“Do not be conformed to this world.”

That command—one of the firsts in Paul’s letter to the church in Rome—comes after 11 chapters of deep, rich, beautiful gospel doctrine. Paul has taken his readers on a voyage from the depths of human guilt and depravity that resulted in God’s wrath, to the heights of Jesus death and resurrection that has resulted in our freedom.

Now he shows his readers what that freedom looks like. He rolls off the theological showroom floor and takes the gospel for a test drive. Basing his appeal on the many mercies of God he’s so carefully unpacked, Paul now urges us to live an exemplary life, to let our conduct be worthy of the gospel.

“Do not be conformed to this world.” What does that mean? How do we pursue nonconformity? That question has yielded some interesting lifestyles.

St. Jerome attended school in Rome. Like many others, he fell headlong into sexual sin. After his conversion to Christianity he was still racked with guilt and wished to flee the temptations of Rome. Around 400 AD he traveled into the Syrian Desert and pursued an aesthetic, monastic lifestyle for five years. Known as “the holy hermit,” Jerome frequently became ill and found no lasting relief from the temptations he fled. He wrote:

How often did I fancy myself among the pleasures of Rome! . . . Though in my fear of hell I had consigned myself to that prison where my only companions were scorpions and wild beasts, I often imagined myself surrounded by dancing girls. My face was pale with fasting. My limbs were cold as ice. But my mind was burning with desire, and the fires of lust kept bubbling up before me while my body was as good as dead.

St. Jerome’s error was forgetting the axiom, “Wherever you go…there you are.” Our deepest problems are not outside of us. They are inside. Another mistaken interpretation of this verse, in my opinion, can be seen in parts of Northeast America where quiet, humble groups of religious people have taken Paul’s command to mean an avoidance of all things modern: clothing, technology, even transportation. 

It comes as no surprise to learn that the devil loves extremes. In fact, extremes are much easier to pursue than holding the careful balance and moderation this verse calls for. Paul is arguing for a wise, humble, thoughtful cultural engagement. We can’t take ourselves out of the world (1 Corinthians 5:9-10). Nor should we try. Instead, we should recognize and resist the spirit of this world, the pattern of this age. That’s his point. 

The verb, “Do not be conformed” is called a passive imperative in Greek. That means we are being told not to let something happen to us. J. B. Phillips famously translated it “Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mould.”

Following that command requires mindfulness; a recognition. If we fall into apathy, ignorance, or naivety, we’ll falter. Think of being in a canoe and drifting down a peaceful, scenic river. You suddenly hear a faint roar up ahead. Cold mist begins to descend. But you are not alarmed. You’ve grown accustomed to inactive enjoyment. Your oars lie unused in the bottom of the canoe. Rowing seems…hard, forced, and unnecessary.

Instead, you continue to drift along, floating easily downstream. It’s natural. It’s relaxing. You rest and let the stream take you downriver…and over the falls. You followed it’s course. You conformed. You went with the flow. 

Conforming to this world is simply letting yourself be patterned by the world’s collective way of thinking. It’s falling victim to the reinforced ways of living, thinking, believing, and behaving that become more and more normal. David Wells defined worldliness as “whatever any culture does to makes sin seem normal and righteousness seem strange.” Consider the patterns of thinking you’ve been handed that seem “normal.” 

Does “Be true to yourself” sound like a good idea? Will the advice “Follow your heart” lead you to green pastures and still waters? That’s what Paul is after. That’s the “course of this world.” Recognize and resist it. How do you view sex, beauty, religion, relationships, entertainment, media consumption, and even truth?  

When John wrote his final letter (Revelation) to Christians facing death, he encouraged them to “come out” of Babylon. That’s a metaphor for the sinful city of man, much like Bunyan’s Vanity Fair. It’s where God’s people live in exile, face persecution for their faith, and suffer the temptation to compromise. It represents the spirit of self-indulgence and self-assertion. It’s unity, organization, ambition, identity, and religion—without God.  

Like the cultural pattern we’re called to resist, Babylon is attractive, pervasive, seductive, and deceptive. She offers us everything our fallen hearts long to consume. 

When the white witch of Narnia discovered a son of Adam in her realm, the boy Edmund, she asked him, “What would you like to eat?” He replied, “Turkish Delight, please, your majesty.” C.S. Lewis skillfully narrates what followed: 

Each piece was sweet and light to the very center and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious. He was quite warm now, and very comfortable. While he was eating the Queen kept asking him questions. At first Edmund tried to remember that it is rude to speak with one’s mouth full, but soon he forgot about this and thought only of trying to shovel down as much Turkish Delight as he could, and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat, and he never asked himself why the Queen should be so inquisitive…

At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the Queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves… 

Eugene Peterson translated Romans 12:2, “Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking.” Be thoughtful. Turkish Delights abound! Be mindful of the habits that are shaping and forming you. Ask yourself the hard but helpful question, “What kind of person is this habit making me into?” 

It’s not uncommon for people to watch a television show at 1.5 or 2x speed, increasing their capacity to digest more content. We live in an age of consumption. The word “binge” has come to represent our age’s unhealthy obsession with food, drink, media, and entertainment. We are what we eat. We become what we behold. And we conform to what we consume. In other words, our hearts follow our habits.

It’s easy to become absorbed with a culture that is at odds with God. Like smog in a city, this fallen age emits an invisible, toxic influence that weakens our resolve to live for Christ. It seeks to push us into a pattern that will direct us away from Jesus, one habit at a time.

How can we escape such an impressive, powerful force that offers everything our fallen hearts crave? What hope do we have in the face of such formidable pressures?

That’s next time, and the rest of the verse in Romans 12. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” What’s that mean? Well here’s a hint you may remember humming at one time or another…

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in his wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of his glory and grace