Rediscovering the Holiness of God (When We’ve Made Faith All About Us)
Okay, this is a tough one. So please, hang in there with me and know that all I say is in humility and love. But, I’ll admit it: I’ve spent a lot of my life treating God like He’s my cosmic buddy. You know, the kind of friend who’s always there with a high-five, ready to cheer me on, no matter what. I’ve prayed prayers that sound more like a coffee order—quick, specific, and all about what I want. And worship? Honestly, there have been Sundays where I’ve walked into church thinking more about how the music makes me feel or whether the sermon will give me something to chew on than about the God I’m supposed to be there for.
My generation, the Gen X-er, grew up in an era where faith got a makeover. We wanted church to be relevant—less stuffy, more approachable. We built seeker-friendly services, traded hymns for guitars, and made sure everyone felt welcome. And you know what? That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. We’ve reached a lot of people that would never come into a wooden bench, “hell-fire-and-brimstone” church. But somewhere along the way, we might’ve swung the pendulum a bit too far. We made faith about us—our comfort, our needs—when it’s supposed to be about Him. About a God who isn’t just loving kindness, but holy. A God who commands reverence, who calls us to worship Him not because of what He does for us, but because of who He is.
So let’s talk about God’s holiness—because I think we’ve lost sight of it. Not to beat ourselves up, but to wake up to something bigger, something awe-inspiring, something that might just change the way we walk with Him. And, I have to tell you, when you see the holiness of God — nothing else will ever be enough.
What Does “Holy” Even Mean?
When the Bible calls God holy, it’s not just saying He’s really, really good. The Hebrew word for holy, qadosh, means “set apart,” “distinct,” “unlike anything else.” God’s holiness is His absolute perfection—His complete separation from sin, His unmatched majesty, His untouchable glory. Isaiah 6:3 captures it when the angels cry out, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory!” They don’t just say it once—they repeat it three times, which in Hebrew is like putting it in all-caps, bold, and underlined. This is a big deal.
In the Old Testament, God’s holiness wasn’t something you could just shrug off. When Moses met God at the burning bush, he was told, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground” (Exodus 3:5). When the Israelites set up the tabernacle, God gave pages of instructions about how to approach Him—specific garments, sacrifices, and rituals (Leviticus 16). Why? Because His holiness demanded reverence. One wrong move, like Uzzah touching the Ark of the Covenant (2 Samuel 6:6-7), could be fatal—not because God’s mean or unfair, but because His holiness is like an all-consuming fire (Hebrews 12:29). It’s pure, powerful, and not to be trifled with.
But fast forward to today, and I wonder if we’ve forgotten that. We’ve made God so approachable that we’ve lost the wonder of His otherness. We sing about His love (which is real!) but skip the part where His holiness makes us fall on our faces in awe. We’ve traded reverence for relatability, and in the process, we’ve made worship more about what we get out of it than about the God who deserves it.
How We Made Faith About Us
And, I know that my generation played a big role in this shift. We came of age in the ‘80s and ‘90s, skeptical of institutions, craving authenticity and individuality. Don’t put me in a box and slap a label on me. No way. No how. Part of an “organized religion”? No thank you. Don’t you dare call me “Baptist.” I prefer “non-denominational” (which, it turns out, just means no accountability for your staff, your pastor, or your theology – who knew?). Church felt stale, so we pushed for change. We wanted faith to feel personal, not like a dusty rulebook. So we built churches that felt like coffee shops, with worship bands that sounded like U2 and sermons that doubled as self-help, life coaching, or TED Talks. We wanted seekers—people far from God—to feel at home. And that was a good instinct! Jesus does meet us where we are.
But here’s where we might’ve missed the mark: we started designing worship around the seeker instead of the Savior. We asked, “What will make people show up?” instead of “What does God deserve?” We made church about how it makes us feel—uplifted, inspired, encouraged—rather than about giving God the glory He’s due. We try. But have we gone so far down the fox hole that we don’t see daylight? Meaning, do we not even understand what “holiness” or “glory” is anymore? Psalm 29:2 says, “Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness.” But too often, we’ve walked into worship and our first thought or impression is, “What’s in this for me?”
And it’s not just church services. Our prayers, our faith, our whole approach to God can start to look like a transaction. We pray for what we want—better job, healthier kids, less stress—and if God delivers, we’re grateful. If He doesn’t, we’re frustrated. We treat Him like a heavenly Amazon Prime, expecting same-day delivery on our dreams. But God’s holiness reminds us: He’s not here to serve our agenda. We’re here to serve His.
Rediscovering Reverence Without Losing Love
So how do we get back to revering God’s holiness without turning faith into a cold, rigid checklist? Because here’s the beautiful thing: God’s holiness doesn’t cancel out His love—it amplifies it. 1 John 4:8 tells us, “God is love,” but His love isn’t a mushy, anything-goes, way to go kid, you’re the best kind of love. It’s a holy love—pure, sacrificial, and powerful enough to bridge the gap between His perfection and our mess.
So, how do we even start to understand the holiness of God? How do we approach true holiness that is so pure it has struck people dead in the bible (yes, there is more than one)? Well, here are a few things that I’ve been doing to start reclaiming that reverence, and maybe it’ll help you get on that road too:
- Pause and Marvel at Who He Is
Before you pray your list of needs, take a second to just sit with God’s holiness. Read Isaiah 6 or Revelation 4 and picture the throne room—angels, glory, a God so majestic that even the seraphim cover their faces. Let that sink in. Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” I recently got “Be Still and Know” tattooed on my arm (don’t tell my folks – they think my tattoo phase is over). Sometimes, just being still reminds us He’s not our buddy—He’s our King. For me, I need to be reminded of this 24/7/365. He is God. - Worship for His Sake, Not Yours
Next time you’re in church (or singing along to Spotify), focus on giving God glory, not chasing a feeling. Try praying, “Lord, this is for You, because You’re worthy.” Revelation 4:11 says, “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power.” Worship isn’t about what we get—it’s about what He deserves. - Own Your Smallness (It’s Freeing)
God’s holiness reminds us we’re not the center of the universe—and honestly, that’s a relief. I don’t have to have it all figured out. Job 38-41 is God’s mic-drop moment, where He reminds Job who’s in charge with questions like, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” Basically “Who do you think you are compared to Me?” Embracing our smallness lets us rest in His bigness. That doesn’t mean we are insignificant. An unmeasurable God would not lay down His life for someone insignificant. It does mean that we are not the one who holds the universe in our hands. - Let His Holiness Shape You
God’s not just holy—He calls us to be holy too (1 Peter 1:15-16). Not in a “be perfect or else” way, but in a “let Me make you more like Me” way. Ask, “God, where’s my life not lining up with Your holiness?” Maybe it’s how you talk, what you watch, or how you treat people. Let His holiness refine you—it’s not a burden; it’s an invitation.
The Wake-Up Call We Need
I’m not saying we need to ditch the guitars or make church feel like a funeral. God is approachable—Hebrews 4:16 says we can “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence.” But confidence doesn’t mean casualness. We can come boldly because of His holiness, not in spite of it. His holiness is what makes His grace so staggering—He’s perfect, yet He stoops to love us. Us! The ones who mess up, who pray distracted prayers, who sometimes treat Him like a vending machine.
This isn’t about guilt. It’s about awe. It’s about waking up to a God who’s bigger than our preferences, our plans, or our feelings. A God whose holiness demands our reverence but whose love invites our trust. When we start to see Him as holy—not just helpful, not just kind—we start to worship differently. We pray differently. We live differently.
And that brings me to something I’ve been chewing on lately. Growing up in the South, we had this phrase, “Sunday best,” for our behavior and our clothes. It wasn’t just about dressing up or acting on our best behavior—it was about giving God our very best because He’s worth it. As a kid, I’d pick out my nicest dress, not to show off, but to show God He mattered. It made me think: What’s my “Sunday best” now? If I put more effort into a Saturday night date than into meeting a holy God on Sunday, what does that say about my priorities? I’m not talking suits or dresses—God doesn’t care about the dress code. I’m talking about effort. Is He worth my full attention? My best offering? For those of us who know Him, who call ourselves His children, what is our holy God worth to us? This isn’t about making seekers feel unwelcome—far from it. It’s about us, His people, remembering who we’re worshiping and what He’s worth to us.
So, Gen X, Millennials, Gen Z (and anyone else reading this), let’s not settle for a faith that’s all about us. Let’s rediscover the God who’s holy, majestic, and worthy of every ounce of our worship. Let’s give Him the glory He’s due—not because we have to, but because once we see Him for who He is, we want to.
☕ Have a little faith, a little courage, and a whole lot of stubborn joy. – Tonya
When’s the last time you felt awe at God’s holiness? What helps you keep that reverence alive? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts!
© 2025 All posts written by Tonya E. Lee
