The Ancient Rhythm We've Forgotten: Rediscovering Vintage Faith

What the early church understood about spiritual formation that most modern believers have lost

I still remember standing in my kitchen years ago, Lynn beside me, with Keith Green playing on what must have been the twentieth repeat that week. We were newly saved, hungry, and honestly a bit clueless about what authentic Christian life was supposed to look like. But something in Keith’s voice grabbed us. One line in particular kept echoing in my heart: “Every day I pray to start anew, because I don’t want to fall away from you.”

At the time, some well-meaning believers questioned whether Keith was insecure in his salvation. But years later, I understand exactly what he meant. He wasn’t doubting his standing with God. He was acknowledging something the early church knew deeply: we drift when we stop showing up. We grow cold when we neglect the sacred rhythms that keep us connected to the source of life.

This is the problem facing most believers today. We have replaced a living, breathing faith with religious attendance. We have traded the raw, honest, daily encounter with God for Sunday performances. And in the process, we have lost something essential.

We have lost vintage faith.

What We Saw on Pentecost

Let me take you back to Acts chapter 2. Peter has just preached. Three thousand people have responded. The Spirit has fallen. And then we get this remarkable window into how the early believers actually lived their lives:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to fellowship, to sharing meals including the Lord’s Supper, and to prayer. A deep sense of awe came over them all. The apostles performed miraculous signs and wonders. The believers met together, shared everything they had, sold possessions to help those in need. They gathered at the temple daily and met in homes for meals, sharing with great joy and generosity. They praised God and enjoyed the favor of the people. And each day, the Lord added to their fellowship.

Read that again slowly.

This wasn’t a program. It wasn’t a strategy document from a church growth consultant. This was the organic overflow of lives that had genuinely encountered the living God. They were devoted. Awestruck. Generous. Joyful.

Notice what is missing. There is no mention of buildings. No professional staff. No Sunday-only Christianity. What you see instead is a community formed around three essential elements: devotion to God, fellowship with each other, and mission to the world.

These three elements are not optional extras. They are the blueprint. And when we miss any one of them, we become asymmetrical. Incomplete. Unbalanced.

The Pattern Heaven Already Established

Here is something fascinating that often gets overlooked. When God told Moses to build the tabernacle in Exodus 25, He gave a very specific instruction: “Build this tabernacle and its furnishings exactly according to the pattern I will show you.”

The Hebrew word for this sacred space comes from the same root as “kadesh,” meaning holy or set apart. God was not asking Moses to design something new. He was asking him to replicate on earth what already existed in heaven.

This is why the instruction was so precise. No deviation. No compromise. No shortcuts. No cutting corners. Build according to the blueprint.

Why? Because as Hebrews 8:5 tells us, the earthly sanctuary was always meant to be a copy and shadow of heavenly realities. The tabernacle was never just architecture. It was a visible demonstration of how God’s people were meant to live and minister before Him.

Jesus taught us this same principle in the prayer we recite so often we sometimes miss it: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is already in heaven.” We are not inventing something new. We are bringing heaven’s pattern to earth.

And within that ancient tabernacle, three pieces of furniture reveal the rhythm of kingdom living that we desperately need to recover: the altar, the table, and the lampstand.

The Altar: Where Everything Begins

The altar was the first thing you encountered. And the altar was a place of death.

Something has to die so that something else can live. This is not a comfortable truth for our self-help obsessed culture. We want growth without sacrifice. Blessing without surrender. Transformation without the cross.

But the early believers understood that there is no shortcut past the altar. They devoted themselves. Their hearts were bowed. Their lives were yielded. Their worship was not contained to moments; it was a continual posture of surrender.

What does it look like to live at the altar today?

It means protecting sacred space for prayer, fasting, and reflection. It means spending time with God each and every day, not because we have to check a box, but because we recognize how easily we drift without it. It means letting repentance and honesty become rhythms of renewal. It means getting real with God.

I have watched believers try to live on borrowed fire for years. They feed on sermons, podcasts, YouTube videos, and the latest Christian book. And while those things have their place, they cannot substitute for your own encounter at the altar. If that is your primary table, if that is your altar, you will starve.

The altar is the birthplace of transformation. Worship without surrender is not really worship. It is incomplete at best.

So practically, this means bringing your real life to God. Being honest. Confessing. Repenting. Saying, “Lord, this is happening in my life. Help me. I surrender.” Acknowledging when you have been stubborn, when you have pursued your own ways, whatever it may be. Calling it out. That is where the victory is. That is how we break through.

We need to get back to the altar in our prayer lives, in our families, as couples. Get in the Word. Get before God. Prioritise encounters with Him.

The Table: Where Fellowship Finds Its Meaning

After the altar comes the table. In the tabernacle, this was the table of showbread. But it represents something far deeper than religious furniture.

Here is what is crucial to understand: there can be no true fellowship with one another if we are not both in fellowship with God. Otherwise, it is just socializing.

The Greek word the early church used for fellowship was “koinonia.” This is not coffee and donuts after a service. Koinonia means shared participation in divine life. It is communion with God that overflows into communion with others.

This is why the table cannot exist without the altar. Where the altar burns, the table thrives. Where personal devotion is neglected, community becomes shallow.

At the table, we do not just socialize. We disciple one another. Our lounge rooms become places where we grow. Our coffee catch-ups become meeting places where mentoring happens. Did you know that the phrase “one another” appears over forty times in the New Testament? Love one another. Pray for one another. Encourage one another. Even rebuke one another.

Those commands will never be fulfilled if we just show up on a Sunday.

The table is a place of fellowship, formation, and belonging. It is family. No one is judged. No one is despised. No one is looked down upon. It is a place where people’s lives are transformed through the multi-giftedness of one another.

This means moving beyond guarding ourselves. Letting down our walls. Getting real with trusted brothers and sisters and saying, “Can you pray with me? I am struggling with this.”

We learn from one another. We grow at the table. Open homes, open hearts. We move from surface connection to shared life where grace, honesty, and generosity fill every table.

And here is what liberates us: this is not codependence. If someone does not show up on Sunday, we are not all over them about it. Why? Because we are not fostering a place of codependence. People need to work out their own walk with God. If you are struggling with something, if you are going through a difficult season, the first person and sometimes the only person you need to go to is Yahweh. Not your way. Yahweh. That would change everything.

The Lampstand: Carrying Light Into Darkness

The final element is the lampstand. In the tabernacle, it provided light for the holy place. In Revelation, Jesus identifies the lampstand as the church itself. And to the church in Ephesus, He issues a sobering warning: “I will remove your lampstand unless you repent.”

He was not threatening to shut down a building. He was warning about the loss of influence, witness, and testimony. The light that was meant to shine through that community would cease.

The lampstand represents the church as the vessel of God’s light. When Paul went to the Gentiles after being rejected by the synagogues, he quoted Isaiah 49: “God has called us to be a light to the nations.”

We are called to be light in the darkness, not to go into a holy huddle. Gathering together is essential; it is like a fuel station where we get encouraged, ministered to, and worship God together. But we need to move beyond what happens on a Sunday. We need to steward the oil so we can carry the light into every space we go.

The priests in the tabernacle had specific responsibilities regarding the lampstand. They had to trim the wick and make sure there was clear oil. That is our role too.

Trim the wick means removing distraction, compromise, and complacency. Keep your lamp filled through prayer, worship, and obedience.

The Rhythm That Never Ends

Here is what I need you to understand: this is not linear or sequential.

It is not like you spend time at the altar, get promoted to the table, and then graduate to the lampstand. This is a continual cycle of grace and growth.

There are seasons when the lampstand burns bright, when your witness is strong and your influence is wide. Guess what? At that very time, you need to be making sure you are entering into the secret place. You need to be going back to the altar.

You see this in Jesus Himself. He is reaching multitudes. Miracles are taking place everywhere. And what does He do? He withdraws. Luke 5:16 says He often withdrew to the wilderness. In a time of great fruitfulness and effectiveness, Jesus withdraws back to the altar. Back to the altar. Back to the altar.

If we do not have the altar and we are just trying to live off community, we will eventually burn out or become spiritually hollow.

The altar fuels devotion. The table sustains community. The lampstand advances mission. And all three continuously feed into and from each other.

Sometimes you are at the table, you get spurred on, and you end up advancing the kingdom. You have a good small group gathering, a meaningful coffee catch-up, and you get motivated to step out in mission. Other times, engagement in mission exposes your need and drives you back to the altar. It is all interconnected. :-)

Cultivating Sacred Spaces: A Practical Framework

So here is the invitation. Let us begin to cultivate these spaces. Altars in our homes. Tables of friendship and family. Lives that tend the flame of His presence daily.

But I know what you might be thinking. This sounds beautiful, Glenn. But how do I actually do this? Where do I start?

The beauty of this framework is that it works anywhere. Whether you are applying it to your personal walk with God, your household, a team you lead, a ministry you serve in, or any other sphere of influence, the same three elements apply. The expressions will differ, but the rhythm remains constant.

Here is how to begin.

Building the Altar: Creating Space for Encounter

The altar is about creating intentional, protected space where surrender and encounter with God can happen. Without it, everything else eventually runs dry.