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Return to the Altar: A Call to Prayer and Remembrance

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
The Forgotten Altar and the Silent Fire

There was a time when the people of God knew where to find Him. They knew the sound of His voice, the weight of His presence, the trembling of holy ground, the fire that fell upon sacrifice, and the sacredness of the altar where heaven met earth. But that time has faded into memory, and the modern church stands in a sanctuary filled with polished wood, tuned instruments, and well‑timed programs, yet the altar of the Lord lies in ruins. The fire has gone out. The testimony has grown silent. The encounter has been forgotten. The people have grown cold. And the priests, who should stand between the porch and the altar, no longer remember where the altar even is.

False Altars and a Fireless Priesthood

The Scriptures speak of a day when Israel’s altars were broken down, neglected, and abandoned. The people still believed in God, but they no longer met Him. They still had priests, sacrifices, rituals, and religion, but they had no fire. The fire only falls on a rebuilt altar, and the tragedy of our age is that the altar has been replaced with a stage. The place of sacrifice has been replaced with a platform. The place of encounter has been replaced with entertainment. The place where God once answered by fire has been replaced with fog machines and lighting cues. And the church wonders why the heavens are silent.

The prophets of Baal danced, shouted, cut themselves, and performed with great passion, but “there was no voice, no answer, and no response” [1 Kings 18:26]. This is the condition of the modern church. There is plenty of noise but no voice, plenty of motion but no presence, plenty of ritual but no fire. We have built altars to entertainment, personality, tradition, comfort, culture, and convenience. We have erected platforms where altars once stood. We have traded sacrifice for sentiment, fire for performance, testimony for announcements, and encounter for routine. And like the prophets of Baal, we go through the motions without expecting fire, because deep down we no longer believe it will fall.

The Abandoned Feasts and the Lost Remembrance

The Feasts of the Lord were given as altars of remembrance, sacred touchstones where God commanded His people to remember His deliverance, His voice, His provision, His mercy, and His presence. Passover declared, “Remember how I brought you out.” Pentecost declared, “Remember how I spoke to you.” Tabernacles declared, “Remember how I dwelt among you.” But the modern church has tossed aside the Feasts and replaced them with man‑made traditions that carry no fire, no remembrance, and no encounter. We have abandoned the very rhythms God established to keep His people anchored in His works, His ways, and His wonders. A church that abandons the altars of remembrance will always lose the God of remembrance.

Joel’s Cry to a Sleeping Church

The prophet Joel spoke to a nation that had forgotten God, a priesthood that had grown cold, a people who had lost their testimony, and an altar that lay in ruins. And the Lord commanded a cry that echoes into our generation: “Let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar, and let them say, ‘Spare Your people, O Lord’” [Joel 2:17]. This was not a call to polished sermons or well‑crafted worship sets. It was a call to brokenness, intercession, remembrance, and return. It was a call for the priests to stand in the place where the people could see their tears and where God could hear their cry. It was a call to rebuild the altar.

The modern church has pastors who can run a service but cannot call down fire, leaders who can manage a budget but cannot hear the Shepherd’s voice, worship teams who can sing but cannot travail, and congregations who can attend but cannot testify. We have a priesthood without encounter, a ministry without fire, and a generation without remembrance. The apostle Paul wrote, “When you come together, each one has a psalm, a teaching, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation” [1 Corinthians 14:26], yet in most churches today the only voice heard is the one behind the pulpit. The people of God have forgotten how to speak of the works of God because they have forgotten how to meet Him.

Elijah and the God Who Answers by Fire

Elijah knew where the fire fell. He did not call fire from heaven because he was loud or talented or charismatic. He called fire because he rebuilt the altar. Scripture says, “Elijah repaired the altar of the Lord that had been thrown down” [1 Kings 18:30]. He knew the God who answers by fire. He knew the difference between ritual and relationship. He knew the sound of heaven. And when he prayed, the fire fell, not because of the prayer but because of the altar. The false prophets could not call fire because they had no altar, no covenant, no encounter, and no relationship. They had built false altars to false gods, and false altars never produce true fire.

A Call to Return and Rebuild

This is the message to the modern church: return. Return to the altar. Return to the God of encounter. Return to the stones of remembrance. Return to the place where the fire once fell. Return to the Shepherd whose voice you no longer hear. Return to the testimony you no longer tell. Return to the hunger you no longer feel. Return to the God you have forgotten. Because until the altar is rebuilt, the fire will not fall. And until the fire falls, the church will remain asleep.

A Final Summons to a Wandering Generation

This is not a call to emotion or nostalgia or tradition. This is a call to awakening. A call to repentance. A call to remembrance. A call to restoration. A call to fire. The altar is broken. The fire is gone. The testimony is silent. But the Lord is calling His people back. And the priests must answer. They must stand between the porch and the altar, with tears, with remembrance, and with fire, until the God who answers by fire answers again.

STRENGTH FOR THE WEARY, THE FAINT, AND THE FORGOTTEN

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

There are seasons in the life of every believer when the soul grows tired of waiting, when the heart grows faint, and when the mind begins to wonder what God is doing behind the scenes. Scripture does not hide this reality; it speaks directly to it. The command to strengthen what remains and is about to die is not a rebuke but a rescue — a divine hand reaching into the life of the weary saint who has been faithful longer than they thought they could endure. The fainthearted are not to be shamed; they are to be encouraged. The downcast are not to be dismissed; they are to be lifted. And the struggling believer is not to be told to try harder, but to be reminded that delay is not denial — it is the testing ground of faith.

THE PRESSURE OF DELAY AND THE TEMPTATION TO COMPROMISE

When Moses ascended Mount Sinai, he remained there forty days and forty nights. During that time, the people grew restless, anxious, and uncertain. Their fear gave birth to compromise. They said, “We do not know what has become of this Moses,” and in that single sentence the human heart is exposed. When God seems distant, the giants of compromise step forward — fear, anxiety, self‑reliance, impatience, and the desire to take matters into our own hands.

Israel did not build the golden calf because they were rebellious; they built it because they were afraid. They panicked in the silence. They misinterpreted the delay. And in their fear, they squandered what God had given them.

They left Egypt with abundance. Scripture says they departed with silver, gold, and garments — the wealth of the land placed into their hands by the favor of God. Yet in the wilderness, they melted that gold into an idol that could not save. What was meant to build their future was wasted in a single moment of fear. It is a sobering reminder that what God gives for the promised land can be lost in the panic of the wilderness.

THE FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN AND THE LONGING FOR EGYPT

Israel’s desire to return to Egypt was not a longing for comfort; it was a longing for predictability. Slavery was cruel, but at least tomorrow looked familiar. Freedom was glorious, but it required trust for a tomorrow they could not see. This is the greatest challenge to faith: not hardship, but uncertainty.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

It is the unseen part that tests us. It is the unknown that unnerves us. It is the silence that shakes us.

Jesus addressed this when He said:

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Matthew 6:34)

God intentionally gave Israel manna one day at a time. It was not a savings account. It was not a retirement plan. It was not security for the future. It was daily bread — enough for today, and only today.

“And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.” (1 Timothy 6:8)

Anxiety begins the moment we start looking beyond what God has given us for this day.

THE WISDOM OF ONE DAY AT A TIME

The human heart longs for certainty. We want to know that tomorrow is secure, that next week is stable, that next year is mapped out. Corporate leaders sketch five‑year plans. Financial advisors build retirement projections. But Jesus teaches us a different rhythm — a holy simplicity that refuses to borrow tomorrow’s fears.

Paul writes:

“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.” (Philippians 4:6)

The word careful means anxious, pulled apart, divided in mind. God is not asking us to ignore reality; He is asking us to refuse anxiety. He is calling us to pray instead of panic, to give thanks instead of spiraling, to trust instead of forecasting disaster.

Peter echoes this when he says:

“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

We cast our cares because He cares. We release our burdens because He receives them. We let go of tomorrow because He already holds it.

Jesus Himself taught us to pray:

“Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6:11)

Not weekly bread. Not monthly bread. Not a five‑year supply. Daily bread.

This was not poetic language — it was intentional formation. Jesus was teaching us to live in the same rhythm God taught Israel in the wilderness. Manna was never meant to be stored. It was never meant to be saved. It was never meant to be hoarded. It was meant to be gathered fresh every morning, reminding the people that God’s faithfulness is renewed with the dawn.

And Jesus ties this directly to anxiety when He says:

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow… Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Matthew 6:34)

There is wisdom in one day at a time. There is peace in one day at a time. There is provision in one day at a time. There is strength in one day at a time.

Anxiety begins the moment we try to live in days God has not given us yet. Faith begins the moment we trust Him for the day we are in.

THE DELAYED ANSWER AND THE WAR IN THE INVISIBLE REALM

The verse that ties this entire message together is found in Daniel’s prayer. When Daniel sought the Lord, the angel told him:

“From the first day that thou didst set thine heart to understand… thy words were heard… but the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me one and twenty days.” (Daniel 10:12–13)

Heaven moved the moment Daniel prayed. The answer was dispatched immediately. The delay was not denial; it was warfare. The silence was not absence; it was resistance. The struggle was not personal; it was spiritual.

This is what the weary saint must understand: your prayer was heard the first day. Your answer is already in motion. Your delay is not God ignoring you — it is the enemy resisting what God has already released.

THE CALL TO THE FAINTHEARTED: DO NOT LOSE HEART

Paul wrote:

“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Galatians 6:9)

Weariness is not failure; it is evidence that you have been faithful. The fainthearted are not to be warned but encouraged. The weak are not to be pushed but supported.

“Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees.” (Hebrews 12:12)

God does not despise the weary; He strengthens them. He does not shame the faint; He upholds them.

“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Even the strong grow weary. Even the young faint. Even the gifted burn out. But the eagle does not rise by flapping harder; it rises by waiting for the wind. Waiting is not inactivity — it is alignment.

THE WORD TO THE ONE WHO IS ABOUT TO FAINT

To the saint who feels forgotten, discarded, or overlooked… to the believer who has prayed and heard nothing… to the one who has waited and seen no change… to the heart that is tired of hoping… hear this.

You are not abandoned. You are not ignored. You are not invisible. You are not failing. You are not forgotten.

Delay is not denial. Silence is not absence. Waiting is not wasting. And fainting is not falling away.

God is working in the unseen. He is fighting battles you cannot see. He is moving in ways you cannot measure. He is preparing answers you cannot imagine.

Strengthen what remains. Hold fast to what is alive. Do not throw away your confidence. Do not surrender your hope. Do not bow to the giants of compromise.

Your God is coming. Your answer is on the way. Your strength is being renewed. Your faith is being refined. Your future is being prepared.

And when the wind of God lifts you again, you will rise higher than you ever thought possible.

Sunday Drive Devotional: Keeping Between the Lines

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

“Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.”** (Jeremiah 6:16**)

The Ancient Paths and the Modern Highway

There’s a quiet wisdom built into every well‑marked road. The lines don’t shout, they don’t argue, and they don’t demand attention. They simply guide. Jeremiah called them the “ancient paths,” the good way laid down long before we arrived, the road that leads to rest. Those ancient paths were never meant to be decorative. They were meant to be followed.

But even the best paths need maintenance. When a road is neglected, it stops feeling ancient and starts feeling hazardous. A once‑smooth drive becomes an obstacle course, a vehicular game of dodgeball or bumper cars. Instead of enjoying the journey, you spend your time bracing for impact.

Anyone who has driven a Pennsylvania backroad in early spring knows the feeling. One moment you’re admiring the scenery, and the next you’re praying your suspension survives the pothole that just tried to swallow your front tire. Potholes have a way of reminding us that even the oldest, most trusted paths require care.

Learning to Drive on the Roads That Teach Us

Many country roads don’t have lane markers at all, but that doesn’t mean the driver is free to improvise. Your driving habits were shaped on the roads that did have lines, the ones that trained your eyes, your instincts, and your sense of responsibility. The driving test wasn’t about memorizing rules; it was about forming habits that would keep you and everyone around you safe.

God’s Kingdom works the same way. His boundaries are not burdens; they are blessings. They are not restrictions; they are protections. They are not obstacles; they are guidance.

Scripture tells us that God set the planets in their courses and told the ocean how far it may come (Job 38:11, Psalm 19:6). All of creation honors the lines He drew. The stars don’t wander. The tides don’t rebel. The seasons don’t negotiate. Creation stays in its lane.

And then there is humanity, the only part of creation that looks at God’s markings and says, “I think I’ll try something different.” One person ignoring the rules of the road can cause a wreck. One believer ignoring the wisdom of God can cause spiritual damage that ripples far beyond their own life.

Returning to the Good Way

Jeremiah’s call to “ask for the ancient paths” wasn’t nostalgia. It was an invitation to return to the well‑marked road, the one God laid out for our good. The one that leads to rest, not chaos. The one that keeps us from turning life into a demolition derby of our own making.

The lines are there because God loves us. The boundaries exist because the journey matters. The ancient paths still lead to rest but only if we stay on them.

So today, as you drive, let the road preach. Let the lane markers remind you of God’s steady guidance. Let the potholes remind you that neglect creates danger. Let the whole journey point you back to the One who laid out the path long before you ever set foot on it.

Closing Prayer

Father, thank You for the ancient paths You have laid before us. Teach us to honor the lines You have drawn, not as restrictions but as gifts of protection and peace. Keep our hearts attentive, our steps steady, and our lives aligned with Your wisdom. Strengthen us to walk in the good way, to maintain the paths entrusted to us, and to travel with humility, gratitude, and obedience. Lead us safely, guide us faithfully, and grant us rest for our souls as we follow Your road. Amen.

In One Ear and Out the Other: When the Word Never Reaches the Heart

Allen Frederick Leave a comment


A Funny Story With a Not‑So‑Funny Truth

Three men went deer hunting, and as they crossed a field on their way to the woods, a massive buck jumped up right in front of them. All three fired at the same moment. The buck dropped instantly, and the men hurried over—only to realize they had a problem. Who actually shot the deer?

As they stood there debating, a game warden approached to check licenses. Hearing the dilemma, he knelt down, examined the buck, and said, “One of you is a preacher, right?” Sure enough, one of them was. The warden nodded and said, “Well, the preacher’s the one who got him.” The men stared at him in disbelief. “How can you know that?” The warden shrugged. “Simple. The bullet went in one ear and out the other.”

It’s a humorous story, but beneath the laughter lies a sobering truth—one James warned the church about with prophetic clarity when he wrote, “Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (James 1:22).

When Hearing Becomes Self‑Deception

Hearing is not the problem. Hearing without obeying is. A message that goes in one ear and out the other never reaches the heart, and the heart is the only place where real transformation takes place. Jesus Himself said the greatest commandment is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). The mind matters. The mind is essential. But the mind is not the destination. It is the doorway. The heart is the target.

The preacher in the story fired a shot that passed through the deer’s head but never touched the heart. It produced death, not life. It left a carcass, not a conversion. And that is exactly what happens when the Word of God is received only at the level of intellect. It may pass through the mind, but if it never penetrates the heart, it cannot produce obedience, repentance, or new life. It becomes information without transformation.

A Wound That Never Heals Becomes Fatal

Here is the deeper truth: a bullet that never reaches the heart can still kill you. It can wound you. It can tear flesh, rupture arteries, and leave you bleeding out. A wound is not harmless simply because it missed the center.

And the same is true of the Word when it is only received intellectually. A sermon aimed at the mind alone may not transform you, but it can still wound you. It can leave you convicted but unchanged, aware of truth but still resisting it. You can feel the sting of conviction without ever surrendering to it. And that kind of wound, left unattended, becomes spiritually fatal.

The writer of Hebrews says, “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two‑edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12). The Word is designed to pierce. It is meant to cut deep enough to expose motives, confront sin, and bring healing through repentance. But when the Word is only admired, analyzed, or agreed with—when it is heard but not obeyed—it becomes a cut that never closes. Over time, the soul begins to hemorrhage. Not because the Word failed, but because the heart never yielded.

When the Lips Say “Amen” but the Heart Stays Distant

Jesus described this condition when He said, “This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me” (Matthew 15:8). The mind can say “Amen” while the heart remains untouched. The intellect can applaud truth while the will refuses to bow to it.

James continues this warning by saying, “For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror… and goes away and at once forgets what he was like” (James 1:23–24). The problem is not the hearing. The problem is the forgetting. The problem is the lack of response. The problem is the absence of obedience.

Truth that only grazes the mind can still leave a person spiritually dying. Truth that never reaches the heart cannot save. Truth that never produces obedience becomes a slow bleed. Eternal death does not always come from outright rebellion. Sometimes it comes from a lifetime of sermons that never penetrated deeper than the intellect.

The Word Must Be Received With Surrender, Not Just Agreement

This is why preaching must aim for the heart. This is why hearing must lead to doing. This is why the Word must be received with surrender, not merely agreement. Jesus said, “Everyone then who hears these words of Mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock” (Matthew 7:24). Hearing is the beginning. Doing is the evidence. Obedience is the fruit. Transformation is the result.

Do not let God’s Word pass through you without penetrating you. Do not let it skim the surface of your mind without sinking into the soil of your heart. Do not let it go in one ear and out the other. Slow down. Meditate. Respond. Obey. Let the Word reach the place where life is changed. Let it pierce, not to destroy, but to heal. Let it cut, not to wound, but to free. Let it strike the heart, for only there does the Word bring life. It isn’t about how much Bible you know or can quote but how much you actually put into practice.

Don’t let His Word go in one ear

and right out the other!

Ten Rules of Living

Allen Frederick 1 Comment

1) Prayer is not a "spare wheel" that you pull out when in trouble. It is a "steering wheel" that directs us in the right path throughout life.

2) Do you know why a car’s windshield is so large and the rear view mirror is so small? Because our past is not as important as our future. So, look ahead and move on.

3) Friendship is like a book. It takes few seconds to burn, but it takes years to write.

4) All things in life are temporary. If going well, enjoy it; it may not last forever. If going wrong, don’t worry; it may not last long either.

5) Old friends are like gold! New friends are diamonds! If you get a diamond, don’t forget the gold! Because to hold a diamond, you always need a base of gold!

6)  Often when we lose hope and think this is the end, God smiles and says, "Relax, it’s just a bend, not the end!"

7) When God solves your problems, you have faith in His abilities; when God doesn’t solve your problems, He has faith in your abilities.

8) A blind person asked St. Anthony : "Can there be anything worse than losing eye sight ?" He replied: "Yes, losing your vision."

9) When you pray for others, God listens to you and blesses them; and sometimes, when you are safe and happy, remember that someone has prayed for you.

10) Worrying does not take away tomorrow’s troubles. It takes away today’s peace.

–author unknown

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