“Do not be conformed to this world.”
- Paul to the Romans“That I may know him, and the power of his ressurection, and the fellowship of his suffering, that I may be conformed to his death.”
- Paul to the Phillipians
What does it mean to be conformed to Christ, to be conformed to his death rather than being conformed to the world? If I am living– really living– as I ought to be living, as someone who has died to self and lives to Christ, who is transformed instead of conformed, who knows nothing but Christ and him crucified… then the myriad “I’m a Christian…” conversations I’ve been having in the last week are stating the overly-obvious. And if it’s not obvious, then I’m missing it. Again.
Why is it so easy to be conformed to the world, and such a challenge to let go and let myself be conformed to the image of Christ? Why, even knowing the greatness of the riches of God, is it such a continual struggle to let go of myself, my dreams, my way of doing things? Why do I hold so tightly to the things of this life that I know are of no lasting value, instead of reaching out to the One who is greater than this life?
And of course there’s a part of me that wishes it were just that easy, that just doesn’t understand why I struggle so much with what should be simple, obvious choices to die to self and conform to the will of God… why I have such a hard time making the leap of faith that faith demands. That the commitment and surrender and death to self were a one time deal instead of a day by day and moment by moment choice to make. And then, of course, I have to laugh at myself for thinking that following the Crucified should be easy. And of course it’s not… self doesn’t die easily or quietly. No, it begs and pleads for its life… making reasoned arguments and emotional ones, and arguing against being made a fool for Christ. And I listen. Far, far too often I listen and become Judas, betraying my Lord for own desires. But my desire is to be transformed and conformed, not to this world, but to the suffering of Christ. “I do not think that I have yet laid hold of it, but this one thing I do: forgetting everything that is past and stretching toward what lies ahead with my eyes fixed on the goal I push on to secure the prize of God’s heavenward call in Christ Jesus….” Thank God for grace.
Jennifer,
Good thoughts and questions here. I really like Natalie Grant’s question in “Held”: “If hope is born of suffering, if this is only the beginning, can we not wait for one hour, watching for our Savior?”
I think the real question is whether we actually believe that this life is only the beginning. If we could somehow posture ourselves firmly in that perspective, it would be natural to be like Jesus, I suppose.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what my purpose is, not only on this planet, but in eternity. So many times I look back on instances in my life and wonder why I didn’t go all out, or why I missed so many opportunities, or how I let so many good intentions fall to the ground. I hope that after I’ve vacated this body, I will not be thinking the same thing.
Thank you for the encouragement to do better, and I hope you are encouraged yourself!
I agree that it’s a matter of perspective. In the frustratingly rare moments that I actually catch a glimpse of eternity-focused perspective everything in my life almost naturally reorders itself as it should. In the light of eternity, of course I’m going to do God’s will rather than mine, serve rather than be selfish, give rather than take, and love rather than mock. The problem is that I live most of my life from my own perspective, when this particular moment seems like the most important one in creation, and making sure I get what I want when and how I want it becomes impossibly important. The very thing I want to do I do not do, but the thing I hate that I do… because I lost sight of what mattered.