Hebrews 12:18–21

Look at this wonderful contrast. On one side stand the people under the law, which so many untaught and unsteady Jews who professed the Lord Jesus were longing for. On the other side stand the Christian privileges the gospel gives to all who now believe. That is why the Epistle was written: to wean them away from an unbelieving return to the old covenant. The prophet, who predicts a new covenant of divine grace and blessing to come, calls that first one old and ready to vanish away. The passage sets out the sin, folly and danger of such unbelief in vivid terms.

The natural man cannot touch, hear or see the great realities we have come to in Christianity. Faith alone knows them. This must have been a special test for these Hebrew believers. They were used to a religious system where everything appealed to man in the flesh. Now they found themselves in something entirely new, which set aside everything that appeals to sight. They had to learn that the things of Judaism were only the shadows, and the unseen things of Christianity are the substance.

Merely touching the mountain meant death. Fire signified the burning holiness of God in judgment. Blackness and darkness show that there is no light at all in any merely legal position before God. The tempest points to a state of troubled unrest. The sound of the trumpet and the voice of words is the ringing declaration of truth without mercy. It planted awful fear in the hearts of those who heard. They could not endure what was commanded.

The law of God is and must be crushing to the proud claims of man as he is. Israel were sinners like everyone else, and to such people the law could only be a ministry of death and condemnation. If law is the ground of action, how could God acquit the guilty?… Most ominous of all was the charge given. Who among mankind could endure it, when even a beast touching the mountain was to be stoned? If that must be the fate of the unconscious animals, where shall the sinner appear? Yes, even the mediator of the law, honoured by God and familiar with His presence, could only say at that fearful sight: I tremble with fear.

The people withdraw to a great distance, but the effect is not to produce righteousness. Next we see them making an idol and dancing around the golden calf, with Sinai's awful summit only a little way off. The very nearness of that dreadful law hardened them. It did not appeal to their hearts. It did not reveal the love of God. It only made a claim on them that they could never fulfil.

It is a coming, not literally, but in spirit by faith, even if only in profession. Sinai was Israel's original standing, their proudest boast. What other nation could truly say that the living God appeared plainly to them when He gave His fiery law? He spoke it directly, and afterwards wrote it on tablets of stone with His own hand. But you, Christians, have come to the mountain of grace, not law.

There was a trumpet's sound, never heard before or since, growing louder and louder in its awful summons. And there was a voice of words that every soul could hear as God's. It was more terrifying than all the rest, in its majesty and in its deadly meaning for the conscience. So above everything else they begged to hear this voice no more. Let Moses hear for them instead.

The mountain burned with fire from the presence of God. With this came an awful darkness. Out of the darkness the sound of a trumpet summoned attention. And then came a Voice more dreadful than all, speaking distinct words, but not a gospel. For what was the effect on those who heard and saw? They could not touch the mountain, for even a beast that touched it had to be stoned. Their terror was so great that they begged to hear that word no more.

The words spoken carried the righteous demand of God to the ears of the people, but not one of them could listen to it. They set out nothing except what man ought to be. He owed God everything he was asked to pay. And there were signs of power to enforce that demand, or to carry out wrath where it was not met. The people could not bear to hear the full measure of their duties read out in their ears. They fled from the sound of the voice of God.

They fled away from God when He began to speak with His people as their Lawgiver and Judge (Ex. 20:18). They begged not to have to listen to a voice that seemed to speak of death and not of life. God spoke only in His natural tone. Angels, who had not sinned but kept their first place, were ready servants in setting out the glory of that covenant. Yet when He speaks from Sinai, His voice is fatal to the sinner. They did not know, until hard experience taught them, what those sights and sounds of terror really were. They belonged naturally to a covenant that shut out every knowledge of God except as the holy Avenger of His broken and dishonoured law.

At Sinai there was nothing but terror, and God meant it that way so that they might cry out for the Messiah, the Saviour. They never thought of Christ. In fact they cried out for Moses as the mediator between them and God. But God's mind was to give a far better mediator; and this was kept quite distinct from the law, its fears and its distance.

But we have not come to anything like this. We are not called to hear what we ought to be thundered into our ears out of the thick darkness and the devouring fire. There the lightnings flash in anger before our frightened eyes. They are ready to strike to the ground the unhappy creature who does not bring the full payment of his debt, down to the last penny. We have come to the hill of grace. We have come to the city bright with the glory of God, and to an order of things that speaks in our ears of the kindness and love of God.

The mountain was one that could be touched, and yet they were forbidden to approach it. Sinai was all on fire. Darkness, blackness, smoke and tempest covered its summit. It was a solemn, striking sight, tied to the giving of the law. God was speaking, and the people begged that they should not hear His voice again. They could not endure the command. The lawgiver himself said, "I exceedingly fear and quake." What a picture of what the law does! A holy and righteous God makes demands on man, and man cannot meet them. The people withdraw to a great distance, but the effect is not to produce righteousness. Soon they are making an idol and dancing round the golden calf, with Sinai's awful summit only a little way off.

Every detail leading up to the giving of the law showed the infinite majesty of God. It also pressed on sinful man that his natural place is far off from the Holy One. The "mount burned with fire." "Blackness, darkness, and tempest" covered its summit. The command not even to touch its edges was urgent in the extreme: "If so much as a beast touch the mountain, it shall be stoned, or thrust through with a dart" (Heb. 12:18-21). The offender was not only to die. His presumption counted as so gross that even those who killed him were not to handle him.

The law can only kill fallen man. Indeed, here we are told of the proclamation at Sinai: if so much as a beast touches the mountain it shall be stoned. Yet a beast, having neither guilt nor conscience, is incapable of moral responsibility to God. So if one beast devours another, no one thinks of murder in the case. But at Sinai God would mark that the law was full of the threat of death on every side. Sinful man under it stood in the worst case of all. Who can deny that he is more guilty than a beast? Fallen man has a conscience which constantly bears witness against him and his sins.

Note too that even a beast could not approach the mountain, and a beast is not a morally evil creature. No creature at all can come near the holy presence of God on the ground of its own merit — not even an unfallen creature, such as the angels of God. How much less man, who is sinful!

The Greek word thingano means 'to touch lightly.' … It occurs in Hebrews 11:28 and Colossians 2:21, and elsewhere only in Hebrews 12:20.

Such was the way Israel approached God when they were about to hear the law. Their own scriptures declare that this, and things like it, was the only way God appeared toward them — this was their feeling and their state before Him. Certainly this is not how those who confess the Lord Jesus approach God in the gospel. There we hear of the gift of His love in His only Son, given so that whoever believes may have eternal life. He is the One who suffered for our sins on the cross. … Suppose some of the Jews who confessed such a Saviour were growing weary and turning back to Judaism. Let them weigh what they give up in the gospel, and what they must return to under the law.

God's law is and must be crushing to what man claims to be. Israel were sinners like everyone else, and to such people the law could only be a ministry of death and condemnation. If law is the ground of action, how could God acquit the guilty? … The mountain blazed with fire, the symbol of God's destructive judgment. Adding to the horror, there was gloom and darkness and storm. Above them a trumpet sounded its alarm, and a voice of words more terrible still. Most ominous was the command given: who of mankind could endure it, when even if a beast touched the mountain it was to be stoned? If that must be the doom of unconscious animals, where should the sinner appear? Yes, even the mediator of the law was honoured by God and knew His presence well. Yet at that fearful sight he could only say, I exceedingly fear and tremble all over.

If we turn to Hebrews 12:21, we discover a detail which is not mentioned in Exodus. Exodus tells us that the people trembled, but that Moses, accompanied by Aaron, went up into the mountain. Hebrews tells us how he quaked as he did so.

The Lord put this momentous meeting with His people into the mediator's hands. Yet even he fell sick with dread when he discovered God's majesty in this unfamiliar form. Moses had spoken face to face with Him in other ways. To look on God had always been a fearful thing. He hid his face while listening to the words of mercy… But now deadly fear filled his heart, instead of reverent awe. He put his feelings into words. "I exceedingly fear and quake" was his admission. Those feelings showed that he shared the common distance man is driven back to, when justice and not mercy is the platform on which they meet.

They could not endure what God commanded. The lawgiver himself said, "I exceedingly fear and quake." What a picture of what the law does! A holy and righteous God makes demands on man — demands which man cannot meet.

The sweet voice of the gospel is so different from all this! By the grace of God "you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven … and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel" (Heb. 12:18-24). How wide the contrast drawn here! Law demands, terrifies, and repels. Divine grace attracts, gives freely, blesses, and makes its undeserving objects happy in God's own presence.

Do not be afraid. You have not come to the mountain that might be touched and that burned with fire. Turn your back on it. The more firmly I have turned my back on it, the more firmly I have met and answered the grace and wisdom of God, and given the obedience of faith. Am I to keep turning my head — looking over my shoulder — giving it glances? Is that the obedience of faith? … I was introduced by my own self-confidence to law and found nothing there for me. Now I have turned my face right round and I see everything for me.