Hear the terrible sound at the altar. Hear the rumble, the sound of the congregation trembling as people flock towards the feet of Jesus. Hear waves after waves of grace and mercy undulating in the air. Hear the interjections, the jets of anointing hitting the people. Finally, hear the industrious sound of altars being built. Yes, altars can’t be walked into; altars must be built. And altars must be built alone, each for their own. Hear the clinks and clangs of altar construction — staccatos at the stammering of lips and another tongue lifting stone after stone for where the fire of God can come down and consume us, a living sacrifice. Come, hear.
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