The UnAdorned Altar

The Discipline of Surrender by Douglas Webster: Chapter 2

We are altar people. Each week we arise from the pews and approach the 
blessed bread and wine at the altar. In that sense, each week we have 
an altar call - a time to surrender - to willfully humble ourselves 
again at the memory of Christ's death and resurrection and take him 
into our hearts afresh. 

In this reading I was struck with the simplicity of "the altar". A 
pile of rocks. Uncut. No bling-bling. Just raw, virgin soil - the 
stuff that incarnation is made of. What is it with us that we want to 
take the simple things of the Lord and adorn them with such 
magnificent externals that its simplistic beauty vanishes and gets 
stealthy under the bigger and better garnishes of our own pride and 
selfishness? Webster, by illustration, reminds us of the Tower of 
Babel and the Golden Calf, reminding us that when we take the tools of 
the Mason into our own hands - when we add to the things of heaven in 
our hearts - the outcome can only be idolatry. 
You may have heard the old saying, "God made us in his image, and we 
have returned the favor?" Exactly. 

So what do we do? "Repentance is a sacrifice laid on an altar of 
unadorned stones". (p.25) We get before God JUST AS WE ARE - no 
pretense, no justifications, no putting lipstick on the pig (after 
all, a pig wearing lipstick is still, after all, a pig) - and become 
willfully passive to the Mason's touch in our hearts. 

Ok, enough with the theo-babel. Here are the things that strike me in 
the reading - things I humbly drop into the Community for your 
comments: 

Most of us have gone far beyond the natural altars in our hearts and 
have adorned them with all sorts of religious relishes. I know I have. 
So my prayer is for the Lord to take the tools of Mason and be  hewned 
BACK to the simple altar he built in me some time ago. My rocks have 
become idolized. I think there's even some mold on a few of them. He 
needs to scrape some of that excess off. In my case, he doesn't need 
to build up the altar. The altar is already there - half-submerged 
under old vines and other stuff I've tossed on it. In my case I think 
he needs to build it DOWN. You know, sort of like a "Get back to where 
you once belonged" sort of deal. Thanks John and Paul. 

Secondly, I throw out a question that Webster asks there on page 25. 
"Are we willing for our hearts of stone to be cut by the only one who 
has the power to make us and shape us into his image?"  What are the 
things that keep us shying away from the Mason? And, if we are indeed 
willing to allow his workmanship in our hearts, what would you think 
the TOOLS OF HIS HANDIWORK would be?