Imprinted on idols

Geese love the lagoon in the park across the street from our church. Each spring, a new set of goslings, whose parents must be decidedly Christian, take up residence in the bushes around our building. In their first week or so of life, these little chicks sometimes attach themselves to whatever large living creature is nearby, essentially mistaking that creature for their mother. Years ago we had a gosling that fell in love with a church staff member and wanted to be wherever she went. Scientists refer to this attachment process as imprinting. A gosling’s brain gets irreversibly stamped with sensory instincts that drive attachment—even if it’s to another species.

We might say that humans possess an imprinting capacity as well. We fall in love with what strikes us as big and attractive. Although we’re made distinctively in the image of God, created to worship this true and living one whom many of us know best in Jesus Christ, we’re highly susceptible to attaching ourselves to idols of all types. Like a gosling that finds comfort in whatever in the vicinity happens to be large and moving, we take refuge in all sorts of things that dazzle our hearts, yet have nothing to do with abundant life.

Everybody worships; it’s just a question of what we love enough to worship. And what we love and put our heart into ends up informing our faith more than what we believe. These loves shape and fashion us to the point where we actually become infatuated with what we worship. Much like the cross-species imprinted goslings, we start to resemble the idols to which we attach ourselves. Our deep desires, strong affections, and great fears become disordered; we start loving God less than other things. Idolatry quickly governs.