The Holy Kiss 2: How Love Protects Like a Warrior

When Love Strides in Wearing Armour

We often think of a holy kiss as something tender – warm hugs, quiet prayers, kind words at awkward dinners. And yes, that counts.

But in Scripture, love often shows up like a warrior. Not with sarcasm or distance, but with steel-trimmed loyalty.

It doesn’t just hold your hand; it steps in wearing armour. The kind that stands between you and a freight train, shouting truth you don’t want but desperately need. This is how love protects: not with sentiment, but with unwavering allegiance.

The Holy Kiss as Covenant, Not Theatre

When Paul says, “Greet one another with a holy kiss” (Romans 16:16), he’s not inviting you into emotional theatre. He’s calling you into covenant, into an affection that refuses to sit on a shelf but insists on getting involved. The holy kiss is a symbol of allegiance, and that allegiance does not retreat when the ground gets shaky.

What Holy Love Does

Holy love, it turns out, isn’t passive. It doesn’t withdraw when the world unravels. Rather, it steps up. It shields. It steadies. It knows the weak spots but doesn’t take notes for later use. It’s not interested in performance but in perseverance. It’s the sort of love that doesn’t care if it’s convenient; it only asks, “Are you hurting?” and then moves to comfort, encourage and exhort.

Jesus never defined love in slogans. He defined it in scars. He didn’t whisper, “Love you lots” from a distance.

He knelt,

washed feet,

silenced accusers,

and died with no guarantees of appreciation.

That’s not sentiment. That’s covenantal protection.

That’s a holy kiss that tastes of blood and salt, not chocolate and roses.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

More Shield Than Smooch

So how does Jesus love?

He confronts demons.

He heals sickness and disease.

He breaks social codes for the sake of outcasts.

He lets Himself be arrested to protect the guilty.

He forgives before we know we’ve sinned.

This is affection with a backbone.

This is the holy kiss of Christ—more shield than smooch.

Dirty Hands, Steady Heart

Paul, of course, never misses a chance to complicate our comfort. In Galatians 6:1–2, he says:

“Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself. Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.”

Translation? Holy love doesn’t peek into someone’s crisis and make a polite exit.

It enters the rubble. It risks awkwardness and missteps.

It restores with dirty hands and a steady heart.

It walks into broken spaces with rolled-up sleeves and questions that matter.

It’s the kiss of Christ replicated in the everyday mess of community.

Protective Proximity

The holy kiss, then, isn’t about a public display of affection. It’s about protective proximity. It’s getting close enough to carry someone’s grief without turning it into gossip. It’s saying, “I’m here, and I’m staying.” It means sitting through another story you’ve already heard three times, not because you enjoy repetition, but because that story matters to the one telling it.

This kind of affection isn’t convenient. But it shows up anyway.

• It waits through the silence.
• It prays when no one knows.
• It doesn’t weaponize your weakness when you hand it the ammunition.
• It sends soup instead of screenshots.
• It sits in silence when answers would only scratch the surface.
• It shows up with tissues and time, not theological lectures.

The holy kiss is loyalty that smells like lived-in humanity. Bad breath, unwashed hair, and all. Not airbrushed discipleship, but real-life endurance with bucket loads of grace. It’s compassion that doesn’t require tidy outcomes.

Relief, Not Dread

Imagine walking into church without dread, but relief. Why? Because someone there sees your soul and treats it like treasure. Not with kid gloves, but with a sword drawn beside you. Because someone’s presence says, “You don’t have to impress me, I’m glad you’re here.”

That’s the holy kiss.

It doesn’t cringe.

It doesn’t bail.

It doesn’t record your struggle to include in its next prayer circle.

It stays when it’s hard,

listens when it’s awkward,

and loves when it’s not easy.

The Holy Kiss as Kingdom Loyalty

Let’s be honest. Most church greetings feel like emotional speed dating. You get a handshake, maybe a slightly moist smile, and then you’re back to negotiating whose toddler took whose juice box. Or worse, you’re caught in a hug with someone whose name you definitely forgot.

And then here comes Paul: “Greet one another with a holy kiss.”

It sounds absurd. Intimate. Risky. Like something that should come with a waiver and maybe a breath mint. Like something violating current health guidelines.

But Paul isn’t suggesting sentiment. He’s issuing a trumpet call. The holy kiss is a wartime greeting: “I’m fighting with you and for you.”

Allegiance at the Altar

Holy love isn’t the side hug of casual friendliness. It’s a declaration of loyalty. A sacred collision of affection and allegiance. It’s the biblical version of locking eyes across the trenches and saying, “I’ve got your flank.”

Psalm 2 adds even more dramatic flair:

“Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest He be angry…”

This isn’t a Hallmark moment. It’s a royal summons.

The kiss here is faithfulness.

Pledge.

Obedience.

It’s bending the knee to the King with lips and life.

It’s public, visible allegiance.

So, when Paul, disciple of the crucified King, commands us to kiss one another with a holy kiss, to welcome each other in the same spirit, He’s talking about shared submission. Shared loyalty. Shared standing-in-the-gap kind of faith.

Love That Remains Faithful

This love says:

• I’ll carry your weakness.
• I’ll hold the line when you’re too tired.
• I won’t confuse your struggle with a character flaw.
• I’ll risk awkwardness to stay close when you’re falling apart.
• I’ll forgive without apology.

We live in a culture fluent in detachment. We ghost each other with ease, wave from across pews, offer disclaimers instead of commitments. But Paul knew a different world. A church under fire. A gospel that cost lives.

And the holy kiss? It was covenant in affirmation. It said: “I am with you. I am for you.”

Not because you’re easy to love. But because He loved me first.

Don’t Worry, You Don’t Have to Kiss Anyone

“We don’t do kisses in my church,” you might say. We do head nods and awkward coffee small talk.

Fine.

But your hello should carry the same weight: You matter. I’m committed to you.

The holy kiss is not performative. It’s persistent. It shows up not to be seen, but to see, to notice the tears behind her mascara, or the humour masking the fight in his jaw. To ask the second question after, ‘How are you?’, and then stay for the answer.

You don’t have to start greeting your siblings with kisses. But you do need to show up with loyalty in your heart and hands.

It Starts at the Throne

Furthermore, the holy kiss doesn’t start in the foyer. It starts at the throne.

With kissing the Son. With bending low and vowing to serve Him alone. With laying down your defences long before you lay down your life.

From there, it moves outward, to brothers and sisters who smell like hard days and unmet prayers. To the ones who annoy you. And the ones you forgot to pray for but who prayed for you. To the church greeter with the too-loud voice and the child with sticky fingers. To the person still trying to believe God hasn’t forsaken them.

So then, greet your siblings. Not with a holy cringe. But with a holy promise:

• I see you.
• I honour what God is doing in you.
• I’m not backing down.
• I’m not scrolling away.
• I’m not checking out.

This is a love that protects. And in the family of faith, we are called to nothing less.

Kiss like a guardian.
Love like a shield.
Stay like a vow.

Until next time, kiss like a warrior.

❣️May your heart grow ever more attuned to the One who never takes His eyes off you.

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If you missed Part 1 of the Holy Kiss you can read it here.

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