You have not come to a mountain that can be touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded: "If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned." The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, "I am trembling with fear."
But you have come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the judge of all men, to the spirits of righteous men made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.
This passage excites me. It also challenges me when I pause to consider what that church of the firstborn looks like, or to ask what it means to live in light of the "judge of all men", the "new covenant" and the "sprinkled blood". These questions are ones I hope to consider in this blog.
The possible double meanings of the phrase "but you have come" intrigue me. There is the sense that one's presence may speak of an intent or desire that is not always expressed in words. Physical presence often bespeaks commitment or interest; online presence is now taking on its own meaning as well. We would do well to understand this distinction, especially in the relational context. Thank you for coming.