Moses and the people of Israel have escaped from Egypt and are camped at Mount Sinai when this extraordinary encounter unfolds:
On the morning of the third day, there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled. Then Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God, and they took their stand at the foot of the mountain. Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the LORD had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly. And as the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder. The LORD came down on Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain. And the LORD called Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up. (Exodus 19:16-20)
Consider the magnitude of this scene. Thunder crashes overhead while lightning fractures the sky. A trumpet blares from an unseen source. The Lord descends upon the mountain in billowing smoke and fire, causing the entire peak to convulse. The trumpet’s call intensifies until Moses speaks to God, and God responds with thunder, summoning Moses to ascend the mountain.
Now reflect on your most recent prayer. Was your encounter with God anything like Moses’s experience at Sinai?
Most likely not. You probably wrestled with the same struggles we all face: distraction during prayer, a sense of obligation rather than anticipation, the feeling that the entire exchange was disappointingly ordinary. You heard no thunderous response, witnessed no smoke and fire, felt no trembling earth beneath your feet. Yet you were entering God’s presence all the same. The book of Hebrews describes this as drawing “near to the throne of grace,” the very throne of the Lord (Heb 4:16).
Setting aside the extraordinary nature of Moses’s experience, why does our communion with God in prayer feel so mundane? Perhaps you struggle to carve out time for solitude with the Lord in prayer or Bible reading. Perhaps it does feel obligatory—something you know you should do but approach without genuine excitement.
Though we may not witness smoke and fire or hear thunder, our experience is no less real. Entering God’s presence and approaching his throne is no less real. Hearing God speak through his Word is no less real.
What concerns me is that many Christians, who eagerly gather with the church and fellow believers, lack the same enthusiasm for serious, solitary time with God.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor who lived and suffered under Nazi rule during World War II, once wrote:
Whoever cannot be alone should be aware of [or concerned about] community. Such people will only do harm to themselves and to the community. Alone, you stood before God when God called you. Alone, you had to obey God’s voice. Alone, you had to take up your cross, struggle, and pray, and alone you will die and give an account to God. You cannot avoid yourself, for it is precisely God who has called you out. If you do not want to be alone, you are rejecting Christ’s call to you, and you can have no part in the community of those who are called. (Life Together)
Bonhoeffer does not disparage our desire for community with fellow believers. Gathering with other Christians is both good and necessary. The book of Hebrews affirms this:
Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day [that is, the day of Christ’s second coming] drawing near. (Hebrews 10:24-25)
We need to be together. Bonhoeffer’s point, however, is that as much as we need community with other believers, we also desperately need time alone with our Lord. We need solitude for communion with him, praying to him, and hearing from him through his Word. When we neglect private devotion, we harm both ourselves and the community we serve.
Consider this paradox revealed in recent statistics. Christians today read more Christian books than ever before in history. This shouldn’t surprise us since we live in an age when publishing and accessing books have never been easier. Yet other data shows Christians are reading the Bible less and praying less with each passing year.
We attend church, gather with fellow Christians, read Christian books, and listen to sermons. But statistically, we’re spending less time speaking to God through prayer and hearing from God through Scripture. In essence, we’re neglecting solitary devotion and communion with God—a troubling trend that demands our attention.
Read the following verses from Psalm 42 and ask yourself whether they describe the desire of your own heart: “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?” (Ps 42:1-2).
Is this the desire of our hearts? Do we long for God as we might long for water when dying of thirst? Do we want nothing more than to appear before God or see him face to face? The apostle Peter writes, “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good” (1Pe 2:2-3).
This passage reveals why we may not feel the desire expressed in Psalm 42. Perhaps we’ve never tasted that the Lord is good. You may not long to be in his presence because you’ve never truly known him. Perhaps you’ve called yourself a Christian for years, adopting that identity for familial or cultural reasons, but you’ve never been convicted of your sin or turned to Christ in repentance and faith for salvation. If so, Paul declares, “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation” (2Co 6:2). Why now? Because we may not have tomorrow. We may not have another moment.
For genuine Christians, however, we may not long for Christ as we should because we’ve allowed other things to ruin our spiritual appetites. Consider the child who spoils dinner with afternoon sweets. When we fill our souls with spiritual junk food, we naturally lose our craving for something better, even when that something is infinitely superior.
The Puritan minister Thomas Watson captured this truth perfectly: “When the stomach is full of wind, a man has no appetite for meat; so when the heart is full of the world, a man has no relish for Christ.”
Isn’t this precisely what Jesus warned us about when he described the seed that fell among thorns? “The cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful” (Mt 13:22).
Are we too distracted? This was Martha’s struggle. Consider the familiar story from Luke 10:
Now, as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)
Martha wasn’t wrong for serving. She had the most important guest in her house of all time. The problem wasn’t her desire to serve; the problem was that she was, as the text states, “distracted with much serving” (Lk 10:40).
What was she distracted from?
The contrast between Mary and Martha is deliberate and instructive. While Martha busied herself with serving, Mary sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to him. She absorbed every word he spoke. She wanted to hear what he had to say to her, to enjoy that fellowship with him. The physical food Martha was likely preparing became secondary to Mary’s desire for spiritual nourishment from the Bread of Life. After all, Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst” (Jn 6:35). Ordinary, physical bread cannot compare with Christ, the Bread of Life.
In the end, Jesus tells Martha, “One thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion” (Lk 10:42). As one commentary notes, this “echoes Old Testament passages where the greatest possession is close fellowship with the Lord as one’s ‘portion’ in life.”
Communion with the Lord— Jesus declares it both necessary and good. Elsewhere, he affirms, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4).
Do we really need smoke and thunder to motivate us to approach the throne of grace and spend time alone with God? Remember that the people of Israel trembled when they camped at the base of Mount Sinai and witnessed that awesome display. The book of Hebrews offers an insightful comparison between the experience of the Israelites under the old covenant and our experience under the new:
For you have not come to what may be touched, a 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. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” (Hebrews 12:18-21)
The experience of Israel when they approached God was marked by distance, judgment, and fear. They begged not to hear another word from the Lord, for his presence was so terrifying.
But everything changes for God’s people under the new covenant in Christ. The author of Hebrews continues:
But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. (Hebrews 12:22-24)
The contrast is striking. In Christ, we approach Mount Zion with joy and anticipation. We find belonging rather than banishment, righteousness rather than condemnation, because we have a perfect Mediator.
This reality gives us even greater motivation to turn to the Lord in private devotion, to speak with him and learn from him. Please don’t neglect this good and necessary practice. By all means, meet with fellow believers and read worthy Christian books. But spend ample time alone with the Lord, praying and reading his Word. It will prove immensely rewarding.
As James promises, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (Jas 4:8).