The Book of Romans tells us to present our bodies to God as a living sacrifice. It calls us not to be conformed to the world, but to be transformed by the renewal of our minds.
John Calvin put it this way when he said, “As consulting our self-interest is the pestilence that most effectively leads to our destruction, so the sole haven of salvation is to be wise in nothing and to will nothing through ourselves, but to follow the leading of the Lord alone.”
But that is easier said than done.
The rendition of Psalm 15 below puts forward a portrait of righteousness and goodness as an upward walk to God’s holy mountain. It asks a searching question: who can live with you there? The answer comes in images and vivid states of being. Sabbath rest. A life that blooms with goodness. A person who gives themselves away like a seed—crushed and buried in the ground, only to rise again as grain. One who suffers and is still able to love. One who gives without counting the cost.
Somewhere in the journey of self-denail, a transformation takes hold. Is it possible that in self-denial We might. discover a life greater than the sum of our losses? Could we find a peace as we give ourselves and our wants and needs away that self-sufficiency And self-determination could Not secure. Isn’t this what Jesus meant when He said, “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it”
I suppose there is a paradox here. The seed grows greater in the dark. The one who is winnowed—kernel crushed and chaff blown—becomes light enough to rise into a new life.
