Grace That Forms Holy People

Grace That Will Not Let Us Go

Most of us know the relief of hearing the words, “It’s finished.” The project is done. The house is built. The paperwork is filed. The surgery is over. Finished feels safe. Finished feels settled. But we also know the frustration of the opposite—when something is almost finished. The room that’s been painted but never trimmed. The repair that “works,” but not quite right but is “good enough”. The project that looks done from a distance, but up close still needs work. Here’s the tension we don’t like to admit: We are very comfortable living in the space called almost finished. The greatest danger to our faith is not failure - its settling for “good enough” when grace is still at work.

And if we’re honest, many of us treat our faith the same way. We’re forgiven. We’re saved. We’re churchgoing. And somewhere along the way, we quietly assume that means God is mostly done with us. But Philippians 1:6 confronts that assumption head-on: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion…” Not maintain. Not preserve. Not leave as is. Complete. And that word should unsettle us—because it means God is not finished yet.

Naming the Tension

This is where tension starts to rise. Because most of us are perfectly comfortable with a grace that forgives us. But we’re far less comfortable with a grace that keeps working on us. We love grace at the beginning of faith. We get nervous when grace shows up in the middle. Because sanctifying grace doesn’t just comfort—it forms. It doesn’t just reassure—it reshapes. And here’s the hard truth we have to face: If God is still working, then something in us still needs to change. Not because we aren’t loved. Not because we aren’t saved. But because love always moves toward holiness. That’s why Hebrews 12:14 doesn’t whisper its command: “Strive… for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” Not admire holiness. Not agree with holiness. Not talk about holiness. Pursue it.

That word “strive” in the Greek means to pursue—to chase. It carries the idea of active, intentional movement toward something that does not come easily. Which means holiness doesn’t happen accidentally. You don’t trip and fall into holiness. You don’t take a wrong turn and end up there. You can’t drift into it. And it doesn’t happen passively. It certainly doesn’t happen if we’ve decided we’re already finished. When I hear the word pursue, I’m reminded of the old movie Smokey and the Bandit. Throughout the whole film, the sheriff is always in what he calls “hot pursuit.” Sirens blaring. Lights flashing. Pedal to the floor. He’s fully committed—focused, determined, relentless.

Now, he never quite catches the Bandit—but no one ever doubts that he’s chasing him. That’s the picture Hebrews gives us. Holiness is not something we casually hope for. It’s something we actively pursue. Not half-heartedly. Not occasionally. Not when it’s convenient. With intention. With effort. With our whole selves pointed in that direction. And this is where we often run into trouble—when we decide we’re good enough. When we think we’ve checked all the boxes. When faith starts looking polished on the outside—volunteered enough, prayed enough, given enough—without any real transformation happening on the inside. But Scripture refuses to let us confuse appearance with pursuit. Grace saves us instantly. But grace shapes us continually. And if we’re not pursuing holiness, we’re not cooperating with grace—no matter how long we’ve been in the church or how familiar the language feels.

Lent begins with an uncomfortable truth: God is not finished with us yet. We like to think of faith as something we’ve already settled—something we’ve figured out, committed to, checked off. We know when we were saved. We remember when we joined the church. We can point to moments when grace showed up clearly in our lives. But Paul refuses to let us freeze grace in the past. When he writes, “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion,” he is speaking to people who already believe, already belong, already follow. And he’s reminding them—and us—that grace is not just what got us started. Grace is what is still at work.

That’s why Lent matters. Lent is the season when the Church admits, out loud and together, that there are still places in us God is shaping. Lent slows us down enough to notice what we usually rush past—habits we excuse, attitudes we tolerate, patterns we defend. It gives us space to stop pretending that growth just happens on its own. Because sanctifying grace—the grace that forms us—is not automatic. It is offered freely, but it is never forced.

Paul says God began the work. That means grace had an intention from the start. Salvation was never meant to be a stopping point; it was meant to be the doorway into a changed life. Lent reminds us that grace is not just about where we stand with God, but about who we are becoming before Him. And this is where Lent often pushes back against us. We would rather celebrate grace than submit to it. We would rather talk about forgiveness than confront formation. We would rather remember who we were than wrestle with who we are now. But Lent asks a harder question: What is God still working on in you?

Not in theory. Not someday. Not in someone else. In you—right now. This is not a season for shame. It is a season for honesty. Because the same God who began the work is faithful to complete it—but He will not complete what we refuse to surrender. Lent is not about earning holiness; it is about clearing space for grace to do its forming work. And that leads us to the heart of the matter: Scripture does not treat holiness as optional. It names it as the purpose toward which grace is moving us.

Grace does move us and within us, it can lead us down roads we never thought we would find ourselves. It changes who we are to our core, it can overcome every obstacle and calm every storm but we have to be in a place to receive it. Grace is freely given but often not well received. We want the grace without the change. The grace without confession and the grace without surrender. Until we can surrender ourselves to God we will never know the true joy it is to be a child of God and experience all that God has for us. We will never know an unconditional love, forgiveness, never know what having hope for tomorrow feels like.

This season of Lent is a time where we should look at ourselves, hold up a mirror to our life and see our life for what it is. What is there in your life that doesn’t look like God? What is the action you have in your life that doesn’t look like God? What is the attitude we still accept that does not look like the God that created you?

God didn’t provide salvation and a saving grace for you to be “almost Holy”. He didn’t redeem us only to leave us partially formed. Grace does not rush transformation and as we continue to grow, that growth often feels uncomfortable because it’s honest. Lent invites us to stop pretending we are finished.

2225 As the mother’s womb holds us for nine months, making us ready, not for the womb itself, but for life, just so, through our lives, we are making ourselves ready for another birth.… Therefore, look forward without fear to that appointed hour—the last hour of the body, but not of the soul.… That day, which you fear as being the end of all things, is the birthday of your eternity.

Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Roman Moralist and Tragic Poet)

Lent is a holy time, holiness is the reason it exists. It strips away distractions so we can see God more clearly. Holiness is not about prefection, it is alignment. It is about direction and not arrival. This season forms a people and has always been communal, a holy people bear witness to a holy God. This is the season where we can connect with God, ourselves and each other. We should use this time looking honesty at our life and looking at the things that serve no purpose but to separate us from God and each other. God is committed to finishing what He started but He will not finish what we will not surrender.

Over the last several weeks, we have looked at how we can drift away from God, how love refuses cheap grace, grace is not an alibi and now how grace forms us through intentional surrender. God is not forming perfect individuals - He is forming a holy people. Lent is how the church resists the things that attack it