Burning up Mount Sinai
David Jackman spoke on how to teach the book of Exodus at the recent MTS (Ministry Training Strategy) conference in Sydney, repeating talks that he was giving around the country. His talk was superb both in helping us to understand the message of Exodus, and in teaching us a lesson in how to get your message across without shouting. Somehow David made it seem possible that passion and efficiency could go hand in hand, as if his motto in preaching was to ‘talk softly and carry a big stick’.
The big stick was the Bible—in particular, God dealing with his people in the Book of Exodus. But rather than hit us over the head with it, David gently and subtly used it to push us in the right direction so that we would see a gracious and glorious God who, at the same time as he shows mercy, is also a consuming fire.
So get set for a series of CHNs in which I shamelessly download the contents of my brain, referring only to a brilliant set of notes from David Jackman that nearly set my keyboard on fire (I was typing so fast but even then my attempts failed to keep up!).
And speaking of fire, one off the first things that David pointed out was how God meets Moses at Mount Horeb (also Mount Sinai) in Exodus 3, and appears to him in a burning bush. Here, for the first time in the Bible, the concept of ‘holiness’ is explicitly introduced. In response to the holiness of God, Moses must change his behaviour: “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground” (Exod 3:5).
So far, so good. Well, it's not really that good in terms of Moses' retirement plan, because Moses' removal of his sandals is the least of the rather enormous behavioural changes that this 80-year-old man is going to have to make to the nursing home routine. But that's a story for another day.
In the meantime, notice the subsidiary promise that God makes to Moses, which is part of a bigger and better promise that you really need to read in your own time. It's a promise that really directs the entire flow of the story right up to Exodus 19: God says, “But I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain” (Exod 3:12).
So we are expecting a return to this holy mountain later in the story. Sure enough, it happens: God does what he promises. Only this time, it is not one man but an entire race of people that stand there. And it is not just a burning bush; the whole flopping mountain is on fire!
Now that's a terrifying and fairly graphic picture of the true meaning of holiness. Our God is a consuming fire, burning up all that doesn’t conform to his own holy and righteous character. And at the moment he was meeting Israel at Mount Sinai, God (unlike David Jackman) did not choose this moment for classic British understatement.
Incidentally (and this is me, not David Jackman speaking now), how fascinating is it that neither bush nor mountain were burnt up. You, together with 10,000 other tourists on any given day, could go and stand on Mount Sinai right now (assuming you can work out which mountain it is amongst the several possibilities). We may well be burned and incinerated because of our sin, for “man shall not see me and live” (Exod 33:20). Even to touch the mountain of God's presence meant death (Exod 19:12, Heb 12:20). But both bush and mountain were safe. Why? Surely there is something fundamentally good and right about God’s creation that even human sinfulness can’t destroy (Gen 1:31).
I am not for a moment suggesting that this is the main thought behind the unconsumed bush and mountain of Exodus. But it fits well with the character of a gentle and gracious Creator: he wouldn’t go around blowing up everything he touches.