If you want to speak of holiness in the Christian life, you must abandon the notion that it is a servant’s project to become “better” in order to earn a reward or appease a demanding master. That is not Christianity. Holiness is not the striving of a worker before a harsh boss. It is the gentle, patient restoration of the sick by the only true Physician.
The Gentle Physician and the Comforter
God’s approach to our sanctification is not forceful or abrupt. He does not snap bruised reeds or snuff out smoldering wicks. If He were to “fix” us by force, we would be destroyed. Instead, He heals with infinite patience and compassion. He has given us the Holy Spirit—the Comforter—who broods over us as a mother hen over her chicks, nurturing us back to life.
“A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory.” (Matthew 12:20)
The first glimpse of the Spirit in Scripture is in Genesis, “brooding” over the deep—hovering, nurturing, preparing for light to break forth. This is not the posture of a judge, but of a life-giver. Jesus Himself wept over Jerusalem, longing to gather even His enemies under His wings as a mother hen gathers her chicks. His heart is unfathomably compassionate, even toward those who hate Him.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!” (Matthew 23:37)
If you do not see this—if you do not begin with the compassion of God revealed in Christ—you will inevitably revert to law. You will approach sanctification as a legal transaction, and you will miss the heart of God entirely.
Sinai’s Terror Is Not Our Portion
Do not forget what Sinai was: a mountain shrouded in darkness, thunder, and fire. God spoke from the cloud, and the people begged for silence, covering their ears in terror. Even Moses said, “I exceedingly fear and quake.” The Law Giver at Sinai was unapproachable, a consuming fire. To touch the mountain was to die.
“For ye are not come unto the mount that might be touched, and that burned with fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest…” (Hebrews 12:18)
Yet this is not the mountain to which we have come. But tragically, this atmosphere of terror and distance has infected the way many view holiness. They imagine God as the relentless Law Giver, and so they approach sanctification with fear, striving, and a sense of impending judgment. This is not the gospel. This is not the Christian life.
The Face of God Revealed in Christ
The Law was given before God became a man. The full revelation of God is not at Sinai, but in the face of Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, has made Him known (John 1:18). If your knowledge of God is shaped only by Old Testament images—miracles, judgments, deliverances—but is not clothed with the face and heart of Jesus Christ, you do not know God. You are left with a veiled understanding, just as the Pharisees were: reading the Scriptures, but missing the One to whom they point.
“But their minds were blinded: for until this day remaineth the same veil untaken away in the reading of the old testament; which veil is done away in Christ.” (2 Corinthians 3:14)
“For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” (2 Corinthians 4:6)
The Spirit, the Comforter, broods over our hearts to illuminate this knowledge. He does not drive us with threats; He nurtures us with the revelation of Christ’s compassion.
The Physician Who Became Our Cure
Jesus Christ is not merely the Son of God enthroned in inaccessible glory. He is the Man born of a virgin, the Man of sorrows, rejected and acquainted with grief, wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities. He set aside His glory, took the form of a servant, and went lower still—dying the most shameful death, bearing our sin, becoming a curse for us. He was disfigured beyond recognition, forsaken, and condemned sin in His flesh.
“He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief… But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities…” (Isaiah 53:3,5)
He cried out in agony, was heard because of His righteousness, and was raised from the dead. Now He is seated at the right hand of God, having tasted death for every one of us. He is touched with the feeling of our weaknesses, sympathetic to our frailty. This is the God who wept over Jerusalem, who reconciled enemies to Himself, not counting our sins against us.
“God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them…” (2 Corinthians 5:19)
While we were hostile, alienated, and heirs of wrath, He became our Physician—not calling for judgment, but for healing. He did not come to condemn, but to save. He did not call the police; He called 9-1-1. He did not demand our performance; He offered Himself as our cure.
What Is Lost If You Accept the Error
If you insist on viewing holiness as a legalistic self-improvement project—if you see God primarily as the Law Giver demanding performance—you lose everything that Christ accomplished. You forfeit the comfort of the Spirit, the compassionate nurture of the Physician, and the assurance of your inheritance as a son. You return to Sinai, to fear and striving, and you place yourself under a ministry of death and condemnation. You exchange the living hope of reconciliation for the endless treadmill of self-effort. Most gravely, you undermine justification itself, for you make sanctification a matter of human achievement rather than God’s gracious healing. This is not a secondary matter. It is salvific.
The True Path of Holiness
Holiness is the result of remaining under the care of the Divine Physician. The Spirit gently heals, restores, and transforms us—not by legal demands, but by nurturing us in the knowledge of God’s glory in the face of Jesus Christ. Sanctification is not a fearful climb up a legalistic ladder, but a gradual, compassionate healing. The Holy Spirit broods over your heart, illuminating Christ’s finished work and reminding you that your sanctification is God’s work, not yours.
When you fail, God is not calling the police. He is calling the ambulance. He is gathering you, comforting you, and healing you. Holiness is not your achievement; it is the fruit of His gentle, persistent, and loving care. Trust the hand of the Physician. Do not return to Sinai. Remain in the embrace of the One who gave Himself for you, and let His Spirit bring you to life.
