Tents and altars

Altars marked the path of Abraham. God said go and he obeyed. He moved his tent to the next place, built an altar and worshiped.  Altars marked his encounters with a holy God, a covenant-making God. Some marked sacrifice and absolute surrender—holding nothing back from the One who called his name.

As we moved our “tent” across the world and established home in the temporary place, I thought of Abraham and Sarah. I drew strength from their journey to a place they did not know. 

We were crossing cultures, entering the unknown, without a specific timeline or roadmap. Learning to make a home in the unfamiliar.  That meant navigating practical issues. Like finding out how to put food on the table—where to shop for what and how to clean what we found. Or how to make sure we had clean water to drink every day. It meant investing hours and hours each week learning to speak a new language in order to communicate and deepen relationships with those around us.

Marked by altars

And our journey was marked by “altars.” We worshiped the Lord God Almighty in new places and languages. In the midst of differences, it anchored us to sing His praises with brothers and sisters. We worshiped the Holy One who knows the path that we take. The One who goes before us.

There were memorable altars of surrender. Like the one in a hospital bed in Bangkok, Thailand, during a scary health crisis with our 6-month-old firstborn. It’s one I’ll never forget.

But there were also the quiet moments of relinquishing my rights. No fanfare, but crucial for abiding in Him. Necessary altaring acts of obedience.

God’s design

I was reading through Exodus and came to the passage that first caught my eye when I was in college studying art and interior design. Exodus 25-31 richly details God’s plans for the tabernacle (a tent) and its furnishings (including altars). Exquisite designs. Vivid colors. Quality materials. And artisans appointed by God, filled with His Spirit to do the work and train others in crafting each part (Exodus 35:30-36:2).

I’d read those passages multiple times. I’d just never noticed one specific element in the design of the altars.

In the past, those altars of sacrifice and worship were built on site. But these were different. There were “handles” on these altars, rings inset for the carrying poles.

When the people saw them, they knew these altars were made to travel—it was intrinsic in their design.  These altars were coming on the journey with them.

Today’s altar

As believers, as followers of Jesus Christ, we live in the freedom of His once-for-all sacrifice.  We’ve been washed clean by the blood of the perfect Lamb. No need for recurring animal sacrifices on that altar of sacrifice.

But there is another altar.

One that comes with us daily.

Exquisitely designed? No.

Simple, rough, basic.

A place to die.

And it’s designed to travel.

“Then [Jesus] said to them all, ‘If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of me will save it. For what does it benefit someone if he gains the whole world, and yet loses or forfeits himself?’” [Luke 9:23-25 CSB]

Tent and altar

Last year we moved our tent. Again. To the known place that felt unknown, different, changed. In this place, I find my footing as I worship the One who leads us all the way. And as I take up my cross in surrender. I need that reminder. Daily.

The tent and the cross-shaped altar are part of the faith journey we’re on. For His glory here and across the world. He is worth it all.

What about you?

What Scripture strengthens you as you surrender in your daily walk with the Lord?

When he lived in Scotland, Todd remembers being challenged to live like his assignment was temporarily permanent instead of permanently temporary. What helps you put down roots in the temporary place?