Our Olympic God

I love the Olympics.  The hottest competitions, the most impressive ceremonies, the golden moments, the inspiring stories, the knife-sharp tension, the brilliant smiles, the Michael Phelps power, the Gabby Douglas grace...in short the best the globe has to offer of everything.

In the midst of my dreamy reverie about the medals, the muscles, the majesty of it all, I happened upon Isaiah 40 the day after closing ceremony.

"To whom then will you liken God?" the writer asks.

"An idol!" he answers his own question in astonishment and, I think, a bit of ridicule.

"A craftsman casts it and a goldsmith overlays it with gold and casts for it silver chains." The writer chooses the most Olympic thing he can think of, and then laughs at us, for thinking that gold is the same as God. For thinking that God will be okay with us giving our committed admiration to anything smaller than him.

"The nations are like a drop from a bucket!" The writer exclaims. I have no doubt that even in his time, this writer knew of great Olympic dignitaries, of the nations getting together to compete, or great fireworks-like displays of wealth and power. He knew about the private jets and power breakfasts of his time, and he's just saying, "I don't care"--beside God's power and wealth, these are not even significant. 

Pitting the worst student swimmer at the local high school against Michael Phelps would make more sense than thinking that the global Olympic display of power and wealth approaches God. Asking one of our old ladies at the nursing home to compete with Gabby Douglas would make more sense than assuming that gaining an Olympic medal would be more important than gaining God's approval. 


May our love for the stories of power and grace always be overshadowed by a greater admiration!