Don’t Worship the Weekend

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People have disliked Monday morning for decades. Today, we take it a step further with coffee mugs and t-shirts and ball caps to broadcast our complaints.

Wake me when it’s Friday.

I don’t do Mondays.

Coffee and dogs and weekends.

The message is clear: Weekends are fun. Mondays (and Tuesdays and Wednesdays) aren’t.

But like every other culturally-appropriate sentiment, weekend-loving should look different for Christians. Fridays and Saturdays should be relished as a gift, not a god. The weekend should not—must not—be worshiped.

Because when we bow to our weekend, we aren’t bowing to our God.

Monday Morning Letdown (A Sign of Weekend-Worship)

Monday mornings can be agonizing for me, and this particular day was no exception. Six a.m. was a letdown. My coffee was watery. Deuteronomy 8 was long. And an entertaining weekend was over.

My head reminded me not to hinge my joy on a fun-filled Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. But my heart felt deflated anyway. God convicted me that letting the weekend shape my attitude is dangerous. Hinging my happiness on entertainment is lethal. Because what I’m really saying is, “God, I don’t need you to make me happy.”

It sounds extreme because it is. Building our emotions on faulty, fake foundations only guarantees collapse. Swapping Christ-infused joy for fleeting fun is tragically lopsided.

God created the weekend. The weekend isn’t a god.

God created the weekend. The weekend isn’t a god. Yet I find myself returning to this altar and bowing low in homage. I start sacrificing pieces of myself—my joy, my contentment, my relationships, my faith.

And when Monday hits, I’m left empty-handed and empty-hearted.

The Deadly Idol of Weekend-Worship

When we start pasting the “idol” label on our weekends, things get serious. Scripture’s warnings get real. We start sensing the gravity and futility of worshiping anything but God.

[Their idols] have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see. They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk… Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them (Ps. 115:6-8).

Idols are dead. All who worship them become like them. It’s no wonder John cautions his children to keep themselves from idols (1 Jn. 5:21) or Moses warns Israel not to carve forbidden images (Deut. 4:23). They are “a delusion,” Isaiah wrote, “metal images are empty wind” (Is. 41:29).

We’re proficient at twisting good things into gods. In all its bliss and binging and boredom-busting, the weekend can quickly become another altar.

The Irony of Idols

The irony of idols is that they can only be fashioned from materials God made. The gold of the golden calf was formed by God. The bronze of pagan altars was forged by God. The stars of every astrologic constellation were kindled by God.

The days that make up our weekend were established by God (Gen. 1:5).

The days that make up our weekend were established by God (Gen. 1:5).

Paul points out the fallenness of elevating creation above the Creator:

Therefore God gave them up to the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonor of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever (Rom. 1:24-25)!

In a dark twist of irony, our weekend can rapidly replace its Creator.

Relish the Weekend, Don’t Worship It

What will it take for us to lift our eyes from our miniature monuments? We deserve a slap across the face—a hand grabbing us by the chin and yanking our head back. A voice screaming, Just look up. Can’t you see there’s more?

And when we ignored the hand and the voice and the warnings to obliterate our idols, God did the unthinkable. He sacrificed his only Son on a wooden altar. He took the slapping, beating, mocking, and killing for us.

In one unforgettable weekend, God the Son lavished us with eternal freedom to worship him. When we worship anything less, we abuse that gift.

Nevertheless, our weekends are a gift. Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays remind us to celebrate with family and tend our gardens and visit our friends and rest from our work and worship our Creator.

The weekend is a beautiful thing. God is more beautiful. In an entertainment-orbiting culture, let’s relish the days God grants us without worshiping them. Better yet, let’s use our Fridays and Saturdays and Sundays (and even Mondays) to radically glorify him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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