Sometimes we look for elaborate, new, exciting programs or systems to become new people, to cast off old shabby feelings, to become fresh, bright creatures. While there is much wisdom in the world, in great literature, and in inspired music, the fastest, deepest, most effective way to become new creatures—to truly change who we are—is to invite the Lord into our days.
In the medieval ages, back when Arthur was pulling swords out of stones and knights were roaming the landscape in search of a Holy Grail, a group of philosophers became obsessed with an ancient Egyptian science—alchemy. Alchemy was a precursor to chemistry, and the alchemists (as its practitioners were called) believed they could turn common metals into pure gold. Their search centered on the legendary and elusive Philosopher’s Stone—less an actual stone than a chemical substance they believed could enact this transformation, the transforming of the base into the precious.
Not many weeks ago, on the heels of a particularly tender goodbye, I found myself in Isaiah 61, in verses that seem to me alchemical.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. (Isaiah 61:1-3)
These have to be some of the most important verses in written scripture, as they are the ones the Savior chose to read when he was explaining his divine mission to the Jews. After fasting forty days in the wilderness, Jesus returned to Galilee “in the power of the Spirit.” He went from synagogue to synagogue, teaching and being glorified by all who heard (Luke 4:14-15).
When he came to Nazareth though, his hometown, the crowd was not as ready to accept his teachings. So when, in the synagogue, his turn came to read, he turned to these same verses from Isaiah—The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised… (Luke 4:18)
In so reading, he both declared his divine sonship and described to his neighbor Nazarenes a very specific power the Father gave him: the power to transform bad things, base things, into good things, into gold.
Here are some of the things the Savior says he can transform, in those Messianic verses from the book of Isaiah:
- broken hearts into healed hearts.
- captivity into liberty.
- locked doors into open ones, and a prison into freedom.
- ashes into beauty.
- mourning into joy.
- heaviness into praise.
I especially love that last part, about ashes, mourning, and heaviness being changed for beauty, joy, and praise. I love this because these are opposites. By all the laws of this natural mortal world, these sorts of transformations are impossible. But the Savior says he can do it.
And best yet, he says it is his job. This is the very thing he has been anointed and sent to do.
If we think of alchemy as the magic of transformation, and if in Jesus Christ that magic is actual, meaning it can actually take place, what things in our lives would we wish that power upon? What base, common, hard, dark things would we have him transform?
He can change our tendencies.
On a quotidian level, I can tell you several things I’d wish transformed:
- I dread budgeting.
- I have a bad habit of going to bed late and then being slow and lethargic in the mornings.
- I hesitate to apologize, even when I know I should.
- I take things seriously in moments when it would be healthier to take them with a smile and a laugh.
- And then there’s how easily I hand my time over to screens and social media.
Is it possible that the Savior’s power to transform could extend to such basic things?
He can change our feelings.
On a deeper level, I wish I could swap for happier ones the heavy feelings I carry from past experiences—the “floodwaters of despair…fought in the lonely foxholes of the heart” (Jeffrey R. Holland, “Broken Things to Mend”):
- The quiet anguish from broken relationships and unhealthy attachments
- The numbing self-doubt from rejections
- The regret of wasted time and missed opportunities
- The despair from repeated failures and losses
If the Savior can turn mourning into joy, can he take other dark feelings—pain, regret, anger, humiliation—and turns them into feelings of peace, gratitude, excitement, love, light?
He can change our souls.
On an eternal level, when looking at the texture, caliber, and chemical makeup of my soul (if we can use those sorts of terms metaphorically), I’m a pretty common element. I realize this daily, as I catch glimpses of His goodness and divinity and of my own mortal pettiness and devilish tendencies. I battle selfishness, pride, anger, jealousy, and laziness hourly. I see how becoming a new creature in Christ won’t come down to rearranging a few mannerism molecules, but will require an entire overhaul of my character, a mighty change of heart, an entire transformation.
C.S. Lewis captures this realization particularly well: “We begin to notice, besides our particular sinful acts, our sinfulness; begin to be alarmed not only about what we do, but about what we are. When I come to my evening prayers and try to reckon up the sins of the day, nine times out of ten the most obvious one is some sin against charity; I have sulked or snapped or sneered or snubbed or stormed. And the excuse that immediately springs to my mind is that the provocation was so sudden and unexpected: I was caught off my guard, I had not time to collect myself. . . . Surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in the cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats: it only prevents them from hiding. In the same way the suddenness of the provocation does not make me an ill-tempered man: it only shows me what an ill-tempered man I am. . . . It follows that the change which I most need to undergo is a change that my own direct, voluntary efforts cannot bring about. . . . After the first few steps in the Christian life we realize that everything which really needs to be done in our souls can be done only by God.
The medieval alchemists were seeking a stone that could turn common substances into the most precious metal. We have a Savior, a Rock, who can actually turn common things—common experiences and common people—into precious ones—precious experiences and precious, holy people.
Jesus Christ has the power of transformation. He is the power of transformation. As we interact with him more often and more directly, our own commonness will begin to be transformed into His holiness. We will come to be children of light in countenance and character (see John 12:36, 1 Thessalonians 5:5, Alma 5:14, Moroni 7:48).
Going Forward
Sometimes we look for elaborate, new, exciting programs or systems to become new people, to cast off old shabby feelings, to become fresh, bright creatures. While there is much wisdom in the world, in great literature, and in inspired music, the fastest, deepest, most effective way to become new creatures—to truly change who we are—is to invite the Lord into our days. To pray and talk with Him constantly. To be in His scriptures as much as we can. To practice kindness and love, in His name, for the simple reason that He has asked us to.
Jesus Christ can change our tendencies. He can change our feelings. He can change our souls.
He can take things that are broken, miserable, and rotten, and turn them to be glorious, light-filled, bright, and brilliant. He can turn base men and women into gold.
At a time of year when we want to become new creatures, when we wish the unholy dullness inside of us transformed into brightness, let us turn to Him whose mission it is to transform us:
For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. (Isaiah 57:15)
I love him. Because of him, guilt becomes peace, regret becomes relief, and despair becomes hope. (“Because of Him,” video) Because of him, because of his perfect life and unimaginable sacrifice and love, I can be transformed to be like him. I can be transformed through him.
What is something you can allow the Lord to help you transform?
How can you invite the Lord into your days?
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