Dave Brisbin 10.18.26
Ran across a quote from Nikos Kazantzakis, author of Zorba the Greek: The more years that pass, the more I believe in the omnipotence of the human soul…I do not believe that there is any obstacle that cannot be transubstantiated into an instrument of victory.
Transubstantiated. Why not just transformed? Why use six syllables where two would do?
Nikos knew exactly what he was doing. Transubstantiation is a fundamental change of substance, the essence of something, while its outer appearance or the circumstance surrounding it—what Aristotle called “accidents”—remain the same. Aristotle knew what he was doing too. Specific details of birth, form, or circumstance are truly accidental. They happen without consent, often can’t be changed, and yet don’t describe or impose the essence of who or what we are, unless we never choose otherwise. When we do, we are transubstantiated, even as our accidents remain.
This puts a finer point on the book of James, who counsels us to count it all joy when we encounter traumatic accidents of circumstance. That enduring them with cheerful patience produces a perfect result: maturity, completion, lacking nothing. Stoics say that an “accidental” obstacle is not in our way—it is the way itself, the reason we’re traveling. We can choose the meaning of the accident. Are we victim or student? Either way, the pain of the accident remains, but our meaning changes everything else.
The deliberate choice of the word transubstantiation also alludes to the Catholic and Orthodox belief that at the moment of consecration, the elements of bread and wine are transubstantiated into the body and blood of Christ. Accidental bread and wine remain while unseen substance changes. Our intentional choices are sacramental, changing the substance of our experience.
It’s our choice. Not to choose is to let accidents define us as victims of circumstance. By asking us not to judge ourselves, others, events by accidents of circumstance, James is ushering us into a room with God’s unseen substance. Once truly seen, it creates such oneing that a sense of separation is no longer possible. Transubstantiated.
