Conformed to the Image of Christ

"For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers" (Romans 8:29).

God’s ultimate purpose in our creation was that we should finally be "conformed to the image of Christ." Christ was to be the firstborn among many brothers, and His brothers were to be like Him. All the discipline and training of our lives is with this end in view; and God has implanted in every human heart a longing, however unformed and unexpressed, after the best and highest it knows.

Christ is the pattern of what each one of us is to be when finished. We are "predestined" to be conformed to His image, in order that He might be the firstborn among many brothers. We are to be "partakers of the divine nature" (2 Peter 1:4) with Christ; we are to be filled with the spirit of Christ; we are to share His resurrection life, and to walk as He walked. We are to be one with Him, as He is one with the Father; and the glory God gave to Him, He is to give to us. And when all this is brought to pass, then, and not until then, will God’s purpose in our creation be fully accomplished, and we stand forth "in His image and after His likeness."

Our likeness to His image is an accomplished fact in the mind of God, but we are, so to speak, in the factory as yet, and the great Master Workman is at work upon us. "Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is" (1 John 3:2).

And so it is written: "Thus it is written, 'The first man Adam became a living being'; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit. But it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so also are those who are of the dust, and as is the man of heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven" (1 Corinthians 15:45-49).

It is deeply interesting to see that this process, which was begun in Genesis, is declared to be completed in Revelation, where the one like a son of man gave to St. John this significant message to the overcomers: "The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name" (Revelation 3:12). Since name always means character in the Bible, this message can only mean that at last God’s purpose is accomplished, and the spiritual development of man is completed, and he has been made, what God intended from the start, so truly into His likeness and image, as to deserve having written upon him the name of God!

Words fail before such a glorious destiny as this! But our Lord foreshadows it in His wonderful prayer, when He asks for His brothers "that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.

The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one" (John 17:21-23). Could oneness be closer or more complete?

Paul also foreshadows this glorious completion when he declares, that, if we suffer with Christ, we shall also be glorified together with Him; and when he asserts that "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (Romans 8:18).

The whole creation waits for the revealing of this glory; for Paul goes on to say that "the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God" (Romans 8:19). And he adds finally, "And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:23).

In view of such a glorious destiny, at which I dare not do more than hint, shall we not cheerfully welcome the processes, however painful they may be, by which we are to reach it? And shall we not strive eagerly and earnestly to be "working together with him" (2 Corinthians 6:1) in helping to bring it about? He is the great Master-builder, but He wants our cooperation in building up the structure of our characters, and He exhorts us to take care how we build. We are all of us at every moment of our lives engaged in this building. Sometimes we build with gold, silver, and precious stones, and sometimes we build with wood, hay, and straw. And we are solemnly warned that "each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done" (1 Corinthians 3:13). There is no escaping this. We cannot hope, when that day comes, to conceal our wood, hay, and straw, however successfully we may have managed to do so beforehand.

To my mind, there is no more solemn passage in the whole Bible than the one in Galatians which says: "Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life" (Galatians 6:7-8). It is the absolute certainty of this that is so awe-inspiring. It is far more serious than any arbitrary punishment; for punishment can sometimes be avoided, but there is no possibility of altering the working of a natural law such as this.

In a Catechism I saw lately were the following questions and answers: Q: What is the reward for generosity?

A: More generosity.

Q: What is the punishment for meanness?

A: More meanness.

No Catechism ever spoke more truly. We all know it for ourselves. In the parable of the talents, our Lord illustrates this inevitable law. The condemnation of the unfaithful servant may have sometimes seemed unfair to us, but it was only the reaping of what that servant had sown. "So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away" (Matthew 25:28-29). This is no arbitrary statement, but is simply a revelation of the inherent nature of things, from which none of us can escape.

But in order to be labourers together with God, we must not only build with His materials, but also by His processes, and we are often very ignorant of these. Our idea of building is of hard, laborious work, done by the sweat of our brow; but God’s idea is very different. Paul tells us what it is: "And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit" (2 Corinthians 3:18). Our work is to "behold," and, as we behold, the Lord carries out the marvellous transformation, and we are "changed into the same image by the Spirit of the Lord." This means, of course, to behold, not in our earthly sense of merely looking at a thing, but in the divine sense of really seeing it. We are to behold the glory of the Lord with our spiritual eyes, and we are to keep beholding it. The glory of the Lord does not mean a great shine or a halo, however. The real glory of the Lord is the glory of what He is and of what He does—the glory of His character. And it is this we are to behold.

Let me give an illustration. Someone offends me, and I am tempted to get angry and strike back.

But I look at Christ, and think of what He would have done, and dwell upon the thought of His gentleness and meekness, and His love for the person who offended me. As I look, I begin to want to be like Him, and I ask in faith that I may be made a "partaker of the divine nature" (2 Peter 1:4), and anger and revenge die out of my heart. I love my enemy and long to serve him.

It is by this sort of beholding Christ that we are to be changed into His image; and the closer we keep to Him, the more rapid the change will be.

I have heard of a wonderful mirror known to science called the parabolic mirror. It is a hollow cone lined with a mirror all over its inside surface. It has the power of focusing rays of light in different degrees of intensity, in proportion to how close they get to the meeting point at the top end of the cone; the power becomes more and more intense as the end point is approached. It has been discovered by science that at a certain stage in this movement toward the interior point— where all the sides of the mirror meet in absolute oneness—the power of the focus concentrates all the light-giving properties of the sun’s rays into such an intense brilliancy that it makes visible things never before seen by the human eye. It even makes flesh transparent, enabling us to see through the outer covering of our bodies to the inner operations beneath.

Moving a little further into the interior of our mirror, the heat properties of the sun’s rays are so concentrated that they generate enough heat to melt iron in sixteen seconds, and to clear away the alloy from gold, leaving only the solid bead of pure metal, in fourteen seconds.

Moving further still, the photographing properties of the sunlight are so concentrated that they impress a permanent image of the mirror upon anything that is passed through the focus for only one second.

Moving still further, nearly to the point of oneness, the magnetising powers of light are so concentrated that anything exposed to it for a single instant becomes a powerful magnet, drawing all things to itself afterwards.

Whether all this is scientifically correct or not, I am not scientist enough to know, but at least it will serve as an allegory to show the progress of the soul, as it is changed from glory to glory, in its development "into His image."

First, as we behold as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, we come to the light focus, which reveals our sinfulness and our need. "Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, 'I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life'" (John 8:12).

Second, as we draw closer, we reach the heat focus, where all our dross and worthless silver is burned up. For He is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers' soap: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the Lord" (Malachi 3:2-3).

Third, as we draw closer still, we come to the photographing focus, where the image of Christ is permanently impressed upon our souls, and we are made like Him because we see Him as He is.

"We know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is" (1 John 3:2).

Fourth and finally, as we come to the point of oneness, we reach the magnetic focus, where our character is so shaped like Christ’s that people, seeing it, will be irresistibly drawn to "give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16).

If we would be shaped into the image of Christ, then, we must live closer and ever closer to Him.

We must become better and better acquainted with His character and His ways; we must look at things through His eyes and judge all things by His standards. It is not by effort or by struggling that this likeness is to be accomplished; it is by assimilation. According to a natural law, we grow like those we spend time with, and the stronger character always exerts the controlling influence. And, as divine law is all one with natural law—only working in a higher sphere and with more unhindered power—it should not seem mysterious to us that we should become like Christ by a spiritual union with Him.

But again I must repeat, that this union with Christ cannot come by our own efforts, no matter how strenuous they may be. Christ is to "dwell in your hearts through faith" (Ephesians 3:17), and He can dwell there in no other way. Paul, when he tells us that he was crucified with Christ, says: "I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.

And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20).

"Christ lives in me"—this is the transforming secret. If Christ lives in me, His life must, in the very nature of things, be shown in my physical body, and I cannot fail to be changed from glory to glory into His image. Our Lord’s teaching about this is very clear: "Abide in me, and I in you.

As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:4-5).

This is literally true. If we abide in Him, and He in us, we can no more help bringing forth much fruit than the branches of a healthy vine can. In the very nature of things, the fruit must come.

But we cannot take the "old man" into Christ. We must put off the old self with its deeds before we can "put on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14). The Apostle Paul, in writing to the Colossians, bases his encouragement to live a holy life on the fact that they had already done this: "Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator" (Colossians 3:9-10).

Sin must disappear when Christ enters; no soul that is not prepared to surrender everything contrary to His will can hope to welcome Him. The "old man" must be set aside if the new man is to reign. But both the putting off and the putting on must be done by faith. There is no other way. As I have tried to explain elsewhere, we must move our personality, our ego, and our will out of ourselves and into Christ. We must consider ourselves dead to self and alive only to God.

"So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, to make you obey its passions. Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness" (Romans 6:11-13).

The same kind of faith that allows us to grasp the forgiveness of sins also brings about this union with Christ. To those who do not understand the law of faith, this will no doubt be as great a mystery as the secrets of gravity were before the law of gravity was discovered. However, to those who do understand it, the law of faith works as unerringly and as definitely as the law of gravity, and produces its results just as certainly. No one can read the eleventh chapter of Hebrews and fail to see that faith is an all-conquering force. I believe myself it is the creative force of the universe. It is the higher law that controls all the lower laws beneath it; what looks like a miracle is simply the working of this higher controlling law.

Faith is, as I say, the law of creation: "By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible" (Hebrews 11:3). We are told that God spoke and it was done, He commanded and it stood fast. And our Lord tells us that if we have faith, we can do the same: "And Jesus answered them, 'Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, "Be taken up and thrown into the sea," and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours'" (Mark 11:22-24).

Faith, we are told, "calls into existence the things that do not exist" (Romans 4:17). By calling them, it brings them into being. Therefore, although we cannot see any physical sign of change when by faith we put off the old self—which is corrupt according to deceitful desires—and by faith put on the new self—which is created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness—it has nevertheless really been done. Faith has accomplished it. I cannot explain this theologically, but I can fearlessly assert that it is a massive practical reality. Those souls who abandon the life of self and give themselves up to the Lord to be fully possessed by Him find that He takes possession of the inner springs of their being, and "works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13).

Paul prayed for the Ephesians "that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith" (Ephesians 3:17), and this is the whole secret of being shaped into His image. If Christ is dwelling in my heart, I must necessarily be Christ-like. I cannot be unkind, irritable, self-seeking, or dishonest; instead, His gentleness, sweetness, tender compassion, and loving submission to the will of His Father must be shown in my daily walk and conversation.

We shall not be fully changed into the image of Christ until He appears and we "see him as he is" (1 John 3:2). But meanwhile, to our own extent, the life of Jesus is to be "manifested in our mortal flesh" (2 Corinthians 4:11). Is it manifested in ours? Are we so "conformed to the image" of Christ that people, in seeing us, see a glimpse of Him as well?

A Methodist minister's wife told me that at one time, when they had moved to a new place, her little boy came in after his first afternoon of play and exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, mother, I have found such a lovely, good little girl to play with here that I never want to go away again." "I am very glad, darling," said the loving mother, happy for her child's happiness; "what is the little girl's name?" "Oh," replied the child with a sudden solemnity, "I think her name is Jesus." "Why, Frank!" exclaimed the horrified mother, "what do you mean?" "Well, mother," he said defensively, "she was so lovely that I did not know what she could be called but Jesus."

Are our lives so Christ-like that anyone could have such a thought about us? Is it obvious to everyone around us that we have been with Jesus? Is it not, sadly, often just the opposite? Are not some of us so grumpy and difficult in our living that exactly the opposite would have to be said about us?

Paul says we are to be "a letter from Christ... written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts" (2 Corinthians 3:3). I firmly believe that if every child of God, all over the world, would begin from this day forward to be a "letter from Christ," living a truly Christ-like life at home and abroad, it would not be a month before the churches would be crowded with people wanting to know more, coming in to see what religion could so transform human nature into something divine.

The world is full of people who do not believe in the reality of the Christian religion, and nothing will convince them except facts they cannot disprove. We must meet them with transformed lives. If they see that whereas once we were angry, now we are sweet; once we were proud, now we are humble; once we were worried, now we are patient and calm; and if we are able to testify that it is the religion of Christ that has caused this change, they cannot help but be impressed.

A Christian man who had gained a great reputation for piety because of his hard work unfortunately also had a reputation for a bad temper and a sharp tongue. But at last, for some reason no one could understand, a change seemed to come over him. His temper and his tongue became as sweet and gentle as they had previously been violent and sharp. His friends watched and wondered, and finally one of them asked him if he had changed his religion. "No," replied the man, "I have not changed my religion, but I have at last let my religion change me." How much has our religion changed us?

It is very easy to have a "church religion," a "prayer-meeting religion," or a "Christian-work religion," but it is a completely different thing to have an every-day religion. To "show godliness at home" is one of the most vital parts of Christianity, but it is also far too rare. It is not at all uncommon to find Christians who "practice their righteousness" before outsiders to be seen by others, but who fail miserably at showing their faith at home. I once knew a father who was so powerful in prayer at the weekly meeting and so impressive in his encouragement that the whole church was moved by his piety; but when he went home after the meetings, he was so cross and mean that his wife and family were afraid to say a word in his presence.

"And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward" (Matthew 6:5). These words, "they have received their reward," seem to me to be among the most solemn in the Bible. What we do to be seen by people is seen by people, and that is the end of it. There is no likeness to Christ in that kind of righteousness.

The righteousness that is Christ-like is the righteousness that bears everyday trials cheerfully and is patient under provocations at home; that returns good for evil and meets all the friction of daily life with sweetness and gentleness. It "is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).

This is what it means to be conformed to the image of Christ! Do we know anything of such righteousness as this?

We sometimes talk about performing what we call our "religious duties," meaning church services, set times of devotion, or Christian work. We never dream that it is far more our "religious duty" to be Christ-like in our daily walk and conversation than even to be faithful in those other things—as desirable as they may be in themselves. The righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees was a righteousness of words and phrases, and of ceremonial rituals; this is often very impressive to outsiders. But, because it was nothing more, our Lord condemns it in the strongest terms: "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.

These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people's bones and all uncleanness" (Matthew 23:23, 27). And He adds, "So you also outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness" (Matthew 23:28).

It is very easy to say beautiful things about the religious life, but to actually be what we say is a completely different matter. I know a Sunday School teacher who had been teaching her students a great deal about casting all your cares on the Lord and trusting Him in times of trial; they had been very impressed. But finally, a trouble came into the life of this teacher, and some of her students saw her in her own home while it lasted. To their amazement and distress, they saw her fretting, agitated, worrying, and complaining; acting, in short, just as if there were no God to trust, or as if His ways were not ways of love and goodness. It was an "object lesson" to those children that ruined all the good which that teacher’s previous teaching had seemed likely to accomplish. One of them, who was very observant, said to me triumphantly, "I thought it couldn't be true while Miss —— was telling us about how we might trust the Lord for everything; and now I see it was only 'goody-goody' talk, because she doesn't do it herself."

A cross Christian, or an anxious one, a discouraged, gloomy Christian, a doubting Christian, a complaining Christian, an exacting Christian, a selfish, cruel, hard-hearted Christian, a self- indulgent Christian, a Christian with a sharp tongue or a bitter spirit—a Christian, in short, who is not Christ-like—might as well preach to the winds as preach to his own family or friends who see him as he is. There is no escape from this inevitable law of things, and we might as well recognise it at once. If we want our loved ones to trust the Lord, volumes of talk about it will not be one-thousandth part as convincing to them as the sight of a little real trust on our own part in a time of need. The longest prayer and the loudest preaching are of no use in any family circle, no matter how well they might do in the pulpit, unless there is a clear living out of the things preached.

Some Christians seem to think that the fruits which the Bible calls for are some form of outward religious work, such as holding meetings, visiting the poor, or running charitable institutions.

However, the fact is that the Bible scarcely mentions these at all as fruits of the Spirit, but declares that "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" (Galatians 5:22-23). A Christ-like character must necessarily be the fruit of Christ’s indwelling. Other things will no doubt be the result of this character; but first and foremost comes the character, or all the rest is just a hollow sham. A recent writer has said: "A man can never be more than his character makes him. A man can never do more nor better than deliver or embody that which is his character. Nothing valuable can come out of a man that is not first in the man. Character must stand behind and back up everything—the sermon, the poem, the picture, the book. None of them is worth a straw without it."

In order to become conformed to the image of Christ, we must of necessity be made "partakers of the divine nature" (2 Peter 1:4). And, where this is the case, that divine nature must necessarily show itself. Our tastes, our wishes, and our purposes will become like Christ’s; we shall see things through His eyes. This is inevitable; for where the divine nature is, its fruits cannot fail to be manifest. Where they are not manifest, we are forced to conclude that that individual, no matter how loud their professions, has not yet been made a partaker of the divine nature.

I can hear someone asking, "But do you really mean to say that, in order to be made partakers of the divine nature, we must stop our own efforts entirely? Must we simply by faith put on Christ, and let Him live in us and work in us to will and to do of His good pleasure? And do you believe He will then actually do it?"

To this I answer most emphatically, yes, I mean just that. I mean that if we abandon ourselves entirely to Him, He comes to live in us and is Himself our life. We must commit our whole lives to Him: our thoughts, our words, our daily walk, our sitting down and our rising up. By faith we must abandon ourselves and, as it were, move over into Christ and abide in Him. By faith we must put off the old man, and by faith we must put on the new man. By faith we must consider ourselves dead to sin and alive to God—as truly dead as alive.

By faith we must realise that our daily life is Christ living in us; and, ceasing from our own works, we must allow Him to work in us to will and to act for His good pleasure. It is no longer truth about Him that must fill our hearts, but it is Himself—the living, loving, glorious Christ— who will, if we let Him, truly make us His dwelling place. He will reign and rule within us and "subject all things to himself" (Philippians 3:21). "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (2 Corinthians 5:17).

It was no mere figure of speech when our Lord, in that wonderful Sermon on the Mount, said to His disciples, "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). He meant, of course, according to our human capacity, but He meant that reality of being conformed to His image to which we have been predestined. And in the Epistle to the Hebrews, we are shown how it is to be brought about: "Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen" (Hebrews 13:20-21).

It is to be by His working in us, and not by our working in ourselves, that this purpose of God in our creation is to be accomplished. If it should look as though some of us are too far removed from any likeness to Christ for such a transformation ever to happen, we must remember that our Maker is not finished making us yet. The day will come, if we do not hinder Him, when the work begun in Genesis shall be finished in Revelation, and the whole creation, as well as ourselves, shall be "set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God" (Romans 8:21).

"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:22- 23).

"Is it to be Your will done for me? Or mine?

And I be made a thing, not after Yours; My own, and full of the most pathetic pretence?

Shall I be born of God, or of mere man?

Be made like Christ, or on some other plan?

What if Your work in me goes beyond my senses, Too fine, too high for me to understand.

I trust entirely. Proceed, Lord, with Your grand labour!

I do not have knowledge, wisdom, insight, or thought, Nor understanding fit to justify You in Your work, O Perfect One. You have brought Me up to this, and look! what You have done I cannot call it good. But I can cry: 'O enemy, the Maker has not finished; One day you shall see, and from the sight you will run.'"