What would have happened to any Israeli
. . . bowing down to, praying toward, prostrating himself in front of, focusing incessantly on . . . kissing, carrying around a replica thereof in his donkey cart . . . framing replicas of in his home in places of honore for rituals fo ‘adoration,’ ‘veneration,’ in a home focus . . . made hymns and poetry to and about . . . .
of the temple ornamentations?
Thank you for your blessings,
my faithful temple pomagranite.
Your rosey cheeks cheer me
daily as I dream of your
Precious juice and life giving
benefits. Thank you for your
hanging nearer my God to thee.
. . . . riiiiiggggghhhht
ZAP.
At a minimum there’d have been a new pile of stones.
= = = =
Now, dear Prottys, we’ll see how they rubberize themselves out of the truth about that. But, I’m confident that rationalizations spring eternal.
And moreover, they were not worshipping the idol itself, but what it represented, it was to be an aid in their worship.