The Terrible Glory and the Necessary Man Text: Exodus 20:18-21
Introduction: The Unapproachable Fire
We live in a sentimental age. Our generation wants a god who is manageable, a deity who fits comfortably in our back pocket next to the car keys and loose change. We want a god who is more like a cosmic therapist, endlessly affirming and never, ever frightening. We want a teddy bear god. But the God of the Bible, the God who is, is not a teddy bear. He is a consuming fire. And when He descends to meet with His people, the people discover that they cannot bear it.
The scene at the foot of Sinai is one of the most foundational events in all of Scripture. God has just spoken the Ten Words, the very constitution of reality, directly into the ears of the Israelites. This was not a quiet whisper in a seminary library. This was an auditory and visual cataclysm. The universe was shaking. The mountain was on fire. There was thunder, lightning, smoke, and the blast of a supernatural trumpet that grew louder and louder. And God spoke.
Modern evangelicals have a tendency to flatten this event. We treat the Ten Commandments like a simple moral checklist, something to be memorized by schoolchildren. But we must understand the packaging. The law was delivered in a context of overwhelming, terrifying glory. Why? Because the law reveals the character of the Lawgiver. And the character of God is holy, holy, holy. It is utterly alien to our fallen sensibilities. Direct, unmediated contact with this God is lethal to sinners. And at the foot of the mountain, Israel learned this lesson in their bones.
This passage is not just a historical report of a frightened people. It is a paradigm for all of humanity. It reveals our fundamental problem: we are sinners, and God is holy. And it reveals the only solution: we need a mediator. We need someone who can stand in the gap, who can draw near to the thick darkness where God is, while we must stand far off. The terror of Sinai was designed by God to produce a right and holy fear, and to drive the people to the one who could represent them before the unapproachable fire.
The Text
And all the people perceived the thunder and the lightning flashes and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking; and the people perceived it, and they shook and stood at a distance. Then they said to Moses, "Speak to us yourself, and we will listen; but let not God speak to us, lest we die." And Moses said to the people, "Do not be afraid; for God has come in order to test you, and in order that the fear of Him may be with you, so that you may not sin." So the people stood at a distance, but Moses came near the dense gloom where God was.
(Exodus 20:18-21 LSB)
Sensory Overload and a Sane Reaction (v. 18)
We begin with the people’s reaction to the divine manifestation:
"And all the people perceived the thunder and the lightning flashes and the sound of the trumpet and the mountain smoking; and the people perceived it, and they shook and stood at a distance." (Exodus 20:18)
The text emphasizes that "all the people perceived." This was not a private vision for Moses. This was a corporate, public, undeniable event. They saw the lightning and the smoke. They heard the thunder and the trumpet. The Hebrew word for "perceived" here is simply the verb "to see," but it carries the weight of full sensory experience. They were engulfed by it. This was reality, raw and unfiltered.
And what was their reaction? "They shook and stood at a distance." This is not an irrational panic. This is the only sane reaction for a sinful creature in the presence of a holy God. They trembled. They recoiled. They understood instinctively that to get any closer was to be annihilated. The holiness of God is a radioactive glory, and without the proper shielding, it is death. This is the same reaction Isaiah had in the temple when he saw the Lord high and lifted up and cried, "Woe is me! For I am lost" (Isaiah 6:5). It is the same reaction Peter had in the boat when he recognized Jesus' divinity and said, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord" (Luke 5:8).
This terror is a grace. God is teaching them the truth about themselves and about Him. He is dismantling any casual, chummy thoughts they might have had about the God who brought them out of Egypt. He is showing them the infinite qualitative distinction between Creator and creature. Before you can appreciate grace, you must first appreciate the glory that makes grace necessary. Before you can run to a savior, you must know what you need saving from. They needed saving from the very presence of the one who was saving them.
The Plea for a Mediator (v. 19)
Their terror immediately gives way to a theological conclusion, and a desperate plea.
"Then they said to Moses, 'Speak to us yourself, and we will listen; but let not God speak to us, lest we die.'" (Exodus 20:19 LSB)
Notice their logic. It is impeccable. Direct communication from God equals death. Therefore, we need a go-between. We need a man who can hear from God and relay the message. This is the birth of the prophetic office. In their terror, they cry out for a mediator.
And in this, they are speaking better than they know. They are voicing the deepest need of the human heart. We cannot stand before God on our own. The unshielded voice of God would obliterate us. We need someone to stand in the breach. The author of Hebrews makes this point explicitly when he contrasts the terror of Sinai with the grace of Mount Zion. He says we have not come to a mountain that can be touched, to 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 (Hebrews 12:18-19). That was the old covenant experience, and it was designed to make us long for the new.
The people say to Moses, "Speak to us yourself, and we will listen." They are desperate for a human interface. But their plea points far beyond Moses. Moses was a faithful mediator, but he was a sinful man himself. He was a placeholder, a type, a signpost pointing to the true and final Mediator. As Deuteronomy 18 says, God would raise up for them a prophet like Moses from among their brothers, and to Him they must listen. That prophet is the Lord Jesus Christ, the one who is both God and man. He is the one who can hear the unfiltered voice of the Father and translate it into words we can bear. He is the Word made flesh, the perfect go-between.
Fear that Cures Fear (v. 20)
Moses’ response to the people is a masterful piece of pastoral theology. He corrects and clarifies the nature of their fear.
"And Moses said to the people, 'Do not be afraid; for God has come in order to test you, and in order that the fear of Him may be with you, so that you may not sin.'" (Exodus 20:20 LSB)
This sounds like a contradiction, but it is the heart of the matter. "Do not be afraid... so that the fear of Him may be with you." Moses is distinguishing between two kinds of fear. The first is a slavish, cowering terror that drives you away from God in despair. This is the fear of the guilty convict before the judge. This is the fear that Adam and Eve had in the garden when they hid themselves. Moses says, "Do not have that kind of fear." That fear leads to death and paralysis.
But there is another kind of fear. This is the filial fear of a son for a loving, powerful father. It is a profound reverence, an awe-filled respect, a deep awareness of His holy character and righteous authority. This is the fear that is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10). This fear does not drive you away from God; it drives you away from sin. Moses says this is precisely why God has manifested His glory in this terrifying way: "in order that the fear of Him may be with you, so that you may not sin."
God is testing them. He is revealing His awesome holiness to inoculate them against the cheap, tawdry temptations of the world. The memory of the smoking mountain was meant to be a permanent fixture in their hearts. When they were later tempted to bow down to a golden calf or some Canaanite idol, they were supposed to remember the thunder and the fire and think, "I will not trade this glorious, terrible God for that pathetic piece of metal." A right fear of God is the ultimate cure for the fear of man and the allure of sin. When you fear God properly, you fear nothing and no one else. The purpose of the terror was to instill the truth, and the truth, rightly feared, sets you free from sin.
The Mediator Draws Near (v. 21)
The scene concludes with a stark and beautiful contrast, a living diagram of the gospel.
"So the people stood at a distance, but Moses came near the dense gloom where God was." (Exodus 20:21 LSB)
Here is the picture of our condition and our only hope. The people, representing all of us, stand far off. They cannot approach. The barrier of sin and their creaturely status keeps them at a safe distance. There is a great gulf fixed.
But one man does not stand off. "Moses came near." He enters the very heart of the terror, the "dense gloom where God was." He goes into the danger on their behalf. He is their representative, their federal head. He stands where they cannot stand, in order to bring back the word of life that they could not hear directly.
This is a magnificent foreshadowing of the work of Christ. We all stood at a distance, alienated from God by our sin. We were without hope, far off. But Jesus Christ, our great high priest, did not remain at a distance. He drew near. He entered the ultimate "dense gloom" of the cross, where the full, fiery holiness of God was poured out against sin. He absorbed the terror that would have destroyed us, so that we, who were far off, could be brought near by His blood (Ephesians 2:13).
Because Moses drew near, Israel received the covenant. Because Christ drew near into the darkness of Golgotha, we receive the new covenant. He went into the darkness for us, so that we could be brought into the marvelous light for Him. The people stood at a distance, but Moses drew near. That is the gospel in miniature.
Conclusion: From Sinai to Zion
The experience at Sinai was not a failure; it was a foundational success. It succeeded in teaching Israel, and us, three essential truths. First, it taught the unapproachable holiness of God. He is not to be trifled with. Second, it taught the desperate condition of sinful man. We cannot approach Him on our own terms. And third, it taught the absolute necessity of a mediator. We need a representative who can stand in the fire for us.
The law given in terror was a schoolmaster, designed to drive us to Christ (Galatians 3:24). The thunder of Sinai makes the grace of Calvary all the more sweet. The fear that makes us cry "lest we die" is the very fear that drives us to the one who died so that we might live.
Through Christ, we are no longer kept at a distance. We are invited to draw near with confidence to the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16). The fire that once repelled us now welcomes us, because our Mediator has passed through it. The fear of God that Moses spoke of is now perfected in us by the Spirit. It is a fear that leads not to trembling distance, but to joyful, reverent obedience. We do not sin, not because we are terrified of the smoking mountain, but because we love the one who climbed a darker mountain for us, and we would not for the world grieve the Holy Spirit by which we have been sealed.
Therefore, let the memory of Sinai's terror produce in you a profound gratitude for Zion's grace. And let that gratitude produce a holy and happy fear, a fear that keeps you from sin and draws you ever nearer to the God who is no longer in the dense gloom, but who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.