Why Does God Need So Much Praise?

[Rhondazvous]

In the late fourth century, Hypatia of Alexander was a vastly educated and intelligent woman. She excelled in every area of scholarship: philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, science. You name it she mastered it. But this notable woman had the misfortune to get caught up in a political feud between Orestes, the governor of Alexandria and Cyril. The bishop of Alexandria. Cyril incited the wrath of the Christians in Alexandria by claiming that her intelligence took glory away from god. They kidnapped her, dragged her to a church, and before the altar, they beat her to death with clubs, scrapped the skin off her, dragged her mangled body through the streets and burned her. They wanted to make sure she was dead. No playing possum with them

How odd that a human being should have to dumb down for the creator of the universe to keep his glory undiminished. But put yourself in god’s shoes for just a minute.

There you are, sitting enthroned above the circle of the Earth (Isaiah 40:22. The word translated circle is chug. This is the dome or vault that the ancients believed encircled the Earth, they still thought the Earth was flat, not spherical). You’re looking down at humans like grasshoppers and you’re kinda jealous of them. They have cultures, science, art, education and government, while you have none of these. You are alone, without peer or society. The other deities that are beneath you in the Bronze Age pantheon are rivals for the affections of your grasshoppers, and in the end you will punish them (Isaiah 27:1)

It drives you to violent jealousy to see your creation going about their business, carrying on their lives with no thought of you, while you have no other business than to watch them and worry about what they do. If they don’t remind you of how wonderful you are, you might forget or even doubt it. So you need praise, incessant and passionate from all your creatures. Everything they do must be done for your glory, and yours alone. You go into a hissy fit if anyone else gets any attention.

Wouldn’t you just loathe somebody like Hypatia? Wouldn’t you love it when your faithful grasshoppers are eager to kill to protect your glory—your fragile, precarious glory?