Holy One of God
Does the thought of God’s holiness frighten or intimidate you? The central promise of Advent is that, just as Jesus came into the world over 2,000 years ago, he will come again. Except it will be different. He came as an infant then. This time, he’ll be coming in all of his glory as the Holy One of God.
In the biblical Christmas stories, there’s a quiet wonder in the way Jesus is introduced to the world. There was nothing remarkable about Jesus’ birth … and, yet, there were shepherds, angels, a star, and other signs.
In Luke’s Gospel, when the angel announces Jesus’ coming, the child is called the “Holy One of God.” That’s a weighty title, one that feels overwhelming. Holiness, in Scripture, has always carried a sense of otherness, divinity, and untouchable perfection. When Israel camped at Sinai, the mountain shook with God’s presence, and the people trembled and drew back in fear. Holiness meant distance. Holiness meant danger. When faced with God’s holiness, the people were forced to acknowledge their unholiness.
And then Advent whispers a different story.
The Holy One of God comes—not as the One who makes the mountains tremble, but in a manger. Not in an unapproachable light, but wrapped in a baby’s clothing. Not with thunder, but with the soft breath of an infant. The same God whose radiance once left Moses glowing now lies in a crib, close enough for shepherds to touch.
It’s staggering, really. At his birth, Jesus was no less holy than the God who met Moses on Sinai… and yet everything about his arrival says, “Do not be afraid.”
Advent reminds us that holiness isn’t meant to intimidate us; it’s meant to invite us to come near.
In Christ, holiness sits at the table with sinners. Holiness hugs children, touches those in need of healing, restores the broken, and calls people by name. The birth of Jesus reframes everything we think we know: we no longer tremble our way to God. God steps toward us.
So if the idea of God’s holiness feels distant, daunting, or beyond reach, hear the gospel’s gentle truth: the Holy One has come close. Holiness took on human form. Holiness knows hunger, laughter, pain, and tears. Holiness walks with us. And holiness welcomes you.
This is the gift of Advent. We don’t fear holiness; we rejoice in it. Because seeing Jesus’ holiness doesn’t make us unworthy; it makes us worthy.
Prayer: Holy One of God, thank you for drawing near in Jesus. Where I feel intimidated, quiet my fears. Where I feel unworthy, remind me of your welcome. Teach me to rest in the nearness of your holiness: a holiness that heals, restores, and embraces. As I walk through this Advent season, open my heart to your presence
and help me draw close with confidence and wonder. Amen.
