You Have Come to Mount Zion | Hebrews 12:18-24

For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But 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 God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

Hebrews 12:18-24 ESV

With the author’s metaphorical portrait of the Christian life as running a marathon immediately behind us, we move into the closing section of Hebrews 12, which we will cover over the next two weeks. Of these closing verses, Robert Paul Martin writes:

At this point in his letter, the writer brings all that he has said in the preceding chapters to bear on the consciences of his readers. Here he issues a climactic warning which reaches back to the first verse of Hebrews and which has woven into its fabric all that he has said from that point onward. Owen calls this section “a recapitulation of the whole.”[1]

Indeed, the continuous presentation of Jesus as being far superior to every element of the old covenant hits its peak here with this powerful contrast between the two covenants and the mountains that represent them, Sinai and Zion.

THE TERROR OF MOUNT SINAI // VERSES 18-21

Although the author never says the name Sinai in verses 18-21, he doesn’t really need to. Just listen to the description:

For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.”

Having studied Exodus 19 earlier this year, we should immediately recall the scene of Sinai as God prepared the people of Israel to hear His law. For three days, Moses prepared Israel for the descent of Yahweh upon the mountain, making themselves ritually clean before encountering the presence of the Holy One.

And He did descend.

The fire, darkness, lightening, and trumpets were all manifestations of God’s glory as He came down upon the mountain to meet with His people. They beheld His glory, and they heard Him audibly speak. The Ten Commandments were spoken by God in the hearing of all His people and then written on tablets of stone by His own hand.

But, as the author notes, rather than being a moment of inspiration and joy, it was a time of great and awesome terror. Indeed, after audibly hearing God speak the Ten Commandments, Exodus 20:18-21:

Now when all the people saw the thunder and the flashes of lightning and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking, the people were afraid and trembled, and they stood far off and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, lest we die.” Moses said to the people, “Do not fear, for God has come to test you, that the fear of him may be before you, that you may not sin.” The people stood far off, while Moses drew near to the thick darkness where God was.

Of course, even though Moses drew near and spoke to God within the cloud of God’s glory, the man of God was not immune to fear, trembling in the presence of God just like the rest of the Israelites.

Yet for all the marvelous descriptions here, I want to narrow in on two that appear, at first, to be contradictory. First, the author calls Sinai a mountain that may be touched, but he then goes on to note that anyone or anything that touched it would be put to death. Which is it? Could Sinai be touched or not?

Both are true. In verse 18, the author is making the point that Sinai was a physical, tangible mountain. Any Israelite, or even one of their animals, could have reached out and touched it. And Yahweh really did descend upon that mountain. It really was clothed in darkness, lightening, and fire, and He really did speak for all of Israel to hear. The events of that day were just as material as the temple and sacrifices that were still happening in Jerusalem in the day of letter’s original audience. Indeed, the visible and physical sacrifices were likely still temptingly comforting the author’s congregation.

Yet the tangibility of Sinai did not benefit the Israelites at all, for what good was touching the mountain only to be stoned to death as a result. God did indeed come down to meet His people, and He did command them to draw near to Him. However, they could not come too close, nor could they draw too near, lest they die. That is why we called it a come-but-stay-away covenant. And that truth applied to the temple as well. As comfortable, familiar, and politically safe as the sacrificial system seemed, it held only death. Before Christ, it was a gracious foretaste of God’s great plan of redemption, but after Jesus’ once for all sacrifice, only a corpse remained. What good is the shadow whenever the substance had come?

THE GLORY OF MOUNT ZION // VERSES 22-24

With the terror of Sinai freshly in our minds, the author now shifts focus his upon another mountain, saying,

But 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 God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

If you recall our study of 1:1-3 at the very beginning of our time in Hebrews, the author began this sermon-letter with a seven-fold description of Jesus as the Son of God. While the world around us has a multitude of ideas about who Jesus is (great ethical teacher, political revolutionary, etc.), here is how Hebrews oriented us into thinking about Jesus:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high

That is who Jesus is. It is a beacon of light in the darkness for all who have eyes of faith to see. The author is now doing something similar in our present passage. Just as he gave us that seven-fold revelation of who Jesus is, now he presents to us a seven-fold description of the new covenant that we have entered by faith in Christ. Indeed, you will notice that none of these are things that can be touched (yet); instead, they are spiritual realities that can only be seen by faith. Thus, the Holy Spirit through the human author is unveiling these glories to us.

As I said with 1:2-3, I say again here: Though each of these descriptions could be the subject of whole libraries of books, let us consider them briefly and together in order to have them as the glimpse of the glory and grandeur that Jesus as the Captain of our salvation is bring us with Him into.

First, we have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. This is all one item on the list. Particularly, in the Psalms, Zion is used as synonym for Jerusalem because Mount Zion is one of the hills upon which the city of Jerusalem was built. The significance of saying that we have now come to Mount Zion is that the author is presenting it in direct contrast with Mount Sinai. The mountain that represents the new covenant is far greater than the one of the old covenant. Yet if you survey the usage of Zion within the Psalms, you will quickly find that Zion as a mountain is only important because it holds Jerusalem, the only city on earth with a temple to the true and living God. The Songs of Ascents (Psalms 120-134) are a great example of this, since that particular collection of psalms were sung by God’s people as they made their yearly pilgrimage to Jerusalem to celebrate the feasts and festivals. Note especially Psalms 122 and 132.

But notice that we have not come simply to Jerusalem and its now defunct temple. Instead, we have come to the heavenly Jerusalem. As we have seen so frequently in Hebrews, we again find the truth that the earthly Jerusalem with its temple was only a copy and a shadow of a far greater city still to come. Recall that Abraham and the rest of patriarchs were all “looking forward to a city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (11:10). And the author said of all in Hebrews 11 that they desired “a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (11:16). What they were seeking by faith, we now behold by faith and belong to by faith, for our ultimate citizenship now resides in this heavenly Jerusalem. That is why Paul gives this exhortation and warning in Philippians 3:17-21:

Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.

Second, in coming to Mount Zion, we also come to innumerable angels in festal gathering. This is the author’s first mention of angels since his great display of Christ’s superiority to the angels back in chapter 1. In that chapter, the author labored (with seven Old Testament citations, no less) to show that Jesus is better than the angels because the covenant at Sinai was a “message declared by angels” (2:2). Thus, the old covenant was not only the mediation of Moses but also of the angels. And if the people could not look upon the radiance of Moses’ face after he descended from Sinai’s peak, how much more could they stand in the presence of angels who dwell at all times in the holy presence of Yahweh? Indeed, the encounters that people have with angels affirms that rhetorical question, for the angels almost always needed to begin by commanding the person who is receiving their message not to be afraid.

But while all through the Old Testament the angels are a perpetual sign of how distant we are from God, since He cannot communicate with us directly and we cannot even stand in the presence of fellow created beings who are simply awash in God’s presence, under the new covenant in Christ, angels are our fellow worshipers. Importantly, the word translated here for festal gathering would have been used by the pagans to refer to the feasts and festivals to their own gods, but it is also often used in the Septuagint to refer to the annual feasts and festivals that God commanded to be celebrated in Jerusalem each year. Yet notice that it is singular, not plural. This is not a perpetual series of festal gatherings but one ultimate festal gathering that all of the Old Testament feasts and festivals were pointing towards and that even the pagans were displaying their inward design for such worship. And this great feast of worship is not mediated to us by the angels; rather, we now join them as fellow worshipers.

Third, we have also come to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven. The word assembly here is also the word for church. Thus, we could also say that we have come to the church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven. This is not, I believe, referring to all the saints who are presently in heaven (that will be the fifth description); instead, this is the holy, catholic or universal church. This is not everyone who is presently in heaven but all who are enrolled in heaven. This is the church of everyone whose name is written in book of life (Revelation 20:12). Indeed, those who are not enrolled in heaven have a very different lot: “And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire” (Revelation 20:15). But those who are enrolled in heaven are those who run their earthly race with endurance, and as those who conquer, God Himself will be their heritage (Revelation 21:7).

Indeed, it is important that we are called the church of the firstborn. Under the old covenant, the firstborn received the greatest blessing, and it was the firstborn of Israel that God consecrated to Himself. Here the author is calling us a church of firstborns, which is a way of saying that everyone gets the best portions of the inheritance. Such is only possible if the inheritance is infinite and, therefore, suffers no lack regardless of how many times it is divided and distributed. Thankfully, we do indeed have an infinite inheritance. As Psalm 16:5-6 says, “The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.” It is a beautiful inheritance because Yahweh Himself is our portion and our heritage. And He alone can give Himself fully to each us without ever being diminished. Of course, as next week’s section will also address, this ought to make the warning of Esau despising his birthright all the more terrifying.

Fourth, we have come to God, the judge of all. This is at once both the greatest joy and the greatest terror. The new covenant brings us to nothing less than God Himself, and I do not think it is accidental that this is the central description within this passage. The whole grand story of the Bible is about how God made us for Himself, how we rejected that communion with Him, and how He is bringing us back to Himself and making all things new through His Son. To make certain that we understand the stakes of this reunion, the author simply calls God the judge of all. Let the full passage of Revelation 20:11-15 be in our minds as we hear this:

Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. From his presence earth and sky fled away, and no place was found for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done. And the sea gave up the dead who were in it, Death and Hades gave up the dead who were in them, and they were judged, each one of them, according to what they had done. Then Death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, the lake of fire. And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.

Even the sea and Death and Hades cannot hide anyone from the all-seeing judgment of the Creator Almighty. Yet we can rejoice in our coming to the Judge of all the earth because we already know the judgment that He has pronounced upon us, which we will see more fully in the final three descriptions.

Fifth, we have come to the spirits of the righteous made perfect. This is not a description of the universal church… yet. This is the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us who are still running our earthly race. Notice the slight tension of this description. Clearly, humans are in view here because angels do not need to be made perfect, and the fallen angels cannot be made perfect. However, these redeemed and perfected people are spirits, that is, they have not yet received their resurrected bodies. That tension represents the whole of this passage as well. All of this can be described as already-but-not-yet.

Sixth, we have come to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant. Calling Jesus the mediator of a new covenant ought to bring the great exposition of Christ’s priestly work in chapters 7-10 back into our minds. But, of course, that is also the grand theme of this whole sermon-letter. We do not hear from God’s thundering voice at Sinai because we have inerrant testimony of God’s own Son who has perfectly revealed God’s nature to us by becoming one of us. We do not gather for worship in Jerusalem because we belong to the true Jerusalem, the heavenly city, and each Lord’s Day God’s people gather in congregations around the world in anticipation for the day when we will all be gathered as one great congregation around the visible and tangible throne of Jesus.

Indeed, the new covenant does not command us to come but also stay away. That was the motto of the old covenant. Through the tabernacle and then the temple, God was graciously in the midst of His people, yet none could enter His presence except for the high priest once every year, even then only through buckets of blood. But through Jesus, who is Himself God, we have full access into the presence of the God who has now adopted us a His children. Indeed, under this new covenant, He now commands us to draw near to Himself (4:16, 10:22). And as Hebrews has continuously noted, Jesus has both mediated and guaranteed this new covenant through His better sacrifice, which takes us to the seventh description.

Finally, we have come to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. Recall the story of Cain and Abel from Genesis 4, which the author already presented in 11:4. After Abel was murdered by his older brother, God interrogated Cain in the same way that He interrogated Adam after the Fall. When Cain refused to acknowledge his sin, God said to him, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground” (Genesis 4:10). The implication, of course, is that Abel’s blood was crying out for justice to be served, for retribution to be exacted, for Cain to be punished. How then does Jesus’ blood speak a better word than Abel’s blood?

I believe that the author wants us to note the parallels between Jesus and Abel first. Remember that 2:11 said that Jesus calls us His brothers, yet like Cain with Abel, it was our sin that caused His death. For rightly do we sing, “Behold the man upon the cross, my sin upon His shoulders. Ashamed I hear my mocking voice call among the scoffers. It was my sin that held Him there until it was accomplished.” Yet even though it was for our sin that Jesus was put to death, His blood does not cry out for justice and for vengeance; rather, His blood satisfied the wrathful justice of God against our sin. Indeed, like the blood of Abel, the blood of the animal sacrifices under the old covenant could not remove sin and so served as a continuous reminder of sin’s deadly end. Jesus’ blood, however, purifies “our consciences from dead works to serve the living God” (9:14), for though the sprinkling of His blood Christ “put away sin by the sacrifice of himself” (9:26). Indeed, this is how we are able to take joy in coming to God, the judge of all. His judgment upon our sins has already been dealt out. The punishment for our sins has already been exacted. The cup of God’s righteous wrath has already been drank to the last drop. But it was Christ who took that judgment in our place.

Commentator John Brown writes:

Abel’s blood cried for vengeance—for the infliction of punishment on the murderer; but the blood of Christ proclaims peace and salvation. The voice of Abel’s blood drove Cain away from God; but the voice of Jesus’ blood invites us, and, when sprinkled on the conscience, constrains us, to come near… Such is the contrast between the former and the latter dispensation. There, all is awful, terrible, and threatening; here, all is gracious, alluring, and animating. What folly to adhere to the former! What absolute madness to renounce the latter! It is impossible to conceive a more appropriate conclusion to the exhortation to perseverance than this comparative view, and the awfully impressive exhortations with which it is followed.[2]

Indeed, if the old covenant, which was actually spoken and given by God, is that much inferior to this new covenant, how much more the various hopes of salvation that the world proposes?

We should conclude by noting that this seven-fold description is all a present reality for God’s people. But you have come… We are not waiting for all this to come to pass. This is the inheritance that the Christian comes into through the blood of Christ.

But if that is the case, how are we to make sense of 13:14: “For here we have not lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.” Which is it? Have we already come to the heavenly Jerusalem, or is it still to come?

The answer, of course, is yes. It is a present spiritual reality, but it will also one day be a visible reality. Again, it is already but also not yet. We see this in our praying for God’s kingdom to come, yet in next week’s text, we find that we have received that unshakeable kingdom (12:28). It is both already here and still coming.

And this tension is not unique to Hebrews. In Ephesians, Paul repeatedly sets our minds upon the spiritual blessings that we have in Christ, even going so far as to say that God has “raised us up with [Christ] and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:6). Again, that is a current reality for all who are in Christ. Yet he also says that we live in an evil day (5:16, 6:13), where both we are embattled by our own flesh within us and by the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly places.

Just as the author began this sermon-letter by giving us a glorious vision of Christ, so too is he giving us this majestic vision of the Christian life so that we may endure our own crosses as we follow after our Lord, looking to Him and to the joy that He Himself has set before us. This spiritual vision is what gives us the confidence to “not be of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls” (10:39).

Indeed, a proper vision of the spiritual enables us to understand the purpose behind why we gather at all on the Lord’s Day or why come to the Lord’s Supper. If the point is to hear a wonderful sermon, there are plenty of better ones to find online. If the point to have an emotionally stimulating time of worship, that too can be achieved in the car with Spotify. If the point of the Lord’s Supper was to have an actual meal, one cracker and a sip of juice would be pretty disappointing.

But the point of these things runs deeper than the physical act itself. We gather together to physically display our faith that we belong to the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven. We come to physically hear God’s Word to display our faith that God is still speaking to us through His Son by the Scriptures. We come to physically lift our voices in song to display our faith that in Christ we are worshiping alongside the angels and the saints whose race is complete. And we come to the physical bread and cup of the Lord’s Supper as a tangible display of Christ’s atoning blood that has satisfied the judgment of God and now cries out for us to receive grace, mercy, and love from the Judge of all, who is now also our Father.


[1] Robert Paul Martin, Hebrews, 659.

[2] John Brown, Hebrews, 655-656.

Leave a comment