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Above All: Exploring the Epistle to the Hebrews
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Above All: Exploring the Epistle to the Hebrews
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Connected by scripture or shared themes.
"See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven? At that time his voice shook the earth. But now he has promised, 'Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.' This phrase 'yet once more' indicates the removal of what is shaken — that is, created things — so that what cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe. For indeed our God is a consuming fire." — Hebrews 12:25–29 (NRSV)
This afternoon we focus in particular on verses 28 and 29.
The writer of Hebrews begins verse 28 with the word "Therefore." Is the writer summarizing just Hebrews 12? Or the entire message of Hebrews? I suspect both are at play.
The writer knows they are coming to the end of their argument — about to move into closing remarks, goodbyes, and take-cares. So they are summarizing everything said across twelve chapters: that God is greater, that Jesus is greater than every idea.
And as this chapter closes, the writer wants that single idea — that Jesus is greater than everything else — to lead these people not to head-scratching or to intellectual pursuit alone, but to worship. Worship deeply rooted in reverence and awe.
He wants them to capture a picture of the Jesus he is deeply in love with — the Jesus who is better than all the religious systems and structures he has inherited: the covenant, the Sabbath, the priestly system. All of these are covered in Hebrews 1 to 12. And here he focuses their attention on worship.
Let us explore this idea of a kingdom that cannot be shaken compared to a world that can be shaken.
"The words 'once more' indicate the removing of what can be shaken — that is, created things — so that what cannot be shaken may remain." — Hebrews 12:27
What does the rest of the New Testament say about the things that can be shaken?
In 1 Corinthians 7:31, Paul says, "The present form of this world is passing away." He says it as a call to remain faithful — in singleness, marriage, holiness, and decisions about the body. Since this system of things is passing away, remain faithful to that which cannot pass away.
And in 2 Peter 3:10–13, Peter speaks of the end of all things:
"But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed... Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness... But in accordance with his promise, we wait for the new heavens and the new earth, where righteousness is at home."
Where righteousness is at home. What a phrase. No more warring, no more fighting, no more resisting, no more having to overcome. Righteousness will simply be at home there.
I once pastored in Bournemouth, over thirty years ago. A woman came to our church who had interpreted this passage in a way that made her life very restricted and eventually made her sick.
She had heard someone say that because the earth would be dissolved and replaced with a new heaven and new earth, it didn't matter what she did with the old one. So she cancelled her life insurance and her house insurance. She stopped exercising. She stopped caring for her health. Slowly she was dying. When I asked her why, she said, "Because this whole manner of things is going to be dissolved, so why should I worry?"
That is not what this passage means. In Scripture — whether the earth is dissolved or not — we are appointed as curators of this world with God. We are custodians, partners with him in his creation, responsible to look after the environment around us.
So this passage never means you can treat the world however you want. It never means you can disregard everything else because "it's all going to burn up anyway." That is not in any realm of imagination what this passage means.
Peter is describing something the Bible tells us about, but not fully — and it has generated a great deal of argument.
Scripture tells us there will be an utter change at the end of time: a transformation after which the new heavens and new earth will emerge. But contrary to the first creation — where God made something out of nothing (ex nihilo) — this new creation is not made out of nothing. God takes something and transforms it.
Paul uses this idea in 1 Corinthians 15, speaking of resurrection life:
There are two views about physical "stuff."
The Bible is clear that God gave physical stuff to us. He created it, laid its foundations, and when he wants to, he can wrap it up. That is exactly what he is going to do.
"In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands... They shall pass away, but you endure; like clothes that shall all grow old, you shall fold them up like a cloak. Yes, they shall be changed like any garment." — Hebrews 1:10–12 (quoting Psalm 102, NEB)
In Hebrews 1, the writer emphasizes the transitoriness of the world to contrast it with the eternity of the Son of God. In Hebrews 12, he does the same thing — but now contrasting the temporary world with the eternity of the new order into which the Son of God has brought his people.
You are now part of something that, even when the old order is folded up, will remain. The planet upon which you walk will stop; it will be dissolved. The thoughts and intentions of every person will be disclosed. There will be a full stop at the end of every part of your life — except one: the kingdom which cannot be shaken.
Right now, as a follower of Jesus, you are living in two realms at the same time:
At the end of all things, the eternal reign and rule of God will not even be interrupted by the dissolution of planet Earth. Everything around you may burn up. The whole planet may be transformed. Is that nuclear? Climate? Cosmic? Something we can't even understand? I don't know, and I won't conjecture.
I'm a great believer that if the Bible doesn't explain it clearly, don't try to be clearer than the Bible. Just let the mystery sit. What is definitely there in Scripture is that the whole created order will end, a new order will emerge, and the only thing from the new order accessible in this order is the kingdom of God — the reign and rule that cannot be shaken, changed, diminished, destroyed, concealed, or stopped.
"If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come." — 2 Corinthians 5:17
In Greek it's very brief: "If in Christ — new — everything new." Punchy, confrontational, like a biblical tweet. Easy to remember, not too complicated.
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth... And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God... 'See, the home of God is among mortals... He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.' And the one who was seated on the throne said, 'See, I am making all things new.'" — Revelation 21
One view: the new world is made out of the stuff remaining after this one passes away.
But another view — the one I lean toward — is drawn from how John describes it: "I saw the new Jerusalem descending." Descending from where? From the very heart of God, from the throne room of his presence.
So whereas in the first creation God made everything out of nothing, the new heavens and new earth are made out of the very fabric of heaven itself. That would explain why there is no sin there, why death is no more.
If everything is going to be burned up, then everything will be burned up: death, shame, fear, unrequited desire, selfishness, pride, hatred, isolation, grief, darkness. All gone — part of an old story, but not part of the new one. This new heaven and new earth will be so completely new that nothing will taint it, destroy it, maim it, limit it, or reduce it.
"At that time his voice shook the earth. But now he has promised, 'Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.'" — Hebrews 12:26
That phrase — the hinge of everything we're exploring — comes from Mount Sinai. But there is also a hint of it in the book of Haggai, written in 520 BC:
"The word of the Lord came a second time to Haggai on the twenty-fourth day of the month... 'Speak to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, saying, I am about to shake the heavens and the earth, and to overthrow the throne of kingdoms.'" — Haggai 2:20–21
Do you hear the echo? You are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken... I am about to shake the heavens and the earth and to overthrow the kingdoms.
Interestingly, in the Septuagint, Haggai 2 says kings, not kingdoms — "I am about to shake the kings." And here is why I think the writer of Hebrews speaks of kingdoms: if the king is gone, the kingdom is gone. If the king is removed, the kingdom falls.
So who is the only King who cannot be removed? That is why his kingdom cannot be shaken — because he can never be dethroned. No matter what happens in your life, King Jesus will always be King Jesus. He will not abdicate, be overturned, replaced, or die. There is nobody waiting in the wings, because he has already died and risen and will never die again.
"My name is Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. And behold, I hold the keys of death and Hades."
The kingdom cannot be shaken because the King cannot be shaken.
"The kingship and dominion and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole earth shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High. Their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey them." — Daniel 7:27
Did you catch that? The kingdom is given to the people of the Most High. Jesus will share his kingdom with us here on earth, and it will never be removed.
In Hebrews it is called unshakable. In Daniel it is called everlasting. Both point to the same thing: it is absolutely secure. That is why, as a Christian, I can have assurance of salvation — because I am part of a kingdom that is everlasting, unshakable, and unmovable.
"Let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire." — Hebrews 12:28–29
What is our response to all this? Gratitude. Grace evokes gratefulness. The faithfulness of God draws worship, obedience, and right living out of us — we do not draw it out of ourselves.
There are iron filings of obedience in my life, and the magnet of God's unshakable kingdom draws them into alignment. The devil wants us to believe we are never able to do the right thing. Jesus wants us to know we are always able to do the right thing. But we do not beat ourselves into it — it is the promise of the kingdom that draws faithfulness and worship out of us.
This morning I spoke at the induction of one of our pastors, Karen Jess, who is pastoring a new church in Bushey. I talked about preaching, faithfulness, caring, praying, and telling the truth. But here is what I said at the end — and it isn't my original thought; it's Eugene Peterson's:
The most important thing a pastor does, Sunday by Sunday, is come to the pulpit and say, "Let us worship God."
Because in doing that, I call you out of all your present reducing and controlling circumstances, and I remind you that you are part of a kingdom that cannot be shaken. All the lies thrown at you this week — that you are not good enough, not successful enough — are dissolved when you refocus on the unshakable kingdom.
You think worship is just singing. But when our worship leaders call us to worship, they are calling us to life, calling us to see things differently, calling us to reorder our whole existence under this single idea: we are part of a kingdom that cannot be shaken.
So we come into God's presence intentionally. We don't fall in out of bed. We don't drift in on our telephones. We come to the God of the universe ready to give him reverence and awe — because the act of worship transforms us. We don't come to be reordered; we come to worship, and as we worship we are reordered:
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
When worship is reduced to one song, one prayer, one hymn, and one nine-minute message, we miss something so vital that we end up committing spiritual suicide.
We Pentecostals have a problem here. Yes, God is our papa. Yes, I can jump on his lap. But never without reverence — never without deep respect for who he is.
The writer uses the word for reverence (found only here and in Hebrews 5:7). It has no English equivalent. It's a deep, intimate, close respect. You have to reach back to the Victorian "papa" — which held both intimacy and respect. "Father" feels too distant; "daddy" too familiar. Combine deep familiarity with deep respect and you get this word.
And awe — the Greek deos — means holy fear. Not fear of punishment, but a holy, deep respect.
We are also told to worship God "acceptably." That word appears only twice in the Bible — here and in Romans 12:1: "present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God." But they're used differently. In Hebrews 12:28 it is an adverb — how we approach God. In Romans it is an adjective — describing the worship itself. So both our worship and the manner of our worship must be acceptable.
What is an acceptable manner? Humility and confidence. If you come to God afraid to be in his presence, that is not acceptable. The whole book of Hebrews says, "Come boldly to the throne room; come with confidence." You come knowing you are redeemed — that is the acceptable way — while also aware of his greatness and power, with holy reverence in your heart.
This language is borrowed mostly from Isaiah, where the idea of God as a consuming fire appears again and again — in 4:4, in the altar-fire that cleanses Isaiah in chapter 6, in 10:17, in 30:33.
Let me share a long quote from George Adam Smith's commentary on Isaiah, printed in London in 1927:
"To Isaiah, life was so penetrated by the act of justice of God that he described it as bathed in fire, as blown through with fire. Righteousness was not just a doctrine to this prophet; it was the most real thing in history... We will understand the difference between Isaiah and his people if we have ever, for our eyes' sake, looked at a great conflagration through a coloured glass which allowed us to see the solid material — stone, wood, and iron — but prevented us from seeing the flames and the shimmering heat. To look thus is to see pillars and lintels and crossbeams twist and fall, crumble and fade — but how inexplicable the process seems. Take away the glass and everything is clear. The fiery element is filling all the intersections that were blank to us before... Just so had it been with the sinners in Judah for forty years. Isaiah alone faced life with open vision... At last the glass fell from their eyes too, and they cried aloud, 'Who among us shall dwell with this devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?'"
Put it into context. Imagine looking at our national life and politics — seeing only what is broken. But for a moment God gives you eyes to see his holiness blazing behind it: blazing against injustice, against laws that promote wickedness, burning into the conscience of the church and saying, "You worship me, but this is damp. There is no fire here — just words rising from a building."
If we could see where God's fire is at work — how he is moving on the earth, preparing us for all that is to come — something would change in our behaviour. Our God is a consuming fire. Just because you can't see what he's doing doesn't mean he's not doing something. Just because we think people are getting away with it doesn't mean God doesn't notice.
"Who can behold the blazing light? Who can approach consuming flame? None but thy wisdom knows thy might; none but thy word can speak thy name." — Isaac Watts
This fire burns. It burns up whatever is exposed to God's holiness. One day all spiritual opposition — not people — will be dealt with. Nadab and Abihu offered unauthorized fire (Leviticus 10) and were consumed. Sodom and Gomorrah were consumed. In Hebrews 12, the context is a warning against refusing God's voice: his fire will judge rebellion and burn up unbelief.
This fire purifies. Fire refines precious metals by removing impurities. "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver" (Malachi 3). "When he has tested me, I shall come forth as gold" (Job 23:10). God's fire does not only destroy — it transforms his people, burning away what does not belong in us.
This fire separates. Fire reveals what is genuine. On Mount Carmel it distinguished the true God from Baal (1 Kings 18). "He will test our work with fire" (1 Corinthians 3:13–15). John the Baptist described Christ separating wheat from chaff (Matthew 3:11–12). The shaking of Hebrews 12 works like fire, removing what is temporary so what is eternal remains.
This fire protects. God's fiery presence surrounds and guards his people. The pillar of fire led and protected Israel and stood between them and Pharaoh's army (Exodus 14). "I will be a wall of protective fire around her" (Zechariah 2:5). The same fire that judges God's enemies protects his people and consumes the fiery darts of the evil one — because the fire of God is stronger than the fire of Satan. If someone wants to get to me, they have to come through the fire of God first.
This fire consumes. Ultimately God consumes everything that cannot exist in his holy kingdom — not everything, but everything that cannot remain. "The Lord your God is a consuming fire" (Deuteronomy 4:24). Elijah's sacrifice was completely consumed (1 Kings 18); the heavenly altar consumed Solomon's sacrifice (2 Chronicles 7). At the end of the age, all creation will be purified on the altar, so that what remains is what God has given us — the eternal, unshakable kingdom.
That's why, when Moses saw the fire, the bush was not consumed.
In Hebrews 12, everything shakable is removed so that only the unshakable kingdom remains. God's fire consumes sin, evil, and rebellion — everything that opposes his reign in me, in you, and in the world. It purifies his people, separates the false from the genuine, protects those who belong to him, and consumes everything that cannot remain.
That makes Hebrews 12:29 — "our God is a consuming fire" — both a warning and a comfort. The fire that destroys God's enemies is the same fire that refines, guards, and ultimately transforms us.
So we worship him, because he is a God of consuming fire. Amen.
"See that you do not refuse the one who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused the one who warned them on earth, how much less will we escape if we reject the one who warns from heaven? At that time his voice shook the earth. But now he has promised, 'Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.' This phrase 'yet once more' indicates the removal of what is shaken — that is, created things — so that what cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe. For indeed our God is a consuming fire." — Hebrews 12:25–29 (NRSV)
This afternoon we focus in particular on verses 28 and 29.
The writer of Hebrews begins verse 28 with the word "Therefore." Is the writer summarizing just Hebrews 12? Or the entire message of Hebrews? I suspect both are at play.
The writer knows they are coming to the end of their argument — about to move into closing remarks, goodbyes, and take-cares. So they are summarizing everything said across twelve chapters: that God is greater, that Jesus is greater than every idea.
And as this chapter closes, the writer wants that single idea — that Jesus is greater than everything else — to lead these people not to head-scratching or to intellectual pursuit alone, but to worship. Worship deeply rooted in reverence and awe.
He wants them to capture a picture of the Jesus he is deeply in love with — the Jesus who is better than all the religious systems and structures he has inherited: the covenant, the Sabbath, the priestly system. All of these are covered in Hebrews 1 to 12. And here he focuses their attention on worship.
Let us explore this idea of a kingdom that cannot be shaken compared to a world that can be shaken.
"The words 'once more' indicate the removing of what can be shaken — that is, created things — so that what cannot be shaken may remain." — Hebrews 12:27
What does the rest of the New Testament say about the things that can be shaken?
In 1 Corinthians 7:31, Paul says, "The present form of this world is passing away." He says it as a call to remain faithful — in singleness, marriage, holiness, and decisions about the body. Since this system of things is passing away, remain faithful to that which cannot pass away.
And in 2 Peter 3:10–13, Peter speaks of the end of all things:
"But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed... Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness... But in accordance with his promise, we wait for the new heavens and the new earth, where righteousness is at home."
Where righteousness is at home. What a phrase. No more warring, no more fighting, no more resisting, no more having to overcome. Righteousness will simply be at home there.
I once pastored in Bournemouth, over thirty years ago. A woman came to our church who had interpreted this passage in a way that made her life very restricted and eventually made her sick.
She had heard someone say that because the earth would be dissolved and replaced with a new heaven and new earth, it didn't matter what she did with the old one. So she cancelled her life insurance and her house insurance. She stopped exercising. She stopped caring for her health. Slowly she was dying. When I asked her why, she said, "Because this whole manner of things is going to be dissolved, so why should I worry?"
That is not what this passage means. In Scripture — whether the earth is dissolved or not — we are appointed as curators of this world with God. We are custodians, partners with him in his creation, responsible to look after the environment around us.
So this passage never means you can treat the world however you want. It never means you can disregard everything else because "it's all going to burn up anyway." That is not in any realm of imagination what this passage means.
Peter is describing something the Bible tells us about, but not fully — and it has generated a great deal of argument.
Scripture tells us there will be an utter change at the end of time: a transformation after which the new heavens and new earth will emerge. But contrary to the first creation — where God made something out of nothing (ex nihilo) — this new creation is not made out of nothing. God takes something and transforms it.
Paul uses this idea in 1 Corinthians 15, speaking of resurrection life:
There are two views about physical "stuff."
The Bible is clear that God gave physical stuff to us. He created it, laid its foundations, and when he wants to, he can wrap it up. That is exactly what he is going to do.
"In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands... They shall pass away, but you endure; like clothes that shall all grow old, you shall fold them up like a cloak. Yes, they shall be changed like any garment." — Hebrews 1:10–12 (quoting Psalm 102, NEB)
In Hebrews 1, the writer emphasizes the transitoriness of the world to contrast it with the eternity of the Son of God. In Hebrews 12, he does the same thing — but now contrasting the temporary world with the eternity of the new order into which the Son of God has brought his people.
You are now part of something that, even when the old order is folded up, will remain. The planet upon which you walk will stop; it will be dissolved. The thoughts and intentions of every person will be disclosed. There will be a full stop at the end of every part of your life — except one: the kingdom which cannot be shaken.
Right now, as a follower of Jesus, you are living in two realms at the same time:
At the end of all things, the eternal reign and rule of God will not even be interrupted by the dissolution of planet Earth. Everything around you may burn up. The whole planet may be transformed. Is that nuclear? Climate? Cosmic? Something we can't even understand? I don't know, and I won't conjecture.
I'm a great believer that if the Bible doesn't explain it clearly, don't try to be clearer than the Bible. Just let the mystery sit. What is definitely there in Scripture is that the whole created order will end, a new order will emerge, and the only thing from the new order accessible in this order is the kingdom of God — the reign and rule that cannot be shaken, changed, diminished, destroyed, concealed, or stopped.
"If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come." — 2 Corinthians 5:17
In Greek it's very brief: "If in Christ — new — everything new." Punchy, confrontational, like a biblical tweet. Easy to remember, not too complicated.
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth... And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God... 'See, the home of God is among mortals... He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.' And the one who was seated on the throne said, 'See, I am making all things new.'" — Revelation 21
One view: the new world is made out of the stuff remaining after this one passes away.
But another view — the one I lean toward — is drawn from how John describes it: "I saw the new Jerusalem descending." Descending from where? From the very heart of God, from the throne room of his presence.
So whereas in the first creation God made everything out of nothing, the new heavens and new earth are made out of the very fabric of heaven itself. That would explain why there is no sin there, why death is no more.
If everything is going to be burned up, then everything will be burned up: death, shame, fear, unrequited desire, selfishness, pride, hatred, isolation, grief, darkness. All gone — part of an old story, but not part of the new one. This new heaven and new earth will be so completely new that nothing will taint it, destroy it, maim it, limit it, or reduce it.
"At that time his voice shook the earth. But now he has promised, 'Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.'" — Hebrews 12:26
That phrase — the hinge of everything we're exploring — comes from Mount Sinai. But there is also a hint of it in the book of Haggai, written in 520 BC:
"The word of the Lord came a second time to Haggai on the twenty-fourth day of the month... 'Speak to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, saying, I am about to shake the heavens and the earth, and to overthrow the throne of kingdoms.'" — Haggai 2:20–21
Do you hear the echo? You are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken... I am about to shake the heavens and the earth and to overthrow the kingdoms.
Interestingly, in the Septuagint, Haggai 2 says kings, not kingdoms — "I am about to shake the kings." And here is why I think the writer of Hebrews speaks of kingdoms: if the king is gone, the kingdom is gone. If the king is removed, the kingdom falls.
So who is the only King who cannot be removed? That is why his kingdom cannot be shaken — because he can never be dethroned. No matter what happens in your life, King Jesus will always be King Jesus. He will not abdicate, be overturned, replaced, or die. There is nobody waiting in the wings, because he has already died and risen and will never die again.
"My name is Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. And behold, I hold the keys of death and Hades."
The kingdom cannot be shaken because the King cannot be shaken.
"The kingship and dominion and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole earth shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High. Their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions shall serve and obey them." — Daniel 7:27
Did you catch that? The kingdom is given to the people of the Most High. Jesus will share his kingdom with us here on earth, and it will never be removed.
In Hebrews it is called unshakable. In Daniel it is called everlasting. Both point to the same thing: it is absolutely secure. That is why, as a Christian, I can have assurance of salvation — because I am part of a kingdom that is everlasting, unshakable, and unmovable.
"Let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire." — Hebrews 12:28–29
What is our response to all this? Gratitude. Grace evokes gratefulness. The faithfulness of God draws worship, obedience, and right living out of us — we do not draw it out of ourselves.
There are iron filings of obedience in my life, and the magnet of God's unshakable kingdom draws them into alignment. The devil wants us to believe we are never able to do the right thing. Jesus wants us to know we are always able to do the right thing. But we do not beat ourselves into it — it is the promise of the kingdom that draws faithfulness and worship out of us.
This morning I spoke at the induction of one of our pastors, Karen Jess, who is pastoring a new church in Bushey. I talked about preaching, faithfulness, caring, praying, and telling the truth. But here is what I said at the end — and it isn't my original thought; it's Eugene Peterson's:
The most important thing a pastor does, Sunday by Sunday, is come to the pulpit and say, "Let us worship God."
Because in doing that, I call you out of all your present reducing and controlling circumstances, and I remind you that you are part of a kingdom that cannot be shaken. All the lies thrown at you this week — that you are not good enough, not successful enough — are dissolved when you refocus on the unshakable kingdom.
You think worship is just singing. But when our worship leaders call us to worship, they are calling us to life, calling us to see things differently, calling us to reorder our whole existence under this single idea: we are part of a kingdom that cannot be shaken.
So we come into God's presence intentionally. We don't fall in out of bed. We don't drift in on our telephones. We come to the God of the universe ready to give him reverence and awe — because the act of worship transforms us. We don't come to be reordered; we come to worship, and as we worship we are reordered:
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
When worship is reduced to one song, one prayer, one hymn, and one nine-minute message, we miss something so vital that we end up committing spiritual suicide.
We Pentecostals have a problem here. Yes, God is our papa. Yes, I can jump on his lap. But never without reverence — never without deep respect for who he is.
The writer uses the word for reverence (found only here and in Hebrews 5:7). It has no English equivalent. It's a deep, intimate, close respect. You have to reach back to the Victorian "papa" — which held both intimacy and respect. "Father" feels too distant; "daddy" too familiar. Combine deep familiarity with deep respect and you get this word.
And awe — the Greek deos — means holy fear. Not fear of punishment, but a holy, deep respect.
We are also told to worship God "acceptably." That word appears only twice in the Bible — here and in Romans 12:1: "present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God." But they're used differently. In Hebrews 12:28 it is an adverb — how we approach God. In Romans it is an adjective — describing the worship itself. So both our worship and the manner of our worship must be acceptable.
What is an acceptable manner? Humility and confidence. If you come to God afraid to be in his presence, that is not acceptable. The whole book of Hebrews says, "Come boldly to the throne room; come with confidence." You come knowing you are redeemed — that is the acceptable way — while also aware of his greatness and power, with holy reverence in your heart.
This language is borrowed mostly from Isaiah, where the idea of God as a consuming fire appears again and again — in 4:4, in the altar-fire that cleanses Isaiah in chapter 6, in 10:17, in 30:33.
Let me share a long quote from George Adam Smith's commentary on Isaiah, printed in London in 1927:
"To Isaiah, life was so penetrated by the act of justice of God that he described it as bathed in fire, as blown through with fire. Righteousness was not just a doctrine to this prophet; it was the most real thing in history... We will understand the difference between Isaiah and his people if we have ever, for our eyes' sake, looked at a great conflagration through a coloured glass which allowed us to see the solid material — stone, wood, and iron — but prevented us from seeing the flames and the shimmering heat. To look thus is to see pillars and lintels and crossbeams twist and fall, crumble and fade — but how inexplicable the process seems. Take away the glass and everything is clear. The fiery element is filling all the intersections that were blank to us before... Just so had it been with the sinners in Judah for forty years. Isaiah alone faced life with open vision... At last the glass fell from their eyes too, and they cried aloud, 'Who among us shall dwell with this devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?'"
Put it into context. Imagine looking at our national life and politics — seeing only what is broken. But for a moment God gives you eyes to see his holiness blazing behind it: blazing against injustice, against laws that promote wickedness, burning into the conscience of the church and saying, "You worship me, but this is damp. There is no fire here — just words rising from a building."
If we could see where God's fire is at work — how he is moving on the earth, preparing us for all that is to come — something would change in our behaviour. Our God is a consuming fire. Just because you can't see what he's doing doesn't mean he's not doing something. Just because we think people are getting away with it doesn't mean God doesn't notice.
"Who can behold the blazing light? Who can approach consuming flame? None but thy wisdom knows thy might; none but thy word can speak thy name." — Isaac Watts
This fire burns. It burns up whatever is exposed to God's holiness. One day all spiritual opposition — not people — will be dealt with. Nadab and Abihu offered unauthorized fire (Leviticus 10) and were consumed. Sodom and Gomorrah were consumed. In Hebrews 12, the context is a warning against refusing God's voice: his fire will judge rebellion and burn up unbelief.
This fire purifies. Fire refines precious metals by removing impurities. "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver" (Malachi 3). "When he has tested me, I shall come forth as gold" (Job 23:10). God's fire does not only destroy — it transforms his people, burning away what does not belong in us.
This fire separates. Fire reveals what is genuine. On Mount Carmel it distinguished the true God from Baal (1 Kings 18). "He will test our work with fire" (1 Corinthians 3:13–15). John the Baptist described Christ separating wheat from chaff (Matthew 3:11–12). The shaking of Hebrews 12 works like fire, removing what is temporary so what is eternal remains.
This fire protects. God's fiery presence surrounds and guards his people. The pillar of fire led and protected Israel and stood between them and Pharaoh's army (Exodus 14). "I will be a wall of protective fire around her" (Zechariah 2:5). The same fire that judges God's enemies protects his people and consumes the fiery darts of the evil one — because the fire of God is stronger than the fire of Satan. If someone wants to get to me, they have to come through the fire of God first.
This fire consumes. Ultimately God consumes everything that cannot exist in his holy kingdom — not everything, but everything that cannot remain. "The Lord your God is a consuming fire" (Deuteronomy 4:24). Elijah's sacrifice was completely consumed (1 Kings 18); the heavenly altar consumed Solomon's sacrifice (2 Chronicles 7). At the end of the age, all creation will be purified on the altar, so that what remains is what God has given us — the eternal, unshakable kingdom.
That's why, when Moses saw the fire, the bush was not consumed.
In Hebrews 12, everything shakable is removed so that only the unshakable kingdom remains. God's fire consumes sin, evil, and rebellion — everything that opposes his reign in me, in you, and in the world. It purifies his people, separates the false from the genuine, protects those who belong to him, and consumes everything that cannot remain.
That makes Hebrews 12:29 — "our God is a consuming fire" — both a warning and a comfort. The fire that destroys God's enemies is the same fire that refines, guards, and ultimately transforms us.
So we worship him, because he is a God of consuming fire. Amen.
