Lumen Fidei: Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride through the Labyrinth of Idolatry

Continuing with my journey through Lumen Fidei, I come to paragraph 13. Here Pope Francis points out that the opposite of faith is idolatry. Faith is trust in God before all created things; and idolatry is precisely faith in some created thing (whether it is a physical idol of stone or wood, or an idea minted in my own head) rather than faith in God. In that sense, whenever I turn to some created thing and give it more importance in my life than God, I have worshipped an idol. (Someone really ought to write a book about that.)

But the fascinating thing is, we never create just one idol. We’re fickle, we human beings, when we put our faith in created things; first we turn to this thing, and then to that thing, and then to another. The Pope says,

Idolatry, then, is always polytheism, an aimless passing from one lord to another.

I’m reminded of Toad of Toad Hall: first he was fascinated by boats, several different kinds of boats, in turn; then it was the traveling life, traveling with a canary yellow caravan; and then, of course, it was motor cars. Anyone who has ridden Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland knows where that process ends up.

Human life is supposed to be a straight path: a journey straight from my current location toward heaven, following Christ every step of the way. But I often turn my eyes aside, and step in other directions. The result, says the Pope, is confusion:

Idolatry does not offer a journey but rather a plethora of paths leading nowhere and forming a vast labyrinth.

And now I’m reminded of your typical casino: filled with brightly lit attractions shouting, “Look at me, look at me,” everywhere you turn, no clear sight lines, just more rooms stretching off into the distance, and no sign of an exit anywhere. You wander from idol to idol, from bright idea to bright idea, and you get nowhere. And the reason is that none of the brightly lit attractions have it in them to be a true destination, or an ultimate home. That one looks brighter from here, but when I get to it, there are still brighter lights in all directions and this one here seems comparatively dull.

There’s only one recourse: to tear the roof off of the casino and let the sun shine in. The bright lights are revealed as dim bulbs, and by orienting on the sun we get a true sense of direction. And that sun is the light of faith.