“Something Has to Die.”
“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it cannot bear fruit.” Jesus in John 12:24
“We never become really and genuinely our entire and honest selves until we are dead—and not then until we have been dead years and years. People ought to start dead and they would be honest so much earlier.” Mark Twain
Last week I wrote about how small changes can make big differences.
In the spiritual life there is a big difference between “change” and “transformation.”
Change is inevitable; transformation is intentional.
Change is unavoidable; transformation is elective (though the one doing the “electing” is God).
Change happens every day, with or without our participation or initiation; transformation happens with divine intentionality and requires an awareness and response.
Change is often-times a temporary adjustment; transformation is permanent.
Change may have some benefit in this life; transformation benefits us for eternal life.
Change can be focused on surface matters and results in superficiality (It’s like putting on makeup–think of lifestyle modifications); transformation is focused on something so deep that we aren’t even aware of where and how to find it—but when we do, we discover The Source of authenticity and genuine spirituality.
Change requires modification; transformation demands mortification—which is to say death.
I would venture to say that much of religion and religious practices focus on change. Changing behaviors is the most common. Changing habits, perhaps. Changing practices to be, or at least appear, more pious. The practice of religion demands making some kind of external change—even if it is simply becoming part of a new “group” called church—which does very little to effect true transformation.
Transformation demands that something must die. It is a painful and unwelcomed process, for it requires a complete reorientation to how we see ourselves, God, and the world. And it is not meant to be on display, but create some kind of internal dismay and disorientation, which shifts the operating principals by which we live. What used to matter no longer matters. And what matters most is what might not seem to matter at all.
Transformation does not mean that we become living examples of perfect human behavior—that is the realm that Jesus accused the Pharisees of living in—calling them whitewashed tombs. It DOES mean that we become infused with the love of God in Christ, and as a result that love, which takes on the living form of kindness, mercy, graciousness, hospitality, compassion, and joy, becomes integral to how we live, and move, and have our being.
Transformation is an ongoing process in which one never arrives. It is living in the eternal “now” and the “not yet.” Transformation reorients us, at least to some extent, to seeing–and living–through the Divine prism. Here are some examples:
God is no longer “out there”, but “in here.”
Faith is not trying to please or appease God, but rather relishing the fact that God is pleased with us—NO MATTER WHAT.
Prayer is not speaking TO God, as though writing a Christmas list for Santa Claus, but rather listening quietly and silently—soaking in God’s Presence.
Scripture is not a book to study in order to be more knowledgeable ABOUT God (with the result of impressing your friends, neighbors, and other Christians), but rather a Spirit-filled breathing Word that allows us to experience the living God.
Life with God is not about “how to’s” or doing FOR God, but merely being WITH God, and knowing that God is with us—and in us.
In order for this to happen—something has to die. And what is that something? It is not the bad habit or “pet sin” that we think keeps us separated from God. It is something much more important than that. It is our very self. The small self. The egoic self. The surface self which prevents us from experiencing the depth of God’s love in our deepest, most true Self.
What is it that is keeping you from dying to self? Put another way, what is that “something” that needs to die, so that you can truly live?