Have I lost my love on the wings I've found?

[Title Explanation Here]

I like to think of myself as strictly a not-heretic, but I have to admit that I have some heretical tendencies.  I remember when I was a kid learning the 10 commandments, I thought there was a sort of hierarchy of easiness.  My thought process looked something like this:

1st Easiest #6 - Do not murder.  
This one's kind of obvious.  I don't think it's possible to accidentally murder anyone, and I figure I'll never want to do it, so there we go.  Commandment in the bag.

2nd Easiest #7 - Do not commit adultery.  
I think very rarely about any future marriage I might have, and even more rarely about sex, so I'll just skip over this one.  Anyway, I figure no one my age could ever break this commandment, so again, in the bag.

Tied in 3rd #1 and #2 - No God but God and No revered images
Duh?  How many other gods are there?  And what sort of image are we talking here? Like that calf that Aaron, like, welded together?  Between my lack of artistic ability and my lack of desire to pray to a cow, I think I'm ok.

Fifth Easiest #5 - Honoring mom and dad
I love my parents.  Done and done. 

Okay, getting challenging #8 - No stealing
I already broke this once at a friend's birthday party when I really wanted a tiny toy dog they had.  But, hey, it was just a little dog, and I'll never do it again.

Fourth Hardest #10 - No coveting
Okay, my neighbor's wife is safe, but that tiny dog was coveted right out of its dollhouse soo...but again, just a dog, and I'll never do it again.

Third Hardest #3 - Don't take the Lord's name in vain
I'm pretty sure I can keep from saying "Oh my God," but peer pressure is a real thing.  We'll see how long this lasts.

Second Hardest #4 - Keep the Sabbath holy
What does this even mean?

This is my holy struggle #9 - No false witness
There was the time I stole the dog and had to come up with a lie to cover it up.  Then there was the time that that lie worked so well I realized I was good at it and then kept doing it, and then convinced (but really, did I?) my entire first-grade class that I was an alien.  Then there was the time that I really wanted the forbidden M&Ms so I told my mom that Dennis had eaten them.  And then there was the time I told my brother I'd eaten the horrid milkshake he'd made me even though I'd asked him not to, when really I'd poured it into his cup (he didn't fall for it, by the way).  And I want to be a writer, does that mean I can only write boring non-fiction stuff about animals and members of Congress?  God, I don't think I can do this.  I just don't think I'm cut out to be your servant.  I'm going to be confessing this sin every couple of minutes; I hope you're prepared.

After a few years of deep meditation on scripture (or, you know, just actually reading them once) I know I got a few things wrong about how the Big 10 actually apply to everyday life.  But it wasn't until I got deep into moving into my new apartment that I realized where my biggest struggles really lie.

Maybe this shouldn't have come as such a shock to me, seeing as I did major in English Language and Literature in college, but as I unpacked my kitchenware, I was surprised by how much heavy and intentional symbolism I found there.

I've got Game of Thrones pint and shot glasses, Marvel Comics tumblers, mugs from London, Calvin's Festival of Faith and Writing, my semester as a student teacher, and even the academic database, JSTOR.  I have plastic cups, bowls, and plates from my college dining hall.

A Song of Ice and Tea

It's not like I accidentally collected all of these items from places, things, and events that have meant a lot to me: I collected them because they came from these meaningful places.  When I look at them, I don't just see kitchenware.  I see all the time I spent enjoying the worlds they come from.  When people give me gifts, especially if they're gifts I see or use all the time, I see the giver when I see the gift.

So all that graven image business with the calf and the goldsmithing that went down without God's approval...looking at my kitchen, that all makes a lot more sense.  I know that, personally, I feel more connected to places and people when I have related stuff around me.  And I have some cross necklaces given to me as gifts that I used to feel the need to wear every day because I felt, in some weird way, like I was wearing my faith.

But if I can see it, if I can touch it, it's not faith; it's knowledge.  And if I can see it and touch it, then it was created and therefor is not the creator and doesn't deserve my faith or worship. According to 2 Corinthians 5:7, "we [Christians] walk by faith, not by sight."

In Knowing God, which my church group is reading together right now, Packer talks for at least a whole chapter about graven images.  He says basically everything I said here, about how they don't lead to faith or to correct worship, but lead us to worship the creation in place of the creator.  I'm not sure that I agree completely with that line of thinking.  I think it might be one of those slippery slope conundrums, but I think you can use images and symbols of God to supplement correct worship without crossing over into worshiping the images and symbols themselves.

My shrine to Michigan Microbrews, created when I moved to Pittsburgh.
...and gradually dismantled afterwards

Jesus says to Thomas in John 20:29, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”  Thomas believed Jesus was the messiah...but he only believed because he could see.  If we can only feel close to God through cross necklaces, rosary beads, and little tokens that we have come to associate with him, I think we are missing out on the great experience that is the true closeness of faith.

I don't know that I know what that true closeness feels like, but I bet it feels better than a tarnished silver cross worn begrudgingly day after day.