Institutions, Idolatry, and Human Sacrifice

Scandals of abuse are now all too familiar in churches, Christian institutions, and beyond. We are not only shocked by the deplorable actions of leaders so widely respected, but also confronted with the reality of how many people had to be silent and be complicit for these things to continue as long as they did.

How do these things happen?

Like almost all forms of violence, they are driven by the deep human need for what I call “glory” or relational beauty. One manifestation of our longing for glory is the desire to belong in a community where we are seen, known, and loved for who we truly are. When this relational beauty is broken, we experience shame—and with it, feelings of inadequacy, rejection, worthlessness, invisibility, guilt, and so on.

Exchanges of Glory

In order to cover our shame, we will settle for what Paul calls “exchanges” of glory, mere copies of the real connection, beauty, and transcendence we long for—things like status, achievement, accolades, positions, or titles. We often seek that glory from being part of something greater than ourselves. And if we are not “rooted and grounded in love” and in our divine purpose and beauty, we will turn to paltry substitutes which offer no lasting satisfaction.

Very often, people search for glory through an institution and the status, sense of belonging, and sense of purpose that it seems to offer them. Or at least, they hope these things will cover up their sense of shame and fear of inadequacy. But, these things will always ask for something from us in return. We will have to work for it, earn it, maintain it, protect it. We will find that it’s never enough, but that we are also constantly fearful of losing it. This is the very essence of idolatry. And in some form or another, idols will always demand human sacrifice from ourselves and others.

The Demand for Sacrifice

They will demand that we sacrifice our families, our health, our own sense of purpose. They will demand that we step on others to stay ahead. They will demand that we suppress the wrong kind of questions, that we push back against dissent. And because our idols with the status and power they offer are precious to us, we will naturally want to do whatever we can to protect them and to build them up—our own towers of Babel.

Inevitably, they will ask that we sacrifice the glory of both ourselves and others—that we do violence to either the souls or bodies of other human beings. And because our own sense of identity, worthiness, status, and security is found in them, we will make these sacrifices without even realizing we are doing it. And as we degrade others, we also degrade ourselves. Our own humanity suffers and our own consciences are seared.

And the higher the supposed cause for which we are working, the more willing we will be to make these sacrifices. The more easily we will rationalize that it’s “for the greater good” or that somehow the sacrifice of human dignity is necessary, the only way.

This is why religion and the name of God is particularly insidious. What higher cause could there be than saving people from hell? What higher cause could there be than “God’s work?”

But the higher cause could equally be a cause of justice, or any other end which seems good enough to justify the means of cruelty, degradation, insults, suppression, silencing, violence, and so on. This is why many activists movements end up so bitterly fractured, and leave people just as wounded by community as religion.

The only solution comes in finding a deeper source of glory that’s grounded in “the One Thing” which can hold all things together in our lives. With it, we will also find a deeper purpose, a far stronger ethical guide, and a far more sustaining energy for the good work of God and of love and of transformative action in the world.

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Glory: An Overview