Over coffee at the ubiquitous Starbucks, my friend shared the story of his departure from his Christian faith.  He did not leave his faith over a whim or because of some intellectual crisis he couldn't resolve with his dearly held beliefs.  He left because his work as a journalist led him into Christian circles where he met some of the most influential Christian leaders and teachers.  He left his Christian faith because as he traversed these circles, he saw very little evidence of true, Christian transformation of character, values, and lifestyle.  What he witnessed was a group of men and women who resembled the world more than they did Jesus.  The dissonance between what was espoused in word and what was clearly missing in deed caused him to doubt the transformative power of the gospel.  If Christianity made little difference in the lives of these Christian leaders—to whom so many look for guidance and example—what difference could it make in his life? 

All of us, at one time or another, have wrestled with a similar conflict.  We may not walk away from belief or religion as my friend did, but we have been stung by disillusionment when our favorite leader, mentor, or friend turns out to have feet made of clay.  Moreover, when we hold a mirror up to our own lives, we often see very spotty reflections of transformation.  If we aren't already discouraged at the lack of transformation in others, we certainly will be discouraged when we take a good, hard look at our own lives. 

Why is transformation so hard?  And why do we seemingly see so little of it in our lives, no matter conviction or creed?  We still lose our tempers, we get irritated at co-workers, we covet, we lust, and we are faithful idolaters.  For Christians, this is especially problematic because transformation is so clearly written into the good news of the gospel:  "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17).  Yet, an honest comparison of Christians and non-Christians leads us to wonder exactly what this transformation really looks like.

While it is certainly understandable that we look to others as "examples" of faith, for the Christian, it is vital to remember to keep the focus on our own transformation and faithfulness to the gospel.  Jesus asked his disciples: "And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye" (Luke 6:41)?  So often, we look at the foibles of others before we honestly examine our own hearts; we vociferously pull the speck out of the eye of another, while we maintain a Redwood-sized log of our own.  Yet any hope of transformation grows substantially when we remain diligently self-critical, rather than persisting in an "out there" focus.

The Christian can also nurture the hope of transformation in the stories of the less than stellar characters that cooperate in God's great work of redemption in the Bible.  Transformation in biblical terms entails God's faithfulness and not human perfection.  Noah got drunk; Abraham lied twice about Sarah being his sister; Gideon became an idolater; Samson failed to honor his vows; David committed adultery; Paul and Barnabus argued over John Mark and went their separate ways; the disciples of Jesus all left him in his moment of need and fled.  The psalmist alerts us to the fact that God is not ignorant about humanity's humble condition: "For God knows what we are made of; God is mindful that we are but dust" (Psalm 103:14).  Yet in spite of this dusty substance, God is at work in and through flawed individuals.  God can, and does, use us despite our fits and starts in following. 

Perhaps there is something further to be gleaned about the nature of transformation from the story of Jacob.  Favored by his mother, he schemed and connived his way into receiving his brother's birthright and his father's blessing.  He treated his wife Leah with great contempt and ended up taking a great deal of his family's dysfunction into his own family; he, too, favored the children of his wife Rachel.  But Jacob had a profound encounter with God one night in the lonely ford of Jabbok.(1)  It was this wrestling match with the living God that proved truly transformational.  Jacob received a new name, "Israel," as well as a dislocated hip.  He named this place of transformation "Peniel," which means, "I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been preserved" (Genesis 32:30).  His life had been preserved, but he would forever bear the mark of that transformational encounter in a new name and identity—and in his permanent limp. 

Perhaps, our own journeys of transformation reflect a similar experience.  For those who follow the God of reconciliation, the hope of the living gospel, God indeed changes our names and gives us new identities in the hope of becoming all that God intends for us.  But God undertakes this work in a way that leaves our humanity in tact.  We are given transformation, though perhaps with a limp that requires God's continual grace for the hope of God's glory.    

Margaret Manning is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington. 

(1) Genesis 32:22.