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Part 1 of 5ALTARations - Goated Vol. 4
ALTARations Series, Part 9
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
Part 1 of 5ALTARations - Goated Vol. 4
ALTARations Series, Part 9
Continue exploring
Connected by scripture or shared themes.
I want to start with a statement that many may find shocking, but I believe it's significant for today's sermon: just because something is offered doesn't mean it should be accepted. And just because something is given doesn't mean it's God.
The only individuals who accept anything with no examination are those who think they have no options—or worse, those who have options but don't have standards. The absence of standards suggests the presence of confusion. It indicates that a person doesn't have the revelation that they are made as an image-bearer of God. They are operating without a divine appraisal of who they are, whose they are, and what they carry.
Here's what I want you to understand about standards: Standards aren't the most you desire. They are the least you will allow. Standards aren't the ceiling; they are the floor. Standards aren't what you want to have; they are what you won't live without. Standards are not arrogance—standards are awareness that God has given me responsibility to properly steward that which He entrusted to me.
Without standards, we become victims of our own impulses, slaves to circumstances, and casualties to compromise. Standards are one of the most unemphasized spiritual assets. They are not human hubris; standards are spiritual scaffolding necessary for spiritual growth.
When you have standards, people cannot dangle opportunities in front of you like a carrot. I believe there's a God who does not require me to sacrifice what He wants in order to get what I want. And if I have to sacrifice what He wants in order to get what I want, I don't want it, because it means it's not what He wants for me.
Standards are important for us because standards teach people how to love you. Did you hear that? Standards don't change people—standards change how people handle you. I don't care what you do with everybody else. I'm not everybody else. Standards teach people how to love you.
Understanding and embracing standards not only helps you relate to people; it also helps you relate to God, because God is a God of standards. And because God has standards, just because something is offered, just because it's accepted somewhere else, doesn't mean He accepts it.
All throughout Scripture, we see examples of God not accepting what's offered because it doesn't meet His standard.
We see it in Genesis with Adam and Eve's two sons, Cain and Abel. When they are both instructed to bring God an offering, Abel brings the first and the best. Cain brings from among what he has.
"In the course of time, Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. Abel also brought an offering, fat portions from the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering He did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry and his face was downcast. Then the Lord said to Cain, 'Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted?'"
Cain wanted Abel's results without Abel's work. If you put the energy into working that you're putting into hating, then you will get a different result. Just because it's offered doesn't mean it's accepted, because God has standards.
We see this again in 1 Samuel where God gave a king named Saul very specific instruction to handle the Amalekites, a generational enemy of Israel from the days of Moses.
Here's an important principle: Even when you're in a low place, learn to keep your hands high. If you can keep your hands high, even when you're in a low place, you can win even while you're low.
For generation after generation, the Amalekites would not leave Israel alone. God told Saul to handle them. And here's something important: God is not obligated to give explanation when He gives instruction. Just because He doesn't give an explanation doesn't mean there isn't one. Sometimes you have to do what God says when it doesn't make sense.
But Saul partially obeyed. He didn't completely disobey—he spared the king and some of their animals. God spoke to Samuel, the prophet who counseled Saul, and said, "I regret that I picked Saul." Even in correcting Saul, God said, "When you were little in your own eyes, you were more faithful. But there's something about this throne that caused you to forget I'm the one who's supposed to be sitting on it. I didn't put you there for your agenda; I put you there for My agenda."
When Samuel confronted Saul, asking what he had done, Saul said he had obeyed and would sacrifice the animals to God. Samuel responded:
"Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? Obedience is better than sacrifice."
God was saying, "You want Me to accept your sacrifice? If it's not obedience, you want Me to take what you want to give Me when I'm trying to teach you how to give Me what I want." Saul wanted to offer the sacrifice, but it wasn't accepted. Just because it's offered doesn't mean it's accepted, because God has standards.
We see this in the last book of the Old Testament, Malachi—the last prophetic voice before 400 years of silence until John the Baptist. Malachi provides a corrective message against the priests.
God says through Malachi:
"A son honors his father, a slave his master. If I'm a father, where's the honor due to Me? If I'm a master, where's the respect due to Me? It is you priests who show contempt to My name by offering defiled food on My altar. When you offer blind animals as a sacrifice, is that not wrong?"
Let me contemporize the text: You know you're wrong. When it's time to sacrifice to Me, you go in the backyard and find the goats that are blind and running into each other, and you bring that to Me. You find the sheep with three legs and you bring that sheep to Me, but you take the sheep with four legs down to the market because you can get the most for it. And the reason I know you know you're wrong is because you wouldn't try that with your governor. I'm the best to you, but I get the least from you.
Just because you're offering it doesn't mean I accept it, because I have standards.
You cannot understand the essence of what Jesus is saying in Matthew 5 about altars and offering without understanding this theme throughout Scripture. In Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is providing what I call healthy deconstruction—a systematic deconstruction of religious misinterpretation of divine intent.
Jesus says, "You heard it said, but I say..." because He is exposing the difference between what people say God said and what God actually said. This is healthy deconstruction—deconstructing tradition from truth so you can align with truth. Unhealthy deconstruction wants to redefine truth; Jesus wants them to see the difference between what they think God wants and what God actually wants.
In the latter part of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has a conversation about altars and gifts, which are expressions of worship. He addresses something critical:
"Therefore if you are offering your gift at the altar, and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them. Then come and offer your gift."
Let me summarize what Jesus is saying: God not only looks at what we are bringing in worship. God also looks at what you're carrying in your heart. Unadressed mess with people impacts the way you meet with God.
Jesus is deconstructing the compartmentalization that people have when they think they can carry hate in their heart toward people and then offer up pure praise to God. He's saying it's offered, but it's not accepted. Because we look at what we're bringing, He looks at what we're carrying.
We may be bringing adoration, but He sees we're carrying anger. We may be bringing praise, but He sees we're carrying pride. We may be bringing gifts, but He sees we're carrying grudges. If we try to engage in the bringing but refuse to address what we're carrying, then the worship is offered, but it's not accepted.
Jesus begins verse 23 with the word "therefore," connecting what He's about to say to verses 21-22, where He talks about anger and how anger leads to assassination—not just literally, but metaphorically. You cannot be exalting the Creator and assassinating somebody's character at the same time. He is addressing spiritual dissonance—when there's a disconnect between what we profess about God and how we practice toward people.
James refers to this in James 3:9:
"With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing, my brothers and sisters, this should not be so."
This kind of dissonance hardens the heart. It allows us to feel spiritual while staying spiteful. It allows us to feel holy while staying hateful. Eventually it makes worship mechanical because your heart becomes hardened. A hardened heart can't be compartmentalized.
Now, here's what's crucial about the word "remember" in Matthew 5:23. The word remember in the Greek is not a word that means human recall. It's a word that speaks to divine enlightenment. It is when God brings to your memory a grievance that someone is carrying as a result of a legitimate wound you caused.
Jesus is not saying you should become obsessed with trying to figure out everybody that's offended with you, because some people's offense is rooted in their filter, not in fact. Your coach may have told you, "When you're talking to people, you're never talking to people—you're talking to their filter." The filter determines how they interpret what you say and what you do. The filter is something they accumulated before you. So Jesus is not saying, "Try to go around and figure out every day who's mad at me," because some people are angry over perceived offense. They confuse feeling wronged with being wronged.
In John 6, Jesus makes a statement to a group of believers: "Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no part of me." Many left that day to follow no further. They got upset because they thought Jesus meant He wanted them to chew on His calf muscle. But He said, "I don't mean eat My flesh literally. I'm not telling you to drink My blood. It's a metaphor for oneness and communion." People got upset and walked away from a relationship they needed because they misinterpreted what Jesus meant. All they had to do was ask a question.
So Jesus is saying: When the Holy Spirit brings to your remembrance someone who is dealing with a genuine grievance because of something you legitimately contributed to, don't you sit there and just worship while they're wounded. You're happy and holy, and they're still hurting. God says, "You told Me you were sorry, but you didn't..." and then you come to worship as if everything is fine.
Jesus says, "If you remember that this has happened, leave the gift in front of the altar first. Go and be reconciled to them. Then come and offer your gift." If you're really honest, when you're harboring something in your heart, it impacts your ability to engage with the Father. It's not that you can't engage, but you don't engage the same, because God is like, "You're trying to disconnect things that I don't disconnect."
Here's what I call a logical exegetical conclusion: It means the Scripture doesn't explicitly state this, but we can logically apply Scripture to more than what's stated. For example, the Bible says don't be unequally yoked. While that passage might not be talking about romantic relationships, if it applies to platonic relationships, we can logically conclude it definitely applies to a spouse.
So if Jesus says if you remember someone has offense against you, you need to deal with it, logically we can say: If I also am carrying offense with someone, if something is in my heart, I also need to go. Not just if something is in their heart—if something is also in my heart, I need to go.
Here's where I'm going with this: My authentic encounters with God alter me, but offense alters my ability to authentically encounter God. The enemy goes after my alterations by going after authentic encounters with God. One of the ways he does this is by inflicting me with chronic offense.
Some of you have to understand this: the reason you're being constantly tried is not coincidental—it's what I would call spiritual warfare. What most people call spiritual warfare are extreme instances like demonization. But by the time demonization happens, you've been in spiritual warfare long before that. The enemy uses the accumulation of little things.
You feel like all the betrayal and exploitation is coincidental, but it's really a satanic attack to pervert the purity of your heart. The devil knows your heart is required for your assignment. The devil can't take your gifts, but if he changes your heart, you show up with your gift differently. He arranges offense because he wants offense to take hold of your heart.
The people with the best hearts are the people that will be betrayed the most. The devil doesn't like that heart. That heart makes you selfless. That heart makes you generous. That heart makes you sacrificial. That heart makes you a servant. The enemy doesn't want you to be generous and to be a servant, so he wants to infect your heart with offense.
But he can't have it. I came to remind you today: The devil is a liar. You can't have my heart. Not another day, devil. I see your scheme. I see your plan. You want my offense to be a fence, but I'm getting ready to get a breakthrough. You can't have my heart.
Gifts and callings are without repentance—he can't get those. But you can't have my heart. I'm not crying anymore. I'm not worried anymore. I'm not going to lose my mind. I'm not going to go crazy. Why? Because it's the last day of the devil's reign over my heart.
I got my heart back. I got it back.
For unadressed bitterness, offense, and heart wounds that we're carrying—would God be a heart surgeon in this house? Would you heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds? I pray for supernatural extraction of the roots of bitterness. Come on out of there. What mama did, come on out of there. What the wife did, come on out of there. What the husband did, come on out of there. What church did, come on out of there. Would you extract every bitter root and set the hearts of your people free in Jesus's name?
I want to start with a statement that many may find shocking, but I believe it's significant for today's sermon: just because something is offered doesn't mean it should be accepted. And just because something is given doesn't mean it's God.
The only individuals who accept anything with no examination are those who think they have no options—or worse, those who have options but don't have standards. The absence of standards suggests the presence of confusion. It indicates that a person doesn't have the revelation that they are made as an image-bearer of God. They are operating without a divine appraisal of who they are, whose they are, and what they carry.
Here's what I want you to understand about standards: Standards aren't the most you desire. They are the least you will allow. Standards aren't the ceiling; they are the floor. Standards aren't what you want to have; they are what you won't live without. Standards are not arrogance—standards are awareness that God has given me responsibility to properly steward that which He entrusted to me.
Without standards, we become victims of our own impulses, slaves to circumstances, and casualties to compromise. Standards are one of the most unemphasized spiritual assets. They are not human hubris; standards are spiritual scaffolding necessary for spiritual growth.
When you have standards, people cannot dangle opportunities in front of you like a carrot. I believe there's a God who does not require me to sacrifice what He wants in order to get what I want. And if I have to sacrifice what He wants in order to get what I want, I don't want it, because it means it's not what He wants for me.
Standards are important for us because standards teach people how to love you. Did you hear that? Standards don't change people—standards change how people handle you. I don't care what you do with everybody else. I'm not everybody else. Standards teach people how to love you.
Understanding and embracing standards not only helps you relate to people; it also helps you relate to God, because God is a God of standards. And because God has standards, just because something is offered, just because it's accepted somewhere else, doesn't mean He accepts it.
All throughout Scripture, we see examples of God not accepting what's offered because it doesn't meet His standard.
We see it in Genesis with Adam and Eve's two sons, Cain and Abel. When they are both instructed to bring God an offering, Abel brings the first and the best. Cain brings from among what he has.
"In the course of time, Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. Abel also brought an offering, fat portions from the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering He did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry and his face was downcast. Then the Lord said to Cain, 'Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted?'"
Cain wanted Abel's results without Abel's work. If you put the energy into working that you're putting into hating, then you will get a different result. Just because it's offered doesn't mean it's accepted, because God has standards.
We see this again in 1 Samuel where God gave a king named Saul very specific instruction to handle the Amalekites, a generational enemy of Israel from the days of Moses.
Here's an important principle: Even when you're in a low place, learn to keep your hands high. If you can keep your hands high, even when you're in a low place, you can win even while you're low.
For generation after generation, the Amalekites would not leave Israel alone. God told Saul to handle them. And here's something important: God is not obligated to give explanation when He gives instruction. Just because He doesn't give an explanation doesn't mean there isn't one. Sometimes you have to do what God says when it doesn't make sense.
But Saul partially obeyed. He didn't completely disobey—he spared the king and some of their animals. God spoke to Samuel, the prophet who counseled Saul, and said, "I regret that I picked Saul." Even in correcting Saul, God said, "When you were little in your own eyes, you were more faithful. But there's something about this throne that caused you to forget I'm the one who's supposed to be sitting on it. I didn't put you there for your agenda; I put you there for My agenda."
When Samuel confronted Saul, asking what he had done, Saul said he had obeyed and would sacrifice the animals to God. Samuel responded:
"Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? Obedience is better than sacrifice."
God was saying, "You want Me to accept your sacrifice? If it's not obedience, you want Me to take what you want to give Me when I'm trying to teach you how to give Me what I want." Saul wanted to offer the sacrifice, but it wasn't accepted. Just because it's offered doesn't mean it's accepted, because God has standards.
We see this in the last book of the Old Testament, Malachi—the last prophetic voice before 400 years of silence until John the Baptist. Malachi provides a corrective message against the priests.
God says through Malachi:
"A son honors his father, a slave his master. If I'm a father, where's the honor due to Me? If I'm a master, where's the respect due to Me? It is you priests who show contempt to My name by offering defiled food on My altar. When you offer blind animals as a sacrifice, is that not wrong?"
Let me contemporize the text: You know you're wrong. When it's time to sacrifice to Me, you go in the backyard and find the goats that are blind and running into each other, and you bring that to Me. You find the sheep with three legs and you bring that sheep to Me, but you take the sheep with four legs down to the market because you can get the most for it. And the reason I know you know you're wrong is because you wouldn't try that with your governor. I'm the best to you, but I get the least from you.
Just because you're offering it doesn't mean I accept it, because I have standards.
You cannot understand the essence of what Jesus is saying in Matthew 5 about altars and offering without understanding this theme throughout Scripture. In Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is providing what I call healthy deconstruction—a systematic deconstruction of religious misinterpretation of divine intent.
Jesus says, "You heard it said, but I say..." because He is exposing the difference between what people say God said and what God actually said. This is healthy deconstruction—deconstructing tradition from truth so you can align with truth. Unhealthy deconstruction wants to redefine truth; Jesus wants them to see the difference between what they think God wants and what God actually wants.
In the latter part of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has a conversation about altars and gifts, which are expressions of worship. He addresses something critical:
"Therefore if you are offering your gift at the altar, and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them. Then come and offer your gift."
Let me summarize what Jesus is saying: God not only looks at what we are bringing in worship. God also looks at what you're carrying in your heart. Unadressed mess with people impacts the way you meet with God.
Jesus is deconstructing the compartmentalization that people have when they think they can carry hate in their heart toward people and then offer up pure praise to God. He's saying it's offered, but it's not accepted. Because we look at what we're bringing, He looks at what we're carrying.
We may be bringing adoration, but He sees we're carrying anger. We may be bringing praise, but He sees we're carrying pride. We may be bringing gifts, but He sees we're carrying grudges. If we try to engage in the bringing but refuse to address what we're carrying, then the worship is offered, but it's not accepted.
Jesus begins verse 23 with the word "therefore," connecting what He's about to say to verses 21-22, where He talks about anger and how anger leads to assassination—not just literally, but metaphorically. You cannot be exalting the Creator and assassinating somebody's character at the same time. He is addressing spiritual dissonance—when there's a disconnect between what we profess about God and how we practice toward people.
James refers to this in James 3:9:
"With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing, my brothers and sisters, this should not be so."
This kind of dissonance hardens the heart. It allows us to feel spiritual while staying spiteful. It allows us to feel holy while staying hateful. Eventually it makes worship mechanical because your heart becomes hardened. A hardened heart can't be compartmentalized.
Now, here's what's crucial about the word "remember" in Matthew 5:23. The word remember in the Greek is not a word that means human recall. It's a word that speaks to divine enlightenment. It is when God brings to your memory a grievance that someone is carrying as a result of a legitimate wound you caused.
Jesus is not saying you should become obsessed with trying to figure out everybody that's offended with you, because some people's offense is rooted in their filter, not in fact. Your coach may have told you, "When you're talking to people, you're never talking to people—you're talking to their filter." The filter determines how they interpret what you say and what you do. The filter is something they accumulated before you. So Jesus is not saying, "Try to go around and figure out every day who's mad at me," because some people are angry over perceived offense. They confuse feeling wronged with being wronged.
In John 6, Jesus makes a statement to a group of believers: "Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you have no part of me." Many left that day to follow no further. They got upset because they thought Jesus meant He wanted them to chew on His calf muscle. But He said, "I don't mean eat My flesh literally. I'm not telling you to drink My blood. It's a metaphor for oneness and communion." People got upset and walked away from a relationship they needed because they misinterpreted what Jesus meant. All they had to do was ask a question.
So Jesus is saying: When the Holy Spirit brings to your remembrance someone who is dealing with a genuine grievance because of something you legitimately contributed to, don't you sit there and just worship while they're wounded. You're happy and holy, and they're still hurting. God says, "You told Me you were sorry, but you didn't..." and then you come to worship as if everything is fine.
Jesus says, "If you remember that this has happened, leave the gift in front of the altar first. Go and be reconciled to them. Then come and offer your gift." If you're really honest, when you're harboring something in your heart, it impacts your ability to engage with the Father. It's not that you can't engage, but you don't engage the same, because God is like, "You're trying to disconnect things that I don't disconnect."
Here's what I call a logical exegetical conclusion: It means the Scripture doesn't explicitly state this, but we can logically apply Scripture to more than what's stated. For example, the Bible says don't be unequally yoked. While that passage might not be talking about romantic relationships, if it applies to platonic relationships, we can logically conclude it definitely applies to a spouse.
So if Jesus says if you remember someone has offense against you, you need to deal with it, logically we can say: If I also am carrying offense with someone, if something is in my heart, I also need to go. Not just if something is in their heart—if something is also in my heart, I need to go.
Here's where I'm going with this: My authentic encounters with God alter me, but offense alters my ability to authentically encounter God. The enemy goes after my alterations by going after authentic encounters with God. One of the ways he does this is by inflicting me with chronic offense.
Some of you have to understand this: the reason you're being constantly tried is not coincidental—it's what I would call spiritual warfare. What most people call spiritual warfare are extreme instances like demonization. But by the time demonization happens, you've been in spiritual warfare long before that. The enemy uses the accumulation of little things.
You feel like all the betrayal and exploitation is coincidental, but it's really a satanic attack to pervert the purity of your heart. The devil knows your heart is required for your assignment. The devil can't take your gifts, but if he changes your heart, you show up with your gift differently. He arranges offense because he wants offense to take hold of your heart.
The people with the best hearts are the people that will be betrayed the most. The devil doesn't like that heart. That heart makes you selfless. That heart makes you generous. That heart makes you sacrificial. That heart makes you a servant. The enemy doesn't want you to be generous and to be a servant, so he wants to infect your heart with offense.
But he can't have it. I came to remind you today: The devil is a liar. You can't have my heart. Not another day, devil. I see your scheme. I see your plan. You want my offense to be a fence, but I'm getting ready to get a breakthrough. You can't have my heart.
Gifts and callings are without repentance—he can't get those. But you can't have my heart. I'm not crying anymore. I'm not worried anymore. I'm not going to lose my mind. I'm not going to go crazy. Why? Because it's the last day of the devil's reign over my heart.
I got my heart back. I got it back.
For unadressed bitterness, offense, and heart wounds that we're carrying—would God be a heart surgeon in this house? Would you heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds? I pray for supernatural extraction of the roots of bitterness. Come on out of there. What mama did, come on out of there. What the wife did, come on out of there. What the husband did, come on out of there. What church did, come on out of there. Would you extract every bitter root and set the hearts of your people free in Jesus's name?
