Becoming soup: on surrender to transformation

When I was new to religious life, I sat through so many workshops about transition that the beautiful life cycle of a butterfly became cliché to me.

I heard that once the caterpillar becomes a pupa, it basically turns into caterpillar soup: a mush of cells digesting themselves.

I vaguely remember reflection prompts from this time. Questions like: to what stage of the metamorphosis of the butterfly do you most relate? What wisdom can we see in the butterfly’s story of transformation? As you adapt to the changes in your life, what kind of butterfly might you become? To where could you fly?

As a Franciscan Sister, I obviously take spirituality very seriously. I truly believe that nature has much to show us about humility, balance, diversity, and healthy interdependence. And yes, the images and metaphors from God’s good creation can enrich our reflections, deepen our prayer life. As St. Thomas Aquinas proclaimed, “Creation is the primary and most perfect revelation of the Divine.”

Yet, some days I am not so sure about becoming soup. It can be painful and heart-rending to sacrifice oneself for the sake of transformation. When my book came out and suddenly my vulnerable story was available to the general public: transformation. Each time I changed living communities or ministries: transformation. When I gain awareness that the Spirit is inviting me to grow into a more loving and patient person: transformation. The transformation though, means I must become soup and allow the old to become something new.

Yes, it is healthy to integrate, detach, and depart from what was once good and beautiful, but it can sometimes feel too soon to say farewell. Why would any of us want to sacrifice who we are for something new and mysterious?

The early Christians may have wondered about some of the same questions. After Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, and then the arrival of the Holy Spirit, everything was up for evaluation, assessment. A new faith community was emerging, and with the emergence came conflict, struggle. I can imagine the heated conversations while confusion and division boiled. Which traditions and teachings ought to influence who we are becoming? Who are we now? What is Jesus Christ calling us to do, to be?

From Acts to Revelation, Scripture shows us that Christian discipleship requires surrender. Love requires sacrifice, risk, discomfort, and disturbance. We choose to remain open and allow God’s Providence to provide the way, to be the way. We let go of control and say yes to God’s will. We allow God to create and recreate us again and again.

“Behold, I make all things new.” Then he said, “Write these words down, for they are trustworthy and true.”

He said to me, “They are accomplished. I [am] the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.”

-Revelation 21:5-6

I long to reverence the beauty of the mystery. I desire to say yes to God. I want to surrender with freedom and joy and show that I am OK with dying and rising again with Christ. I have experienced the goodness of surrendering.

The truth is, I simply don’t like the feeling of being soup: of every part of me being made into mush and digested, to become something new and mysterious. I don’t like it, but I trust the process. It’s a process designed by God, and I trust in God, whose fidelity and strength remains steadfast and good. I trust in God, who holds me and loves, who is love.

And as I trust and surrender, I remain grateful that my spiritual ancestors–those early Christians who once were so uncertain and divided– decided to integrate the wisdom of the Hebrew Bible into my faith tradition.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
    and do not lean on your own understanding.

Proverbs 3:5

When I say yes to becoming soup, I accept that I don’t need to understand in order to give my heart fully to God. And this is good.

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2 Comments

  1. At the beginning of my week stay at a hermitage, I experienced memories that caused me great pain. I stayed open to the pain and allowed other painful memories to come forward. I stayed open to the pain wondering what God was going to do with it. The mystery of my deep faith began to over layer all of the memories and gratitude began to rise up and stream through the pain. I had a softening of my heart to others and myself. God is always so faithful and surprising. I find that I must hold on in faith, and trust that God is using everything for my healing and transformation.

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