Holy Until He Comes

Over the last several weeks, we have been living inside Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians under this theme, “Until He Comes.” We began with “Waiting for the Son,” where Paul reminded us that the Christian life is lived with our faces turned toward the future. Then we talked about “Grieving with Hope.” Paul did not tell Christians not to grieve; he told them not to grieve as people who have no hope, because death does not get the final word. Last week the word was “Stay Awake.” You are children of the light, children of the day, so live now in the light of the Day that is coming. And today Paul brings us to the closing movement: if Jesus is coming, what kind of people are we supposed to become while we wait? Paul’s answer is simple and demanding: live holy until He comes.

For several weeks we've lived inside Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians, under one theme: Until He Comes. We started in chapter 1 with Waiting for the Son - the Christian life lived with our faces turned toward what's coming.

What strikes me is how practical Paul becomes. He tells them how to treat one another. Respect those who labor among you. Be at peace. Encourage the fainthearted. Help the weak. Be patient. Do not repay evil for evil. Pursue what is good. Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in all circumstances. Do not quench the Spirit. Test everything. Hold fast to what is good.

Then Grieving with Hope, from chapter 4. Paul doesn't tell grieving Christians to stop grieving. He tells them not to grieve like people with no hope (4:13), because death doesn't get the last word.

Last week: Stay Awake, from 5:1-11. You are children of light, children of the day - so live now like the Day is already dawning. Today Paul closes the letter with one question: if Jesus is coming, what kind of people are we supposed to become while we wait? His answer, in 5:12-24, is simple and demanding. Live holy until he comes.

Watch how practical Paul gets. Respect those who labor among you. Be at peace. Encourage the fainthearted. Help the weak. Be patient. Do not repay evil for evil. Pursue what is good. Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in all circumstances. Do not quench the Spirit. Test everything. Hold fast to what is good. More than a dozen commands in eleven verses (5:12-22). This is Paul, holding a young church by the shoulders and telling them exactly how to live.

It almost sounds like Paul is teaching this young church the grammar of a new language.

Read it closely and it sounds like something else. Paul is teaching this young church the grammar of a new language.

The mother tongue

All of us learned a native tongue before we knew grammar existed. Nobody sat us down at two years old and explained nouns and verbs. We listened. We watched. We repeated. We picked up how the people around us talked when they were happy, angry, afraid, hurt. The language got inside us. We stopped thinking about the rules. We just spoke.

All of us learned a native tongue before we ever knew there was such a thing as grammar. Nobody sat us down at two years old and explained nouns and verbs. We listened. We watched. We repeated. We learned how the people around us spoke when they were happy, angry, afraid, or hurt. Eventually the language got inside us. We stopped thinking about the rules. We just spoke.

But learning another language is different. First, you must think about every word. You translate in your head. You search for vocabulary. You speak with an accent.

Learning a second language works differently. You think about every word first. You translate in your head. You hunt for vocabulary. You speak with an accent.

I wonder if that is what Paul is doing here. The Thessalonians already knew a language. They knew the grammar of power, retaliation, fear, status, self-protection, getting even. Then they met Jesus, and God began teaching them another language—the language of the kingdom, the language of Jesus.

That's what Paul is doing here. The Thessalonians already had a native tongue - the grammar of power, retaliation, fear, status, self-protection, getting even. Then they met Jesus, and God started teaching them a second language: the language of the kingdom.

Until he comes, the church is the family where the Spirit teaches us that language until it becomes native. We learn to sound like Jesus by practicing his words and his character, every day, until we stop translating.

And until He comes, the church becomes the family where the Spirit teaches us the native tongue of the world that is coming. Church is not simply where we hear information about Jesus. It is where we learn to sound like Jesus by practicing His words and character daily.

The family that teaches it

The Family That Teaches It

Paul begins with leaders. Respect those who labor among you, who are over you in the Lord and admonish you. Notice that Paul’s first word about leadership is labor. Christian leadership is not celebrity or status. It is work, care, guidance, service. And Paul says leaders are over you “in the Lord.” Those words both give authority and limit authority. The pastor is not the Lord. The leader does not own the church. Jesus owns the church. Honor good leaders, but never confuse the servant with the Savior.

Paul begins with leaders (5:12-13). Respect those who labor among you, who are over you in the Lord and admonish you. Paul's first word about leadership is labor. Christian leadership means work - care, guidance, service, not celebrity or status. Paul anchors that authority with three words: "in the Lord." Those words give leaders real authority and limit it in the same breath.

Then Paul turns to the whole church. Admonish the disorderly. Encourage the fainthearted. Help the weak. Be patient with everyone. That means pastoral care is not something we outsource to pastors. The whole church carries responsibility for the whole church.

Jesus owns the church. The pastor works for him. Honor your leaders. Never confuse the servant with the Savior.

And notice that Paul does not tell us to treat everyone the same. Some people need warning. Some need encouragement. Some need support. Love pays enough attention to know what this person needs.

Then Paul turns to the whole congregation (5:14). Admonish the disorderly. Encourage the fainthearted. Help the weak. Be patient with everyone. Pastoral care isn't a job title. It belongs to the whole church.

I love the language Paul uses for helping the weak. It carries the idea of holding onto someone-staying close and supporting them through their struggles. This challenges us to reflect on how we can intentionally practice patience and support, especially when it's inconvenient or slow.

Paul doesn't tell us to treat everyone the same way. Some people need a warning. Some need encouragement. Some need support. Love pays attention long enough to know which one a person needs right now.

The word Paul uses for "help the weak" carries the image of holding on - staying close, gripping someone, not letting go while they struggle. Paul doesn't say pray for the weak from a distance. He says hold onto them. What good is your strength if you never spend it holding someone else up?

But Paul says, hold onto them. What is the use of strength if we never use it to support the weak?

Then one instruction for everybody: be patient with everyone. Different people need different care. Everybody needs patience.

And then he gives one instruction for everybody: be patient with everyone. Different people need different care, but everybody needs patience.

The grammar of the kingdom

Paul writes, "See that no one repays evil for evil" (5:15). We already know that language. You hurt me, I hurt you. You embarrass me, I embarrass you. You come after me, I come after you harder. Retaliation is one of the most natural languages a human being ever speaks.

The Grammar of the Kingdom

It may be your first language. It cannot stay your kingdom language. "Always seek to do good to one another and to everyone." Pursue it. Chase it down. Go looking for the good you can do today.

Then Paul says, “See that no one repays evil for evil.” Now that is a language we already know. You hurt me, I hurt you. You embarrass me, I embarrass you. You come after me, I come after you harder. Retaliation is one of the most natural languages human beings speak.

The world trains us to pursue payback. Jesus trains us to pursue good.

Then Paul gives three short commands, almost like grammar drills (5:16-18):

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.

But Paul says that may be your first language; it cannot remain your kingdom language. “Do not repay evil for evil, but always pursue what is good.” Pursue it. Chase after it. Go looking for the good you can do.

Practice them until they sink in. Paul is writing to people who know suffering. Rejoicing doesn't erase the pain. It sits inside the pain and still says Christ is Lord. Sometimes joy is a song in a minor key. "This hurts, and Christ is still Lord." "I am grieving, and Christ is still Lord." "The night is dark, and morning is still coming."

The world teaches us to pursue payback. Jesus teaches us to pursue good. Then Paul gives them what sounds like a few grammar rules: “Rejoice always.” “Pray without ceasing.” “Give thanks in all circumstances.” Rejoice. Pray. Give thanks.

Pray without ceasing means staying turned toward God - prayer as posture, not just an event. Give thanks in all circumstances doesn't mean every circumstance is good. Some things are evil. Some things are painful. Even there, we say it: God hasn't abandoned us. God is faithful. Grace is still at work.

Don't quench the teacher

Then Paul says, "Do not quench the Spirit" (5:19). The image shifts from language to fire. Don't put out what God is doing among you. He adds immediately: don't despise prophecies, test everything, hold fast to what is good (5:20-21).

Practice these until they sink in. And remember, Paul is writing to people who know suffering. Rejoicing doesn't mean ignoring pain, but finding Christ's presence amid it. Joy can be a quiet confidence that Christ remains Lord even in hardship.

That balance matters. Paul says stay open, and test carefully. Some churches douse every spark with water. Others see every spark and call it fire from heaven. Paul permits neither. A Spirit-filled church is neither gullible nor cynical.

Sometimes joy is a song played in a minor key. “This hurts, and Christ is still Lord.” “I am grieving, and Christ is still Lord.” “The night is dark, but Morning is still coming.”

Testing matters because human hands touch everything, even the gifts of the Spirit. Every gift moves through a person, and every person carries conscious and unconscious needs and patterns that can bend even a good gift out of shape. That's honesty about how gifts travel through broken people.

Testing implies a standard of measure. In High School I had to take the SAT. We were measured against thousands of other students, against a fixed standard, to predict how we will do in college coursework. Nobody grades us by our own opinion of ourselves. The score means something because the standard sits outside of us.

“Pray without ceasing” means living continually turned toward God. Prayer becomes our orientation. And “give thanks in all circumstances” does not mean calling every circumstance good. Some things are evil and painful. But even there we can say: God has not abandoned us. God is faithful. Grace is still at work.

Spiritual gifts get measured the same way. What's the standard? Scripture.

The Bible gives us the norms by which we test our doctrine and our practice. Our interpretations will differ but everything gets tested against the Scriptures, not against our preferences, our feelings, or how spiritual something seems to us in the moment.

Does it agree with Scripture?

Does it look like Jesus?

Does it produce love?

Does it build up the body?

Does it move people toward truth, mercy, holiness, courage, and Christlikeness?

Testing reveals what is good and what is evil. Once it does, Paul gives us two verbs:

Don’t Quench the Teacher

Hold fast what is good. Abstain from every form of evil. (5:21-22)

Then Paul says, “Do not quench the Spirit.” Now the image changes from language to fire. Do not put out what God is doing among you. Paul immediately adds: do not despise prophecies, test everything, hold fast to what is good.

Hold fast to the good you find. Let go of every form of the evil, however it dresses itself up. Discernment means recognizing what's good enough to keep.

Fluent in Jesus

That balance matters. Paul does not say, “Believe everything spiritual.” He also does not say, “Distrust everything spiritual.” He says: stay open, and test carefully. Some churches douse every spark with water. Other churches see every spark and call it fire from heaven.

Now let us step back and listen to the language Paul has been teaching: respect, peace, encouragement, support, patience, no revenge, pursue good, rejoice, pray, give thanks, welcome the Spirit, discern, hold fast.

What does that language sound like? It sounds like Jesus. That's holiness - belonging so completely to God that the character of Jesus begins to appear in us.

Jesus encourages the fainthearted. Jesus holds the weak. Jesus is patient. Jesus refuses retaliation. Jesus pursues our good. Jesus prays. Jesus gives thanks. Jesus lives in the Spirit. Jesus is holy.

Paul permits neither. A Spirit-filled church is neither gullible nor cynical. Test everything. Does it agree with Scripture? Does it look like Jesus? Does it produce love? Does it build up the body? Does it move us toward truth, mercy, holiness, courage, and Christlikeness?

This gets personal for me. There are still parts of Jesus' language I speak with an accent. Patience doesn't always come naturally to me. There are people I've found easier to critique than to pray for. There are times I've wanted to fix the weak instead of hold onto them.

And when you find what is good, hold onto it. Because discernment is not the art of distrusting everything. The goal is not to become a professional critic. The goal is to recognize what is good enough to keep.

After all these years of following Jesus, I still have to translate sometimes. But grace keeps working. The Spirit keeps teaching. Slowly, forgiveness gets less foreign. Prayer gets more natural. Patience gets less forced. Love gets less calculated. Jesus gets into our bones.

He who calls you is faithful

Look at verse 23. This is where Paul answers the question every honest Christian eventually asks: if holiness is a language, how do I ever become fluent? I hear the commands. I practice the vocabulary. Some days my accent is still thick, and the translating never stops.

Fluent in Jesus

Now step back and listen to the language Paul has been teaching. Respect. Peace. Encouragement. Support. Patience. No revenge. Pursue good. Rejoice. Pray. Give thanks. Welcome the Spirit. Discern. Hold fast.

Paul ends the passage with a prayer, not another command:

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. (5:23-24)

What does that language sound like? It sounds like Jesus. That is holiness. Holiness is not weirdness. Holiness is not superiority. Holiness is belonging so completely to God that the character of Jesus begins to appear in us.

Look at who is doing the work in that sentence, it’s God. "The God of peace himself" sanctifies you. Paul spends eleven verses teaching the Thessalonians how to practice this language, then closes by naming who actually makes it native. God does. You practice the words. God does the sanctifying.

"Sanctify you completely" - wholly, through and through, nothing left untouched. "Spirit and soul and body" - all of you. Paul prays for you whole: your mind, your desires, your habits, your body, your relationships, kept blameless until Jesus comes.

Jesus encourages the fainthearted. Jesus holds the weak. Jesus is patient. Jesus refuses retaliation. Jesus pursues our good. Jesus prays. Jesus gives thanks. Jesus lives in the Spirit. Jesus is holy.

Then the sentence that should hold every anxious Christian steady: "He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it." Paul doesn't hedge. He will surely do it. Fluency in the language of Jesus is not a project finished by sheer discipline. It's a promise God finishes, because he's faithful.

Until he comes

And this is where the text gets personal for me, because there are still parts of Jesus' language that I speak with an accent. There are moments when patience does not come naturally. There are people I have found easier to critique than to pray for. There are times I have wanted to fix the weak instead of hold onto them.

So here's the whole letter in one line: live ready until he comes. Turn from idols. Serve the living and true God. Work by faith. Labor in love. Endure in hope. Receive Scripture as God's own word. Stand firm in affliction. Walk in holiness. Grow in love for each other. Live responsibly in front of outsiders. Comfort the grieving. Stay awake and sober. Build one another up. Rejoice. Pray. Give thanks. Test everything. Hold fast to what's good. Abstain from evil. Be sanctified, wholly - spirit, soul, and body. Wait for Christ.

This letter calls Christians to prepare faithfully for the Lord's coming. For the faithful, that coming is hope. For the careless, it's a warning.

Sometimes I wonder why, after all these years of following Jesus, I still have to translate. But grace keeps working. The Spirit keeps teaching. And slowly, forgiveness becomes less foreign. Prayer becomes more natural. Patience becomes less forced. Love becomes less calculated. Jesus gets into our bones.

Revelation 22:20 ends the whole Bible with a promise and an answer:

"Surely I am coming soon." "Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!" (ESV)

That should be the heartbeat of every faithful church - living in such a way that we can pray those words and mean them.

Until He comes, that is what God is doing. The world speaks revenge. We learn forgiveness. The world abandons the weak. We hold onto them. The world speaks despair. We learn hope. The world speaks anxiety. We pray. The world says believe everything. We discern. The world says believe nothing. We hold fast to what is good.

First Thessalonians teaches us to be ready until he comes. Practice the language. Trust the one who is teaching it to you.

Until He comes, the church is the family where the Spirit teaches us the mother tongue of the kingdom. So, practice it. Speak it. Live it. And when you catch yourself still speaking with an accent, keep learning because the language of holiness is the language of Jesus.

Be Holy until he comes. Amen.

And until He comes, the Spirit is making us fluent. Holy until He comes. Amen.