Sanctity is being caught up in the love of the Father for the Son. This concept has recently been impressed upon me during my canonical retreat. For whatever reason, the Lord has made this a pivotal moment for me—one I would even consider a conversion—to a deeper understanding of what sanctity truly means.
Sanctity is being caught up in the love of the Father for the Son. It is being embraced by this great love, which is our Christian heritage. Sanctity is not merely moral rectitude, and this was a lesson I had to unlearn throughout my life. As a child and later as a seminarian, if you had asked me what holiness was, I would have equated it with sinlessness. I wrongly thought that to the degree one was sinless, one was holy, and to the degree one was sinful, one was separated from the Lord.
This thinking created movements within my heart and mind that led me to panic whenever I fell into sin. It caused me to feel distant from God, depressed even, because I could not understand how the Lord could love someone who was sinful. This mindset led me to frequent confession—not for the sake of grace but out of fear, driven by scrupulosity. My instinct was not to trust in God’s mercy, but rather to expect His justice.
However, the Lord began a process of freeing me from this mindset, of having to earn God’s love by avoiding sin.
What brought this realization to light was a board game I created. As odd as it may sound, I designed this game during a 30-day silent retreat. The board consisted of 180 squares, representing a person’s lifespan or even a liturgical year. I called the game Saints and Sinners. The goal was to reach heaven, yet the symbol for heaven was surrounded by the flames of hell. If a player died in a state of sin, they went to hell. If they died in a state of grace, they went to heaven.
As players moved around the board, their actions determined their fate—whether through good deeds or sins, represented by “grace squares” and “sin squares.” Drawing a sin card required rolling to determine whether the sin was mortal. There were vocation squares where players would be called to marriage, priesthood, monastic life, or single life. If a player had sin on their soul, they had to detour to confession—akin to a pit stop—before continuing forward.
I meticulously crafted this game, spending six to eight months on it. It contained 400 cards with Scripture passages containing the word “love” and another 250 cards referencing sins found in Scripture. The logic of the game was undeniable; it reflected the moral rules I had internalized throughout life. I played it repeatedly with others, believing it captured reality.
Then, one day, it suddenly hit me. That board game was my psychosis on paper. I had reduced the moral life to a mathematical equation, a balance of justice in which the numerical accumulation or loss of grace and sin determined one’s fate. It was horrifying to think that I had designed something that reinforced the false notion that salvation is a mathematical equation between sin and grace.
That is not what God has revealed to us. Holiness is not mere moral rectitude. Holiness is being caught up in the love of the Father for the Son, so that, embraced in this love, we may be fully penetrated by it.
As I have preached on this topic, I have come to realize that this is the most “public secret” I have ever encountered in my Christian life. We are constantly told that God loves everyone. Scripture declares:
• “The Lord is good to all, compassionate toward all his works” (Psalm 145:9, NABRE).
• “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, NABRE).
• “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9, NABRE).
Yet, for some reason, many of us, myself included, develop the idea that if we are sinful, we cannot be loved, we cannot be saved.
Once I realized this truth of holiness, I took that board game—my psychosis on paper—and I burned it.
I gained further insight into this reality when I saw a washcloth fall into a bathtub. I watched as the washcloth became completely soaked. It was then that I realized every human person is like that washcloth.
God loves all of us with a love proper to Himself—a love that is infinite. Our minds cannot even grasp what infinite love truly is (see 1 Cor 2:9), yet His love surrounds and penetrates us completely. Through baptism, we have been plunged into Christ ( See Romans 6:3-4).
We are submerged in His mercy, overwhelmed by His love. Our sanctity comes from our union with Him. No one can make themselves holy because only God is holy. As Scripture proclaims: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts!” (Isaiah 6:3, NABRE). If we are holy in any way, it is because we participate in Him who is holiness itself. This is precisely what St. Peter means when he says, “we have come to share in the Divine Nature” (2 Peter 1:4, NABRE). It is as if we are inside God’s love, as in an electric field, or penetrated as a washcloth in water. As Scripture says, “For ‘In him we live and move and have our being’” (Acts 17:28, NABRE).
So where does sin come into this?
We must remember that the God of mercy is also the One who gave us the Commandments. Therefore, the Commandments themselves are acts of mercy, guiding us toward full participation in God’s love.
I then considered sin as something like grease on that washcloth. The greasy parts of a washcloth, though fully submerged in water, resists the water’s penetration. Likewise, sin creates a resistance in us, making us perceive separation from God, even though He remains present. This leads us to say things like, “I can’t pray because I am in sin” or “Maybe God doesn’t love me as much.” Such thoughts are madness! God’s love does not change! He who is infinite in love loves each of us infinitely. He who is everywhere is always with us. Isn’t this something we have heard since we were children? That is what I mean when I say this is the most “public secret” I have ever known!
Consider air. Where is air in relation to your body? Around you? In your nostrils? In your lungs? No! Air is oxygen and “O2” is necessary for every cell of your body. Even more foundational then oxygen to your body is God to your existence. God is everywhere! And if he is everywhere, as we have been taught since kindergarten, the we cannot but exist inside Him! This means that the work of Christian morality is not to earn God’s love, but to remove sin so that we may become aware of the love that already surrounds us. The issue is not God’s love, but our awareness of it—our availability to receive it.
Do you love sinful people? Think of someone you love who is sinful. Parents still love their children, even when they fall into sin. We desire reconciliation with those we love, even when estrangement causes pain. If we who are sinners can love sinful people, how much more can God, who is infinite love, love us?
A greasy rag can still be fully submerged in water. Likewise, sinful people can still be fully submerged in God’s mercy. The problem is not with the mercy, nor with the water—it is with the grease; the sin. Thus, the work of holiness is not something we achieve, but something we receive. And we receive it more fully as we remove the sin that stands between us and God’s love.
Understanding what holiness truly is has changed my world. Holiness is not moral rectitude. Holiness is not my work. Holiness is a gift—freely given in Jesus Christ—who has caught us up in the love of the Father for the Son. I challenge you: at some point today, imagine a washcloth soaked in water. Realize that you are that washcloth—completely wrapped in the mercy and love of God. Your sanctity is being caught up in the love of the Father for the Son.
Father Jarrod Lies, Pastor
