New Selves
Try picturing who and what you might have been if not for Christ intervening in your life. We all have varying degrees of drama in our conversion stories. Mine would not be a testimony fit for a book or movie. I was a good kid and avoided the vices in which many of my generation indulged. Fortunate to be raised in a church-going family, I was open to a personal commitment to Christ when presented with the option at age 16. Nonetheless, I did some of the dumb teenage things dumb teenagers do during my remaining teenage years.
I’d known kids from childhood who were the undisputed troublemakers. By the time I had accepted Christ, some of them had spent years split between juvenile hall and continuation school. A few of these delinquents became bona fide criminals. Then, to my shock, a couple of them sincerely encountered Jesus and experienced dramatic life changes.
Under normal circumstances, the chances of sharing fellowship with one of the hooligans from my past were very low. But in Christ, it happened. It was surreal to discuss Jesus and life circumstances with a guy who I assumed might likely end up incarcerated for life. Yet this unlikely friendship could only result because we were new creatures in Christ.
No matter how extreme, becoming a new person is a miracle. That includes me, despite my snoozer of a conversion story. But it is more than the story of an event. Paul is clear that transformation is a process, and we share responsibility for it.
Yes, Jesus makes us new at rebirth, but we share in the process as we “lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit.” We are to “be renewed in the spirit of [our] mind, and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth” (Ephesians 4:22-24). This transformation takes place over time, takes discipline, and relies on the power of the Holy Spirit.
Although my new self may not appear as radically different as my formerly rowdy brother in Christ’s does, both equally require the death and disposing of the old and putting on the new. Both necessitate a departure from our “former manner of life” (Ephesians 4:22). Unfortunately, my “good kid” history may lull me into believing I’ve got less of me to dispose of than he does. That can be a dangerous perspective. It could lead to a weak, self-righteous brand of faith. Thus, my relatively tame transformation tale might be a handicap to genuine change.
No matter how powerful or paltry our regeneration narratives are, we can all identify aspects of our current lives that belong to our former lives. If you were known as a hoodlum, many of those things might be more obvious. However, it could be subtle: attitudes toward certain people, our words, or areas of pride. But whether it’s obvious or not, consider what might be keeping you from putting on the new self. How much of the old self is holding you back?
An excellent place to start might be with lingering comfort areas from your former life. These habits, mindsets, and choices feel cozy, familiar, and safe but keep you from fully experiencing the new life God intends for you. One illustration I saw recently compared it to going camping in an RV with so many comforts of home that you never go outside, sit by the fire, fish in the stream, or walk through the woods. You “go camping” without camping.
We’ve been given new life in Christ. Fully experiencing it requires new living. So let’s be intentional about it.
“Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices, and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him”
—Colossians 3:9-10