Between Two Mountains

Spencer R. Fusselman D.Min

Stand on the fault line of a major seismic rupture, and it will strip away your illusions within seconds. Everything you assumed was permanent—the concrete beneath your boots, steel-reinforced skyscrapers, financial ledgers, political regimes—suddenly becomes vulnerable. The human chest tightens with primal terror because we instinctively understand how little control we possess when the very ground beneath us begins to move. Yet, as Pastor Steve walked us through the towering climax of Hebrews 12:18–29 this week, we were confronted with a reality far more sobering than shifting tectonic plates: the shaking of this world is not evidence that God has lost control. It is a reminder that He has never surrendered it.

Scripture tells us that God will shake heaven and earth, exposing the temporary nature of everything humanity is tempted to treat as permanent. The institutions we trust, the comforts we accumulate, the reputations we build, and the kingdoms we construct will not endure simply because we have invested our lives in them. God has promised to remove what can be shaken so that what cannot be shaken will remain. The question, therefore, is not whether the world around us will tremble. It is whether our lives are anchored to something that can withstand the shaking.

Hebrews 12 brings this question into sharp focus by contrasting two mountains: Mount Sinai, where God revealed His terrifying holiness under the old covenant, and Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem to which believers now have access through Jesus Christ. This is not merely a contrast between fear and comfort, nor between an angry God and a gracious one. It is a revelation of the same holy God, whose character has not changed, and the extraordinary access He has provided through the finished work of His Son.

Mount Sinai: The Terror of Untamed Holiness
To understand the magnitude of what we have received in Christ, we must first understand the mountain from which Israel recoiled. In Exodus 19–20, God descended upon Mount Sinai in fire, smoke, thunder, and the sound of an increasingly loud trumpet. The mountain trembled beneath His presence, and the people trembled with it. Boundaries were established around the mountain, and anyone who crossed them faced death. The message was unmistakable: sinful humanity cannot casually approach the holy presence of God on its own terms.

Hebrews 12:18–21 recalls this terrifying encounter, describing a scene so overwhelming that even Moses confessed, “I am exceedingly afraid and trembling” (Hebrews 12:21, NKJV). Israel begged that God would not speak directly to them, recognizing that they could not endure the immediate manifestation of His holiness. The law revealed God's righteous standard, but it could not transform the human heart into perfect obedience. It exposed sin, established accountability, and demonstrated humanity's need for something greater than its own efforts.

This is an essential distinction. The old covenant was not a mistake, nor was God's law evil. The law was given by God and revealed His righteousness, but it was never intended to be humanity's ultimate means of salvation. It could identify the disease without providing the final cure. It could expose our guilt without making us righteous before God. Even Moses, the mediator appointed to lead Israel, could not offer the final atonement necessary to reconcile sinners to their Creator.

The problem was never that God lacked holiness; the problem was that humanity lacked righteousness. The distance between the two could not be overcome through human determination, religious performance, or an increasingly disciplined attempt to keep the law. We needed a better Mediator, a better sacrifice, and a covenant capable of accomplishing what the old covenant's sacrifices could only anticipate.

That is why the contrast in Hebrews matters so deeply. The writer is addressing believers who were facing pressure and persecution, people who could be tempted to retreat toward the familiar structures of their former religious life. He reminds them that returning to the old system would mean turning away from the greater reality to which that system had pointed. They had received something immeasurably better in Christ, and they needed to endure in faith rather than surrender their eternal inheritance for temporary relief.

The warning remains relevant. We can become so attached to the visible structures of religion, the approval of others, or the illusion of personal control that we forget our need for the living God. We may try to negotiate with holiness, manage our guilt through good behavior, or convince ourselves that enough religious activity can compensate for a heart that has not been surrendered to Christ. But Sinai leaves no room for such illusions. God's standard is righteous, our sin is real, and reconciliation must come through His provision rather than our achievement.

Mount Zion: Access to the Same Holy God Through Christ
Hebrews 12:22 begins with a remarkable declaration: “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem” (NKJV). The writer does not tell believers that they have escaped the presence of a holy God. He tells them that, through Jesus, they have been brought into a new relationship with Him. The God whose presence made Mount Sinai tremble is the same God to whom believers now draw near through the blood of Christ.

The writer describes a heavenly assembly filled with innumerable angels, the church of the firstborn whose names are registered in heaven, God the Judge of all, the spirits of righteous people made perfect, Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and the blood of sprinkling that speaks better things than the blood of Abel. This is not a picture of casual familiarity with the Almighty. It is a picture of redeemed people welcomed into the presence of the King because their standing rests upon the finished work of the Son.

The blood of Abel cried out from the ground for justice after his murder. The blood of Jesus speaks something better: the forgiveness and reconciliation secured through His atoning sacrifice. Abel's blood testified to an injustice that demanded an answer; Christ's blood declares that the price of redemption has been paid. Under the old covenant, sacrifices had to be repeated, and the priestly system could not bring the work of atonement to its ultimate completion. Jesus, however, offered Himself once for all. His sacrifice is sufficient, His priesthood is enduring, and His mediation does not depend upon the strength or perfection of those He saves.

This is the astonishing privilege of the Christian life. We do not approach God because we have finally become impressive enough to deserve an audience. We approach Him because Jesus has opened the way. We stand before the Judge of all the earth with our hope resting not in our own record, but in the righteousness and blood of our Savior. Grace does not make God's holiness less serious; grace makes a way for guilty people to be reconciled to the holy God without compromising His justice.

And this access should never be confused with permission to become careless. The same passage that celebrates our welcome into Mount Zion warns us not to refuse the One who speaks. We have not been rescued from judgment so that we can live as though the King has no authority over us. We have been brought near so that we might worship, obey, and serve Him with a gratitude proportionate to the mercy we have received.
When the Earth Gives Way: The God Who Cannot Be Shaken
The writer then reaches back to the prophet Haggai, declaring, “Yet once more I shake not only the earth, but also heaven” (Hebrews 12:26, NKJV). God explains the purpose of this shaking in the next verse: the removal of things that can be shaken, as things that have been made, so that the things that cannot be shaken may remain.

God is not reacting helplessly to a world spinning beyond His control. He is sovereign over history, and even the upheavals that leave humanity bewildered cannot overthrow His purposes. The shaking exposes the limits of what is temporary. It reveals the weakness of the things in which we have placed our confidence and reminds us that the created order cannot provide the permanence our souls require.

This is where Psalm 46 speaks with extraordinary force. The sons of Korah wrote:
“God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
Though its waters roar and be troubled,
Though the mountains shake with its swelling.”
— Psalm 46:1–3, NKJV

Notice what the psalm does not promise. It does not promise that the earth will never shake, that the mountains will never move, or that God's people will never experience circumstances that overwhelm their natural strength. Instead, it declares that God remains our refuge even when the very foundations of our world appear to collapse. Biblical faith does not require us to pretend that the storm is harmless. It calls us to trust the One who remains sovereign in the middle of it.

An economic crisis, a political upheaval, cultural decay, personal loss, or a frightening medical diagnosis can reveal just how much of our peace depends upon circumstances remaining favorable. When the things we believed were secure begin to disappear, we discover whether our confidence rests in the living God or in the fragile arrangements of this life. The crisis may not have created our misplaced trust; it may simply have exposed it.

This does not mean every tragedy is a direct punishment or that we can always identify a specific divine purpose behind an individual hardship. Scripture does not authorize us to make such assumptions. It does, however, call us to examine our hearts, remember God's sovereignty, and refuse to make temporary things the foundation of our ultimate hope.

The Christian's confidence is not that nothing painful will happen. It is that nothing can overthrow the eternal purposes of God or separate those who belong to Christ from the hope secured in Him. The world may shake, governments may fall, wealth may vanish, and human strength may fail, but the character of God does not change. His promises do not expire with the passing of an age. His Kingdom does not depend upon the stability of the kingdoms around it.

Peter develops the same truth in 2 Peter 3, where he describes the coming day of the Lord and the passing away of the present heavens and earth. His conclusion is not that believers should surrender to despair, but that they should live in holiness and godliness as they look forward to God's promised new creation. The certainty of coming judgment is meant to reshape the way we live now. If the things of this world are temporary, then we must stop treating them as though they were eternal.

The shaking, then, forces a question upon every generation: What will remain when everything that can be shaken has been removed?

The Kingdoms We Build and the Kingdom We Receive
Hebrews 12:27 explains the purpose of the shaking: the removal of things that can be shaken so that what cannot be shaken may remain. The writer then draws the practical conclusion: “Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear” (Hebrews 12:28, NKJV).

That word therefore matters. The promise of an unshakable Kingdom is not offered merely to make us feel secure about the future. It establishes how we are to live in the present. Because we belong to a Kingdom that cannot be destroyed, we must stop organizing our lives around the desperate pursuit of kingdoms that can.

Human beings are builders by nature. We build careers, reputations, financial security, organizations, and legacies. These things are not inherently wrong. Work can honor God, financial stewardship can serve our families, and leadership can be a means of loving our neighbors. The danger begins when the gifts become our gods, when the temporary becomes ultimate, and when protecting our own interests takes precedence over obedience to the King.

We can spend our lives constructing a personal kingdom in which our comfort is the priority, our reputation is carefully defended, and our preferences become the standard by which everything is judged. We may even use religious language while quietly expecting God to bless the empire we are building for ourselves. But the Kingdom of God is not an extension of our personal ambitions. We do not recruit Christ to serve our purposes; we surrender ourselves to serve His.

Jesus makes the issue plain in Matthew 6:33: “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you” (NKJV). The command is not to seek our own security first and invite God into the arrangement when convenient. We are to seek His Kingdom and His righteousness first, trusting Him with the things that would otherwise consume our attention and govern our decisions.

Scripture repeatedly reminds us that every person serves something. Romans 6 describes the reality of being enslaved either to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness. We may insist that we are independent, but our lives reveal what actually commands us. Our habits, priorities, sacrifices, and choices testify to the authority we have accepted. The question is not whether we will serve, but whom we will serve.

This is why Hebrews connects receiving the Kingdom with serving God acceptably. Grace is not merely the means by which we are rescued from judgment; it also establishes the posture in which we live before our Redeemer. We do not obey to purchase our salvation, but neither can we claim to treasure the King while treating His commands as optional. Genuine gratitude produces a life increasingly shaped by the One who saved us.

The passage concludes with a warning that should sober every believer: “For our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29, NKJV). The writer has not abandoned the holiness revealed at Sinai. He has shown us how sinners can approach that holiness through Jesus Christ, and he now reminds us that grace must never become an excuse for irreverence. We have received an unshakable Kingdom, but the King remains holy. Our response must therefore be worship marked by gratitude, reverence, godly fear, and obedience.

What Kingdom Are You Serving?
The writer of Hebrews does not leave us with the shaking of the earth as his final image. He leaves us with a Kingdom that cannot be shaken and a King who deserves our worship. The contrast between Sinai and Zion brings us face-to-face with both the seriousness of God's holiness and the immeasurable grace He has extended through Jesus Christ. We have no reason to boast in ourselves, but we have every reason to stand firm in the Savior who has made reconciliation possible.

The same truth that comforts us also confronts us. If our hope rests in Christ, then we can endure the loss of temporary things without losing the foundation of our faith. If our identity rests in the Kingdom of God, then we no longer need to sacrifice obedience to protect our reputation or compromise our convictions to preserve our comfort. And if we truly understand the grace we have received, we will not treat the King as an accessory to our ambitions. We will offer Him our lives in reverent, grateful service.

Revelation 20:4–6 points toward the future reign of Christ and the hope of those who belong to Him. The Christian story does not end with the collapse of human kingdoms or the destruction of everything we once considered secure. It points beyond the present age to God's final victory and the fulfillment of His purposes. That future is not an excuse to disengage from the present; it is the reason to live faithfully in it.

So when the ground beneath your feet begins to tremble, remember that the shaking does not mean the throne of God is shaking with it. When the structures you trusted begin to fail, do not confuse their instability with His. And when the world offers you temporary relief in exchange for eternal priorities, remember Esau, remember the blood of Christ, and remember the Kingdom you have received.

The question is not whether you are building something. Every day, through your choices and commitments, you are investing your life in something. The question is whether that investment belongs to a kingdom that will pass away or to the Kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Are you anchored to Christ, standing on the solid Rock, and living for the city whose builder and maker is God?  There is no middle ground. We will be a slave to something. Why not the Lord of heaven’s armies?

The message of Hebrews 12 is not meant to remain an impressive theological idea. It is meant to shape our conduct when we leave the sanctuary and return to the pressures of ordinary life. If we truly believe that we are receiving an unshakable Kingdom, then our priorities should begin to reflect that conviction.

1. Audit your anchors. Take an honest look at what most determines your peace. Is it your bank balance, your reputation, your plans, your political preferences, or the approval of others? These things may matter in their proper place, but none can carry the weight of your soul. Psalm 46 calls God our refuge and strength, while Hebrews 6:19 describes hope as “an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast” (NKJV). Identify one temporary source of security that has begun to dominate your thinking, and deliberately bring that concern before God in prayer. Do your responsibilities faithfully, but place your ultimate confidence in the One who remains when everything else gives way.

2. Enter the throne room before you enter the battlefield. Too often, we charge into conflict, pressure, and decision-making relying on our own judgment before we have sought the wisdom and grace of God. Hebrews 4:16 invites us to “come boldly to the throne of grace” (NKJV), while Hebrews 12 reminds us that Jesus is the Mediator through whom we have access to the Father. Before a difficult conversation, a demanding workday, a family conflict, or a major decision, stop and pray. Come with confidence because Christ has opened the way, but come with humility because you are approaching the holy God. Ask not only for help with your plans, but for the wisdom to recognize when your plans need to change.

3. Refuse to exchange your birthright for a bowl of soup. Hebrews 12:16–17 uses Esau as a warning against trading an enduring inheritance for immediate gratification. Esau's hunger was real, but he treated his birthright as though it were worth less than a temporary meal. We make similar exchanges whenever we sacrifice integrity for advancement, purity for pleasure, obedience for acceptance, or eternal priorities for temporary comfort. Matthew 6:33 calls us to seek God's Kingdom first. This week, identify one temptation that promises immediate satisfaction at the expense of faithfulness. Refuse the exchange. The momentary relief may feel valuable, but it cannot compare with the lasting worth of walking faithfully with God.

4. Serve the King instead of building your own kingdom. Examine how you use your time, abilities, influence, and resources. Are they primarily directed toward preserving your own comfort and image, or are they being offered to God for His purposes? Romans 12:1 calls believers to present their bodies as a living sacrifice, and Matthew 6:19–21 warns against storing up treasures on earth while neglecting the treasures that endure before God. Choose one concrete act of service this week that costs you something: give time to someone who cannot repay you, help carry a burden that is not your own, encourage a struggling believer, or fulfill a responsibility you have been avoiding. Do it faithfully, not for recognition, but because your life belongs to the King.

5. Train for endurance, not merely comfort. Hebrews 12 begins by calling believers to run with endurance the race set before them, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of their faith. Endurance is not an accidental quality that appears only when circumstances become difficult. It is cultivated through sustained faith, obedience, repentance, and dependence upon Christ. When hardship comes, resist the impulse to interpret discomfort as proof that you are on the wrong path. Ask instead whether you are being called to persevere faithfully, seek wise counsel, correct a sinful course, or trust God through uncertainty. Hebrews 12:28–29 reminds us that we serve an unshakable Kingdom under a holy King. Let that truth train you to remain faithful when the easier path would be compromise.