The Ancient Word...

Traveling from Beersheba to Haran, Jacob lay down to rest by the road. There the Lord appeared to him in a dream and renewed the promises He had made to Jacob's grandfather Abraham (Genesis 28:10-17).

When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it." He was afraid and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven."...

Then Jacob made a vow, saying, "If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I return safely to my father's house, then the LORD will be my God...." (Genesis 28:16-17, 20-21, NIV)

Jacob set up a stone pillar to mark the spot where he met the Lord. And he named the place Beth-El, which means "House of God" (Genesis 28:18-19).

Just as we erect historical markers to commemorate significant events, so did ancient Jews use piles of stones to remember life-changing encounters with God. To illustrate: Moses constructed twelve stone pillars at Sinai to show where God entered into Covenant with the twelve tribes of Israel (Exodus 24:4). Joshua stacked twelve stones on the bank of the Jordan River to denote the place where Israel crossed into the Promised Land (Joshua 4:1-9). And Israel carved God's law into stones on Mount Ebal, where the nation renewed its Covenant with God (Deuteronomy 27:1-8).

Often these special places received a new name. The well where God renewed Hagar's hope became Beer Lahai Roi ("Well of the Living One Who Sees Me," Genesis 16:13-14). The place where Jacob wrestled with God, both physically and spiritually, he named Peniel ("Face of God," Genesis 32:30). And, as we have seen, God made Himself real to Jacob -- and became Jacob's God -- at a place called Bethel ("House of God").

... for Today

Our day and culture take an inconsistent approach to memorializing.

On the one hand, we admire the memorials in the nation's capital -- the Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and so many more. The memorials connect us with our past and remind us of significant people and moments that affect our present experience and future dreams.

On the other hand, we do less and less to create personal or local memorials. Church plants bounce between theatres, schools, and community centers, with little or no significance attached to any particular location. We talk about sacred experiences but not sacred places. it may reflect our resistance to associate physical and spiritual elements together, or a reluctance to embrace permanence in a highly mobile society.

Consequently, we admire government memorials and neglect to build personal ones.

The real danger is not one of idolatry, as though we would worship the space itself. The greater danger is one of spiritual amnesia -- that we live disengaged from our heritage, our spiritual community, and even ourselves.

The Lord's Supper provides a present moment linking a past event with a future hope. It functions as a memorial feast. But what about the memorial places in our lives?

Where have you encountered the Lord in special ways? Where did you give your life to Him, or enter into covenant with Him?

What places did He sanctify by the touch of His hand?

Where would you set up your monuments?

Where is your "Bethel"?

Discuss...

1. Can you think of geographic places in your life where God did something special? Share your story.
   
2. We may not rename a place, or stack stones, but how could we "sanctify" a space to make it a memorial for those who come after us -- for our family or other people of faith?

Chris Davis, PhD & David Timms, PhD
Hope International University
Fullerton, California

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