A Religion of Fear

“Man's nature, so to speak, is a perpetual factory of idols.” So wrote the eminent French theologian John Calvin. But idolatry rarely begin with a conscious decision to reject God. More often, they begin with fear. 

The living God calls us to trust Him. He calls us to rest in His promises, obey His Word, and entrust our future to His care. But faith like this can feel risky. We cannot control God, manipulate His plans, or guarantee that He will give us the outcomes we want. And so, when fear takes hold, we are tempted to fashion god-like substitutes. We reimagine God in a way that feels more manageable and systems we can control. We may still claim to be worshipping the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but if we are taking God and trying to bend Him to our preferences, we are really bowing before idols whether we realize it or not. 

After Solomon’s death, the kingdom was divided. Rehoboam ruled Judah in the south. Jeroboam ruled the northern tribes of Israel. God had given Jeroboam the kingdom. Through Ahijah the prophet, the Lord had promised him, “I will be with you and will build you a sure house” on the condition that he walked in obedience (1 Kings 11:38 ESV).

Even so Jeroboam did not have peace in his heart. Rather than looking to God’s promises, he looked south and saw Jerusalem. The holy city in Judah remained the God-appointed center of worship. The temple was there. The sacrifices were there. The feasts were there. So every time the northern tribes traveled south to worship, Jeroboam feared that the people’s hearts would turn against him and that they would one day return to Judah. 

He says, “If this people go up to offer sacrifices in the temple of the LORD at Jerusalem, then the heart of this people will turn again to their lord, to Rehoboam king of Judah, and they will kill me and return to Rehoboam king of Judah” (1 Kings 12:27 ESV).

There it is. Fear has begun to preach to him, but fear is a poor theologian.  It cannot read the promises of God except through trembling hands. Fear says, “God may have spoken, but you still need to protect yourself. God may have promised, but you still need a backup plan.”

The truth we see in Jeroboam, is that when fear rules the heart, it eventually reshapes our worship. And when worship is reshaped by fear instead of governed by God’s Word, it becomes a snare not only to us, but to those who follow us.

Fear Distrusts the Promise of God

Now remember that God had already spoken. Jeroboam was not left to guess whether the Lord would be faithful. The Lord had given this kingdom to Jeroboam, and the Lord had promised to establish him if he walked in obedience. 

But Jeroboam asks the wrong question. He does not ask, “What has God said?” Instead, he asks, “How can I be sure the people do not turn from me?” And that fear, that insidious idea that God’s Word alone is not enough, is where so much compromise begins. 

Jeroboam wisely takes counsel, but the counsel does not steady his soul in the promise God had already given. Like Jeroboam, we too can surround ourselves with voices that sound prudent, practical, and realistic, while they quietly lead us away from the clear command of God.

Parents can do this. Maybe we fear losing a child’s approval, so hard conversations about sin, holiness, and obedience are delayed until, little by little, children learn that comfort matters more than truth.

Churches can do this as well. A congregation may fear losing attendance, influence, or cultural respect, so difficult doctrines are softened, repentance is rarely named, and worship is reshaped around whatever keeps people pleased.

Even pastors and church leaders can do this. We can become more concerned with keeping people happy than keeping God honored. 

My point is that this is not only a danger for kings. It is a danger for any heart that asks, “How do I keep control?” before it asks, “What has God said?”

Fear Builds Counterfeit Worship

So Jeroboam, rather than trusting the Lord, decided to establish his own religion. He still claims to be worshipping the one true God, but he does so in ways that the one true God never asked of him.  

He begins by placing one golden calf at Bethel in the south and one at Dan in the north. In effect, he says to the people, “You do not need to go all the way to Jerusalem. Worship here instead.” Then he appoints his own priesthood, he builds his own shrines in high places, and he establishes his own calendar of feast day. He essentially creates a counterfeit copy of the true worship in Jerusalem, all to ease his fears about the people returning to Judah. 

Now in Jeroboam’s mind, this plan probably did not feel like open rebellion. In his mind, this was convenient. He was sparing the people the hassle of taking a long journey to the southern kingdom. He used familiar religious languages and symbols. It may have even seemed patriotic. We don’t need Judah to worship God, we can do just as good of a job here in the Northern Kingdom. 

When Jeroboam reveals the golden calves to the people, he uses the old Exodus language: “Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt” (1 Kings 12:28 ESV).

Which seems like insanity to us, because those words and symbols clearly echo the golden calves built by Aaron in Exodus 32. There, Israel had made this mistake before in the wilderness when Aaron, fearing that Moses would not return from the mountaintop, built an idol and called it God. Now Jeroboam is using the exact same language that belongs to the saving work of God and fastens it to images God has forbidden. History repeats itself. 

Because the king had commanded this and had instructed the nation to worship in this easy, from this point forward, Jeroboam’s name becomes a warning label. Again and again, Scripture remembers him as the man who “made Israel to sin” (1 Kings 14:16; 15:30; 16:26; 2 Kings 17:21–22).

Now we need to hear this warning. A fear-shaped religion always harms more than the person who practices it. One generation trims obedience for the sake of comfort; the next inherits a diminished faith and weakens it further. Before long, what is handed down bears little resemblance to the faith once delivered to the saints.

We may not set up calves at Bethel and Dan, but we know how to soften the God of Scripture until His holiness no longer troubles us. We know how to speak vaguely about faith while repentance, holiness, judgment, obedience, and the blood of Christ slowly move to the margins. We know how to keep the shell of religion while hollowing out its obedience.

A manageable god is an idol with religious language draped around it to make us feel better about ourselves. 

So let us be careful. The question is not only, “Do I worship?” Jeroboam worshiped. The question is, “Is my worship governed by the Word of God?” Is my faith being shaped by promise or by fear? Am I receiving the faith once for all delivered to the saints, or am I editing it into something easier to manage?

God Confronts Our False Religion

Let me be clear on this point. God loves His people far too much to leave them alone with a lifeless, counterfeit religion. So while Jeroboam stands beside the altar he has made, God sends a prophet from Judah.

Chapter 13 opens, “And behold, a man of God came out of Judah by the word of the LORD to Bethel. Jeroboam was standing by the altar to make offerings” (1 Kings 13:1 ESV).

The prophet cries out against the altar itself: “O altar, altar, thus says the LORD” (1 Kings 13:2 ESV). He declares that one day a son of David named Josiah will defile that altar and burn the bones of its priests upon it. God even names the coming king centuries before his birth: “Behold, a son shall be born to the house of David, Josiah by name” (1 Kings 13:2 ESV).

But Jeroboam does not repent. He stretches out his hand from the altar and commands, “Seize him!” (1 Kings 13:4 ESV). Immediately, the hand he points in anger withers, “so that he could not draw it back to himself,” and the altar splits open at the same time (1 Kings 13:4–5 ESV).

The message could hardly be clearer. The king stands helpless beside a broken altar, with a withered hand and a living prophet. 

Then, and only then, does Jeroboam plead for prayer: “Entreat now the favor of the LORD your God, and pray for me, that my hand may be restored to me” (1 Kings 13:6 ESV). The prophet prays, and God restores his hand.

Let’s not pass over that mercy too quickly. The same God who wounds also heals. The same word that exposes sin also opens the door to repentance.

So the king invites the prophet home and offers him a reward: “Come home with me, and refresh yourself, and I will give you a reward” (1 Kings 13:7). But God had already commanded the man not to eat or drink there and not to return by the same road. The prophet answers, “If you give me half your house, I will not go in with you. And I will not eat bread or drink water in this place” (1 Kings 13:8).

This prophet understands that there can be no fellowship with rebellion. We cannot make peace with false religion and still claim to proclaim the truth. So he leaves another way, “for so was it commanded me by the word of the LORD” (1 Kings 13:9).

Now this should have been the end of the story, but sadly this account shows us a strange and sorrowful turn.

An old prophet from Bethel hears what happened and goes after the man of God. He finds him sitting under an oak and invites him home to eat. The younger prophet repeats God’s command: “I may not return with you, or go in with you, neither will I eat bread nor drink water with you in this place” (1 Kings 13:16).

Then the old prophet says, “I also am a prophet as you are,” and claims, “An angel spoke to me by the word of the LORD, saying, ‘Bring him back with you into your house that he may eat bread and drink water’” (1 Kings 13:18 ESV).

Then Scripture gives the chilling truth: “But he lied to him” (1 Kings 13:18).

Both Jeroboam and this old prophet teaches us that falsehood can wear a religious face. They have different methods, but both the old prophet and the king tempt the younger prophet to set aside the clear word God has already spoken.

Sadly, this time, the younger prophet believes the lie and disobeys the first clear word God gave him. While they sit at the table, the true word of the Lord comes through the very man who lied. Judgment is pronounced: “Because you have disobeyed the word of the LORD and have not kept the command that the LORD your God commanded you,” his body will not be buried in the tomb of his fathers (1 Kings 13:21–22).

On the road home, a lion attacks the man of God and kills him. The lesson is harsh, but the lesson is also clear: no voice can cancel the clear word of God. Not a prophet. Not a preacher. Not an angel. Not a friend. Not a feeling. Not the shifting sands of culture. 

The Word of the Lord does not ask permission from kings, prophets, angels, or the spirit of the age. In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul declare that: “Even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed” (Gal. 1:8).

So if the message contradicts the plain truth of God’s Word, do not believe it, no matter how wise, learned, spiritual, or compassionate it sounds. Any counsel that trims obedience is unsafe counsel. Any voice that loosens what God has bound is dangerous. Any religion that improves upon God’s Word ruins what it touches.

And yet, even here, God is far more gracious and merciful than we deserve: 

We read that the old prophet later buries the man of God in his own tomb and confesses, “The saying that he called out by the word of the LORD against the altar in Bethel... shall surely come to pass” (1 Kings 13:32). Late as it is, the old prophet finally stands with the word he once undermined by his lie. In the end, the Word of God must have the first word and the last word. “Every word of God proves true” (Prov. 30:5).

Tear Down the Idols and Come to Christ

By now the warning is unmistakable. The altar has split. The king’s hand has withered and been healed. A prophet has died on the road. Again and again, God has shown that His Word will stand. Yet Scripture says, “After this thing Jeroboam did not turn from his evil way” (1 Kings 13:33).

He did not turn.

That is the tragedy of this passage. A man may see God’s warnings, experience God’s mercy, and still cling to the very thing that is destroying him. Let it not be so with us.

Do not make peace with the calves. Do not baptize your fear and call it wisdom. Do not keep building what God’s Word has already judged. Instead, look to Christ.

Jeroboam feared losing his kingdom. Christ gave Himself to establish an everlasting kingdom. Jeroboam turned people away from God’s appointed place of worship. Christ came to bring sinners back to God. Jeroboam built false altars. Christ offered Himself on the true altar of the cross.

At the cross, Jesus bore our idolatry, our fear, our unbelief, and our compromise. He not only forgives idolaters; He frees us from the fear that drives us to our idols. So tear down whatever golden calf fear has taught you to build. Return to the Word of God. Trust the promises of God. Come again to Christ.

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”