There comes a moment in every believer’s life, a holy threshold you might say, when God does not merely call us to remember Him.. but to return to Him. Not to repeat the past, but to rebuild the altar. To return to the place where grace first struck us and to step forward into our true identity in Christ that was always waiting on the other side of surrender.
In Genesis 35, Jacob hears such a call. The Lord says:
“Go up to Bethel and dwell there. Build an altar to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau.” (Genesis 35:1)
This is not just a moment of spiritual nostalgia. This is a liturgy of return. Jacob, who had once encountered God in fear and desperation, is now told to come back and build, not just to recall, but to enshrine the memory into stone and oil. This is personal revival, but not in the way we often think. Not hype. Not emotionalism. This is holy memory turned mystery, sacrament. A convergence of the past mercy of God with the present obedience of His servant.
“Trust the past to God’s mercy, the present to God’s love, and the future to God’s providence.” - St. Augustine
When God Says “Go Up”
Notice that Jacob’s response is priestly in nature. He tells his household:
“Put away your foreign gods. Purify yourselves. Change your garments.” (Genesis 35:2)
This is not mere moralism. This is ritual purification; A call to baptismal renewal. In sacred terms, it is a dying to idols, a washing of identity, a robe of righteousness laid upon the weary sojourner.
He buries the foreign gods beneath the oak of Shechem. The place of idols becomes a grave. And then.. they ascend.
“Repentance raises the soul, mourning knocks at the gate of Heaven, and holy humility opens it.” - St. John of the Ladder, The Ladder of Divine Ascent
This is the momentum of all true revival: repentance, renunciation, return, resurrection. This is not an earning by the sweat of your brow, but a surrendering to and entering fully into the mystery and ministry of reconciliation.
El-Bethel: The God of the House of God
When Jacob reaches Bethel, he builds. And in that sacred space, the Lord meets him again.
“God appeared to him again… and said: Your name is Jacob. You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel.” (Genesis 35:9–10)
The God who encountered him in his fleeing now names him in his returning.
This is the holy mystery of renaming, the new creation identity at work as a pre-figure of what Christ would accomplish on the cross. Where once we wrestled, now we are commissioned. Where once we ran, now we are renamed.
And Jacob marks this moment with sacramental symbols:
“He poured out a drink offering… and poured oil on it.” (Genesis 35:14)
Wine and oil. Offering and anointing. The altar becomes the tabernacle of transformation.
“The soul is moved toward God by sacred signs.” - St. Hildegard of Bingen
Our Limits Are God’s Opportunities
In 1 Samuel 7, we see a similar movement. Israel, under the priesthood of Samuel, returns to the Lord. They fast. They confess. They gather in repentance. And again, the enemy rises.
“Samuel took a suckling lamb and offered it as a whole burnt offering to the Lord… and the Lord thundered with a mighty sound that day against the Philistines.” (1 Samuel 7:9–10)
What is this but altar theology in action? When man reaches his limit, God steps in with thunder. The thunder of grace, The thunder of Truth.
When we offer what we have, God offers what we are not yet capable of carrying.
“He who draws near to God in humility will never be abandoned.” - St. Macrina the Younger
“Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”
- Jesus, John 15:5
A New Name, A New Altar, A New Wineskin
Jacob’s encounter is a pattern we see all throughout the sacred story. In Malachi, God promises to send Elijah (a spiritual and prophetic mantle) to turn hearts and prepare the way. In John the Baptist, we see a man named “John,” but known in heaven as Elijah. Heaven doesn’t label people by profession, but by identity in the Spirit. In Acts, the miraculous fire of Pentecost is not a one-time event, it’s a sacred spark that sets the Roman Empire ablaze, carrying the flame of the Kingdom to the ends of the earth.
The same invitation comes to us today.
Will we go up to Bethel? Will we return to the place where God once spoke? Not to recreate an experience, but to receive a new name, a deeper identity, a fresh commission?
What Sustains the Flame?
Jesus gives us the keys in Revelation 2–3.
To Ephesus: Return to your first love.
To Sardis: Wake up and strengthen what remains.
To Laodicea: Repent of lukewarmness and open the door.
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with Me.” (Revelation 3:20)
This is the Eucharist of common union. This is altar, oil, wine, and word. This is the place where God speaks again.
Jesus is ready to refresh and revive you, and not as a vague emotional boost, but as a sacramental breaking-in of the Kingdom.
A real visitation. A real altar. A real transformation. Return to Bethel. Build again. Surrender again.
And let Him speak your new name.
~ R. Alvin Radosti