Counterfeit Gods

You might say: "I don’t believe in God," but the Bible says: “Not possible.” See, everyone has a god, whether or not it’s the God of the Gospel. You might not believe in God, but everyone has that one thing that’s King. Even the dictionary defines God as “whatever we make supreme.” Because it’s a theme, a thread, it’s inside of all human beings, the fact that we all worship. And no, it’s not just about singing. Now I know you’re like: “Jeff, I don’t worship; I put that on the shelf.” But I say, technically we all worship; we just worship ourselves. See we all worship something, to an object we’re all liable. Ladies, to some your boyfriend is your God, and Cosmo is your Bible. Yet, we mock and we laugh at the Israelites Golden Calf, but we do the same right back; it just looks different than that. So, question: "What’s on your throne? What do you chase so you don’t feel alone?" So what defines you? What do you give ultimate worth? And what if taken will bring ultimate hurt? Now see, that is your God. And all of us, we’ve sacrifice deep joy for shallow happiness. To be honest, we look like fools. We’re like full grown adults in the kiddie pool, going “Oh my goodness, guys! This is like so cool!” Because we’re slaves to our possessions; we are always craving something new, Reality check, if you can’t give it up, you don’t own it, it owns you. And that’s why the Bible, it says we’re all spiritual prostitutes, in fact it says we’re worse. Because at least prostitutes get paid for their works. All we get paid is a hearse. That’s why worship is not just behavior; it goes way into our core. So ask yourself what is your God. What do you bow down before? For example, some of us, we don’t worship God, but we worship what He said, We got theology in your head, but in your hearts, poor, pitiful, naked and dead. Or some of us worship in stadiums, while some of us worship in bars. Some of us worship our possessions, while some of us worship our cars. See, some of us worship science, while some of us worship the arts. But I don’t care what clothes your idol’s wearing—the disease is the heart. Or my favorite is those guys who say: “Jeff, I’m a man, because I’m in control!” Okay, then tell me, why can’t you stop having sex with your hand while staring at your MacBook Pro? Or what about those guys who trade their wives for their jobs at work – give more time to their boss then their actual wives’s needs or hurts. And ladies—ladies, no guy can love you more than Jesus already has, So stop putting your worth in Magic Mike; He’s so much better than that. Now, I know what you’re thinking—you’re probably thinking: “Jeff, are you saying we should hate money, hate alcohol, and never have sex.” No, but I’m not saying that God created those all to be enjoyed in their proper context. But I wanna transition; I want to make a spiritual incision, Can you really say these things are the ultimate purpose of living? I mean, instead of worshiping the Creator of you and I, We’ve all said screw you God; I’ll take your stuff, but you can die. But that trade is terrible, trading God for man It’s like God offers us water, and we say, “But God, this is such good sand!” Or my friends, they’ll say, “Jeff, a God that requires me to give up something” I just can’t fathom, Yet most of us seem fine giving up everything for a quick orgasm. I mean am I the only one who's felt the gnawing within? Am I the only one who's felt the weight of my own sin? But see, here’s what’s unique; go ahead and critique, but if you hear anything, hear this one thing that I speak. Where we exchanged ourselves for God, thinking we could be Him He exchanged himself for us, absorbing all our sin. I mean God literally , put on flesh, and do you see how we treated him? The ultimate war veteran, because he was killed for our freedom. Nonetheless, He was thinking of you and me, with every whip that beat Him, knowing full well we’d still go nah, I don’t really need Him. But like a father, he couldn’t bear his children to not be free So it's up that tree He paid our fee, for specks of dirt like you and me So my plea is, let Him restore His proper place, I promise you He loves you right now. Just trust in His grace. Because before I leave, I’ll leave you with this: What are those other things took nails in their wrists? Or how about when was the last time money or sex forgave you? Whens the last time your boyfriend set you free from all you’ve enslaved to? See what else died so that you could be made new? Or when was the last time the world promised satisfaction, and actually came through?