This is a lightly edited transcript of what I actually said when I delivered this message at Calvary Baptist Church in Findlay, Ohio, in 1998, as an evening message following a report on a summer of ministry at Camp Joy. It differs from what I planned to say; for the audio and manuscript, see the entry on the Messages page.
For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Phil Gons. As was mentioned, this summer I had the opportunity to spend about twelve weeks working at Camp Joy in Whitewater, Wisconsin. Let me tell you briefly how I ended up there. The camp came down and visited Bob Jones University, where I attend school, and went around to the different rooms talking with guys about the possibility of working at their camp.
They had talked to me the year before, and I hadn’t felt comfortable about it then. When they came back to me again this year, I told them I’d pray about it, and they said they needed to know within about two weeks. As that Saturday deadline came, I got alone with the Lord and prayed, and He gave me a peace about it that I can’t really describe—something I’d never quite experienced before. He made clear that this was what He wanted me to do. All summer I had the assurance that I was in the Lord’s will, and it was wonderful to see how He directs your steps when you’re willing to follow.
One of the best parts of the summer was sitting under the ministry of the different preachers who came through—John Vangelderen, Jim Vangelderen, John Goetsch, Morris Gleiser, Ernest Pickering, and Dr. Mark Minnick. I got to hear preaching at least twice a day, almost every day. It was like being on a spiritual high, and it was a tremendous blessing.
The first week was training week, packed with session after session preparing us for what we’d face—how to work with the kids, how to counsel, how to do what we called “one-on-ones.” During our two family camps, we each took different age groups; I helped with first through sixth graders. The next week was leadership camp, with special tracks in preaching, music, and speech.
We had a really good first group of kids—a group from Menomonee Falls, where Pastor Breyer is now. They were a piece of cake, great guys, and I thought, “This counseling thing is easy. Nothing to it.”
Then came week three, our first junior week, and that was quite a change. I had eight or nine of them, and one boy in particular, named Chris, was a real challenge. He came from a very difficult home. His father had died within the last year or two, his mother was working full-time to provide for the family, and he was pretty much on his own. He was only a fifth grader, and he really struggled. That’s no excuse for the way he acted, but you could see how it happened; I noticed that pattern often with kids from homes like that.
The first day, he bit another camper, so I sat down and talked with him. Then he bit another kid and got into a fight, so we talked again. Then he spit in my face. I didn’t care for that, but I was new at this, so I kept my cool. He also liked to run around with hardly any clothes on. He gave me constant problems, and I had a hard time with him. But between him and other campers like him, the Lord was teaching me patience. If there’s one thing I learned I didn’t have as much of as I needed that summer, it’s patience. Over and over, the Lord tested me and trained me to be patient.
I was thankful, too. Many of my campers came from rough homes and backgrounds—no Christian school, no church upbringing. It made me grateful for the family God gave me and for the privilege of being raised from birth in a church like this, in a Christian school from kindergarten through twelfth grade, in a Christian home—all the blessings we so often take for granted. I was reminded of that, and I was deeply thankful.
Another thing that stood out was the unity and friendship among the staff. We’d only been there a day or two, and everyone just clicked, because we were all there with one purpose: to serve the Lord and to see Him work. That first weekend the guys went across the street to a screen house and campsite, had a campfire, some food, and a time of songs and testimonies. It was a blessing to be with men who really wanted to serve the Lord.
Something exciting happened during leadership week. I’d been reading through Proverbs and kept coming across verses on the fear of God, and one day the Lord impressed on me to write those verses out and do a little study on the fear of God versus the fear of man. I did it without thinking much of it. That evening, after the service and the invitation, the counselors would go to the back to deal with kids one-on-one. The boy the Lord brought to me was struggling with peer pressure and with standing up for what was right. I had my little study right there, and I was able to open it and share those very Scriptures with him. The Lord had a reason for laying that on my heart—He knew He’d bring me a boy wrestling with those same things. It was exciting to see how He directs, bringing just the right kids into your cabin and across your path.
We did a lot of counseling after the services, along with our one-on-ones, where we’d sit down with each camper and talk about his salvation and spiritual needs. I was especially burdened by how much worldliness had crept into these kids’ lives, and by the false assurance many of them had about their salvation. So I had plenty of opportunity to share God’s Word, and it was remarkable how the Lord would bring verses to mind and lead me from one passage to another, almost as though He were doing it right through me.
Let me finish with two highlights. The first doesn’t happen every day. The camp owns a private island out on the lake, and a couple of us went out one Saturday to haul wood and get ready for a counselor cookout and testimony time. When we got there, a whole group of people was on the island—and it’s private, so no one is supposed to be there. We asked them to leave, and they told us that we should leave, because they were there first. We ended up calling the police, who came out, searched their things, and found drug money and marijuana. So that was some excitement—not your everyday occurrence.
My second highlight is far better. All summer I saw kids make decisions—about assurance, about dedication to the Lord, about worldliness. But about halfway through, I had a burden to see someone actually trust Christ, and I began praying specifically that the Lord would let me see one person saved that week.
I had a boy in my cabin named Derek. In our one-on-one I learned he wasn’t saved. He said he wanted to be, but he wasn’t ready, and he couldn’t tell me why. I said I’d meet with him later in the week. We met a couple of days later, and I got the same answer. So I said, “Okay, I’ll meet with you Friday night,” since they left Saturday morning. Friday night after the service, one of my campers came back—not Derek, but another boy named Joshua—and I had the privilege of leading him to the Lord. Later that evening, during cabin devotions, as we were getting ready for bed, Derek said, “I want to meet with you.” I asked him, and he said, “I’m ready. I want to be saved.” So that same night I saw two of my campers trust in the Lord. I was reminded of the verse, “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think.” I had asked to see one person saved, and the Lord let me see two.
I could go on, but I have a message to preach, so that’s enough. I just had a wonderful summer, and I’d challenge any of you who have the chance to counsel at a camp to take it. It’s a great blessing. The Lord will teach you much about yourself and show you your weaknesses. Now, if you would, turn with me to Leviticus chapter 20, verse 26.
Tonight we’re going to look briefly at the subject of holiness—God’s holiness and ours. The word “holiness,” together with its related forms, appears over 650 times in the Bible. Clearly it’s something Scripture talks about a great deal—something important, something we need to look at and deal with. My prayer is that we’ll come to it with open hearts and open minds, and let the Holy Spirit speak to us. My thesis is simply this: because God is holy, it is absolutely essential that His people be holy.
And ye shall be holy unto me: for I the LORD am holy, and have severed you from other people, that ye should be mine. (Leviticus 20:26)
Let me begin with a few voices from church history. Sam Jones, in the nineteenth century, said it is the tide of worldliness sweeping over the homes of our country that is undermining the life of the church. William Burns, of Scotland’s 1839 revival, said that seeking personal holiness is the fundamental requisite for a successful ministry. Charles Spurgeon asked whether the measure of a church’s influence might be estimated by its holiness. And Andrew Bonar said, “God works most by holy instruments.” These men understood what it meant to be holy, and they emphasized personal holiness—the very issue I want us to consider tonight.
In our day, when we talk about holiness, it’s often viewed negatively. Someone who wants to live by biblical standards, to stand up for what’s right and live wholeheartedly for God, is frequently labeled a legalist or a Pharisee. What is this holiness, and how should we apply it? Look again at our verse. I want to draw three things out of it—three messages it sends us.
Holiness Is Demanded
We see this in the first two phrases: “And ye shall be holy unto me: for I the LORD am holy.” Notice first the divine command—“ye shall be holy unto me.” You might look at that future-tense verb and think it only means that someday, when we get to heaven, we’ll be holy. But that’s not it at all. Take one of the Ten Commandments: “Thou shalt not kill.” That’s also a future-tense form, yet it’s plainly a command, not a prediction. It’s the same here.
Scripture repeats this command again and again: “ye shall…be holy; for I am holy” (Leviticus 11:44–45); “Ye shall be holy: for I the LORD your God am holy” (Leviticus 19:2); “Sanctify yourselves therefore, and be ye holy” (Leviticus 20:7); “be ye holy in all manner of conversation…Be ye holy; for I am holy” (1 Peter 1:15–16); and that we “should be holy and without blame before him” (Ephesians 1:4). Holiness is not optional. It’s not something we can take or leave. It’s required of everyone who names the name of Christ—not just pastors, teachers, deacons, and parents, but child, teen, and adult alike.
One of the New Testament’s common words for a believer is “saint.” It isn’t reserved for a special class of Christians; it’s used of believers in general. And the Greek word behind “saint” is the same word for “holy.” A saint is literally a “holy one.” A believer in Christ, by definition, is a holy one.
That’s the divine command. Notice, second, the divine commander: “ye shall be holy unto me; for I the LORD.” Who is speaking? God Himself. And notice something unusual—He speaks in the first person. Usually God spoke to Moses, and Moses relayed, “God said, do this or don’t do that.” But here, and with the other commands to holiness in Leviticus, the command comes in the first person. That’s significant. This matter is important to God; He puts special emphasis on it.
Notice, third, the divine claim: “for I the LORD am holy.” We are to be holy because God is holy. Scripture testifies to this everywhere: “thou only art holy” (Revelation 15:4); “who is like thee, glorious in holiness” (Exodus 15:11); “there is none holy as the LORD” (1 Samuel 2:2); and the seraphim crying, “Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts” (Isaiah 6:3; cf. Revelation 4:8).
Notice how “holy” is spoken three times. The Bible uses repetition for emphasis—as when Christ said, “Verily, verily, I say unto you,” meaning, “Truly, truly—pay attention; this is important.” “Holy, holy, holy” powerfully emphasizes God’s holiness. And notice: no other attribute of God is proclaimed this way. We never read “love, love, love” or “mercy, mercy, mercy.” God’s holiness stands, as it were, above all His other attributes; all the rest flow from it. If tonight we could catch a glimpse of God’s holiness, as Isaiah did in Isaiah 6, I’m convinced it would change the way we live. Isaiah, one of the holiest men in Israel, saw the Lord and fell down as though dead, crying, “Woe is me! for I am undone;…I am a man of unclean lips.” If we saw God in His holiness tonight, I’m convinced we’d do the same.
Holiness Is Distinction
The next phrase reads, “and have severed you from other people”—literally, have set you apart, made you distinct from other people. How does this apply to our lives? The noun form of “holiness” means apartness or separateness; the adjective means sacred or set apart; the verb means to set apart. We often treat separation and holiness as two different things, but they aren’t. Separation is intrinsic to the very definition of holiness. Holiness is more than moral purity—though it certainly includes that—it carries with it the idea of being set apart.
When we hear “separation,” we often think negatively right away. But this passage first emphasizes the positive: “ye shall be holy unto me.” We have the privilege of being separated wholly unto God. Too often we focus on the negative—“How far from the world do I have to stay? Where do I draw all the lines?”—and miss the glorious fact that we get to be separated unto God.
I was at Jason Peeler’s wedding just yesterday, and it illustrates the point. At a wedding, two people publicly declare their love and set themselves apart unto each other. Yes, they’re also separating themselves from everyone else—but does the groom dwell on that as a negative? Of course not. He’s focused on the joy of belonging to his bride. That should be our focus, too: not the negative, but the privilege of separating ourselves unto God.
Yet the positive does have a negative side. If we’re to be wholly separated unto God, we must be separated from the world. We can’t be set apart unto God and remain unseparated from the world. Scripture is plain: “Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world” (1 John 2:15); “be not conformed to this world” (Romans 12:2); “the friendship of the world is enmity with God…whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God” (James 4:4). If we refuse to separate from the world, we are, in effect, waging war against God.
Let me get practical with one area of application. First Peter 1:15–16 tells us where holiness applies: “be ye holy in all manner of conversation…Be ye holy; for I am holy.” “Conversation” here means conduct, lifestyle, manner of life. We’re to apply holiness to every area of life. Consider just one: the area of media—movies, television, videos, and the like. Paul writes, “I would have you wise unto that which is good, and simple concerning evil” (Romans 16:19). “Simple” there means innocent, pure, untainted. He wants us untainted where evil is concerned.
I recently read a content review of a popular film, and it catalogued crude language eleven times, obscene language eleven times, profanity—taking the Lord’s name in vain—sixteen times, along with scenes of nudity. That’s the kind of thing filling our screens today. Can we be “simple concerning evil” and still take that in? I don’t see how. David said, “I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes” (Psalm 101:3). Paul said to think on “whatsoever things are true,…honest,…just,…pure,…lovely,…of good report” (Philippians 4:8). By what you watch—on television, in the movies you rent, wherever—do you follow these principles? I’ll leave that with you to weigh.
I fear our attitude toward sin is not what it used to be, and certainly not what it should be. If we glimpsed God’s holiness and His attitude toward sin, it would change ours. “Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity” (Habakkuk 1:13); “Thou hast loved righteousness, and hated iniquity” (Hebrews 1:9); “The way of the wicked is an abomination unto the LORD” (Proverbs 15:9); “These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him” (Proverbs 6:16). Sin is an abomination to the Lord—He hates it. If we’re to be holy, we must share His attitude toward sin. We must hate it and abhor it as He does.
Holiness Is Devotion
Look at the last phrase: “that ye should be mine.” God wants us clearly to be His—separated from all else, dedicated and devoted wholly to Him. He wants it evident that we belong to Him alone, not stranded halfway, where no one can tell whether we’re Christians or not. He wants it clear and distinct.
Let me close with two reasons personal holiness is essential. First, holiness is essential for fellowship with God. “Your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you” (Isaiah 59:2); “If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me” (Psalm 66:18); “If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie” (1 John 1:6). Second, holiness is necessary for effective service. As Andrew Bonar said, “God works most by holy instruments.” “If a man therefore purge himself from these,…he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master’s use” (2 Timothy 2:21). God will use a weak vessel; He’ll even use a broken vessel; but God will not use a dirty vessel. We must be clean—we must be holy—to be useful to Him.
Let me make one thing clear: these standards of holiness don’t make us spiritual. Someone with higher standards than yours isn’t automatically more spiritual. Holiness simply clears the way—it removes the distractions and the sin so that we can grow spiritually and be used by God. The standards we set are meant to keep sin and wickedness out so that God can work in us and through us.
Let me close with an illustration. There’s an animal called the ermine, a member of the weasel family, with a beautiful coat that turns a brilliant, pure white in winter. Its fur is valuable, and hunters prize it. But the ermine hates to get its coat dirty; it’s constantly cleaning itself. So a hunter will find the ermine’s hole and, while the animal is away, pack the entrance with mud and filth. Then he turns his dogs loose, and the chase begins. The ermine flees to its only refuge—its hole—but when it reaches home and sees all that mud and filth, rather than soil its white coat, it turns to face the dogs instead. We need more ermine Christians—more people so concerned to keep a holy, pure life before God that they’ll turn and face the dogs of this world, stand for God, and be different. Let’s pray.
Heavenly Father, we thank You for this passage—that You are holy and have called us to be holy. Work in our lives, and convict us of the areas where we’re not matching up with what Your Word teaches. Help us to live holy lives, so that we can be effective in service for You. In Jesus’ name, amen.