I don’t know if people see Jesus when they look at me. On many days, I’m pretty sure they don’t.
We are being remade. We are to believe in this. I just got done with a thought exercise of trying to honestly identify what changes I have seen in my life and in my nature that might be attributed to the Holy Spirit, the one who performs this remaking. I cataloged a brief list of the changes. Yet as I looked at the meager inventory and considered sharing it with others, I worried that I was insulting my Savior with faint praise. What if, actually, I am not really that much changed at all?
Some writers have seen similar shortcomings in the body of Christ overall. Os Guiness wrote in The Call about an Australian business leader sharing his faith with a Japanese CEO. The response from the CEO was dismissive: “Whenever I meet a Buddhist leader, I meet a holy man in touch with another world. Whenever I meet a Christian leader, I meet a manager at home only in this world like I am.”
Francis Chan writes in a similar vein in Forgotten God. “What disturbs me most is when we’re not really bothered that God living in us has not made much of a noticeable difference,” he says. “Most churchgoers are content to find a bit of peace rather than a ‘peace of God, which surpasses all understanding’ (Philippians 4:7). We want just enough peace to survive the week (or perhaps even the day).”
One more Christian author, Oswald Chambers, is unflinching in seeing a possible meaning of this. “That is not salvation, that is conversion,” he says. “I do not think it is too sweeping to say that the majority of nominal Christians are of this order; their eyes are opened, but they have received nothing.”
I wish to take nothing away from the challenge of what Mr. Chambers is saying. But I also note this verse, 2 Corinthians 3:18:
But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image ... just as by the Spirit of the Lord.
We are, in the end, being transformed into the image of Jesus—into precisely the person Jesus would be if he were you or me. That being the case, we shouldn’t compare ourselves to other people. We shouldn’t compare ourselves to other people’s expectations. The only comparison we should make is between our own self and Jesus Christ. Of course we will fall short in this comparison (Romans 3:23), but when this is the only comparison we make, then there is no condemnation (Romans 8:1).
As believers in Christ, each of us has a common calling that is also unique. We are to love other people. We are to share the gospel message. That means we are to remain connected to other people—invested in them. This makes the nature of the calling unique to every individual, because each of us is unique not just in how we are gifted, but also in whom we will meet.
Recall that Jesus came to earth for the benefit of human beings. Recall that he put on human flesh, lived within the world’s ways, and spoke in the world’s languages. His mission required this. Our mission is nearly the same as his.
Seeking to measure the extent to which we are externally and visibly transformed is legitimate—we have been told that we will be changed. But we are being changed from inside, by a Spirit who dwells within. Seeking entirely after visible change might therefore miss the point—because we are not to be changed for change’s sake. Rather, we who believe in Christ are to remain with other people, and to remain accessible enough to serve them.
Jesus laughed, wept, got tired, got angry, and expressed exasperation. He was one of us. This should be a comfort as we seek to be one with him.
The outward change we are seeking is not the whole story, and it’s also not the end of the story. How great is the change that is building, the change whose power will be revealed? How extensive is the change within you, the change that you do not (yet) see?
We are being remade. We are to believe in this. I just got done with a thought exercise of trying to honestly identify what changes I have seen in my life and in my nature that might be attributed to the Holy Spirit, the one who performs this remaking. I cataloged a brief list of the changes. Yet as I looked at the meager inventory and considered sharing it with others, I worried that I was insulting my Savior with faint praise. What if, actually, I am not really that much changed at all?
Some writers have seen similar shortcomings in the body of Christ overall. Os Guiness wrote in The Call about an Australian business leader sharing his faith with a Japanese CEO. The response from the CEO was dismissive: “Whenever I meet a Buddhist leader, I meet a holy man in touch with another world. Whenever I meet a Christian leader, I meet a manager at home only in this world like I am.”
Francis Chan writes in a similar vein in Forgotten God. “What disturbs me most is when we’re not really bothered that God living in us has not made much of a noticeable difference,” he says. “Most churchgoers are content to find a bit of peace rather than a ‘peace of God, which surpasses all understanding’ (Philippians 4:7). We want just enough peace to survive the week (or perhaps even the day).”
One more Christian author, Oswald Chambers, is unflinching in seeing a possible meaning of this. “That is not salvation, that is conversion,” he says. “I do not think it is too sweeping to say that the majority of nominal Christians are of this order; their eyes are opened, but they have received nothing.”
I wish to take nothing away from the challenge of what Mr. Chambers is saying. But I also note this verse, 2 Corinthians 3:18:
But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image ... just as by the Spirit of the Lord.
We are, in the end, being transformed into the image of Jesus—into precisely the person Jesus would be if he were you or me. That being the case, we shouldn’t compare ourselves to other people. We shouldn’t compare ourselves to other people’s expectations. The only comparison we should make is between our own self and Jesus Christ. Of course we will fall short in this comparison (Romans 3:23), but when this is the only comparison we make, then there is no condemnation (Romans 8:1).
As believers in Christ, each of us has a common calling that is also unique. We are to love other people. We are to share the gospel message. That means we are to remain connected to other people—invested in them. This makes the nature of the calling unique to every individual, because each of us is unique not just in how we are gifted, but also in whom we will meet.
Recall that Jesus came to earth for the benefit of human beings. Recall that he put on human flesh, lived within the world’s ways, and spoke in the world’s languages. His mission required this. Our mission is nearly the same as his.
Seeking to measure the extent to which we are externally and visibly transformed is legitimate—we have been told that we will be changed. But we are being changed from inside, by a Spirit who dwells within. Seeking entirely after visible change might therefore miss the point—because we are not to be changed for change’s sake. Rather, we who believe in Christ are to remain with other people, and to remain accessible enough to serve them.
Jesus laughed, wept, got tired, got angry, and expressed exasperation. He was one of us. This should be a comfort as we seek to be one with him.
The outward change we are seeking is not the whole story, and it’s also not the end of the story. How great is the change that is building, the change whose power will be revealed? How extensive is the change within you, the change that you do not (yet) see?
