was a man after God’s own heart.”  We see in the Old Testament passages that even though David did some really stupid and unwise acts and succumbed to the flesh, he never lost total devotion to the LORD only.  He was never involved in pagan worship, he never allowed it in Israel, and he married nice Jewish girls, not heathen women for political gain.  That is what it comes down to. 

I have always prayed for wisdom, but now I see that wisdom only takes us part way.  Wisdom is the foundation; it has to be there.  But no one wants to live in a building that is just a foundation.  We must study the Word (and with it I believe the history of the faith) more than ever, because much syncretism comes from lack of understanding about what a truly Christian world view is.  But humans can even take God’s wisdom and use it to their own advantage and still ignore the path we are to follow and the heartfelt commitment we are to feel. 

My lesson from Solomon is to turn my heart—which in the Jewish thinking is mind and will and emotion—to God, not just my intellect.  I have held it back so many times.  Small example.  I hoard things.  Not like those people on TV, because I keep it neatly boxed up and in a closet, and I recycle paper obsessively.  But I hoard old clothes and fabric, specifically.  I keep saying, “I will use that fabric,” but I haven’t in decades.  My heart was too attached to that silly fabric.  I have contacted someone to give it away.  Now, I don’t consider my having that fabric a sin.  But I do consider my attitude toward all my unnecessary possessions—books, old clothes that are neither stylish nor fit me, craft items, my son’s toys--that I can’t bring myself to give away a sin.  I am slowly working on it, not wanting to be wasteful about where they go, but at the same time not wanting to make excuses as to why I keep something I haven’t read or used or worn in years upon years.  What am I trusting?  Why do I think I need these items?

This is a heart matter, not a wisdom matter.  So my point for the lesson today is, are you a person after God’s own heart?  Is your heart, and then all that follows, focused on Him and Him alone, how you can please Him today?  Are you syncretistic about your worship?