The Living Way: Tearing Down Altars to Embrace God’s New Thing
There is a road I know well, a strip of tar that runs from my home in Akasia towards the heart of Pretoria. For years, I drove it watching the same landmarks: the sprawling shopping mall, the old factory with its rusted sign, the unending construction of a bridge that never seemed to finish. My mind, too, was travelling a familiar, well-worn road—a mental highway of memory. I was replaying a past season of ministry, a time of palpable revival and unity in our church, a “glory day” I found myself perpetually mourning. I had, without realizing it, built a beautiful, gilded monument to a past season and was spending my spiritual energy maintaining its shrine.
This all came to a head one Tuesday morning. I was praying, yet my prayers felt like reruns. My worship was a tribute act to yesterday’s move of God. The breaking point was a headline on my phone: another story about our beloved South Africa, this one analyzing our national “nostalgia paralysis”—our collective longing for the economic stability of the mid-2000s or the unity of 1994, while current challenges like load-shedding, unemployment, and social friction demand present-tense solutions. The Holy Spirit spoke with piercing clarity: You are doing the same. You keep visiting the shrine of what was. I am not there. I am doing a new thing now.
The Theology of Forward Motion: A Philosophical and Biblical Imperative
To understand this, we must first define our terms with philosophical precision, for sloppy thinking leads to stagnant living. Nostalgia, in a spiritual sense, is not the simple act of remembering God’s faithfulness. That is testimony, and it fuels faith. Nostalgia is the idolization of a past season. It is the belief that God’s optimal presence, favor, and methodology are anchored in a previous time, trapping His dynamic nature in a historical frame.
The biblical pattern is one of sacred progression. The Ark of the Covenant was the manifest glory of God for a season, but David had the wisdom to bring it to Jerusalem, and Solomon the mandate to build a new temple for a new era. The manna in the wilderness ceased when the Israelites ate the produce of Canaan (Joshua 5:12). Jesus told His disciples it was for their good that He went away, so the Holy Spirit—the new thing—could come (John 16:7). The argument can be formulated thus:
1. Major Premise: The God of Scripture is eternally creative and dynamic, declaring, “See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:19).
2. Minor Premise: To fixate on a past manifestation of God’s work as the ultimate or sole pattern is to confine the infinite to a finite moment.
3. Conclusion: Therefore, such fixation is a theological error that hinders personal and communal spiritual progress.
A common objection is this: But the past season was so holy, so pure. Aren’t we preserving truth? This fails because it confuses eternal truth with temporal method. The truth of God’s love is eternal. The method of how He manifests that love in your life, your church, or your nation shifts across seasons. Clinging to the method mummifies the move. We are called to be disciples, not curators.
The South African Altar: Confronting Our Collective Shrines
This temptation is not merely personal; it is woven into our South African fabric. We are a nation of profound storytellers, and rightfully so. But we must ask: which stories are we telling? Are we telling the stories that propel us forward, or are we building altars at the sites of old battles, old victories, old wounds?
I see it in our church cultures. One wing of the Body of Christ romanticizes the solemn, European-styled liturgy of the missionary era, viewing vibrant African expression in worship with suspicion. Another wing canonizes the fervor and models of the early 2000s Pentecostal boom, turning tools God used in a specific season into unchangeable laws. We sing only the songs of that revival, preach only its messages, and wonder why the fire feels like memorized lines rather than a living flame.
This is what the brilliant African theologian Professor Jacob Olupona describes as a failure of holistic spirituality. True African spirituality, he notes, is not separated from the everyday; it is dynamic and touches every facet of life. By locking God in a past cultural or spiritual expression, we commit the very error the early missionaries did: failing to see that God has been here before us and is ahead of us, calling us forward into a worship that is both authentically African and faithfully biblical.
Think of our own 2025 Christian Literature Week in Ghana, with its theme “Deepening Our Walk with God.” The focus wasn’t on reprinting old hymns exclusively, but on launching new books like Knowing & Walking In The Will Of God for today’s challenges. This is the balance: the evergreen truth of Scripture (2 Timothy 3:16-17) applied to the new wine-skins of our present reality.
The Practical Path: From Monument to Movement
So how do we tear down the altar? It is a conscious, willful act of worship. It begins with a prayer of release: “Lord, I thank you for that season. I celebrate its memory. But I release it back to you. I will not use it as a standard to judge Your present work. My hands are open, empty, and ready for the new thing.”
Then, we must actively cultivate expectant attention. We stop scanning the horizon for a repeat of the old cloud and pillar of fire and ask, “God, how are you moving today?” This might look like:
· In your personal prayer, daring to ask for a fresh word, not just revisiting last year’s promise.
· In your church, making space for a new sound, a new ministry, a new demographic, without forcing it to conform to the “glory days” template.
· As a nation, addressing the potholes and power crises of today with innovative faith, not just nostalgic sermons about yesterday’s miracles.
The final step is obedient movement. When the Israelites followed the Ark into the Jordan River, the waters parted as their feet touched the edge. The new thing is revealed on the path of obedience, not in the museum of memory (Joshua 3:15-16).
Your Greater New Day
The sun is setting now over the Magaliesberg. That road into Pretoria is changing; the bridge is finally complete, carrying traffic in new, efficient ways. My mind’s road is changing too. The monument is dismantled. The stones have been repurposed for a foundation of gratitude, not a shrine of longing.
Your past season of blessing, success, or intimacy with God was a gift. But it was not the final gift. God is not the God of was; He is the great I AM. His destiny for you is ahead, not behind. The “good old days” were merely a foretaste, a preparation for the “greater new days” He has prepared for those who love Him and dare to follow Him forward.
Let us move. Let us journey from the familiar territory of memory into the fertile, uncharted land of His promise. The pillar of cloud is moving. Pick up your tent pegs. Your future, brimming with His purpose, awaits.
Amen.
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