What Is Holiness?
I literally remember sitting in my high school religion class learning the textbook definition of holiness and thinking “oh”. I thought my teacher was going to give me some long explanation of what holiness is, the qualities you must possess to achieve holiness, the things you have to do to be considered holy and saintly, but she did not. She simply stated “holiness is to be like God”. At that definition I remember being both relieved and frustrated because as a self-diagnosed chronic over-thinker, I couldn’t believe that if sainthood is the measure of our holiness, but holiness is as simple as “being like God” then how-come as a devout practicing Catholic doing all the “right things” did I not yet feel holy? Is holiness something you can even feel for yourself or does that defeat the whole purpose because it’s something that is only perceived by others? Pondering the questions of holiness in my heart would consume much of my prayer for the next decade, and in particular my Lenten season for 2026.
There have been several changes in my life over the past year, and without giving you a laundry list of what those things are, I will say that with change comes transition and with transition our discipline is tested to the fullness of its capabilities. All of my routines were turned upside down and many of my fruitful habits like contemplative prayer died. The church has liturgical seasons for a reason, and while Advent is our actual liturgical “New Year”, I for one am guilty of treating Lent like a spiritual New Years. I don’t think there is anything wrong with using a season for it’s intended purpose, and for Lent that is undivided focus in spiritual growth. So I decided this years Lent would be my time to “lock in” and re-train holy habits to become muscle memory. Saint Therese had also been following me for well over a year now asking if we could be friends, and for whatever reason or wound unbeknownst to me I avoided her. That’s a story for another time, but I finally said “Okay Therese, you have my attention.” and I gave her the space to talk and work within me over the lenten season through reading book called “The Way of Trust and Love: A Retreat Guided by Saint Therese of Lisieux” by Father Jacques Phillipe.
I entered Lent with a checklist. I’m going to fast from xyz, I’ll pray this exact thing every morning and regain routine, and I’ll read this book to finally check of my list that I was “open” to befriending Saint Therese. This was essentially my mindset going into lent, which was poor to say the least, whereas I’m usually pretty good with managing expectations for things like this. Of course, I failed miserably at this list, because I was just trying, and striving, and reaching for some semblance of external routine because in my mind that meant internal holiness. But what I realized more and more and what was reiterated in the book is that it’s actually much easier to be holy the less I do.
Yes, the pursuit of sacraments and a disciplined routine is beneficial, critical even, to foster a good healthy prayer life which will in turn make you holy because you are making time to dwell with Holiness itself. However, that routine doesn’t have to be an A-Z list of things you do everyday. The value of your holiness is not measured by what you do but by what heart you do it with. This is made very clear in Matthew 6:5-6 and again in Luke 18:10-14. I was watching a campy christian show with my roommate on one of our girl’s night, and the sunshiny main girl said to the broody antagonist “What does God call an angry prayer? A prayer.” That goes for a rushed prayer, reluctant prayer, sad prayer, you name it. The Lord is not satisfied by you only when you give Him a certain version of your heart. He is satisfied in you, and getting to have you. Once He has your cooperation He wants to do all the heavy lifting. Literally, just look at the cross.
This lent has illuminated all my weaknesses which has been discouraging. But as Michelle from the The Abiding Together Podcast put it “discouragement is trust in yourself”. When I said I wanted a soft heart of flesh this is not what I meant. I am straight up WEAK and in the absence of my routine I allowed my flesh to control the time I gave to the Lord and allowed my self imposed expectations from the Lord to define my success in sainthood and holiness. I was putting my trust in what I could achieve this Lent, to obtain some distorted definition of holiness, rather than humbly trusting that God’s power is perfected in my weakness because it is precisely that weakness that allows Him to sanctify me. (2 Corinthians 13:4)
I have been trying, and doing, and striving all Lent trying to achieve holiness, rather than allowing it to transform me, and instead of turning my heart to something malleable like clay that can be built up, by my own accord, I have made it as soft as sand that only further pulls me down into temptations and self-seeking. Both soft, but one is pure, while the other counterfeit.
Holiness is not trying or doing. It is BEING like God. While there are objective virtues and vices that are inherently ungodly and godly. Being like God will manifest in people in different ways because of our own unique blueprint, struggles, experiences, and gifts. So while Lent for one might look light doing a super intense fast as an act of surrender, Lent for another person might look like resting in the Lord because that is the greater act of surrender and sacrifice for them rather than DOING. In accordance with the will of God both are holy. It’s like Saint Therese said how she wished she could just have an elevator that would take her to heaven. Theres nothing you can do in an elevator but be lifted. You’re not the one pulling yourself up. Give the Lord the space and time to do the hard work in your heart, rather than doing all the things you think will do the work for Him.
Have you ever been scared to desire sainthood or holiness because you think the desire is vain? I confessed this to my priest once. I told him that I wanted to be a saint so badly, but I didn’t know if that was a vain desire. I was so overjoyed when I read in my Lenten book that Saint Therese had also experienced this internal battle. My priest told me I was overthinking it. Classic. He said to keep up the routines that bring me closer to God, that holiness and sainthood would naturally follow and if there actually was any vanity in my desire it would be purified through the time spent with God. The thing about Saints is they’re saints before they’re dead. Saints are made here during their time on earth. It is just through death that we recognize them more clearly. I think that’s what ultimate holiness is and what the Saints caught onto. Holiness is death to your own striving and simply allowing Christ to do the heavy lifting or “elevating” if you will, on our behalf. The only thing we need to do, like Saint Therese so often talked about, is become little enough to be lifted.
With Heart, Ellie
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