If The Altar Could Talk

If the altar could talk, what stories it could tell!

Like the time the old sinner, full of hate and resentment, poured his heart out to God as he felt His tender touch for the very first time.

How would the altar describe the tears that spilled from the eyes of a little boy who had just heard a missionary tell about the millions of people, living without all the toys and the home like he was blessed to have, who had never heard of Jesus?

What would it say about the drug-addicted hippie who in his 1960's flower child slang apologized to God for a life of careless rebellion?

What words would the altar use to portray the faces of the radiant bride and proud groom as they pledged to each other their undying love?

What would it say about the mother pleading with God to keep watch over her wayward child?

How many solemn promises has it heard from too many generations of mothers who offered their own lives in exchange for those of their soldier-sons fighting in some far away country?

Would the altar’s lips quiver as it recalled a brand-new mom and dad laying their sleeping infant on its smooth plank and dedicating it to the Lord?

Would the altar boast of the times it has borne the coffin of a faithful child of God?

If the altar could hear, what stories it must have collected! If it could talk, what scenes it could describe!

If the altar could keep up with the news and the changing times, it would be interesting to hear it tell us about the people it had watched come and go.

Maybe that hateful old man is now the loving grandfather that all the children in the church rush to hug before every service.

Perhaps that little Sunday school boy who cried when he heard the missionary’s stories is the man who preached last Sunday.

The bride and groom who stood here years ago may now be introducing other families to the God they still meet with at the altar.

But what about the momma whose boy came back safely from the army, but she forgot all about the promises she made at the altar?

Where is the teenager that God kept from getting killed in an auto accident, who, in the excitement of life, forgot all he had told God at the altar?

What happened to the father who the altar heard say that he wanted his son to grow up to serve God, but found himself too busy to bother with church?

What would it say about the marriages that didn’t last and the commitments that were broken?

If the altar could talk, what would it say about how well you have lived up to the bargains you’ve made with God around that special place?

If the altar could talk, what would it say about me?

©2006 Doug Ellingsworth