Altar of Remembrance

We don’t build altars anymore, rightly so. Under the new covenant, established through Christ’s sacrificial blood, the altar of God is now our heart. Yet there are significant events in our spiritual journey — breakthroughs into the blessings of God so life-altering we label them “defining moments” — that require a memorial of remembrance, or what we might call an “altar.” At times, establishing such a memorial at which we can stop to give praise to God and to remember his covenant is an appropriate thing, perhaps even a needful act of faith. Such an “altar” will serve to remind us of God’s greatness and faithfulness as we journey forward to the next challenge.

The Journey// Focus: Genesis 46:1-4

So Israel set out with all that was his, and when he reached Beersheba, he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac. And God spoke to Israel in a vision at night and said, “Jacob! Jacob!” Jacob answered, “Here I am,”  God said, “I am God, the God of your father. Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down to Egypt with you, and I will surely bring you back again. And Joseph’s own hand will close your eyes.”

Good news had flooded Jacob’s old, weary soul, worn thin by years of dashed hopes and dead dreams, like a flowing stream in the parched desert. Joseph, the son he favored, was alive after all these year of thinking he had been killed by a wild animal. And the news of Joseph’s incredible journey from the pit to the palace had revived the old patriarch’s heart:

When his sons told Jacob that Joseph was alive in Egypt, and everything he had said to them, and when he saw the carts Joseph had sent to carry him back to Egypt, the Jacob’s spirit revived. And Israel said, “I’m convinced! My son Joseph is still alive. I will go and see him before I die.” (Genesis 45:27-28)

As Jacob began the journey from Canaan to Egypt to see his son and to relocate his clan in the riches of Goshen during the time of famine, one of the first things he did was to build an altar and offer sacrifices to the Sovereign God who had revived his dreams by remembering the covenant the Almighty had sworn to his grandfather Abraham, his father Isaac, and to him. And as he sacrificed, the Lord spoke, calling him by name and recounting the promises of the covenant that he would fulfill as the clan of Israel lived in the land of Egypt.

We don’t build altars much anymore, and rightly so. Under the new covenant, established through the blood of Jesus, the altar of God is now our heart. Yet there are significant events in our spiritual journey, breakthroughs into the blessings of God so important that we would label them “defining moments”, that require an altar. At times, building a memorial at which we can stop to give praise to God and to remember his covenant, is an appropriate thing—perhaps even a needful act of faith. There are times along the way that establishing a memorial of remembrance will serve to remind us of the greatness and faithfulness of God as we journey forward to the next challenge.

These physical symbols that we choose to jog our memory are powerful. Every time we look at that sacred symbol, or touch it and consider what it represents, we call to mind the reality of God’s glorious presence and his unmerited intervention on our behalf.

God often used symbols in the Old Testament. So to, frequently in the Revelation, symbols are provided to help us grasp the glories of the eternal world where God dwells, physical representations of his invisible and uncontainable presence. These symbols provide a way for God’s people to worshipfully enter into God’s presence without being completely consumed or totally overwhelmed by God’s holiness. In other words, spiritual symbols allow finite people to momentarily grasp the infinite.

Have you ever noticed how small children at an ocean beach will run away from the crashing waves in absolute terror. Why? They are overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude and brutal force of something incomprehensible. But later they will dig a hole in the sand and fill it with a bucket of that very same seawater that made up the monstrous wave. Then they will scoop a handful of that water and let it drip through their fingers back into the hole.

What are they doing? They are partaking in the magnificence of the ocean without being overwhelmed by it.

That’s the benefit of a symbol. It allows finite beings to comprehend the infinite—if but for a moment. An altar or remembrance allows you to call to mind the incomprehensible greatness of Almighty God and his covenant faithfulness in the past without being complete undone by it. I am not suggesting that you go crazy with this, that you turn your prayer closet into a holy shrine full of religious artifacts and icons—that can obviously get way out of hand. But sometimes we just need a little help with remembering that since God is covenantally faithful, that what he has done in the past for us, like he did for the saints of old, he will do for us today, and we can count on him to do again and again in the future.

God is faithful. He will fulfill his promises. Always. Do what you need to do to remind yourself of that. Perhaps an altar of remembrance would be the appropriate thing for you to erect.