Made in Our Image

 

 

 

You call on your God

And I will call on mine

And at the end of the exercise

Tell me what you find.

 

From the get go

You see the problem!

Your God and my God,

At least there are two of them.

 

As many religious sects

Each one with its God,

Which one is the authentic God

And which one the fraud?

 

My God is like me

Made in my own image,

And your God is what you make

Sounds like sacrilege.

 

And the world looks on

In definitive confusion

Asking whose is the true God

Given our delusion.

 

Our prayers are a boast

Of how he responds to us;

Mostly a fake-it kind of thing,

Little to do with trust.

 

 

We shout at our God

And we continually nag

And the slightest success we get

We unashamedly brag…

 

Of how our God hears

But your God does not

And the resources our God has

Yours haven’t got.

 

A God for the Adventists

And one for Evangelicals

A God for Hindus and Muslims

And one for Israel.

 

A cursory glance shows

Each created their God

And any God created by a sect

Must be a colossal fraud.

 

Actually, it’s idolatry!

In the Bible it is so called,

Such a God cannot be appealing

But one we should appall.

 

 

Reminds me of a Mount

Known as Mount Carmel,

Elijah versus Baal’s prophets

When the latter fell.

 

Baal was obviously deaf

To his adherents’ screams,

Not very different sometimes

From a modern-day scene.

 

Some scream and shout

As though their God is deaf

And the way they keep this up

Tells me they are stressed.

 

Like the prophets of Baal

That became a bloody mess

Cutting themselves in desperation

As they failed the acid test.

 

For hours and hours

Baal’s prophets prayed

But as Elijah mockingly suggested

Maybe Baal had gone away.

 

After all, what was so hard

For their God to answer

And ignite their prepared sacrifice

With just a spark of fire?

 

You see Baal was their God

Whom they had made

But however much they prayed

It was to no avail.

 

From morning till evening

Not a sound from Baal,

After hours of prayer and mutilation

Things got depressingly bad.

 

Then it was Elijah’s turn

To pray to the Almighty God,

He had no fear he would answer

So on Him he called.

 

 

I counted 59 words

The length of Elijah’s prayer

And immediately on completion

Fire from heaven appeared.

 

We often pray as though

We’re trying to convince God,

There’s something He doesn’t know

Hence, on Him we call.

 

And it gets even better,

We remind God of His word,

We have no problem with this

Yet Baal’s prophets were absurd.

 

“Don’t forget, Lord,

In your Word you said such,

To ask you to keep your promise

Can’t be asking too much.”

 

Let’s hold God to His word

Seems to be the endeavour,

What’s wrong with putting our God

Under a little pressure?

 

And if He doesn’t answer

We’ll just pray and pray again

And ensure we constantly repeat

The phrase, in Jesus’ name.

 

And if still no answer

Just pretend that there was,

Believe you have received it-

Let faith become the hub.

 

 

  

Yes, made in our image

To do with as we please,

Waiting at our every beck and call

To give us our desired ease.

 

So, you call on your God

And I will call on mine

And at the end of this exercise

Tell me what you find.

 

Stewart Russell © April 15, 2024