A Tale of Two Mountains

Have you ever noticed how many mountains appear in the Bible? Jason and I have spent many days hiking through the Welsh countryside, puffing up hillsides with our little dog Tess, and I can't help but think about those biblical peaks. Two mountains in particular stand out in Scripture: Sinai and Zion. And they couldn't be more different from each other.

On the whole, Mount Sinai was a place of terror. Smoke billowing into the sky, the ground quaking beneath your feet, and trumpets blasting so loudly that you cover your ears. The Israelites were told not to even touch the mountain lest they die! Moses alone could approach, and even he trembled with fear.

"And so terrible was the sight, that Moses said, I exceedingly fear and quake." (Hebrews 12:21)

Imagine standing there as one of those Israelites. The atmosphere was thick with divine authority. God was establishing His covenant, giving the law, and setting boundaries. The message was clear: I am holy, and you are not. Keep your distance.

It reminds me of the various times we've visited a historic church or chapel in Wales. The vaulted ceilings, stern-faced saints in stained glass, and imposing architecture all seem designed to make us feel small and unworthy. I whisper when I speak and tiptoe when I walk. I always feel like an intruder rather than an invited guest.

This is Mount Sinai spirituality. It's the practice of relating to God through rigid rules and fearful reverence. Many Christians still camp at Sinai's base, viewing God as a distant lawgiver ready to strike at the slightest misstep.

But there's another mountain that tells a different story.

Mount Zion represents God's invitation to intimacy. Here, we don't cower in fear but come boldly. We don't hear threats of death but promises of life. While Sinai says "Stay back," Zion says "Draw near."

"But ye are come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, To the general assembly and church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect." (Hebrews 12:22-23)

What a contrast! Instead of isolation, we have community. Instead of fear, we have celebration. Instead of distance, we have nearness.

This is the Christianity I long to live in daily, not cowering before a distant deity but embracing a loving Father.

When I sit to pray each morning, I sometimes catch myself approaching God with Sinai-thinking. I focus on my unworthiness, my failures, and my distance from perfection. But then I remember that Jesus has invited me to Zion.

The difference between these mountains is the difference between religion and relationship. One says "Perform to be accepted," while the other says "You're accepted, so perform." One produces slaves to rules; the other creates children who serve from love.

Yes, God is holy and deserves our respect and reverence. But He is also a personal God who wants us to know Him as a dear Friend, loving Father, wise Counsellor, faithful Comforter, and so much more. Fearing God is all well and good, but knowing God intimately is far better.

Where are you camping today, friend? At the foot of Sinai, trembling in fear? Or on Mount Zion, embraced in grace? The invitation to move from one mountain to the other stands open, thanks to Jesus, who bridged the gap between God's holiness and our humanity.

The mountain you choose will determine how you view God, yourself, and your faith journey. Choose Zion. It's where home is.

(Footnote: This devotion was born from my personal Bible study time and a discussion Jason and I had about it afterward. We were both so intrigued by the idea that we wanted to share it with others. I am writing about it today, and he will be preaching about it soon. So, for those of you who may wonder if I stole his material or if he stole mine, please know it was a joint effort. God planted an idea, and Jason and I both explored and expressed our thoughts on it through discussion. In the end, we each walked away with a message on our hearts to share with the world. No stealing involved, just sharing!)

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The Flush of Perseverance