Introduction:
Good morning, church. Today I want to talk about something we all feel but don’t always know how to describe. Holiness. Living a holy life right here, in a world that often seems allergic to it. The question is as old as faith itself: How in the world can I be holy?
That question isn’t for monks on a mountain or saints in stained-glass windows. It’s for parents juggling bills, students fighting peer pressure, employees working in places where God is mocked or ignored. It’s for every one of us.
Let me start with a story.
There was once a wild duck flying north in spring. He spotted a Danish barnyard and thought he’d rest for a day. The corn was good, the pond was close, and the farmer threw out feed. “Just for a day,” he told himself.
Days became weeks. Weeks became months. When autumn came, he heard his friends overhead heading south. He flapped hard but couldn’t lift off. The easy food had dulled his wings. The next spring, he heard them again, and this time he didn’t even try. By the following fall he hardly noticed them at all.
Holiness isn’t about leaving the world. It’s about refusing to let the barnyard settle into your soul. Jesus prayed in John 17:15, “I do not ask that You take them out of the world, but that You keep them from the evil one.” We are in it, but not of it.
The challenge is clear: How do we live with heavenly scent in an earthly barnyard? How do we carry God’s fragrance where we work, study, and shop without absorbing the smell of sin? Scripture gives a threefold answer: a new mind, a new covering, and a new atmosphere. Let’s walk the first path together.
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A New Mind
Philippians 2:5 says, “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.” Romans 12:2 adds, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Notice the verb: let. Holiness begins not with straining but with surrender. God asks permission to reshape our thinking.
The battle for holiness is mostly won or lost between our ears. Before an action is taken or a word is spoken, a thought is formed. If the thought is captured by Christ, the act will follow. If not, the world’s pattern wins by default.
Philippians 4:8 gives the pattern: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good report—think on these things.” Think on these things. Not just read about them. Dwell on them until they become the operating system of your life.
Worldliness isn’t scenery. It’s a value system. It calls temporary things ultimate and eternal things optional. Conformity is passive. Stand still and the world will shape you. Transformation is active, the Spirit renewing your mind.
Let’s bring it down to Monday morning. What fills your mind when you first wake? News feeds? Emails? Worry about work? Before long, those thoughts shape your heart and set your mood. But what if the first words you saw were God’s? What if your first conversation was prayer instead of headlines? That’s not pious exaggeration. It’s a practical way to let Christ reset the day before the world claims it.
Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 10:5, “We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” That isn’t a slogan. It’s a strategy. When an anxious or angry thought knocks, you don’t have to open the door. You can say, “This house belongs to Jesus.” Surrender is a moment-by-moment yes to the Spirit’s direction.
Maybe you’ve tried willpower and felt the string snap. Here’s the good news: you don’t overcome darkness by staring at it. You overcome darkness by turning on the light.
Fill your mind with the Word until it sings in your heart. Let worship music wash through your car. Memorize a single verse and repeat it when the commute drags or the meeting grows tense. Feed on Christ and starve the world’s influence.
Holiness is not about retreating from life. It is Christ living His life through yours. A classic devotional says it well: when you consent, Christ so identifies Himself with your thoughts and aims that when obeying Him, you will be carrying out your own impulses. His will becomes your joy.
Some of us grew up thinking holiness meant sinless posing, as if God is impressed by our masks. But holiness is a heart so surrendered that obedience feels natural. Like breathing. Like the string on a kite.
Remember the kite story we tell the kids? The kite thought the string held it down, until it snapped and discovered that string was the only thing holding it up. God’s commands are that string. They don’t hold you back; they hold you high.
This new mind isn’t just defensive. It’s creative. Philippians 4:8 calls us to fill the mental landscape with beauty and goodness. True, noble, pure, lovely, commendable. Instead of scrolling endless negativity, choose a Psalm. Instead of gossip, speak encouragement. Instead of cynicism, look for grace.
Think of your mind as a garden. Whatever seeds you plant—movies, music, conversations—will grow. You can’t expect roses if you plant weeds. If Christ rules the soil, holiness will bloom without striving.
And when you fail? Because we all stumble. Don’t let shame drive you into hiding. Remember Genesis 3: when Adam and Eve sinned, they hid. God came looking, not to destroy but to restore. We don’t need to hide in the bushes or behind busy schedules. Christ’s righteousness clothes us. The One who knows everything already invites us back into fellowship.
Holiness starts with that surrender. It’s not first about what you do but about who shapes your mind. It’s not a one-time event but a daily decision to give Jesus the steering wheel.
As we move toward the next point, remember this: a holy mind isn’t empty of desire; it’s full of better desires. The Spirit doesn’t leave you neutral. He gives you new loves. And those new loves will shape everything else—your choices, your friendships, your witness.
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A New Covering
If the mind is the battleground, the body is the front line. That’s why Paul urges in Ephesians 6:13, “Take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.”
God does not remove us from a hostile world. He equips us to stand and move through it. The armor of God is not decorative language. It is a daily spiritual wardrobe.
Belt of truth. Truth holds everything together. Just as a belt cinches a soldier’s gear, truth stabilizes the believer. Lies loosen our grip on reality, but God’s truth keeps life from unraveling.
Breastplate of righteousness. This is not our own righteousness; it is Christ’s. We are protected not by self-made perfection but by the covering of the One who lived perfectly in our place.
Shoes of the gospel of peace. Soldiers need traction and readiness. The gospel gives both—peace with God and readiness to bring that peace into every conversation and conflict.
Shield of faith. Faith extinguishes flaming arrows of accusation, fear, and temptation. Faith doesn’t pretend the arrows aren’t real; it puts God between us and the fire.
Helmet of salvation. Our thought life is protected by the assurance that we belong to Jesus. A soldier with a secure helmet is fearless in battle.
Sword of the Spirit. God’s Word is more than a memory verse; it is a practiced weapon. Jesus Himself parried the devil’s temptations with Scripture. We can too.
Notice something important: the armor is for movement. Shoes, shield, sword—these are not for hiding in bunkers. They are for advancing in mission. God calls us to light up dark places, to eat with sinners as Jesus did, to bring hope to the hurting. The armor insulates, it does not isolate.
A winter coat expects January. In the same way, the armor assumes the climate will be cold. We put it on daily because we live in a world that blows hard against holiness. It is not legalism to be prepared. It is wisdom.
Maybe you’ve seen faith reduced to defensive walls—rules that keep people out more than keep hearts alive. The armor of God is different. It is not a list to impress heaven. It is heaven’s gift to deploy you. Prayer seals it. Without prayer, armor is heavy metal on a sleeping soldier.
Put it on each morning. Ask the Spirit to dress you. Remember that every piece points to Jesus: He is the truth, the righteousness, the peace, the faithful shield, the saving helmet, and the living Word.
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A New Atmosphere
Holiness also needs a new climate around the heart—an atmosphere of praise. Psalm 150:6 invites, “Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.” Praise is not an optional mood. It is the air of heaven, the language of trust.
Praise shifts perspective. When we thank God for three graces before lunch or end the day with a whispered sentence of gratitude, we are not ignoring trouble; we are declaring a bigger reality. Romans 8:28 reminds us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.”
Jesus said, “Rejoice and be exceedingly glad” when persecuted (Matthew 5:12). He was not trivializing pain. He was inviting us to live from the victory that is already ours.
Think of Paul and Silas in the Philippian jail. Their backs were bruised, their feet locked in stocks, yet they sang hymns. Praise became a key that opened prison doors. When we praise in pressure, chains still fall—sometimes the ones on our own hearts.
Praise is a barometer of trust. A heart sure of God’s sovereignty sings even in the dark. A heart unsure stays silent or sour. When we practice praise, we join the atmosphere of heaven where worship never ceases.
You can start small. Begin your day with “This is the day the Lord has made.” Before bed, name one blessing aloud. In conflict, choose one sentence of gratitude instead of one complaint. These simple acts create a holy climate where bitterness struggles to breathe.
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Pulling It Together
Let’s gather the three strands.
A new mind. Surrender your thought life. Feed it with what is true, noble, pure, lovely, and admirable. Invite Christ to think His thoughts through you.
A new covering. Put on the armor of God. Let His truth, righteousness, peace, faith, salvation, and Word insulate you for mission.
A new atmosphere. Live in praise. Let gratitude be your default language, trusting that God is good and at work in all things.
Holiness is not escape from life. It is Christ living His life in you. Jesus not only shows the way—He is the way. He lived the holy life for you, died to forgive the unholy in you, and rose to live His holy life through you. Holiness is not your ladder to God; it is God’s life lifting you.
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Gospel Appeal
Some of us have been flapping like the duck in the barnyard, feeding on easy corn and wondering why the sky feels far. Others have been striving like the kite that snapped its string, chasing freedom only to crash. The call of Christ is not to flap harder or snap free. It is to surrender and soar in His strength.
Perhaps you feel the pull today. The Spirit is tugging your heart to give Jesus control of your mind, your habits, your praise. Maybe you’ve never trusted Him at all. This is your moment.
Pray with me in your heart:
“Lord Jesus, I give You my yes. Renew my mind. Clothe me in Your righteousness. Arm me with Your truth. Fill my mouth with praise. Live Your life in me. Amen.”
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Benediction
“Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it.” (1 Thessalonians 5:23–24)
