Tag: Holiness

To Judge or Not to Judge

The phrase “Judge not, lest ye be judged” has become a cultural catchphrase, often used to discourage any form of moral discernment. Yet in 1 Corinthians 5, Paul offers a strikingly different perspective, reminding us that judging is not only appropriate in some contexts—it’s necessary. Paul tells the Corinthian church to cast out a brother engaging in blatant and unrepentant sin, saying, “For what do I have to do with judging those outside? Are you not to judge those inside?” (1 Corinthians 5:12, NET).

Paul’s teaching here clarifies a common misconception. Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1 aren’t a blanket prohibition against all judgment but a warning against hypocritical and self-righteous judgment. We’re called to examine our own hearts before addressing sin in others (Matthew 7:3–5). Paul builds on this, differentiating between judging outsiders—those who don’t claim to follow Christ—and judging those within the church who profess faith but live in open rebellion against God’s commands.

This kind of judgment isn’t about condemnation but restoration. The goal of church discipline, as harsh as it may seem, is redemptive. By removing the immoral brother, the church sends a clear message that sin cannot be tolerated in the community of believers, while also creating space for repentance and reconciliation. Paul writes, “Deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord” (1 Corinthians 5:5).

In a world that often prioritizes tolerance over truth, this passage challenges us to embrace a higher standard of love—one that doesn’t ignore sin but confronts it for the sake of holiness. It also reminds us to leave ultimate judgment of the ungodly to God, who judges with perfect justice and mercy.

Are there areas where you’ve avoided addressing sin because it feels uncomfortable or counter-cultural? Paul’s words urge us to be bold yet humble, seeking restoration and standing firm in the truth of the Gospel.

Rites, Rituals, or Relationship?

The vision given to Peter in Acts 10 was a pivotal moment that fundamentally changed the understanding of righteousness within the early Christian community. Peter’s vision didn’t just signal a shift in dietary laws or the inclusion of Gentiles; it marked a transformative shift in what it means to be right with God. No longer was righteousness about a series of rites and rituals or strict adherence to cleanliness laws. Instead, it became about redemption—a new covenant founded on grace, received through faith, and evidenced by the overflow of good deeds as a response to God’s love.

Peter’s initial reaction in Acts 10, where he recoils from the idea of eating anything “impure,” represents his ingrained adherence to the Law as the means to holiness. But God responds by shifting his perspective: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). This response encapsulates the gospel’s transformative power, a shift from “do this to be clean” to “you are clean; go and live it.” The moment Peter understood that no external act of cleanliness or ritual was needed to enter into right standing with God, it opened the door to something remarkable—a new motivation for good works rooted in gratitude rather than obligation.

Under the old covenant, a person’s deeds were often driven by a sense of duty. Rites and rituals maintained a relationship with God, but it was a relationship heavily weighted by the need to maintain purity and fulfill ceremonial obligations. In Christ, however, we’re given a different foundation: the righteousness of Christ. Our standing is secure because Jesus accomplished what we could not; He was the “once for all” sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10). This assurance allows us to perform good works as an act of devotion and gratitude, rather than as a duty imposed by law.

The beauty of this reversal lies in the order: we’re not working our way to holiness, but rather, we’re invited to let holiness work in us and through us. Paul writes about this transformation in Ephesians 2:10, saying, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” In other words, good works are the fruit of our relationship with God, not the root.

Peter’s encounter led him to a new way of seeing both God and people. The call to holiness was no longer an isolated adherence to the rules, but an invitation to reflect God’s love to all people, Jew and Gentile alike. When he declares in Acts 10:34-35, “God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right,” it’s a revelation: holiness has been redefined. Relationship—not ritual—takes precedence, and our lives become expressions of this connection.

Today, it’s easy to slip into a mindset where we still feel that “being right with God” is something we have to maintain by doing enough, serving enough, or sacrificing enough. But Jesus already accomplished the “enough.” Instead, we’re called to let His redemption flow outward, so that our deeds become acts of gratitude. This order reversal isn’t just freeing; it’s empowering. We no longer need to strive to make ourselves right with God but are free to let His righteousness transform us and touch the lives of others.

The gospel has always been about a journey from ritual to relationship, from rule-following to redemption. Through Peter’s vision, we’re reminded that in Christ, our acts of love and service are not attempts to earn God’s favor; they’re joyful responses to a favor already given. As we live out our faith, may we remember that we are free to serve, free to love, and free to walk in holiness—not as a way to reach God but as the beautiful outworking of having already been reached by His grace.

Accidental Righteousness? I Don’t Think So

In Haggai 2, the prophet speaks to the remnant of Israel after their return from exile, addressing their efforts to rebuild the temple. In verses 10–19, God uses a powerful illustration to make a point about purity and defilement. He asks the priests whether holiness can be transferred through mere contact, and the answer is no. But when He asks if defilement can spread through touch, the answer is yes. The message is clear: sin easily defiles, but righteousness doesn’t simply “rub off” on others.

This context is vital to understanding the heart of Haggai’s message. The people had returned from exile and were working on restoring the temple, but their hearts were still not fully aligned with God. Despite their physical efforts, their spiritual state mattered most. The external work they were doing wouldn’t make them righteous before God if their hearts remained impure. Sin, like a disease, contaminates easily, and their efforts—while good—couldn’t cleanse them of their sinful tendencies.

For us today, the application is profound. Sin spreads easily in our lives. It creeps in through the smallest cracks—our thoughts, attitudes, habits, and relationships. It doesn’t take much for our hearts to be tainted by pride, anger, jealousy, or selfishness. Righteousness, however, is not something that happens accidentally or passively. It requires intentional pursuit and devotion to God. Just as the Israelites couldn’t rely on the temple to make them holy, we can’t assume that simply attending church or reading the Bible without engagement will make us righteous.

We are fertile ground for sin, and it is our default state unless we actively seek God and allow His Spirit to transform us. The world around us often promotes values and behaviors that can easily defile our hearts and minds, and if we aren’t careful, those influences can take root. But righteousness requires effort. It demands that we choose, day by day, to walk in obedience to Christ, to reject sin, and to cultivate the fruits of the Spirit in our lives.

God’s grace is what enables us to pursue righteousness, but it doesn’t remove the need for effort. We must be intentional in our pursuit of holiness, knowing that it is by God’s power, not our own, that we grow in righteousness. Like the Israelites rebuilding the temple, we need to focus not only on the external aspects of our faith but also on the condition of our hearts. We must be vigilant, always seeking to uproot sin and replace it with the righteousness that comes through Christ.

Going Through the Motions? The Call to True Holiness

During today’s reading, I was struck by how the people of Israel seemed to treat the temple and its associated rituals as mere routines, missing the deeper significance. This echoes God’s command to His people in Leviticus 19:2: “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.” The call to holiness means being set apart—distinct from the common, the mundane, the profane. Holiness is not simply about following rituals, but about embodying the character of God Himself.

The people of Israel had fallen into the trap of ritualism—going through the motions without grasping the essence of what it meant to be in relationship with a holy God. Ezekiel’s temple vision is a stark reminder of this. The very structure, the detailed measurements, and the specific instructions all scream one thing: God’s holiness demands reverence. The temple was not just a building; it was the dwelling place of the Almighty, and everything about it was designed to reflect His uncommon nature.

Holiness isn’t just about external actions but about the condition of the heart. The rituals were meant to point to something deeper—God’s character and His call for His people to be set apart from the world. The Israelites were not simply to look different from the nations around them; they were to embody the nature of the God they served. And that same call extends to us today.

As Christians, it’s easy to fall into the same trap. We can go through the motions—attending church, reading the Bible, saying prayers—without really engaging with the holiness of God. The routines and rituals of our faith can become just that: routine. But God calls us to live uncommon lives, to be set apart for His purposes. Holiness is not something we achieve by ticking boxes or performing rituals. It’s a transformation that takes place when we allow God’s Spirit to shape us into the image of Christ.

So what does that mean for us today? First, we must recognize that holiness is not optional. Just as God’s people were called to be distinct, we are called to be salt and light in a world that often looks very different from God’s Kingdom. Second, we need to reflect on our own lives and consider whether we’ve reduced our relationship with God to a series of rituals or whether we are truly engaging with His presence. Lastly, being uncommon means living with purpose, showing the world that there is something different about those who follow Christ—not because of anything we do, but because of who He is.

Holiness is not about being perfect; it’s about being set apart for a purpose. Let’s embrace that calling today.

Why God’s Perfect Plan Can Bring Us Shame—and Healing

In Ezekiel 43:10-11, God commands the prophet to share the vision of the temple with His people, saying, “Describe the temple to the people of Israel, that they may be ashamed of their sins.” This might seem strange at first—why would the description of something as beautiful as God’s temple cause shame? The answer lies in what the temple represents. In its perfection, holiness, and divine order, the temple was a physical reminder of God’s standards for His people. It was a blueprint not only for worship but for life—a life that Israel had strayed from.

The vision of the temple in Ezekiel contrasts sharply with Israel’s disobedience, idolatry, and neglect of their covenant with God. They had defiled the first temple with their sin, and as a result, it was destroyed. Now, as Ezekiel presents the plan for a new, perfect temple, the people are confronted with how far they’ve fallen from God’s design. In that moment, the shame they feel isn’t meant to be a crushing weight of guilt—it’s a pathway to repentance. God isn’t showing them the temple to condemn them but to lead them back into right relationship with Him.

For us, this principle still holds. When we come face-to-face with God’s standards, His holiness, and His perfect design for our lives, it can often bring a sense of shame. We realize how much we’ve fallen short, how we’ve allowed sin or neglect to creep into our lives. But just like with Israel, God doesn’t reveal this to condemn us. He reveals it to call us back to Him. The shame we feel is not the end; it’s the beginning of healing and restoration. In our brokenness, God invites us into something better—a life aligned with His will, full of grace, forgiveness, and transformation.

When we encounter God’s perfect plan—whether through Scripture, the prompting of the Holy Spirit, or even the example of others living out their faith—it can bring a mixture of emotions. We may feel unworthy or ashamed of where we are. But take heart: God reveals these things because He loves us and wants to restore us. Just as He promised Israel a new temple and a fresh start, He offers us newness in Christ. The shame we feel is not a burden to carry but a catalyst for turning back to God. In Him, we find forgiveness, restoration, and the power to live as He intended.

Perverting Worship

Worship is more than singing songs or performing rituals; it is the expression of our reverence, love, and obedience to God. True worship is rooted in the recognition of God’s holiness, majesty, and authority. It involves aligning our hearts and actions with God’s will, living in a way that honors Him.

In Ezekiel 8, we see a vivid example of how Israel perverted worship. God gave Ezekiel a vision of the temple in Jerusalem, where idolatrous practices were being conducted in secret. The people had turned the temple, the very place dedicated to God’s holy presence, into a house of idols. The leaders and priests, who were supposed to guide the people in true worship, were themselves engaged in corrupt practices. They thought they could hide their sins, saying, “The Lord does not see us, the Lord has forsaken the land” (Ezekiel 8:12, NLT). But God did see, and He was grieved by how they had desecrated His sanctuary.

This passage serves as a warning to us today. While we may not bow to physical idols, we can still fall into the trap of idolatry. Anything that takes the place of God in our lives—whether it be success, money, relationships, or even religious traditions—can become an idol. We must be vigilant in examining our hearts and our worship practices to ensure that they are truly centered on God.

Jesus emphasized that true worshipers will worship the Father in “spirit and truth” (John 4:24, NLT). This means our worship must be sincere, coming from a heart that is fully devoted to God, and it must be in accordance with His truth as revealed in Scripture. Let us strive to keep our worship pure and focused on God alone, avoiding the mistakes of Israel by not allowing anything to corrupt our devotion to Him.

Perspective on Perspective

I’ve always said that a change in perspective changes everything else, and that really came to the fore for me today. When we read prophetic books like Jeremiah, it’s easy to imagine that the “wicked people” he rebukes are those far from God, outsiders to the faith. But the more I read them the more a chilling realization set in: these are not outsiders he’s addressing—they’re believers, people who are supposed to be part of the family of God.

This shift in perspective changes everything. The harsh words and dire warnings take on a new weight when we recognize that they’re directed inward, toward those who claim to know God but live as though He doesn’t exist. It’s a reminder that being a believer isn’t just about belonging to the right group or knowing the right things; it’s about living in alignment with God’s will.

God’s rebukes through Jeremiah are a call to self-examination. Are we merely believers in name, or are we actively pursuing a life that reflects God’s holiness and love? The people of Judah had allowed their faith to become hollow, a mere shell of what it was supposed to be. They had the outward appearance of God’s people but lacked the inward devotion and obedience that He desires.

This perspective forces us to ask hard questions about our own faith. Are there areas in our lives where we’re just going through the motions? Do we, like the people of Judah, take God’s grace for granted, assuming that our status as believers exempts us from true repentance and transformation?

Jeremiah’s message is a call to wake up. To see ourselves as God sees us and to let that perspective drive us toward deeper faithfulness. It’s not enough to be part of the family of God in name only; we must live as true children of God, fully committed to His ways.

Beware the Holy Huddle

In Jeremiah 15, we see a profound tension between God’s judgment and His love. At the end of the chapter, God speaks of separating the precious from the vile, calling Jeremiah to be His mouthpiece. This passage highlights an important truth: it’s not enough to merely separate ourselves from sinful people and their actions. While we are called to be holy and set apart, this doesn’t mean we should isolate ourselves from the world or look upon sinners with only indignation.

God’s heart is not one of mere separation but of redemption. He loves every person, even those steeped in sin, and desires their repentance and return to Him. As followers of Christ, we are called to reflect that same love and concern. Rather than isolating ourselves or being content with indignation toward the sin we see around us, we are to engage with the world in love, warning them of the coming judgment and offering the hope of salvation.

Jesus modeled this perfectly. He spent time with sinners, not to condone their sin, but to call them to repentance and offer them the life that only He could give. We are called to do the same—to love the lost and to be bold in warning them of the danger they face without God.

In essence, true holiness isn’t just about separating from sin; it’s about being the light that draws others out of darkness. If we truly love as God loves, we will go beyond indignation and strive to bring others into the safety of God’s grace.