The Supreme God
January 9, 2022
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
Exodus 20:1-3
1 And God spoke all these words, saying, 2 “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 3 “You shall have no other gods before me.
If you would, please grab the bulletin I hope you were given as you walked in and glance at the cover. If you don’t have one, look over someone’s shoulder. That verse on the cover of the bulletin comes from the first psalm, the headwaters, so to speak, of blessing that pours through all the psalms. The first two verses read, “Blessed is the man / who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, / nor stands in the way of sinners, /nor sits in the seat of scoffers; / but his delight is in the law of the LORD, / and on his law he meditates day and night.”
When the Bible speaks of God’s law it can mean a few things, all of them related. The law can mean all that God commands or, more narrowly, the first five books of the Bible, called the Torah, which just means law, which includes a lot of things that God commands. The word law can also have the narrowest meaning of the Ten Commandments. Regardless of which meaning it has in Psalm 1, notice what the psalmist says of the blessed person: “his delight is in the law of the LORD.”
Along with a half dozen or so other men at this church, I have been called to shepherd you for your good. Part of being one of your shepherds means knowing you—your strengths and weaknesses, your temptations and victories and struggles and griefs and backgrounds and so on. As one of your shepherds, it’s my belief that likely you have no idea how to make sense of that phrase. In what sense are the commandments of God, his law, something to delight in and worth meditating upon? For many of you, your Protestant evangelical Christian background has not given you the proper framework to makes sense of that statement. The law of God, you think, is only a hammer to show us our sin. And for others here, those who are not Christians, likely you see the law of God as the apex of God’s desire to be a killjoy, so only a weirdo would think of God’s law as something that brings delight.
I believe that if you give me 25 minutes this morning, you’ll begin to get a taste of why the law of God is a delight. And if you’ll give us the next ten weeks, as we study each of the ten commandments, you’ll have a framework not only to understand the psalmist but also your heart will hopefully sing along with him. Let’s pray as we begin for God to give us the tastebuds to delight in God’s law. “Dear heavenly Father . . .”
Introduction: The Law as a Swiss Army Knife
To be candid with you, my research on the ten commandments hit the point of overwhelm about a week ago. So much comes from so many authors—past and present—to contribute to our understanding of the ten commandments. If you wanted to and had the means to do so, you could assembly a library of books on the topic. Most of them, however, would be old. Except for the desire of some to place the ten commandments on courthouses, we don’t think about them much today. And that’s not to our benefit.
During my preliminary research, I’ll tell you one little nugget of wisdom that came from a few paragraphs by one author. This nugget, I think, could become one of the most helpful metaphors for us to keep in mind during our series. The author spoke of the law of God as a multi-use tool (Ryken, Exodus, 495ff). A multi-use tool—what’s that? you say. That’s the generic name. Think of a Swiss Army Knife. A Swiss Army Knife is a pocketknife with a half-dozen uses. You can open a can or cut with scissors or tighten a screw. It’s one tool with many functions, hence the name multi-use tool. The law of God is like that. It’s doing many things at once. Most obviously it prescribes right and wrong: you shall not murder, you shall not lie, you shall not covet, you shall not, as we read this morning, have other gods besides the real God. In this way the law of God is first and foremost law, just as a Swiss Army Knife is first and foremost a knife. We don’t call it a Swiss Army Screwdriver. Why? Because primarily it’s a knife. The law of God is primarily prescribing right and wrong. But some of you know this as laws only function. And frankly, you don’t see the law of God as a pocketknife but a giant, loud chainsaw designed to mow down a forest of sinners. That’s how you see law.
For us to move forward—for us to see God’s law also as a source of blessing and delight and meditation—we’ll have to see God’s law as doing more than this. For example, God’s law reveals the heart of God for a society to flourish. In giving good laws, God wants society to flourish. Do you want people to murder? No, and neither does he. God doesn’t want anarchy. Showing us God’s desire for society to flourish is a really important function of the law.
Also, the ten commandments show us that God has at the center of his being an ethical core. He’s not capricious and arbitrary and blown about by how he feels on a certain day. What pleases God today, pleases him tomorrow. That’s really important. God is steady. That’s a good thing. The ten commandments show us this.
God’s law also shows us how to live. You might not, at least at first, see this as good, but think about something: God’s commandments shine light into our wilderness. Many of you look at our country and all the insanity and think you could design it better. And perhaps you could. But imagine how overwhelming it would be to completely rewrite everything. In the context of the ten commandments and the book of Exodus, which I’ll say more about later, Israel is a new nation. They have just been constituted as a nation and they need light in their wilderness. They need instruction. And God, in his kindness, gives it to them.
Also, the law of God shows us our need for Jesus. Without the conviction of the law, we might not see our need for savior.
Do you see what I mean? I hope you can begin to see the “multi-use” aspect of the law of God. The law of God does many things at once. Now, each week we won’t make an effort to say all the ways the law of God is good. We won’t show you every tool in the pocketknife. But we’ll probably hold up one or two.
And with that in mind, we now come to the first commandment from Exodus 20:3, “You shall have no other gods before me.” The first commandment gives the blessing of the stability of the supremacy of God. That’s a mouthful, so I’ll say it again. The first commandment—you shall have no other gods before me—gives the blessing of the stability of the supremacy of God. When God saves you, just as he saved Israel, he does so from a society steeped in hundreds of gods that all clamor for our attention. There is nothing stable about a fully pluralistic society. When every god is capricious and arbitrary and clamors for your attention, and you can, at any moment, fall prey to not doing the right thing to please one of the gods of this age, you’ll go crazy. Some of you are going crazy, and this is why. Your world is unstable at its core because your gods are unstable.
How we serve other gods
You might say, “But I don’t serve gods. I don’t even believe in any gods, let alone a god and especially the Christian God, so I certainly don’t serve gods.” But we all do. That’s the assumption of the Bible. This first commandment just assumes you worship. The question it’s asking of us is which God or gods will we worship. Consider the words of Jesus on this point. Jesus once said, “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money” (Matt. 6:24). You’ll notice his words speak in the same breath of “serving God” and “serving money.” Serving language is worship language.
When most of you think of idolatry and other gods, you think of statues and little chubby metal idols. The worship of gods can include these sorts of idols, but it’s better to see this sort of, what I’ll call, “classic idolatry” as the outworking of something deeper, not the thing itself. When you see people worship statutes, it is an outworking of their heart—and that’s the focus of the Bible and the first commandment. A god, as Jesus understands it, is anything or anyone you give your ultimate allegiance to. In the words of Jesus, “You cannot serve God and money.” Serving anything other than God—that is, giving your ultimate allegiance to anything other than God—is what the Bible considers having other gods before the real God. So whether you even believe in gods or gods, according to the Bible, we’ve all served other gods than the real God. And in this way, we all have broken the first commandment.
I mentioned being overwhelmed by the amount of research available to us on the ten commandments. One treasure trove of reflections comes from a document created in the middle of the seventeenth century called the Westminster Larger Catechism. The Westminster Larger Catechism is less famous than the Westminster Shorter Catechism because the shorter one is, well, shorter. And people like shorter.
A catechism is a series of questions and answers thoughtfully prepared to teach a subject. The Westminster Larger Catechism is thoughtfully designed to teach a great many things about Christianity. And there is a large section on the ten commandments. That catechism has almost 200 questions, and over 50 of them—so over 25%—relate to the law of God, even specifically the ten commandments. The questions and answers from 90 through 149 add up to over 8,000 words (counting the references). In the 1650s they didn’t have Netflix. And that might make them better than us, not worse.
Consider, for example, Q. 91., “What is the duty which God requireth of man?” Then there is an answer about keeping God’s revealed will, which leads into the discussion of the law of God and the ten commandments. Consider Q. 98., “Where is the moral law . . . comprehended?” Answer, “The moral law is . . . comprehended in the ten commandments, which were delivered by the voice of God upon mount Sinai, and written by him in two tables of stone; and are recorded in the twentieth chapter of Exodus. The four first commandments containing our duty to God, and the other six our duty to man.” Then there is, Q. 99, “What rules are to be observed for the right understanding of the ten commandments?” I won’t read the answer. Q. 100., “What special things are we to consider in the ten commandments?” I won’t read the answer. Q. 101., “What is the preface to the ten commandments?” There are thoughtful answers to all of these. You can Google them if you’d like to read them. It will help you.
Then we come to Q. 105., “What are the sins forbidden in the first commandment?” I’ll pause here. Remember, I’m talking about how we break the first commandment, the ways you have other gods before the real God. According to the Westminster Larger Catechism answer 105, you put other gods before the real God in your . . .
. . . atheism, in denying, or not having a God;
idolatry, in having or worshiping more gods than one, or any with, or instead of the true God;
the not having and avouching him for God, and our God;
the omission or neglect of any thing due to him, required in this commandment;
ignorance, forgetfulness, misapprehensions, false opinions, unworthy and wicked thoughts of him;
bold and curious searching into his secrets;
all profaneness, hatred of God;
self-love, self-seeking, and all other inordinate and immoderate setting of our mind, will, or affections upon other things, and taking them off from him in whole or in part;
vain credulity, unbelief, heresy, misbelief, distrust, despair, incorrigibleness, and insensibleness under judgments;
hardness of heart;
pride;
presumption;
carnal security;
tempting of God;
using unlawful means, and trusting in lawful means;
carnal delights and joys;
corrupt, blind, and indiscreet zeal;
lukewarmness, and deadness in the things of God;
estranging ourselves, and apostatizing from God;
praying, or giving any religious worship, to saints, angels, or any other creatures;
all compacts and consulting with the devil, and hearkening to his suggestions;
making men the lords of our faith and conscience;
slighting and despising God and his commands;
resisting and grieving of his Spirit, discontent and impatience at his dispensations, charging him foolishly for the evils he inflicts on us;
and ascribing the praise of any good we either are, have, or can do, to fortune, idols, ourselves, or any other creature.
It’s a long list. Some of them you’ll quickly shrug off. Well, I haven’t made a compact with the devil today. Others, like the one listed right after that one, the “making men the lords of our faith and conscience,” is as real of a problem today as ever and one way many of us break the first commandment as we too highly esteem men as the lords of our faith.
There was an article in The Atlantic that seemed to get a lot of attention between Christmas and New Year’s. It’s by one of their senior editors. I’d like to read you some of it, a lot actually. Here is part of the first three paragraphs from her article.
I had wanted, I thought, soapstone counters and a farmhouse sink. I had wanted an island and a breakfast nook and two narrow, vertical cabinets on either side of the stove; one could be for cutting boards and one could be for baking sheets. I followed a cabinetry company called Plain English on Instagram and screenshotted its pantries, which came in paint colors like Kipper and Boiled Egg. Plain English cost a fortune, but around a corner in the back of its New York showroom you could check out the budget version, called British Standard. But it cost a fortune too. . . .
My husband talked to the architect; my husband talked to the builder. And I kept paring the plans down, down, making them cheaper, making them simpler. I nixed the island and found a stainless-steel worktable at a restaurant-supply store online for $299. I started fantasizing about replacing the counters with two-by-fours on sawhorses and hanging the pots from nails on the wall. Slowly, I realized, I didn’t want this kitchen. Slowly, I realized, I didn’t want this life.
I didn’t want to renovate. I wanted to get divorced.
So, she doesn’t really want to renovate her house, she says, but her life. She then proceeds to throw off any and all restraints and commitments that she perceives to hinder her ability to be what she believes to be her true self, commitments to her husband and her children. The article goes on.
I didn’t have a secret life. But I had a secret dream life—which might have been worse. I loved my husband; it’s not that I didn’t. But I felt that he was standing between me and the world, between me and myself.
Then she talks about the divorce and moving out. In a rather honest moment she says,
By breaking up our family, I’d taken something from my kids that they were never going to get back. Naturally, I thought about this a lot. There was nothing I could give them to make up for it, except, maybe, a way of being in the world: of being open to it, and open in it.
She goes on to talk about how she had to tell her kids about the divorce and why it was happening. The title of the article, which I haven’t shared yet is “How I Demolished My Life.” And you’re thinking, Yeah you did. And your husband and your kids and so many other things, including any relationship with the God who made you and loves you and commands you to serve him. And in this way, you might think the article is a confession, except note the subtitle, “A home-improvement story.” The author tries, as best as she can, to look at the reality of the truth of God or gods in the eyes and the goodness of commitments and vows and responsibilities. Still, then she concludes that not only has she done nothing wrong, but she’s done something virtuous and beautiful. The final two paragraphs go like this.
Maybe I’m deluding myself. Maybe I’m not free of anything and I just want different objects, a different home, maybe someday—admit it—a different man. Maybe I’m starting the same story all over again. “For what?” you’d ask me, and you’d be right.
But I don’t think so. I think I’m making something new. (Honor Jones, “How I Demolished My Life,” The Atlantic, December 28, 2021)
This article, to be sure, is extreme. A celebration of the god of Self before the God of gods—that’s for sure. In God’s grace, God doesn’t allow most people don’t to live this selfishly all the time. If we all lived this way all the time, the world would fall apart. But we see principals in the extreme, which can be helpful. There is nothing stable about this home improvement story, not for her or anyone one around her.
And while there seemed to be a lot of pushback on the article online about how selfish it is, I would say this: you might not want to admit it, and even though you might scoff at this article, I think this is where a lot of your daydreaming and fantasies and deep desires tend to linger. If I only . . . If I only could get a better life in 2022 . . . if only I get happy, if I get a spouse, if I get the right spouse, if my kids behave, if I get the promotion . . . if I could only not age . . . if . . . if . . . And for some of you, you think God is the source of your life, but in reality you’re saying to God, “I’ll follow you if you really give me what I want.” In that situation, God isn’t your God. Whatever you want to get is your god. And you’re just using the real God as a means to get what you want. All these are ways we break the first commandment. What is God to do with us?
How the real God serves us
If you see yourself as a violator of the first commandment, a lawbreaker, someone guilty, which should be all of us, then there is good news. Look again at how Exodus 20 begins, which we often call the preface to the ten commandments.
And God spoke all these words, saying, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.
“You shall have no other gods before me.”
God went into Egypt, and he took on the greatest king from the greatest nation in the world, and he made a fool of him. If you’re an Egyptian, that season when God made nonsense of your gods is the least stable time you’ve ever experienced.
As I pointed out in the fall, we often think of these plagues against Egypt as strange and arbitrary, but they are not. You can pair each plague with the god or gods that were specifically made nonsense of in each plague (cf. Num. 33:3–4 The Message). For example, when God turned the Nile to blood, God defeated the god Hapi and goddess Isis who both oversaw the Nile. In the plague of frogs, God defeated the goddess Heqet, a god imagined as having a frog head and oversaw fertility. And when you hear that, you should hear the nonsense of the real God sending legions of frogs into the very bedrooms of Pharoah. And on and on we could go through each plague, including the gods who oversaw the sun and were defeated in darkness for three days (See the chart in Roy B. Zuck, Basic Bible Interpretation, 83.). Finally, God kills the firstborn in the line of a kingly dynasty, which is God’s way saying, “You’re not God, Pharoah. I am.”
When we understand this, it makes a lot more sense of Genesis 1 and the creation account. We tend to focus lot on the how long was the “day” but do so at the expense of seeing what God wants us to see: the earth is not God, the moon is not God, the sun is not God, man is not God. God is God, and there are no gods besides him.
This is what the preface to the ten commandments reminds us, that the real God loves you and redeems you. As I’ve said before and we’ll say again, the ten commandments come not in chapter 1 but in chapter 20. God doesn’t say, “Fix your problems, follow my law, and I’ll save you.” Notice, again, the wording to the preface of the ten commandments.
And God spoke all these words, saying, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.
It would be one thing for me to point out that it is important to see the gospel order—saved and rescued and then called to serve. But it’s not just me. God thinks it is important to remind you of this because it is important.
Conclusion: Stability
Let me close by coming back to that word “stability” I used earlier. I’ll tell you that I’m borrowing that word stability from something I heard this fall. I was at an event at a local school where a leader was talking about the goodness of Christian education. The leader was listing some of the blessings of Christian education. His first comment was about the blessing of the stability of a biblical worldview, that is, to look at the world from the posture of knowing the one true God, knowing his will and his ways and his law, and what it means to follow this God and be loved by him and cared for by him and to let that view of the world shape everything about everything—that, he said, is the stability of the biblical worldview.
In the scriptures we read that, “Everyone who believes in [Jesus] will not be put to shame” (Rom. 10:11). Think how stable your life could be if you really had no other gods before the real God. The good news is that you can. Jesus loves lawbreakers with a love that takes away our sin and gives us his power and presence. Maybe now you have some taste of why the psalmist would say, “Blessed is the man who . . . his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night” (Ps. 1:1–2).
Before I pray, I’ll mention that next week we’ll be talking about, as you might expect, the second commandment. I’d encourage you to read it beforehand and see if you can figure out this one thing: what is the difference between the first and second commandments. We’ll give the answer next week. Let’s pray . . .
Family Discussion Questions
Can you list all of the ten commandments without looking? If you missed any of them, which ones did you miss? Why?
Why do you think this is the first commandment? What are ways you feel tempted to break the first commandment?
Why is it critical to understand the “preface” to the commandments and the context of Israel’s recent history? How does the preface underscore the “gospel theme” throughout scripture?
