Beyond Golden Calves: A Comprehensive Biblical Study of Idolatry; Part 1: The Foundation - What Is Idolatry?
When God’s good gifts become god-substitutes
Hello brothers and sisters and welcome to your first premium series where we’ll be diving deep into the topic of idolatry, especially as it applies in the modern age. While this first post will be available to everyone, successive posts in this 8-part series will be for premium subscribers only.
In the eighth century before Christ, King Hezekiah of Judah did something shocking. Something that would have seemed like sacrilege to the average Israelite. Something that, on the surface, looked like an act of rebellion against God Himself.
He took a bronze serpent— an artifact that had been preserved for over 800 years, an object that Moses himself had made at God’s explicit command, an item that had once been the means of miraculous healing for an entire generation —and he smashed it to pieces.
But this wasn’t rebellion. It was reformation. And in this single act of destruction, Hezekiah revealed one of the most dangerous truths about the human heart: Even the best gifts from God can become substitutes for God.
The story of Nehushtan— as Hezekiah contemptuously named it, calling it merely “a piece of brass” —is the perfect entry point into understanding what Scripture teaches about idolatry. Because if we’re honest, most of us think we have idolatry figured out. We picture ancient tribes bowing to statues. We imagine golden calves and Canaanite fertility gods. We’re confident that we, at least, would never fall for something so obvious.
But that confidence itself is dangerous. Because the Bible’s teaching on idolatry goes far beyond carved images. It extends into the hidden chambers of the heart, where we make ultimate things of ordinary goods—where we elevate creation above Creator, where we find our security, identity, and satisfaction in anything other than God Himself.
This is a series about that deeper idolatry. The kind that doesn’t announce itself with pagan rituals but creeps in through the back door of our devotion. The kind that uses religious language and even biblical categories, all while displacing God from His rightful throne in our hearts.
Let’s begin where Hezekiah began: with a bronze serpent that started as salvation and ended as an idol.
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The Bronze Serpent: From Healing to Idolatry
The Divine Command (Numbers 21:4-9)
The story begins in the wilderness, during Israel’s wandering between Egypt and the Promised Land. The people had grown impatient with the journey. They spoke against God and against Moses, complaining about the lack of bread and water, despising the manna God had faithfully provided. Their words dripped with contempt: “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?”
The response was immediate and terrifying: God sent fiery serpents among the people. The Hebrew text uses a vivid term: נְחָשִׁים הַשְּׂרָפִים (nechashim haseraphim)— literally the fiery/burning serpents/snakes. Serpents whose venom brought agonizing death. Many Israelites died, and the survivors came to Moses in panic, confessing their sin and begging for intercession.
God’s solution was… pretty weird. Perhaps even paradoxical. He didn’t remove the serpents. Instead, He instructed Moses:
“Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.” (Numbers 21:8)
The Hebrew text is both incredibly precise and yet almost unbelievably imprecise here. Moses made a נְחַשׁ נְחֹשֶׁת (nechash nechoshet), a “serpent of bronze” or “bronze serpent.”
There’s a wordplay in the Hebrew that’s lost in English: nachash means “serpent,” while nechoshet means “bronze,” “brass,” or “copper.” The three words share the same root consonants, creating an auditory connection that would have been obvious to Hebrew speakers.
In the Septuagint (LXX), the Greek translators rendered this as ὄφιν χαλκοῦν (ophin chalkoun)— “a bronze serpent” —preserving the physical description but losing the Hebrew wordplay.
What happened next was remarkable: “Moses made a bronze serpent and set it on a pole. And if a serpent bit anyone, he would look at the bronze serpent and live” (Numbers 21:9).
This wasn’t magic. The bronze serpent itself had no power. The healing came from God alone, but He chose to work through this visible, tangible means. Those who looked in faith lived. Those who refused, died.
The Christological Connection (John 3:14-15)
Centuries later, Jesus would reference this very event in His conversation with Nicodemus:
“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” (John 3:14-15)
The Greek text uses ὕψωσεν (hypsōsen) for “lifted up,” a word that carries both the literal meaning of being physically elevated and the figurative meaning of being exalted. Jesus was drawing a direct typological connection between the bronze serpent on the pole and His own crucifixion on the cross.
The parallels are profound:
Both involved being “lifted up” for all to see
Both provided healing from certain death
Both required only a look of faith to receive salvation
Both pointed to God as the source of rescue
Jesus Himself validated this object as a legitimate type, a shadow pointing forward to His redemptive work. The bronze serpent was good. It was God-ordained. It was even a prophetic picture of the Messiah.
And yet...
The Corruption (2 Kings 18:4)
Fast-forward approximately 800 years from Moses to the reign of Hezekiah. The bronze serpent had been carefully preserved through centuries of Israel’s history: through the conquest of Canaan, through the period of the Judges, through the united and divided kingdoms. It had survived the chaos of Saul, the rise of David and the glory of Solomon, and the apostasy of countless wicked kings.
But at some point— we don’t know exactly when —something shifted. The serpent went from being a memorial of God’s mercy to being an object of worship in its own right. The people began burning incense to it, treating it as if it held inherent power.
When Hezekiah came to the throne, he saw what his predecessors had either missed or tolerated. The bronze serpent had become an idol. And so, as part of his sweeping religious reforms, he did what needed to be done:
“He removed the high places and broke the pillars and cut down the Asherah. And he broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had burned incense to it. It was called Nehushtan.” (2 Kings 18:4)
The Hebrew text tells us something fascinating. Hezekiah gave it a name: נְחֻשְׁתָּן (Nechushtan). This name is dripping with contempt. It means, essentially, “a piece of bronze,” “a bronze thing,” or even “that brazen thing.” By naming it thus, Hezekiah was stripping away all the mystical significance the people had attached to it. He was saying, in effect: “This thing you’re worshiping? It’s just metal. Just bronze. Just a thing.”
The Septuagint preserves this moment: καὶ συνέτριψεν τὸν ὄφιν τὸν χαλκοῦν (kai synetripsen ton ophin ton chalkoun): “and he crushed the bronze serpent.” The Greek verb synetripsen conveys violent, thorough destruction. Not merely setting it aside but shattering it completely.
Notice what happened here: The people didn’t start worshiping the serpent because they rejected God. They started worshiping it while still claiming to worship God. They probably told themselves they were honoring the God who had worked through the serpent. They were burning incense to commemorate His merciful deliverance in the wilderness. They were being religious.
But they had crossed a line. The means had become the end. The sign had eclipsed the reality. The tool had replaced the Craftsman.
What Is Idolatry, Really?
The story of Nehushtan teaches us something crucial: Idolatry isn’t primarily about worshiping false gods. It’s about giving to anything— even good things, even God-ordained things —the devotion, trust, and ultimate allegiance that belongs to God alone.
Beyond Graven Images
When we think of idolatry, we typically go straight to the Second Commandment:
“You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God...” (Exodus 20:4-5)
The Hebrew word for “carved image” here is פֶּסֶל (pesel), which refers to something hewn or chiseled—an idol crafted by human hands. The Septuagint translates this as εἴδωλον (eidōlon), from which we get our English word “idol.”
But notice the prohibition isn’t merely against making such images. It’s against making them “for yourself” (לְךָ֥, lekha) and then bowing down to worship or serve them. The issue isn’t artistry or representation per se. After all, God Himself commanded the making of the cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant (Exodus 25:18-22). The issue is worship. The issue is ultimate allegiance. The issue is giving to a created thing the honor due to the Creator alone.
The Language of Contempt
Scripture employs a rich vocabulary to describe idols, and much of it is deliberately mocking. The biblical authors heap contempt on these supposed “gods,” exposing their utter worthlessness:
אֱלִילִים (elilim) – This term, often translated as “idols,” literally means “nothings,” “worthless things,” or “vain things.” It’s related to the word for “emptiness” or “vanity.” The Septuagint consistently renders it as εἴδωλα (eidōla). When Psalm 96:5 declares “For all the gods of the peoples are idols,” it’s literally saying they are elilim—empty, worthless nothings. The sound similarity to Elohim (God) is intentional, creating a wordplay that highlights the blasphemy of treating nothings as if they were divine.
גִּלּוּלִים (gillulim) – Perhaps the most contemptuous term of all, this word is related to gelal, meaning “dung” or “excrement.” It appears 48 times in the Hebrew Bible, with 39 of those in the book of Ezekiel. When God speaks through Ezekiel about Israel’s idols, He’s literally calling them “dung pellets.” The message is unmistakable: These things you treasure? They’re filth. The Septuagint also translates this as eidōla, though some manuscripts use βδελύγματα (bdelygmata), meaning “abominations” or “detestable things.”
עֲצַבִּים (atsabim) – This term means “labored things” or “made things,” emphasizing that idols are merely human craftswork. It can also carry the connotation of “sorrows” or “troubles,” hinting at the grief that idolatry brings.
תְּרָפִים (teraphim) – These were household idols or images, often associated with divination and false prophecy. They appear throughout the Old Testament as objects that competed with proper worship of Adonai.
שִׁקּוּצִים (shiqqutim) – “Detestable things” or “abominations,” often associated with the impure and unclean practices connected to idol worship.
Each of these terms reveals something about God’s attitude toward idolatry. He doesn’t merely disapprove of it. He finds it disgusting. He sees it as ridiculous. He treats it with utter contempt. And He does this because idolatry isn’t just wrong, it’s an assault on His glory and a rejection of His rightful place as the only true God.
The Heart of the Matter
But here’s where the biblical teaching on idolatry becomes truly convicting: The Old Testament prophets and New Testament apostles make clear that idolatry extends far beyond physical statues. It’s fundamentally a heart issue.
The First Commandment’s Priority
Before God prohibited graven images in the Second Commandment, He established the foundation in the First:
“You shall have no other gods before me.” (Exodus 20:3)
The Hebrew phrase עַל־פָּנָ֑י (al-panai), translated “before me,” literally means “upon my face” or “in my presence.” It could be understood as “before me” in the sense of priority, or “in my presence” in the sense of audacity. Either way, the meaning is clear: God demands exclusive worship. He will tolerate no rivals.
The Great Commandment
When Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, His answer cut to the heart of what prevents idolatry:
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” (Matthew 22:37)
This is a quotation from Deuteronomy 6:5, the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.”
The Hebrew word for “love” here is אָהַב (ahav), rendered in the Septuagint as ἀγαπήσεις (agapēseis): you shall love with agapē, the self-giving, wholehearted love that holds nothing back.
This is the antidote to idolatry: loving God supremely, with every part of our being, holding nothing in reserve. When our love is rightly ordered— when God is first, and everything else is loved in and through our love for Him —idolatry can find no foothold.
But when we invert this order, when we love created things more than the Creator, when we derive our sense of security, significance, or satisfaction from anything other than God Himself, we have crossed over into idolatry.
Paul’s Definition
The Apostle Paul makes this progression explicit in his letter to the Colossians:
“Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.” (Colossians 3:5)
The Greek is stark: πλεονεξίαν, ἥτις ἐστὶν εἰδωλολατρία (pleonexian, hētis estin eidōlolatria)—”covetousness, which is idolatry.” Paul makes a direct equation. He doesn’t say covetousness is like idolatry or leads to idolatry. He says it is idolatry.
Why? Because covetousness means desiring something so much that it takes God’s place in your heart. It means looking to a created or worldly thing— whether money, possessions, pleasure, comfort, security, or any other worldly thing —to provide what only God can give. It means bowing the knee of your heart to something other than the throne of heaven.
He repeats this identification in Ephesians 5:5: “For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God.”
The parenthetical phrase is critical: ὅ ἐστιν εἰδωλολάτρης (ho estin eidōlolatrēs), ”who is an idolater.” Not “who practices idolatry” as a separate sin, but who is an idolater by virtue of their covetousness.
In Philippians 3:19, Paul describes others whose end is destruction: ὧν ὁ θεὸς ἡ κοιλία (hōn ho theos hē koilia), ”whose god is their belly.” Their physical appetites had become their deity. Whatever controlled them, whatever they served, whatever gave them their sense of satisfaction; that was their god.
The Exchange
Romans 1:21-25 provides the most comprehensive diagnosis of idolatry in Scripture:
“For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things... because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen.”
Paul uses the word ἤλλαξαν (ēllaxan)— ”they exchanged” —twice. Idolatry is fundamentally an exchange. A trade. A substitution. Giving up something of infinite value (the glory of God) for something of finite value (created things). Choosing the lie over the truth. Worshiping the work of hands instead of the Hand that made all things.
This is the pattern of every idolatry: the great exchange. And it never, ever works in our favor.
Why Did Nehushtan Become an Idol?
Let’s return to our opening story. Why did the bronze serpent —something good, something God-ordained, something that had once mediated divine healing —become an object of illegitimate worship?
The Loss of Living Faith
First, and most importantly, the people had lost direct, living communion with God. When you’re walking closely with God, when you’re experiencing His presence, when His Word is alive in your heart, you don’t need religious relics to mediate His power. You have Him.
But when that immediate relationship grows cold, when the vibrancy of faith fades to the mechanics of religion, we start grasping for tangible substitutes. We want something we can see, something we can touch, something we can control.
The bronze serpent was still there after the living experience of God’s power had faded from memory. It became a substitute for what had been lost.
The Human Craving for Control
Second, physical objects give us an illusion of control. If we can determine where the god is (in this temple, on that altar, through this relic), and how to access the god (through these rituals, these sacrifices, this incense), then we can manage our relationship with the divine on our terms.
Living faith in the true God is far more demanding. He won’t be manipulated. He won’t be managed. He acts according to His own wisdom and timing. He requires that we trust Him even when we can’t see Him, even when He seems silent, even when His ways are past our understanding.
The bronze serpent, by contrast, was there. Visible. Manageable. Responsive to the prescribed rituals. It felt safer than trusting the invisible God who thundered from Sinai and whose ways are past finding out.
Confusing the Sign with the Reality
Third, they confused the means of grace with grace itself. God had once worked through the bronze serpent. Therefore— or so they reasoned —the serpent itself must have power. The channel became confused with the Source. The conduit was mistaken for the River.
This is an ever-present danger for God’s people. We take good things— Scripture, sacraments, prayer, church traditions, theological systems —and we begin to trust in them rather than in the God to whom they point. We treat the ladder as if it were the destination. We worship at the signpost instead of traveling the road.
The Passage of Time
Fourth, the very age and authenticity of the artifact made it dangerous. This was the actual serpent Moses made. There was no question about its provenance, no doubt about its connection to that dramatic moment in Israel’s history. It had genuine historical significance.
But that very authenticity made it easier to venerate. “This is what Moses touched with his own hands. This is what God commanded him to make. This is the very instrument God used to heal our ancestors.”
All true. All dangerous when it led to treating the object as sacred in itself.
Modern Nehushtans:
The Subtle Idolatries
Now here’s the uncomfortable question: What are our bronze serpents?
What good things— maybe even God-ordained things —have we elevated to a place they were never meant to occupy?
Religious Activities as Idols
Like the Israelites burning incense to Nehushtan, we can turn religious practices into idols. We can become so focused on the form of devotion that we lose the substance. We can:
Treat church attendance as if it earns God’s favor
Approach Bible reading as a duty to be checked off rather than as communion with God
Turn prayer into a mechanical routine
Make theological precision an end in itself, divorced from love for God and neighbor
The moment our religious activities become more important than the God they’re supposed to direct us toward, they’ve become idols.
Sacred Traditions as Idols
Every Christian tradition has its cherished practices, its “ancient landmarks,” its non-negotiable distinctives. Some of these are good and helpful. But when we begin to trust in the form more than in God Himself, when we defend the tradition with more passion than we pursue Christ, when our identity is more wrapped up in our ecclesiastical heritage than in our relationship with the living God and we’ve created a Nehushtan.
Systematic Theology as an Idol
Reformed theology is valuable to me (even if I feel, deep down, that it didn’t reform enough). But I’ve watched people make it into an idol. When knowing about God becomes more important than knowing God... when defending doctrine becomes more important than displaying Christ... when having the “right answers” matters more than having a transformed heart... when theological precision becomes our source of pride and identity rather than God’s glory being our treasure… In these cases and more, theology itself has become Nehushtan.
The irony is bitter: We can become idolaters of the very truths meant to prevent idolatry.
For as Christ Himself said to the church at Ephesus in Revelation 2:4–5: “But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember, then, from where you have fallen; repent and do the works you did at first. If not, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent.” Which (their first love being Christ) has been succinctly described as being so busy on the business of the King that they forgot about the King Himself.
The Bible Itself as an Idol
Is it possible to make an idol of the very Word of God?
Yes. When we love the Book more than we love its Author. When we study Scripture to accumulate tactics rather than to know Christ. When we use the Bible as a weapon in our debates rather than as a mirror for our souls. When our goal is to master the text rather than to be mastered by the God who speaks through it.
Bibliolatry is real. It’s subtle. And it’s particularly dangerous because it wears the cloak of devotion.
Christian Leaders as Idols
We can also turn people into idols: pastors, teachers, reformers, theologians, authors, even family members. When we look to human beings for the affirmation, guidance, or security that should come from God alone, we’ve elevated them to an idolatrous position.
This doesn’t mean we can’t have spiritual mentors or respect godly leaders. But the moment we need their approval more than God’s, the moment we trust their wisdom more than Scripture’s, the moment our faith would crumble if they failed, and especially the moment we elevate them instead of elevating God, they’ve become functional idols in our lives.
The Divine Jealousy
Why does God care so much about this? Why the harsh language? Why the severe consequences? Why did He strike Uzzah dead for touching the Ark? Why did He send serpents among the people? Why does He call Himself a “jealous God”?
The Hebrew word קַנָּא (qanna), translated “jealous,” appears in the Second Commandment:
“For I the LORD your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.” (Exodus 20:5-6)
The Septuagint renders this as θεὸς ζηλωτής (theos zēlōtēs): “a jealous God,” or more literally, “a zealous God.” This isn’t the petty jealousy of insecurity. This is the righteous jealousy of exclusive covenant love.
As C.S. Lewis put it: “God is jealous for us, not of us.”
He’s jealous because He knows that idolatry destroys us. Every false god is a liar, promising satisfaction it can never deliver. Every idol ultimately enslaves its worshipers. Every substitute for God leaves us empty, broken, and lost.
His jealousy is His mercy. He will not share our hearts with rivals because He knows those rivals will ruin us. He demands exclusive worship not because He’s insecure but because He loves us and knows that He alone can satisfy the deepest longings of the human soul.
How to Identify Your Idols
So how do we recognize our own bronze serpents? Here are some diagnostic questions:
What do you think about most? Your thoughts naturally gravitate toward what you treasure. If your mind constantly returns to money, romance, success, approval, comfort, or control—there’s your idol.
What would devastate you if you lost it? Beyond appropriate grief, what loss would make you question God’s goodness, feel that life wasn’t worth living, or cause your faith to crumble? That thing has become ultimate for you.
Where do you find your sense of worth? In your achievements? Your appearance? Your relationships? What other people think of you? Your knowledge? Your ministry? If your identity is tied to anything other than being God’s beloved child in Christ, you’ve found an idol.
What do you sacrifice other things to obtain or maintain? What will you compromise your integrity for? What will you neglect your family for? What will you sacrifice your health, your relationships, your peace, or your obedience to pursue? Your sacrifices reveal your altars.
What makes you anxious? Deep, persistent anxiety often reveals misplaced ultimate trust. If the thought of losing something fills you with dread, you may be depending on it for security that should come from God alone.
Where does your hope for the future rest? In retirement savings? In a relationship? In a change of circumstances? In vindication or success? If your hope would die with the death of that thing, it’s become your functional savior.
What do you pray about most? Not what you say you should pray about, but what actually fills your prayer life? Our prayers betray our priorities. They reveal what we really believe will make us happy, secure, or fulfilled.
The Danger of “Good” Idols
The most dangerous idols are the good ones. It’s easy to recognize the evil of bowing to Molech. It’s much harder to recognize when we’ve made an idol of our family, our ministry, our political party, our theological system, or our pursuit of justice.
Nehushtan was dangerous precisely because it was good. It had genuine historical significance. It had been part of God’s redemptive work. It had biblical warrant. It was connected to a powerful moment of divine mercy.
And that’s exactly why it had to be destroyed.
Hezekiah understood something profound: When a good gift becomes a god-substitute, it must be dethroned. Not because it’s bad, but because it’s taking the place of what is best. Not because it’s worthless, but because it’s been given worth that belongs to God alone.
This is why Jesus said, “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away” (Matthew 5:29). He wasn’t advocating for literal self-mutilation. He was teaching that even good things— things as valuable as sight itself —must be violently removed if they become obstacles to wholehearted devotion to God.
The Call to Vigilance
As we conclude this first exploration into biblical idolatry, let’s remember Hezekiah standing over the shattered pieces of that ancient bronze serpent. In a culture that prized antiquity and religious tradition, he had the courage to destroy something everyone else considered sacred.
That courage is still needed today.
We need to be willing to take an honest look at our hearts. To identify our bronze serpents. To recognize when good things have become god-things. To call out idolatry even when it wears the robes of respectability, even when it quotes Scripture, even when it has an 800-year pedigree.
The same God who commanded Moses to make the serpent commanded Hezekiah to destroy it. The same God who ordains means of grace calls us to worship Him alone. The same God who gives good gifts forbids us from loving the gifts more than the Giver.
In the coming posts in this series, we’ll explore the various forms idolatry takes throughout Scripture. We’ll examine physical idols and false gods. We’ll look at how sacred objects become snares. We’ll confront the idolatry of people, pursuits, and possessions. We’ll face the subtle idolatry of self. We’ll expose religious idolatry—the most deceptive form of all. And finally, we’ll discover how the gospel breaks the power of idolatry and sets us free to worship God alone.
But for now, let me leave you with one thought: The bronze serpent had to be destroyed not because it was evil, but because it had become a barrier to direct worship of God.
What barriers stand between you and wholehearted devotion to Him?
What good things have you made into ultimate things?
What needs to be called Nehushtan— reduced to what it truly is —and smashed to pieces?
These are hard questions. But they’re necessary questions. Because until we’re willing to confront our idols, we’ll never be free to worship the one true God with the undivided hearts He deserves and we were created for.
A Final Word
If you’ve found this exploration of idolatry challenging and convicting, if any part of it has made you angry, then it’s working as intended. The purpose of this series isn’t to shame you but to awaken you. To help you see with fresh eyes what Scripture has been saying all along: God will share His glory with no one and nothing. He demands not just primacy but supremacy. Not just first place but the throne itself.
And He does this not out of tyrannical ego but out of infinite love. Because He alone can satisfy. He alone can save. He alone is worthy. And He alone can give us the life we were created for; a life of knowing and enjoying and delighting in Him forever.
In the next post in this series, we’ll examine the most obvious form of idolatry: physical idols and false gods. We’ll look at the golden calf, Baal worship, and the humiliation of Dagon. We’ll see how Scripture systematically dismantles the claims of false deities and calls God’s people to exclusive worship of the One who made heaven and earth.
Until then, may the Spirit search your heart. May He expose what needs exposing. And may He draw you ever closer to the God who is jealous for you, who loves you with an everlasting love, and who will settle for nothing less than your wholehearted devotion.
“Little children, keep yourselves from idols.” — 1 John 5:21
For Further Study
Key Passages on the Bronze Serpent:
Numbers 21:4-9 (The creation of the serpent)
2 Kings 18:1-7 (Hezekiah’s reforms)
John 3:14-15 (Jesus’s reference to the serpent)
Key Passages on the Nature of Idolatry:
Exodus 20:1-6 (The First and Second Commandments)
Deuteronomy 6:4-5 (The Shema)
Isaiah 44:9-20 (The satire against idol-making)
Romans 1:18-25 (The exchange of truth for a lie)
Colossians 3:5 (Covetousness as idolatry)
1 John 5:21 (Keep yourselves from idols)
Hebrew Terms for Idols:
אֱלִילִים (elilim) – worthless things, nothings
גִּלּוּלִים (gillulim) – dung pellets (contemptuous)
פֶּסֶל (pesel) – carved image
עֲצַבִּים (atsabim) – labored things, made things
תְּרָפִים (teraphim) – household idols
שִׁקּוּצִים (shiqqutim) – detestable things
Questions for Personal Reflection:
What “good things” in my life have I allowed to become “god things”?
If I lost ___________, would my faith crumble? (That’s a potential idol.)
Do I love religious activities more than I love God Himself?
Am I more concerned with being right theologically than with knowing God intimately?
Who or what do I look to for the security, significance, and satisfaction that should come from God alone?
Coming Up Next
Next in the series: Part 2 - Physical Idols and False Gods (Paid Subscribers Only)
In our next post, we’ll examine the golden calf, Baal worship, and the systematic way Scripture exposes the impotence of false deities. We’ll compare Hebrew and Greek texts to see how both traditions mock idolatry, and we’ll apply the principles to modern forms of false worship.
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