The Art of Conversion (Part 2)
And how you can be sure true change is always possible for yourself
If I had to pick a favorite conversion story, mine comes from the life of perhaps the most celebrated saint in the Christian tradition, St. Francis of Assisi.
If you don’t know his initial conversion story, the short version goes something like this…
Francis was a young, wealthy son of a successful merchant and of noble stock. He was known for having an exciting and extravagant lifestyle, with no shortage of friends, parties, and material possessions. He was called “king of the party-goers.”
One day Francis is praying in a dilapidated chapel and hears the audible voice of Jesus say, “Francis, rebuild my church.” And in this one mystical experience, he is converted, renounces his wealth, and lives a life of poverty and service to all until the end of his days.
It’s a beautiful story. And it’s true (if tradition is to be believed), albeit a bit simplistic. But it’s not my favorite conversion story, nor, I think, the most compelling story about St. Francis. That story takes place after his initial conversion.
The Leper
Francis, now living a life of strict poverty and service to God, is traveling on a road one day. He’s already had his mystical experience; he has already chosen a new path. He’s been “converted.” Nevertheless he is traveling and comes to a bend in the road. As he rounds the bend, he unexpectedly finds a leper standing right before him. And in a flash, before Francis can think, his instincts kick in—and Francis recoils in disgust.
This changed man, this mystic, this greatest of human saints, recoils in disgust at the sight of a leper, someone belonging to a group he has vowed to serve. And, the story tells us, he admonished himself fiercely for his subconscious reaction of aversion to that which he had promised to embrace.
Now that is a conversion story.
Maybe you missed it, but the story is so compelling and emotional for me; I have goosebumps typing this.
Conversion as Event?
If you’re like me, you were probably taught that conversion was a one-time event. That’s even more likely if you grew up Protestant, like I did. I think there’s beauty in this—and reality in it, too. I’m not trying to speak theologically here (I know different traditions have different views of salvation, conversion, etc.). But I’m trying to speak transformationally.
Francis had a real conversion in that run-down chapel. Francis heard a divine voice and responded to it with his whole heart. Anyone studying the trajectory of his life would have a hard time arguing otherwise. And yet—and yet—the story of his encounter on the road with the leper reveals something equally true that is all-too-easy to miss: conversion is as much a matter of renewal as it is initial choice—and maybe even more so.
Conversion is as much a matter of renewal as it is initial choice.
“Renewal” in the process of conversion—in the process of transformation—is key. The initial encounter matters. A lot. Like a flame, the initial spark is absolutely crucial. But you also can’t expect a spark to light a whole house. Its role isn’t to provide light for hours but to kickstart the process able to do so.
So…what does this have to do with the Enneagram?
Francis that day on the road recoiled from a leper. He had promised to serve everyone, especially those rejected by ‘the world.’ He “fiercely admonished himself” because in that moment, he failed.
He had given up all of his possessions in dramatic form. (The story involves Francis’ father giving him an ultimatum of being disinherited if he didn’t return to the family business. Francis stripped naked before him as his answer in choosing absolute poverty.) No one could say Francis wasn’t committed to this new path. But the fact remains that despite his best efforts, something of Francis’ unconverted self remained.
One of the most exciting times in using the Enneagram as a tool is the initial introduction. I don’t know if it can be called a “conversion,” but the zeal many of us feel in first finding our Type, seeing our patterns, and understanding the world in a new way is consuming. And it’s not bad! In fact, it’s wonderful. It can provide the motivation we need to “strip naked,” so to speak, as Francis did with an absolute commitment to doing the inner work we’ve awakened to and to grow as people.
The work of change and growth and transformation takes place in the renewal to the inner work.
But it’s not enough to simply take an Enneagram test or attend one workshop or read a single book or listen to a podcast episode or take an online test. The work of “conversion,” the work of change and growth and transformation, takes place in the renewal to the inner work. It’s not enough to set out on the journey if you eventually stop walking altogether.
Bestselling author John Acuff says the hardest day in starting a new habit or intention isn’t the first day, but the day after you fail. That is the hardest day—and perhaps the most crucial point.
What do you do when you find yourself recoiling in disgust from the journey you’re on, from what you committed to? In Enneagram terms, you learn early on that this is an inherent part of the journey. No one “masters” the Enneagram or can say they “did” the Enneagram. Even basic understandings share that your Enneagram Type is a part of you that will always be there in some way. And an ever-present awareness of your tendencies will mean renewing a commitment to let go.
‘10,000 Hours’
We’re all called to a regular rhythm and commitment and practice of doing inner work. That could be the Enneagram or therapy or seminars or podcasts or spiritual practices or religious services or books or art or relationships or, or, or... But it has to be something. And the spiritual traditions teach us that it's not enough to, say, spend every day in relationship with someone and count on that to transform you; plenty of people don't transform at all over time. Malcolm Gladwell’s “10,000 hours” idea for attaining mastery after 10,000 hours of doing something has been revised in recent years. After all, plenty of people have spent 10,000 hours in, say, marriage and not become a marriage expert.
So what’s the difference between those who reach an admirable proficiency in something after 10,000 hours and those who don’t? Studies show the difference between people who let 10,000 hours change them and those who don’t is having a growth mindset. During your 10,000 hours, you have to be continually looking for ways to improve, not turning away when you fall or fail, having an unshakable belief that growth is both possible and critically important.
As radical as St. Francis’ initial conversion story is, how many thousands of people had a similar mystical experience but didn’t experience the same transformation? I think we know St. Francis of Assisi today not because he heard an audible voice of God but because when he saw a leper and fell back into his old habits, he leaned in, recommitted to the inner work, and started again.
And a powerful lesson from the Enneagram and the great spiritual traditions is simply this: You can, too.
Samuel Ogles is a writer, speaker, spiritual director, and certified Enneagram teacher living in the western suburbs of Chicago. He’s on a mission to empower others with deeper insights and a vision for change. You can support this work by subscribing to this newsletter (Free or Paid version), and you can connect with him at SamuelOgles.com.