“Greet ye one another with an holy kiss.” –1 Cor. 16:20.

Here is a church where the brethren are at war with each other.

Believers are into camps around favourite teachers.

Lawsuits are hauling members of the same congregation before pagan judges.

The Lord’s Supper has turned into a meal that exposed their divisions, and spiritual gifts are being worn like medals of pride.

False teachers have convinced them that the resurrection was a myth.

The apostle Paul spends 16 chapters correcting all of it.

Then, in a final verse, he gives a command so plain that it surprises: “Greet one another with an holy kiss”

It would be easy to read that as a courteous sign-off.

It is more than that.

The Greek word he uses for ‘kiss’ is philema, drawn from the love of friendship and family.

In the ancient world, a kiss on the cheek was how relatives, close friends, and equals greeted each other.

Paul keeps the custom but adds one word: hagion – holy.

Let your embrace say what words often cannot: “You are part of family in Christ.

The greeting is set apart.

It is not romantic, not hypocritical, and not merely cultural.

This is not the kiss of Judas Iscariot; it is a sign of Christ’s peace.

Nor was this a one-time instruction.

Paul gives the same charge to Rome and to the Thessalonians, and Peter repeats it to the scattered churches of Asia Minor (Rom. 16:16; 1 Thess. 5:26; 1 Pet. 5:14).

It marked the first Christians as something new: a family drawn from Jew and Gentile, slave and free, rich and poor.

Consider where Paul places it.

Just before, in chapter 15, he defends the resurrection, the ground of all Christian hope.

A risen Christ creates a new people, and that people must be seen in how they treat one another.

The greeting was public, shared with the whole assembly.

Early church writings place it before the Lord’s Supper, and men greeted men and women greeted women, keeping it pure and orderly.

Paul also reminds the Corinthians that churches across Asia send their love.

Their quarrels were not a private matter.

They were a scandal before the wider body of Christ.

And the greeting carried a cost.

To offer peace to a brother while holding a grudge against him is to contradict the gospel with your own face.

We are no different from Corinth in this.

Many of us keep one another at arm’s length even within the same congregation.

We nod across the room, shake hands quickly, and say, “Praise the Lord,” while already looking past the person.

We tell ourselves that polite handshakes and faint smiles mean peace.

Meanwhile, quiet grievances sit in the pews with us, and opinions we cannot discuss harden into walls.

Technology has made it worse.

A text message can feel like closeness while costing us nothing.

But reconciliation is not a message you send in social media chat.

It is something you do, in the same room, with a real person.

The gospel has always been bodily. God came in flesh.

Christ was raised in a body. It should not surprise us that he asks his people to love one another in the flesh as well.

No one is asking you to copy first-century manners of kissing people’s cheeks.

A warm embrace or a firm, joyful handshake can carry the same meaning, if it is sincere.

What matters is the intention behind it.

So this Sunday, find someone you have felt distant from. Cross the aisle.

Greet that person with a warm hug.

Let your embrace say what words often cannot: “You are part of family in Christ. I don’t care what tribe you belong to. If you feel as I feel down in my heart, you’re my brother so give me your hand.”