The Mountains Know: A Biblical Blueprint for Purpose from Hermon, Tabor, and Zion
- Catherine Guillaume-Sackey
- May 17
- 6 min read
Master of Public Affairs and Politics | 2024 Princeton P3 Scholar | 2022 Rutgers University Paul Robeson Scholar | Analyst | NJ Certified MWBE | Community Development Advocate | Leadership Development Consultant
May 17, 2025

Opening Reflection: The Dew That Connects
“It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. For there the Lord ordained the blessing—life forevermore.” —Psalm 133:3 (CEB)
Psalm 133 is often remembered as a celebration of unity, but the final verse holds something deeper. It connects two mountains: Hermon in the far north and Zion in the south—two peaks not naturally linked by climate, terrain, or proximity. And yet, the psalmist envisions the dew of Hermon falling on Zion.
This is no ordinary dew. It represents a spiritual flow, where blessing and life ordained by God begin in the heights of identity and descend toward the place of covenant and fulfillment. Hermon, rich in moisture and elevation, symbolizes where the blessing originates. Zion, the city of God’s dwelling, is where it lands.
It’s not a meteorological phenomenon. It’s a divine blueprint.
So, where do you stand? Are you at the height of a new calling, in the clarity of revelation, or in the place where fulfillment begins to take root?
To answer that, we look to the man who first saw it all from a distance.
From Dew to Distance: Moses and the Distant Peak
Now picture Moses on Mount Nebo, the wilderness behind him, and the Promised Land before him. His journey is ending, but Israel’s is just beginning. He looks across fields and cities not yet possessed. But far in the distance—Mount Hermon glimmers, snow-capped and still.
The Lord says, “This is the land I swore to give… I have let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross into it.” (Deuteronomy 34:4)
This isn’t punishment—it’s perspective. Moses sees what his people will inherit: a terrain not just of land, but of transformation.
The same question confronts us: Can you recognize the mountains that shape your purpose—even if you haven’t reached them yet?
Three Mountains, One Journey
Within the land Moses beheld, three mountains frame the story of spiritual progression:
Mount Hermon – the mountain of calling
Mount Tabor – the mountain of revelation
Mount Zion – the mountain of dwelling and fulfillment
These are more than places. They are processes. And every purposeful life—every believer seeking divine direction—will walk through them. Sometimes more than once.
So let us begin at the beginning.
Mount Hermon: The Mountain of Calling
Elevation: 9,232 ft (2,814 m) Region: Israel–Lebanon–Syria border Terrain: Snow-fed limestone, cedar forests, source of the Jordan River
Hermon is where God names you before anyone else recognizes you. Near Caesarea Philippi, at its base, Peter declares, “You are the Messiah,” and Jesus responds, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” (Matthew 16)
This moment happens in a remote, elevated region—not in the Temple, not in the courts, but in the wilderness of intimacy. Hermon represents the season when God confirms who you are in Him, even if your circumstances haven’t caught up yet. So did Ruth, whose loyalty and obedience in obscurity positioned her in the lineage of Christ. She didn’t climb a platform—she committed to a promise. She was in a Hermon moment, walking unseen, but seen by God.
Hermon is where purpose begins in private.
Spiritual Symbolism:
Limestone – Foundations laid before fruitfulness
Cedars – Covenant endurance and strength
Springs – Quiet provision that later flows into public rivers
Reflection Questions:
What has God spoken over you that no one else sees yet?
Are you faithful in the hidden place?
Are you trying to skip the spring and run to the river?
The Road from Hermon to Tabor: Faith Finds Its Feet
The path to Tabor from Hermon is not paved—it is tested. Along this road flows the Jordan River, fed by Hermon’s melted snow. The Jordan has always symbolized transition and surrender—from the wilderness to promise, from the old to the new.
This road is made of rock, dust, and decision. It’s where calling is either nurtured or neglected.
The Jordan says: “You don’t just receive identity—you walk it out.”
Mount Tabor: The Mountain of Revelation
Elevation: 1,886 ft (575 m) Region: Lower Galilee Terrain: Isolated dome-shaped hill of soft limestone, figs, herbs, and wild trees
Traditionally identified as the site of the Transfiguration (Matthew 17), Tabor is where Jesus is revealed in His divine glory. It is also where Peter hears the words: “This is my Son… listen to Him.”
But others were shaped at Tabor too:
Deborah called Barak to Tabor’s base (Judges 4–5), where obedience to a prophetic word led to national deliverance.
Saul, before he became king, encountered a group of prophets near the oak of Tabor and was changed by the Spirit (1 Samuel 10:3–5).
Tabor is where vision expands—but obedience must still descend the mountain.
Spiritual Symbolism:
Soft limestone – Hearts that are moldable
Fruit trees – Insight that nourishes
Low elevation, high visibility – A place where God makes truth seen
Reflection Questions:
What has God shown you recently that changed your perspective?
Are you willing to return to the valley and carry the revelation?
Has God spoken through someone, like Deborah, to call you into action?
The Road from Tabor to Zion: Dust, Delay, and Deepening
The road from Tabor to Zion crosses valleys and hills. You’ll pass through Shechem, Samaria, Bethlehem—places of promise and pain. The terrain gets rockier, and the silence gets longer.
But this is the road of refinement.
Here, Jesus walked, David fled, and prophets wept. The dust beneath your feet isn’t delay—it’s discipleship.
This road forms those who are ready to host God’s presence.
Mount Zion: The Mountain of Fulfillment and Dwelling
Elevation: 2,510 ft (765 m) Region: Jerusalem Terrain: Rocky limestone, olive trees, pomegranates, figs Key Feature: The Gihon Spring
Zion is not just where God meets people—it’s where He dwells. It’s where David ruled, Solomon built, and the Holy Spirit descended in Acts 2.
But beneath Zion runs the Gihon Spring—a source traced back to Eden:
“A stream rose from the earth and watered the land…” —Genesis 2:5–6 “A river flowed from Eden… one of them was the Gihon.” —Genesis 2:10,13
This tells us something profound: God created the water before He placed the person. Before the crown, before the Temple, before the Church—the spring was already flowing.
You are not sustained by applause. You are sustained by the Holy Spirit.
Reflection Questions:
Are you building from God's well—or others' wells?
What fruit is growing in your life now that wasn’t possible before the valley?
Can you steward dwelling, not just arrival?
Personal Reflection: Walking the Road Between Tabor and Zion
I’ve stood on Tabor. I’ve seen what’s possible. But I’m still walking—dusty feet, tired heart, steady Spirit. I’ve learned that Zion isn’t reached through ambition—only through alignment.
Every stone beneath me matters. Every spring, inside me flows. And every step forward is one the Holy Spirit will lead me.
Conclusion: The Mountains Know. The Roads Matter. The Spirit Leads.
From Hermon to Zion, purpose unfolds not just on the peaks, but on the paths in between. The blessing flows not just from what you see, but from where you stand and how you walk.
God gives the river before the role. He maps the road before the mission. And He sustains the journey with the Holy Spirit, not with status.
So whether you’re standing at the edge of calling, waiting in revelation, or walking toward fulfillment, trust the terrain. Follow the flow. Walk with the Spirit.
“Blessed are those whose strength is in You, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs…” —Psalm 84:5–6 (NIV)

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