What we worship shapes who we become. That is the arresting truth at the heart of Psalm 135, and it is as relevant today as it was when Israel sang it on the steps ascending to the temple in Jerusalem. This psalm is not merely a hymn of praise -- it is a battle cry, a declaration that the living God creates his people, works for his people, and stands in a category entirely his own. As we walk through this ancient song together, we are confronted with a stark contrast: on one side, a God who does whatever he pleases in heaven and on earth, who freed slaves from the most powerful empire of the ancient world, who gave his people rest and a home; on the other side, idols of silver and gold, made by human hands, with mouths that cannot speak and eyes that cannot see. The psalmist's warning is not abstract. Those who make idols become like them. Every day, through the quiet choices of where we place our time, our money, and our deepest desires, we are being formed into the image of whatever sits on the throne of our hearts. The great invitation of this psalm is to lift our eyes to a God whose name, unlike the names of the gods of cruelty and destruction, calls to mind only goodness, mercy, and the joy of being known and chosen.