Foundation of Faith

For years, I have tried to make sense of the Ten Commandments. Yet the First Commandment, in particular, is where I find myself continually challenged. The first one is where it all starts to unravel for me. Every time I go to sacramental Confession, I make an examination of conscience, and yet I often find myself unable to get past the First Commandment.

For someone who simply reads it, it may seem straightforward: There is one true God. I believe in Him. What more is there to understand? Faith alone will save me, right?

Not so fast.

In its simplicity, the First Commandment contains the very foundation of our faith as Catholics: to acknowledge that there is one true God and that He alone is worthy of our worship, our trust, our love, and ultimately, our entire lives.

“I am the LORD your God… You shall have no other gods before me.”

— Deuteronomy 5:6–7

But perhaps this commandment goes much deeper than simply believing that God exists.

Most of us, myself included, can sincerely say that we believe in God. Yet if I am honest with myself, I must also admit that there is still much work to be done within my heart. The problem is that we often fail to recognize how easily we create idols for ourselves sometimes without even realizing it.

Let me examine my own life.

I often wake up early in the morning and begin my day by praying, thanking God for another day, and expressing gratitude for His blessings. I pray my Rosary, sometimes even before going to work. Then I begin the responsibilities of the day: preparing breakfast, getting my children ready, taking them to school, going to work, meeting with people, handling responsibilities, solving problems, and doing everything that daily life demands.

After work, if time permits, I may stop at Adoration or attend Mass. Then I return home to serve my children, spend time with my family, and fulfill the responsibilities of being a husband and father.

It sounds like a life centered around God.

But then I remember something.

Throughout all of this, I am often on my phone—checking emails, reading an article here and there, looking at the weather, responding to messages, or simply allowing myself to become occupied with whatever happens to appear before me.

And there is something that troubles me.

My day can begin with God, and then I can go hours without speaking to Him again.

Traffic. School. Work. Meetings. Clients. Responsibilities. Conversations. Problems. Notifications. Distractions. One thing after another.

God is there through all of it.

But do I turn toward Him?

Not nearly as often as I should.

This is where the First Commandment begins to become much more personal for me.

I know God is present, yet I allow so many other things to occupy the center of my attention. I become absorbed in the ordinary and sometimes lose myself in the mundane. And although these things may not appear to be “gods,” I begin to understand how easily they can become idols when they take the place in my heart that belongs to God alone.

An idol does not necessarily have to be something we worship consciously.

Sometimes an idol is simply whatever receives the attention, affection, trust, or dependence that should first belong to God.

And that realization humbled me.

I began to see that the First Commandment is not merely asking me, “Do you believe there is one God?”

It is asking something far more profound:

“Is God truly first in your life?”

That question is much harder.

Recently, while sitting in Adoration, I asked the Lord to speak to me. From the deepest part of my heart I prayed:

Lord, please say something to me. I miss Your voice.

And then a Scripture came to my mind: Deuteronomy 5:6–7.

I could not remember exactly what it said, so I immediately opened my Bible and looked it up.

“I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before me.”

Wow.

At that moment, I felt as though the Lord had placed that Scripture directly into my heart.

It was not merely a command.

It was a reminder.

“I am the Lord your God.”

And then He reminded me of something even deeper:

“I brought you out of bondage.”

God was reminding me that He is not simply asking for obedience from a distance. He is the God who rescues. The God who delivers. The God who brings His children out of slavery and into freedom.

For us as Christians, this points even more deeply toward Christ.

Through Jesus, God has brought us out of the bondage of sin and into the freedom of grace. Through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection, He has opened for us the promise of new life—not merely a better life here, but eternal life with Him.

And perhaps that was what my soul needed to remember.

I was so concerned about all the things competing for my attention that I had forgotten the One who had already given me everything.

Sitting there in Adoration, I realized that the Lord was tending to a part of my soul that I had not even realized was neglected.

The First Commandment was no longer simply a commandment written on a page.

It became an invitation:

Remember Me.

Do not forget who I am.

Do not forget what I have done for you.

Do not allow the things of this world to take the place of the One who gave you life.

And now I find myself asking a difficult question:

What do I need to do so that I do not forget my Lord and my God?

Because He never forgets me.

Even when I become distracted, He remains present.

Even when I turn away, He continues to wait.

Even when I become consumed by the noise of the world, He continues to speak quietly within the silence.

Even when my attention is divided, His love is not.

And this moves my heart deeply, because I know that God is merciful. I know that He loves me. I know that He understands my weakness.

But I also know that I want to love Him in return.

And perhaps this is where the First Commandment becomes not merely a command, but a response of love.

How can I love Him with the same heart with which He loves me?

I know I cannot repay His love. I cannot earn His mercy. I cannot make myself worthy of what He has given me.

But I can surrender.

I can remember.

I can turn toward Him again and again.

I can invite Him into the ordinary moments of my day—not only when I am in Adoration, not only when I am at Mass, not only when I am praying my Rosary, but also while I am driving, working, cooking, talking with my children, dealing with difficulties, answering a phone call, or simply standing in the middle of an ordinary day.

Perhaps holiness begins there.

Not in escaping the world, but in refusing to forget God while living within it.

I do not want to simply believe that God exists.

I want Him to be the center of my existence.

I want to remember Him when my mind becomes distracted.

I want to seek Him when I am anxious.

I want to thank Him when I receive blessings.

I want to run to Him when I am suffering.

I want to hear His voice when the world becomes too loud.

And when I fail—and I know I will—I want to turn back toward Him rather than remain distant.

Because the most beautiful part of all of this is that when I forget God, He does not forget me.

When I wander, He waits.

When I become distracted, He calls.

When I fall, He reaches out His hand.

When I become distant, He remains near.

The First Commandment has taught me something I never understood before:

God does not simply want a place in my life. He wants my whole heart.

And so my prayer is simple:

Lord, help me never to forget You.

Teach me to recognize the idols I create, even the ones I cannot see.

Teach me to turn away from everything that takes Your place.

Keep my heart attentive to Your presence.

Let every thought, every action, every responsibility, and every moment of my life gradually become an offering back to You.

You are my Lord and my God.

You brought me out of bondage.

You gave me new life.

And I pray that I never stop turning my heart toward You.

God bless you always.