On The Altar
In the ancient days, men were commanded to bring sacrifices to the temple of the Lord. These sacrifices were living creatures — their blood being spilt upon the altar. When Christ performed the ultimate sacrifice in giving up His own life, such rituals were done away with and the Law of Moses was fulfilled in Jesus. Now instead of animals from our flocks, He asks us to bring to Him a broken heart and a contrite spirit. We still are required to make sacrifices to him as part of our ongoing purification, though these offerings are more personal and less obvious.
To place upon the altar a broken heart has multiple meanings. Certainly, it means to relinquish the stubborn will, ego-driven dreams, and prideful ambitions. Everything that separates us from God’s will must necessarily dissolve and disband if we are to offer a true sacrifice. He never asks for more than we have, but he does ask for all of us — every last bit. This encompasses the good, the bad, and the ugly; this includes the vanity and enmity as well as the noble desires; this constitutes memories of the past and dreams of the future. In the "breaking" of these things, Christ gains access into the very chambers of the heart, and lasting transformation occurs. It is only through cracks in the vessel that the light enters in. As the hymn says, “He was bruised, broken, torn for us..”, shall we not also break for Him — becoming fully malleable clay in the potters’ hands to reshape, redesign, and reimagine a more glorious outcome?
The broken heart also suggests the acquiescence of grievances, strifes, lamentations, and sorrows. The heart that has been broken by the world — let it be given wholly to Christ through whom all things are made new. The spirit that has been downtrodden by man — let it ascend to the Redeemer whose mercy endures forever. Let every thing which is grievous to be borne be swallowed up in the joy of redemption. We need not carry anything but the yoke of Christ. We need not suffer a moment longer than it takes to yield all that robs us of peace. The phrase "let go and let God" is so much more than a recipe for enduring the moment well — it is a precurser for miracles and the first step in a life lived more abundantly. The divine transmutation of pain into peace is not possible if we are clinging to our wounds and identifying with our trauma. We see things honestly, we acknowledge them, thank them for the lesson, and then promptly offer them up to God for reconfiguration into a blessing for the ages.
Among the purposes of sacrifice are sanctification, humility, and alignment. When we give up something we love, or something we are accustomed to, this frees up space for us to receive that which we need, that which we will cherish to an even greater degree. We cannot receive if our hands are full — we must drop the stones we have carried for a lifetime and give God the opportunity to use our hands for His work. When we are humbled to the dust to the extent that we cry out, "Not my will, but Thine be done," it is in that moment that God can perform mighty works for and through us. But for the miracles to be accomplished, he requires our faith. Which is to say concerted faith in Him, which is to say not relying on the arm of the flesh, which is to say recognizing our own weakness. And in the moment of acceptance of our mortal weakness, Christ renews our strength and we run and are not weary, we walk and are not faint. In the moment that we declare our blindness, He enables us to see. In the moment we admit defeat, He enters with victory in His wings.
This humility to accept and acknowledge our dependence on Him is the first step in bringing our will into alignment with Gods. And truly, is there anything sweeter than to live in the assurance of performing that which God has required? Is there any deeper joy than to know that you "are about your father's business"? The conviction of our God-given purpose is enough to see us through even the roughest of seas, even the darkest of nights. Regardless of obstacles that hedge up the way, regardless of dangers that lurk and temptations that arise, we know in whom we have trusted— and thus, who shall make afraid?
The altar is there for our benefit. The ability to offer sacrifice is a gift. What we offer the Lord is deeply personal, and if we ask, He will let us know what is required of us. We may not always like the answer, but if we can trust enough to act, we can then wait with assurance for the arm of God to be revealed and watch as the miracles unfold within and all around us. So much awaits us in the proverbial and literal temple. Don't delay the moment of your own transfiguration. Don't procrastinate the day of your repentance. Don't wait a second longer to turn your whole soul over to Christ. The present moment is always the best time to begin the journey of learning Heaven.
