There are two places in the New Testament where the word of God is likened to a mirror—one in James, and one in 2 Corinthians. At first glance, these mirrors might seem similar, but in reality, they expose the most critical difference in all of Christian doctrine: the chasm between law and grace, between Mount Sinai and Mount Zion. This difference is not a matter of nuance or secondary importance; it is the very line between condemnation and life, between a veiled heart and the unveiled glory of Christ.
The Mirror of the Law: James’ Warning
James writes, “If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was” (James 1:23-24). This is the mirror of the law. When you approach the word as a code of conduct, you see only your natural, fallen self. The law exposes every blemish, every failure, every inability to meet God’s standard. It magnifies your sin and leaves you with nothing but the knowledge that you fall short.
But what happens next? The one who looks in this mirror, seeing only himself, walks away unchanged—forgetful, self-focused, and ultimately untransformed. This is not a minor shortcoming; it is the inevitable result of approaching God on the ground of law. The law’s mirror cannot cleanse you, cannot empower you, cannot impart life. It can only convict and condemn. And if you cling to self-effort, thinking you will do better next time, you remain under the curse the law pronounces: “Cursed is everyone who does not continue in all things which are written in the book of the law, to do them” (Galatians 3:10). There are no true “doers” of the law—only those who are veiled, insensitive to their own condition, and deceived about the possibility of blessing through self-improvement.
The Mirror of Glory: Paul’s Revelation
Paul, however, unveils a radically different mirror. “But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Corinthians 3:18). Here, the word is not a mirror showing you your own face, but the face of Christ Himself. This is the mirror of grace.
The contrast could not be sharper. Under the law, the letter kills; it is a ministry of condemnation and death, a fading glory veiled to all who approach God on Sinai’s terms. The law’s very purpose is to expose sin and magnify your inability, driving you—if you will let it—to the end of yourself. But the moment you turn to Christ, the veil is removed. You are no longer shut out from glory, no longer condemned by your reflection. Instead, you behold the glory of the Lord, and the Spirit Himself transforms you into His image. This is not self-effort, but the sovereign work of God writing Christ’s righteousness on your heart, making you a living epistle—known and read by all.
The Fatal Loss If You Miss the Distinction
If you collapse these two mirrors into one, or treat the difference as a matter of emphasis rather than covenant, you lose everything. You lose the very heart of the gospel: justification by faith apart from works, the inheritance of sons, and the cleansing of the conscience. To remain under the law’s mirror is to remain veiled, condemned, and excluded from the transforming glory of Christ. You cannot inherit by self-effort what God gives only by promise. If you insist on mixing law and grace, you forfeit the ministry of the Spirit, the internal writing of righteousness, and the permanent, unceasing glory that belongs only to those who have come to Zion.
Sinai and Zion: The Two Mountains
This is why the rest of this book will unfold the panoramic contrast between Mount Sinai and Mount Zion. Sinai is the mountain of law, of terror, of condemnation, and of fading, earthly glory. Zion is the mountain of grace, of sonship, of the Spirit’s ministry, and of eternal, heavenly glory. Every feature, every inward atmosphere, every kind of minister produced by these two mountains will be laid bare. The difference is not academic—it is salvific.
The Only Path to Transformation
Devotional life is not about coming to God for a new list of things to do. That is the path of forgetfulness, frustration, and curse. True devotion is to come, unveiled, to behold Christ and let God declare to you what He has accomplished and what you have inherited in Him. Transformation comes not by staring at your own inability, but by beholding the glory of the risen Lord. This is the ministry of the Spirit, the ministry of righteousness, the ministry that gives life.
You must choose your mountain. You must choose your mirror. To remain with Sinai is to remain veiled and condemned. To come to Zion is to be unveiled, to behold, and to be transformed—from glory to glory—by the Spirit of the Lord. There is no middle ground.
In the chapters that follow, we will trace these two mountains through scripture—through Galatians, Hebrews, Romans, and Corinthians—until the contrast is unmistakable and the glory of grace stands alone, unchallenged and unshared. This is not a matter for the spiritually ambitious or the theologically curious; it is the dividing line between death and life, between the old creation and the new. Let us press on, then, to see the breathtaking fullness of what God has accomplished in Christ, and refuse to settle for anything less.
