When Tradition Becomes Treason

How Good Intentions Become Spiritual Slavery

Picture a slow leak in a dam—just a drip at first. No alarms. No flashing lights. Just a quiet compromise. But given time, the steady trickle becomes a roar, and what once stood firm gives way under the flood. That is how idolatry works.

First we tolerate, then we taste, soon we trust, and finally we bow.

The pattern is clearly outlined in the Old Testament: Israel tolerated idols on the margins, soon embraced them, then depended on them—until Baal demanded their total worship. What began as accommodation ended in slavery.

This downward spiral is not unique to Israel; it is the universal story of idolatry. What begins as cultural accommodation ends in spiritual slavery. And unless broken by the power of the living God, the same pattern repeats in every age—including our own.

The Deception Repackaged

Too often, the church today treats idolatry as a distant relic—something only relevant to primitive cultures or ancient Israel. But such worship is happening right in front of us, in our own backyard.

A few years after I came to Christ, I found myself bewildered by the sheer variety of churches and denominations. I remember thinking, “What could possibly be the big deal here? Aren’t we all following the same Jesus?” To answer that question, I decided to go exploring. Over the course of several weeks, I visited several churches—Orthodox, Catholic, Baptist, Lutheran, and more—and each felt like stepping into a different world. The Catholic and Orthodox services, with incense and icons, felt eerily familiar, almost like fragments of Hindu worship blended with Christianity.

I immediately began to wrestle with a troubling question: Why are both Catholic and Orthodox churches—and even some Protestant groups—engaging in what looks like idol worship? Church history gives us a sobering trail. Marian devotion, for example, does not appear in the earliest records of the church. You will not find it in the writings of the apostles or the apostolic fathers. It begins only in the 4th century, centuries after Christ and His disciples had walked the earth.

Now, let’s run this through our framework. The earliest believers honored Mary as “blessed among women” (Luke 1:28, 42). To remember her with gratitude was not wrong. But over time, small accommodations were made. Over time, remembrance of Mary slipped into prayers for her intercession. By the medieval era, she was exalted with titles and practices that Scripture reserves for Christ alone. What is given to the creature belongs only to the Creator.

The Catholic Church defends such practices by appealing not only to Scripture but also to Sacred Tradition (cf. Dei Verbum, Vatican II). Tradition, they say, carries binding authority even when Scripture is silent. But here’s the problem: that is the very same answer I heard growing up in my Jain household. When I asked my mother why we bowed before rituals, her only answer was: ‘This is what we were taught.’ That is the same defense Rome gives today.

But if I was willing to question my Jain heritage—if I was willing to weigh it against the light of Scripture and find it wanting—then how can I not apply that same standard within the church? Truth is not measured by what is handed down from men, but by what God has spoken in His Word. And any system—whether Jain, Hindu, or Christian in name—that elevates tradition over Scripture inevitably drifts into idolatry.

In Jainism, the devotion is not centered on statues of gods but on tirthankaras—human beings revered as having attained spiritual liberation. They are upheld as moral exemplars, as supposed “proof” that humanity can climb its way to transcendence. But make no mistake—it is no less idolatry.

At its core, this belief denies the doctrine of sin. It scoffs at the reality that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23), and it ignores the diagnosis that “the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately sick” (Jer. 17:9). We imagine that through discipline or technique we can climb our way into divinity. Every man-centered religion, every spiritual system that exalts human potential over divine mercy, is simply another variation of satan’s deception.

That is why the gospel is so offensive. It doesn’t say, “Try harder to be good.” It says, “You are dead in sin and need to be made alive” (Eph. 2:1–5). It confronts the fantasy of self-redemption and replaces it with a startling truth: we need a righteousness not our own, a gift found only in Christ (Phil. 3:9).

The Spiritual Reality Behind Idols

Paul pulls no punches in 1 Corinthians 10:20–21: “The sacrifices of pagans are offered to demons, not to God, and I do not want you to be participants with demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons too; you cannot have a part in both the Lord’s table and the table of demons.” Behind every idol lurks a demonic power.

The veneration of so-called “enlightened” humans—whether tirthankaras, gurus, prophets, philosophers, saints, or even Mary herself—feeds the lie that we are capable, that we are not helpless. Scripture exposes that delusion. Just as carved idols can become channels of demonic influence, so too can human idols. When prayers, candles, or songs are directed toward created beings—however holy or honored—they become substitutes for the One Mediator (1 Tim. 2:5). The enemy doesn’t care whether you bend the knee to a statue, to a saint, or to an idealized human—so long as your knees are not bent to Christ alone.

And if you want to talk about tradition, don’t stop at the 4th century. Go back further. Go back to the writings of the apostolic fathers. In fact, don’t stop there—go back even farther, all the way to the Old Testament. Because the Old Testament is God’s flashing warning sign. Again and again, Israel’s history makes it clear: idolatry is not just bowing before an image; it is entering into spiritual captivity. It is covenant betrayal. And even when someone participates “just for culture” or “just for show,” the spiritual powers behind those practices remain real. To dabble in idolatry is to open the door to bondage.

Christ, the True Deliverer

Idolatry always makes the same demand: total allegiance. It never asks politely; it always conquers. What begins as casual tolerance soon hardens into chains, until the idol demands your heart, your mind, your strength. And idols are never satisfied with scraps—they demand blood.

This is why Paul warns that idolatry is never harmless—it is to drink from “the cup of demons” (1 Corinthians 10:21). To take that cup is to enter fellowship with powers bent on your ruin. But in contrast, the Lord spreads a different table—the Lord’s Table—where He extends fellowship to those He has redeemed by His blood, inviting them to remember the work already finished.

The hope for hearts held captive by idols is not found in self-effort or cultural reform—it is found only in the radiant glory of Christ Himself. Paul declares in 2 Corinthians 4:6: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

And that, I believe, is the lesson for us. We must not treat idolatry lightly, as if it were only an ancient mistake or someone else’s problem. We need to study its follies, trace its lies, and expose its dangers.

So let us be watchful. Let us teach our children that no saint, no spirit, no statue, no system deserves their worship. Let us train our hearts to bow to Christ alone. For idols will always demand more until they destroy, but Jesus will always give more until He saves.