The Misery of Being Your Own God

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Every morning the tug to over throw the King renews. 

Albert Camus said that the modern man–who’s –could be the “master of his days” if he scorned the gods, hated death and loved this life.

Indeed, he would conclude that the universe without a master seemed neither sterile or futile–but rich in life and happiness.

Noble in theory. Dismal in practice.

We’re All Fools

The fool says in his heart “There is no God.”

But he doesn’t necessarily believe that. He believes there is no God, capital G. But there is one–him.

Little g.

David was correct in saying he was a fool. And the Bible is full of examples of those who chose to be masters of their days.

Nebuchadnezzar ate grass and wandered the hills on all fours. Belshazzar blanched and went limp at the sight of a human hand writing his fate on a wall. Jezebel was cast to the dogs. Herod was struck down by a dreadful disease in his bowels that ate him alive from the inside out.

Fools, indeed. But we’re all fools if not for His Grace.

In fact, God will spare most of us from those extreme ends. We won’t see that kind of humiliation.

We may end our lives quietly. Or full of bitter and gall. But the only true happiness we can talk about is that we are glad that it is finally over.

Of course, we may experience spikes of happiness. But nothing will fully satisfy us if we remain our own god. We are like the grave–never satisfied.

Slave to self. Slave to Satan.

Happiness Is a Warm Gun

In my own life being my own god is always ends with much disappointment, frustration and misery.

What can you expect when the one on whom you depend is broken? No doubt the idea that you can accomplish anything as long as you set your mind to it was plucked from hell.

It’s a fool’s bargain.

Camus’ fault was that he believed men crave happiness. So, like many philosophers, he offered his own version of how to get it.

But men do not crave happiness. Ultimately, they crave God in whom’s image they have been made.

They crave the eternal, and happiness becomes a cheap substitute. An idol that does not breathe nor talk nor hear.

Only eludes.

Your Turn

Listen: don’t chase happiness. Chase the creator. Pursue your maker. And protect yourself against the temptation to be your own god…

Because at night you may lay your head on the pillow satisfied that you handed your life over to your Master for that day. But come morning the tug to overthrow the King renews.

You must master that perennial urge to rebel. Pray to God to give you the strength and He will.

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