Settling For Bronze?
There’s an interesting story found in 1 Kings. In 1 Kings 10:14-29, we discover that King Solomon had solid gold shields made (a total of five hundred large and small shields in all) to be utilized ceremonially in the Temple; they were meant to represent the prosperity of Israel under Solomon and to show the divine favor of God. In essence, everything is golden under Solomon. But then in 1 Kings 14:25-27, we learn that Shisak came from Egypt and seized the Temple treasures, carting away many of these holy objects, including the shields that Solomon had made. However, the historian then gives us a strange statement: "So King Rehoboam made bronze shields to replace them and assigned these to the commanders of the guard on duty at the entrance to the royal palace. Whenever the king went to the LORD’S temple, the guards bore the shields, and afterward they returned them to the guardroom” (1 Kings 14:27-28).
Rehoboam settles for fakes! Polished until they gleamed, bronze shields could appear to be similar to gold, especially to the commoners. But the truth was, they simply put up appearances and pretended everything was fine. They settled for bronze, when only gold should do!
When we expect people to be awed by the pomp and circumstance, the ceremony, the gleam… something less will suffice. But it is worth far less.
It leads me to wonder: What is the difference between going through the motions and pseudo-spirituality?
There is a blessing in following a routine, even if you’re not “feeling it.” Neither your faith nor God’s faithfulness is dependent upon how you feel in any given moment. In some ways, according to Juan de la Cruz, this can actually serve as a holy darkness, a time of purgative contemplation when you cannot rely on your perceived closeness to God because that isn’t your current experience of reality. Yet Juan writes, “When you are burdened, you are close to God, your strength, who abides with the afflicted… for virtue and strength of soul grow and are confirmed in the trials of patience.” Those very moments of darkness can actually be the times you learn what it means to let your soul cry out to God and to trust wholeheartedly in God’s goodness.
Thus, the very act of continuing on in spiritual disciplines and devotional practices can deepen our faith even when God seems far off. The act of showing up in prayer, reading, meditation, service, worship, communion, and celebration are acts that continue to shape our faithfulness even when we feel at odds with our faith.
A pseudo-spirituality, then, would be going through the motions to keep up appearances before others. It is the pastor who lost his faith years ago but continues to offer the sacraments. It is the minister who continues to preach on the love of God while showing contempt and hatred towards his neighbor. It is the spiritual leader who is continuously practicing a secret sin (unrepentantly) while condemning others from the pulpit. It is proclaiming Christian faith, faithfulness, and discipleship while secretly looking nothing like Jesus.
It is the equivalent of having your retinue carry bronze shields to distract from the loss of true value and worth.
So often, we as ministers refuse to be known—truly known—and we present a front, a mask, a persona so that people will believe the word of God that we speak. But Jesus would call that hypocrisy, playing a role for the watchful eyes of others.
Instead, congregations need ministers who humbly consider themselves as they present the good news. They need ministers who recognize that they are sinners saved by the grace of God, empowered by God to speak a message of hope and reconciliation to a hurting and distressed world. And the best way to do that is to truly seek to allow God to transform our hearts as we seek him in prayer, in Scripture, in meditation, and in the guidance of the Spirit. Gregory of Nyssa once wrote, “Which would the thirsty prefer to supply his need: to see bare stones beautifully laid out, or to find a spring, even if it flowed from a wooden pipe, provided only that the stream it pours forth is clear and drinkable?”[1] What our people need are people who humbly present the good news to them, not a magnificent aqueduct that looks marvelous but ultimately is dry as a bone.
As the psalmist wrote in Psalm 51:15-17, “Open my lips, Lord, and my mouth will declare your praise. You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.”
Sometimes that does mean going through the motions, knowing that God is still with us even if we don’t feel it. But it should never mean holding up gleaming bronze shields to distract from the lack of true spiritual value in our lives. May we never settle for bronze.
