We all have moments of transformation. Our clothes may not be radiant and we may not chat with prophets, but ever so subtly a shift occurs, moving beyond our default mode, an inch or two closer to God’s dream for us. Or to reframe the traditional Ash Wednesday prayer, said as ashes are marked on foreheads: we “turn from ego. Trust the good news.”
To become less judgmental, less anxious—such a transformation could take all of Lent and beyond! But like the disciples in the Transfiguration gospel, we go through a broad spectrum. First the shining vision. Then Jesus’ touch lifts from prostrate fear to action. The disciples next encounter an epileptic boy, who falls into fires and water. We may want to linger on the mountaintop, but Jesus leads back to the nitty grit.
Then our challenge becomes, as Jeremy Smith describes, “realizing the power you have to transform an obstacle into an opportunity…reframing a loss into a potential gain, recasting negativity into positive channels for gratitude.” Case in point: my gym moves our classes into a crowded new space, where we feel crammed, with a smaller parking lot that fills fast. We’d grown used to the spaciousness and amenities of the first location, especially the coffee shop conveniently next door for R and R after work-outs. Grumpiness ensued, meself among the most vocal critics. Until the day I decided to reframe.
“We’re all here,” I thought as I saw Sue, Tessa, Barb and Whitney, exercising around me. Our wonderful teachers are making the best of an uncomfortable situation, determined to be cheerful. Best of all, we’re accomplishing what we came for: strength, fitness, flexibility. Aren’t the details fairly minor? Aren’t we lucky to be here, independent and mobile, when—at a “certain” age–we could so easily be preparing for surgery or feeling chronic pain? And after class, aren’t we free to find other coffee shops, coast on adrenaline surge through the rest of the day, doing mostly whatever we want?
I know: it’s a flimsy example, when others are undergoing far worse and managing to see the positives in terrible experiences. But it’s close to home and rooted in the real. Jesus’ magnificent example shows the Best that humans can become, with his compassion healing the epileptic boy immediately after the unveiling of his splendid light. Perhaps his model is almost-overwhelming, so we can’t be in doubt about the high ideal to which we’re called.
So as we grow, details that once seemed so important don’t matter as much. People I once would’ve labeled “strange” are fascinating, and have much to teach. “How can I brighten this day for someone else?” becomes a more important benchmark than “What can I accomplish today?” And G.K. Chesterton gives the perfect example of attitude adjustment: Cinderella whines to her fairy godmother about having to leave the ball at midnight. Her kindly helper replies, “Sweetie, who said you could come to the ball in the first place?”
And so we pray: transform me into Yourself. Help me take on the kindness of Christ.
Kathy Coffey 