John Fortner once said, "The danger of worship is that you become like that which you worship."

I think of this sometimes when confronted with the idea of people like Fred Phelps. Reverend Phelps claims to be a Christian, a follower of Christ but most people see him instead as a minister of hate. This man claims to be a follower of Christ, but his life evidences harsh judgement and hate to the point of rejoicing in the belief that the souls of certain men, women and even children are burning in hell.

Who does this man worship?

It's true there are pictures of God bringing judgement on the unjust, on the wicked. This image isn't limited to the old testament, either, but veins the book of Revelation with equally startling, disturbing images of the Son of Man. This God of vengeance holds tight to the law of justice and all wickedness finds its end in judgement.

Is this the God of Phelps?

This same God gave Jericho 6,000 years to repent. This same God weeps over his people. This same God yearns for relationship, reaches out, loves even to the point of death. This is not a God, so far as I can see, who holds picket signs proclaiming that [He] hates "fags."

This same Lord encountered the woman caught in adultery, who by his own law should die, and spares her life, dispelling her accusers and commissioning her to a new life, free from sin. Does Phelps know this God?

It seems instead that Phelps worships a broken god; a half-image of the creator. That which he worships is no god; it's an attribute, an attitude, and it's very human.

But what about those who accept unconditionally, condoning everything under a banner of love? These people forget that when Jesus spared the woman, he also told her to go and sin no more. So, too, when we negate the consequences of sin or bandaid bullet holes (crying 'peace, peace! when there is no peace...) we find ourselves doing the same thing: worshipping a half-god, an idol.

This is a sobering thought for me. Who am I like? Am I like the one whom I claim to worship?