Purity (28/06/2026)
Sarah Hubbard shared with us today about purity — what it really is, why it matters, and why it might be one of the most freeing invitations God extends to us.
Before we get into it, Sarah offered a gentle disclaimer that she thinks is worth passing on: this is a big topic, full of big words, and none of us has it completely figured out. The goal isn’t to pull it all apart like a theologian. The goal is simply to ask the Holy Spirit to illuminate what He wants us to take away — and leave the rest. Come with that attitude as you read.
What is purity, really?
The dictionary definition of purity is “the state or quality of being unmixed, clean, and free from contamination, guilt, or foreign elements.” Sarah’s key insight is that purity isn’t about rule-following or being a “good person.” It’s about having an undivided heart — making God the sole occupier of your heart and mind.
Psalm 24 asks: “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in His holy place?” The answer: “The one who has clean hands and a pure heart.” And Matthew 5:8, from the Beatitudes, says plainly: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
The purpose of purity isn’t good behaviour. It’s to encounter God more fully — to ascend the mountain, to see God. Purity is the pathway to a deeper relationship with Him. The relationship is the goal; purity is how we get there.
The story of Lot’s wife
Sarah took us to Genesis 19 and the story of Lot’s wife. God gave Lot clear instructions: get out of Sodom, don’t look back. His wife looked back — and became a pillar of salt.
We don’t know exactly why she turned. Was she longing for friends left behind? Was she grieving the familiar life she was losing? We can’t know. But what we do see is this: her longing for what was behind her became greater than her trust in God. The path ahead held promise and freedom, but familiarity won out in the end.
Sarah noted something fascinating from psychology: the human brain is wired to gravitate towards the familiar because the familiar equals safe. Unknown triggers uncertainty and can feel like threat. So often we drift back towards old patterns — even unhealthy ones — simply because they’re predictable. Sodom was morally corrupt, but it was familiar. And familiar can feel safe.
When God asks us to leave things behind, He is inviting us into something better — but we sometimes have to make peace with the uncertainty of the path ahead in order to get there.
The book of Haggai
Sarah also drew on Haggai, one of the minor prophets (minor in size, not significance). When Haggai was written, the temple had been destroyed for 70 years and still hadn’t been rebuilt. The priests had rebuilt the altar — the place of purification — but not the temple, the place where God’s presence dwelt. In the New Testament, the switch is flipped: Jesus is the sacrifice, and we become the temple. The Holy Spirit dwells in us.
Sarah suggested that this incompleteness was connected to why the community wasn’t thriving. The altar without the temple was well-intentioned, but incomplete. Purity points to God’s presence; it isn’t the destination by itself.
She used a very ordinary, powerful picture: think of how differently you clean your house when you know a guest is coming. When you live with mess all the time, you become “nose blind” to it — it fades into the background. But when you know someone is coming, you suddenly see everything. God wants us to move from spiritual nose-blindness into a state of consciousness where we welcome the Holy Spirit to highlight the mess, because we know it makes room for our Guest.
So Sarah asks: do we want to be worthy of hosting that presence?
Grace — and something better
Grace says: everything you are is enough. Sarah was clear on that. God has forgiven the worst parts of us, and His grace covers us completely.
But grace isn’t meant to excuse the areas that don’t align with who God is — it’s meant to empower us to change. Purity grows from affection, not discipline. We don’t pursue it to be good; we pursue it because we love God, and when you love someone, you want to be your best for them.
Our culture tells us that comfort is the highest calling — that we should protect ourselves from pain, serve ourselves first, stay comfortable. Jesus said the opposite: take up your cross.