Standing Before a Holy God: The Paradox of Divine Encounter

There exists a curious contradiction in the human heart. We claim we want to know God. We say we desire His presence. We ask Him to speak to us, to make Himself known. Yet if we're honest, we often want God strictly on our own terms—when it's convenient, when it's comfortable, when it doesn't challenge our routines or demand we change.
We prefer a God who encourages rather than confronts, who comforts rather than convicts. We want a companion who fits neatly into our lives without disrupting our schedules, preferences, or deeply held comforts. In doing so, we shape an image of God that accommodates us rather than transforms us.
But this domesticated deity bears little resemblance to the God revealed in Scripture.
The Thunder of Holiness
When we turn to Exodus 20:18-26, we encounter something altogether different from our carefully curated conceptions of the divine. The scene is anything but tame. Mount Sinai erupts with thunder and lightning. Trumpets blast. The mountain itself shakes and smokes as if a volcano is about to explode. And in the midst of this terrifying display, God speaks.
The people's response? Pure, unfiltered fear.
They backed away. They stood at a distance. They begged Moses, "You speak to us, and we will listen. But do not let God speak to us, lest we die."
This wasn't polite religious reverence. This wasn't the casual "respect" we give to authority figures. This was visceral, honest fear—the kind that says, "I am not okay. I am not righteous. I do not belong in the presence of a holy God."
Throughout Scripture, we see this pattern repeated. Isaiah cried out, "Woe is me! For I am undone!" Peter fell at Jesus' feet saying, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man." John, upon seeing the risen Christ, fell at His feet as though dead.
Why? Because when true holiness is revealed, our pride evaporates. Our excuses vanish. Our self-righteousness collapses. God's presence exposes us for who we truly are.
Two Kinds of Fear
Here's what's remarkable: God doesn't rebuke the people for their fear. Fear, properly understood, is the appropriate response to holiness. Proverbs teaches that "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."
But Moses helps the people understand something crucial. There are two kinds of fear: the fear that drives us away from God and the fear that draws us into right relationship with Him.
"Do not fear," Moses tells them, "for God has come to test you, that the fear of Him may be before you, that you may not sin."
Don't fear God so that you run from Him. Fear Him in a way that leads you to obedience. Fear Him in a way that transforms how you live.
Think of it this way: fear can make us run, hide, and avoid. But fear can also make us change. The fear of God should inspire us to live the lives He's called us to live—not because we're terrified of punishment, but because we're in awe of who He is.
When reverence for God fades in our lives, so does our obedience. So do our convictions. So does holiness. But when reverence for God is strong, avoiding sin becomes a priority. We find ourselves asking, "How could I do anything that would go against my Father?"
The Gift of a Mediator
Even after Moses reassured the people that God's purpose wasn't to destroy them but to transform them, they still remained at a distance. And in their hesitation, something beautiful happened: Moses stepped forward.
While the people stood back, Moses moved in. While they hesitated, he advanced. While they remained in the light of safety, Moses walked into the thick darkness where God's presence resided.
Moses became a mediator—someone standing in the gap between a holy God and sinful people.
This wasn't accidental. It was a foreshadowing of something greater to come.
Throughout Israel's history, the pattern continued. Priests mediated. Sacrifices mediated. The tabernacle and temple mediated. All of it pointed to one great truth: sinful people need someone to stand for them in the presence of a holy God.
Moses was the preview, but not the ultimate solution. Scripture tells us there is one mediator between God and humanity: the man Christ Jesus.
Where Moses entered darkness, Jesus entered judgment. Where Moses stood trembling, Jesus stood willingly. Where Moses risked his life, Jesus gave His life. Where Moses went up the mountain temporarily, Jesus went to the cross permanently.
Moses brought the law. Jesus brought grace and truth.
The beautiful truth of the gospel is this: because of Jesus, we don't have to stand far off. We don't have to remain distant. Through Christ, we can draw near with confidence to the throne of grace. The curtain has been torn. The barrier has been removed. Access has been granted.
And yet, many believers still live like Israel at Sinai—saved but distant, forgiven but hesitant, redeemed but reserved. They know God is holy, so they keep Him at arm's length. They attend church but avoid intimacy. They read Scripture but avoid surrender. They pray but avoid transparency.
The question confronts us: Will you stand far off, or will you draw near?
Worship on God's Terms
After addressing their fears and providing a mediator, God shifts His focus to worship. And He makes something clear: because He is the one receiving worship, He determines what worship truly is.
God tells them not to make idols of silver or gold. He instructs them to build simple altars of earth or uncut stones. No polished surfaces. No decorative elements. No human artistry getting in the way.
The message? Worship isn't about performance or showcase. It's not about what impresses us. Worship is about consecration and obedience to a holy God.
God keeps worship simple, yet we make it complicated. Our pride gets in the way. We think we have to do this or that to worship rightly, when God has simply called us to submit our lives.
True worship must align with God's Word, flow from His truth, and submit to His will. It's not about satisfying ourselves but pleasing Him.
The Promise of Presence
After all the thunder, smoke, fear, warnings, and commands, God makes a stunning promise: "In every place where I cause My name to be remembered, I will come to you and bless you."
The same God who shook the mountain now offers to meet His people and bless them. Sinai was never meant to be a permanent barrier but a bridge to proper relationship.
God's desire is clear: He wants to walk with His people, bless them, and be known by them.
But the promise comes with a condition. God will dwell where His name is honored, where His Word is obeyed, where His character is cherished, where His truth is proclaimed.
Christianity isn't about occasional spiritual experiences. It's about daily relationship. Not emotional moments on Sunday, but obedient living every day. God desires not just attendance but allegiance. Not just songs but surrender. Not just words but a faithful walk.
True relationship with God always results in a life shaped by obedience.
Where His name is honored, He will come and bless. Where His Word is trusted, He will meet with His people. Where His will is obeyed, His presence will be made known.
The invitation stands: Draw near through Christ. The way has been opened. Will you respond?