AFTER THE AWAKENING: Installment 5

Installment 5, Chapters 13 and 14

Apr 22, 2026

Good morning and hello friends,

This article is one installment of a multipart series. Be sure to check out my site for previous segments of this series. It will make more sense if you read them in order.

This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

The first installment contained Chapters 1-3. This one contains Chapters 13 and 14.

Chapter 13: The Idols We Don’t See

When I first became a Christian, I thought I understood what “false idols” meant. I pictured golden statues, pagan temples, and ancient people bowing to carved images. I felt safe in my modern world, after all, who worships physical idols today?

Boy, was I wrong.

The night the Lord revealed Himself to me on October 3rd, 2024, He had much to clarify. He reminded me I was His child, made in His image, deeply loved. But He also showed me painful truths about how I was living. Among the many habits I didn’t consider sin was my idolatry.

My idol wasn’t a statue or crystal. It wasn’t some “new age” symbol. It was my business.

I treated my companies like children. I woke up thinking about them and went to bed planning for them. As my family fractured, I poured myself into growing my business while my mother’s health failed and my loved ones became strangers.

This revelation hit me harder than anything else that night. I felt deep shame and guilt in those early days of my faith. I thought I was just “minding my own business,” building something meaningful. But God showed me I had replaced Him with my work.

The Bible speaks clearly about this danger:

Exodus 20:3-5 ESV: “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not bow down to them or serve them.”

Deuteronomy 5:6-10 repeats this commandment, emphasizing that God is “a jealous God.”

Isaiah 42:8: “I am the LORD; that is my name; my glory I give to no other.”

Matthew 7:23: “And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’”

The most dangerous sins aren’t the ones we know and pray about. The most dangerous sins are those habits and behaviors which modern society and culture has programmed us to feel are normal, business as usual if we are to be good and productive citizens of man’s empire.

“Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness! Why should the nations say, ‘Where is their God?’ Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases. Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see.” (Psalm 115:1-5 ESV)

These passages aren’t just about ancient statues. They’re about anything that takes God’s place in our lives.

God showed me modern idols wear different masks. They’re not always obvious. They look like success, security, status, and self-sufficiency. They’re the things we think are “normal”, even “good” that slowly replace God as our center.

My business wasn’t evil. But it became my god. I trusted it for security. I found identity in it. I measured my worth by its success. That’s idolatry.

What about you?

Are you simply “minding your own business” while ignoring God’s call?

Are you treating that nice car as a symbol of your worth?

Is your home and zip code part of your identity?

Is your job title your primary source of value?

These aren’t inherently wrong. But when they become our foundation, our security, our identity, that’s when they become idols. The enemy’s most effective trap isn’t obvious sin. It’s the slow replacement of God with good things that become ultimate things.

In my journey, I’ve learned idolatry isn’t just about what we worship. It’s about what we trust, what we fear losing, what we think defines us.

The solution isn’t perfection. It’s awareness. It’s daily surrender. It’s asking God to show us what we’ve placed above Him. In my quiet moments with God, I’ve learned to ask: “What am I trusting more than You right now?”

The answer often surprises me.

God’s warning about idols isn’t meant to shame us. It’s meant to free us. To show us what’s stealing our peace, our joy, our connection with Him. That’s why He gave us His Word. To show us the truth about what really matters. That’s why He sent the Holy Spirit. To guide us into all truth. That’s why Jesus came. To destroy the works of the enemy, including the idols that bind us.

So I’ll keep asking that question: “God, what am I trusting more than You right now?” And I’ll keep listening for His answer.

Because the truth is, we all have idols. The question isn’t whether we have them. The question is whether we’re willing to see them, name them, and let God free us from them.

If God were to call you out on your lifestyle today, what’s one thing you don’t think He would have a problem with?

Be honest.

That thing might be your idol.

A Moment in the Workshop

Sit with this question for sixty seconds of silence: “God, what am I trusting more than You right now?” Do not rush the answer. Let it surface. It might be your bank balance. Your health insurance. Your reputation. Your competence. Your children’s success. The thing itself is not evil. But if losing it would shatter your peace, it has become your functional god. Name it. Hold it in open hands.

Chapter 14: Judge Judy, the Whipping Boy, and a Better Story of the Cross

When I read pieces on dense theological arguments, my brain doesn’t process them all at once. I have to take the ideas apart. I break them down into the smallest, simplest pieces I can, like taking apart a motorcycle to see how the pieces fit. I turn them over, look at them from different angles, and let my spirit chew on them for a while. For me, understanding comes slowly, like water seeping into hard ground.

So, at a really basic level, here’s how I’m walking through these concepts. I lean on simple pictures, like stories about friends and misunderstandings, to help me see the shape of the argument. I’m sharing my working-out-loud process here, not a final answer.

Timothy Hurts Mark

Let’s talk about this like we’re figuring it out together. You know that feeling when you’ve really messed up a friendship? Let’s say your friend Timothy said something awful to his best friend Mark. The damage is done. Mark is hurt, trust is shattered. Now, how does this get fixed?

One Way to Tell the Story (The “Penal Substitution” Version):

Mark’s mom, Judge Judy, finds out. She’s furious. To satisfy her sense of justice, she decides someone has to be punished. But instead of punishing Timothy who did it, she punishes Mark. She grounds Mark, takes away his phone, the whole deal. The punishment happens, Judge Judy’s anger is “satisfied,” and now Timothy and Mark are cool again. In this story, the punishment itself is what fixes the relationship.

This is how a lot of people explain the cross: God (Judge Judy) is rightfully angry about our sin. To satisfy justice, punishment must happen. So Jesus (like an innocent friend) steps in and takes the punishment (death) we deserved. The main problem, in this view, is God’s anger that needs to be appeased.

Another Way to Tell the Story (The “Resurrection” Version):

The real problem isn’t just that a rule was broken and an authority is mad. The real problem is the damage itself, a broken friendship, a deeply hurt person. What needs to happen isn’t just a punishment; the relationship itself needs to be “resurrected.” It needs healing and new life.

So, when Jesus dies and comes back to life, it’s not about satisfying an angry God’s need to punish. It’s God’s ultimate act of repair. It’s God saying, “You killed my Son, the most innocent one. That’s the ultimate injustice and the depth of your brokenness. But I am more powerful than your worst damage. I will fix this.” The resurrection is God reversing the worst thing we could do. The focus is on healing the poison of sin, not just transferring a penalty.

Why the First Story Is a Problem:

It makes God look bad. If God has to punish someone to be just, and He chooses to punish Jesus instead of us, it can feel like “cosmic child abuse.” It paints God as a ruler who needs to take wrath out on someone, even an innocent substitute, like a “whipping boy” taking the lashing for a prince.

It misdirects our focus. If salvation is only about dodging punishment, what about the actual, daily mess sin causes? It can turn faith into a “get out of hell free” card instead of a healing power that changes us from the inside out, right now.

It can twist how we live, teaching us to see God primarily as a punisher rather than a healer, and to think in terms of “I deserve to avoid punishment” rather than “How can I help repair what’s broken?”

The Main Idea:

The real, biblical story is more beautiful and more powerful. Sin isn’t just a crime that needs a sentence; it’s a poison that ruins everything. Jesus comes to drink the whole cup of that poison, to die from it, and then to come back to life, breaking the poison’s power forever. It’s about repair, rescue, and new life, not just a legal transaction.

So, the cross isn’t where an angry Judge Judy punishes someone instead of the guilty party. It’s where a loving God, in Jesus, enters into the very worst of our mess, our damage, our death, and wins. He starts the repair job by conquering the very thing that breaks everything: death itself.

We’ve often told a story that makes God look like a strict judge who needs compensation. But the Bible tells the story of God as a healer who enters our brokenness to fix it from the inside out. This understanding changes everything: how we see God, how we find hope, and how we live.

Now, a few things come to mind.

First, is this a salvific issue? Meaning, are you going to hell for understanding this one way versus the other way?

Second, how does this different understanding truly change my own personal behavior or outlook, how I walk the Christ-like walk, the narrow path?

Third, which in my opinion is the most important: based on my personal relationship with God, which of these two understandings sounds most like the God I speak with every day? God the just punisher, God the healer, or a hybrid embodiment of both?

A Moment in the Workshop

Which version of God do you instinctively default to when you sin? The angry judge who must be appeased? Or the healing Father who enters your brokenness to repair it from the inside out? Based on your personal relationship with God, not what you were taught, but what you have experienced in the quiet hours, which understanding sounds most like the God you speak with every day?

Be sure to use the below links to be notified when the next installment hits the newstands.

That is all, and thank you for reading.

If you enjoy Faith In The Fast Lane, I would be incredibly grateful for your support. Consider using one or more of the links below.

Discussion about this post

Ready for more?