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Altars of Uncut Stones (Or the Beauty of Simple Obedience)
I picked up my daughter’s yellow spring jacket and felt weight, heaviness where it shouldn’t be. Clearly she had stuffed her pocket at the park with her latest treasure.
Curious about her new discovery, I slipped my hand into her pocket and pulled out . . . a rock. Two rocks actually, one for each pocket.
They weren’t gems, either. No sparkles or beauty. No monetary value.
They were plain ordinary gravel, no different than the layer of rock on my driveway. In fact, the one crumbled into my fingers with the slightest pressure.
I sighed. She had been toting home rocks for about two years now. Everywhere we went, some pebbles, gravel, or smooth stones caught her attention and ended up in her pockets.
She has even tried to remove stones from the paths at Colonial Williamsburg and the zoo and once tried to carry a cement block away from the local museum where its grand function was to hold open the door.
I put my foot down about those.
But if it fits neatly into the pocket of her jacket, she’s likely to tuck it away where I can’t see and add it to her “rock collection.” Perhaps she’ll even give it a name, which usually ends up being something like “Rocky” or another equally creative moniker.
I made the mistake of tossing “Rocky the First” back into our garden when I discovered it on her dresser. She cried. She searched the back garden for a glimpse of him and, finding him, carried Rocky right back inside.
To me, it was an ugly rock. To her it was a treasured part of her collection, more like a pet than a simple object.
She’s not the only one who finds beauty in simple stones. God loves them, too.
As they crossed over the Jordan River, the Israelites obeyed God’s instruction, picking up 12 stones from the river bed and lugging them up the embankment onto dry land. God told them to use those stones to build an altar.
More specifically,
“an altar of stones. You shall wield no iron tool on them; you shall build an altar to the Lord your God of uncut stones. And you shall offer burnt offerings on it to the Lord your God, and you shall sacrifice peace offerings and shall eat there, and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God” (Deut. 27:5-7 ESV)
Their peace offerings and sacrifices, their worship and rejoicing before the God who had carried them into the Promised Land, may have seemed more fit for an altar of finest gems.
Perhaps their greatest artisans could have finely cut diamonds, emeralds and rubies into an altar fit for worship of the Most High God.
Or, if God insisted on them using river rocks, at the very least they could have chiseled and carved until the altar looked like a marble statue, perhaps of angels or a depiction of the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant, or of Joshua leading the people.
Yet, God was clear. Stones, simple stones, uncut by any human tool, formed the altar fit for the offerings of His people.
Why did God even care about a detail so small? According to Him, “If you make an altar of stone, you shall not build it of hewn stones, for if you wield your tool on it you profane it” (Exodus 20:25 ESV).
To God, human construction on the altar stones made them unholy and profane.
That’s because God knew the danger implicit in cut stones and man-made bricks. The moment we begin to adorn altars with human effort is the moment we shift the focus off of the God we praise. Instead, we admire the human talent that made the vessel or the human ability that cut the stone.
We become idolaters. Our worship becomes profane.
This is what God accused the people of doing in Isaiah:
"I spread out my hands all the day to a rebellious people, who walk in a way that is not good, following their own devices;a people who provoke me to my face continually, sacrificing in gardens and making offerings on bricks” (Isaiah 65:2-3 ESV).
Israel ignored God’s mandate and chose instead to offer their sacrifice among garden flowers. They had rejected simple stones in favor of brick altars.
Israel wanted to worship God their own way and on their own terms. His instructions seemed superfluous and unnecessary. Their ideas seemed so much nicer, so much better, so superior, so much more religious than God’s request for pure and uncut praise.
In the same way, God sometimes overturns our expectations of adequate offerings and suitable worship.
He desires the simplicity of an obedient heart.
We think He needs more.
So, we hold back our offerings until they are “fit” for Him. We hide in the sanctuary pews until we have more to give. We think other worshipers, who are more talented and more rehearsed, give gifts more worthy.
It isn’t, however, about being the best, most talented, or most qualified; it’s about being called. Yours is the offering He desires. It is because of your heart of obedience that He can be glorified in the sacrifices you bring.
There is beauty in the uncut stones of our worship. It’s never about the show, never about our own talent or training; it’s not about looking good or fitting in, or processing our worship into acceptable forms—all human additions that shift focus off God and onto human ability.
Instead, it’s about responding to God in pure uncut adoration.
To read more devotional thoughts from Heather King, check out her blog here: http://heathercking.wordpress.com/
Copyright © 2008-2015 Heather King
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