By Rev. Dr Olatunbosun Larry Olaofe
Introduction: When a Rehabilitation Badge Met a Scripture
It was a crisp autumn morning in London, my community rehabilitation officer
ID laid to rest in my desk drawer, when I traced my fingers over Romans 12:1-2
and whispered, “Am I laying down a role, or picking up a deeper calling?” After
decades as a healthcare professional tending to homeless people on cold
streets, guiding ex-offenders through reintegration, and supporting vulnerable
communities, I’d retired, but rest felt like restlessness. My hands, trained to
advocate and heal, ached for purpose beyond the office.
For years, I’d also led youth camp evangelical outreach; now, as a father,
husband, and youth and community discipleship leader, those verses I’d
memorised as a teen took on new weight: “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and
sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy
and pleasing to God this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to
the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is his good, pleasing
and perfect will.”
I’d once read this as a call to abandon comfort, but that morning, it revealed
itself as a blueprint for a transformational mind-set: turning sacrifice into
connection, conformity into compassion, and professional skill into
discipleship. This is my journey rooted in biblical truth, psychological insight,
and the messy, human work of living out faith in everyday life.
Unpacking Romans 12: Historical and Theological Roots
To grasp the “living sacrifice,” we must ground it in context. Written by Paul
around 57 CE to a diverse Roman church Jews and Gentiles grappling with
identity and division scholar N.T. Wright argues this call stands in radical
contrast to Old Testament animal sacrifices: temporary, physical, focused on
atonement. Instead, Paul frames worship as a daily, embodied practice offering
every part of oneself: thoughts, hands, relationships, and labour [Wright,
2018]. This is not self-erasure but self-realisation in God.
Biblical scholar Karen Jobes notes the Greek “metamorphosis” (transformed)
shares roots with “metamorphosis”—evoking the gradual, radical shift of a
caterpillar to butterfly [Jobes, 2019]. It’s no sudden switch but a mind-renewal
that reshapes how we see ourselves, others, and our purpose.
For me, this redefined sacrifice. I’d thought of it as losing my rehabilitation
credentials, my routine, and my sense of professional identity. But Paul’s
words showed it was gaining alignment: using my social well-being training to
listen to homeless people’s stories of survival, my rehab experience to walk
alongside ex-offenders, my youth camp work to mentor teens, and my family
role to model faith. This shift became my revolutionary foundation.
Bridging Faith and Psychology: The Science of Renewal
As I explored this, I discovered striking overlaps between Paul’s call and
modern psychology. Carol Dweck’s growth mind-set research shows those who
believe abilities can develop are more resilient and open to challenge mirroring
Paul’s rejection of the world’s fixed definitions of success (wealth, status) and
invitation to renewal [Dweck, 2006].
Further, self-transcendence research in positive psychology connecting to
something greater than oneself supports the “living sacrifice” as a path to well-
being. A 2022 Journal of Positive Psychology study found altruistic, purpose-
driven behaviour boosts life satisfaction and reduces stress [Smith et al., 2022]
aligning with Paul’s promise of a “good, pleasing and perfect” life for individual
and community.
My experience echoed this. After retiring, I began leading discipleship sessions
that blended my rehab expertise with faith addressing mental health barriers
to reintegration for ex-offenders and connecting homeless individuals to
community support. At first, I feared my professional skills were “wasted” but I
soon realised I was redeploying them: listening for trauma, guiding self-care,
and advocating for systemic change. The growth mind-set helped me embrace
the learning curve of grassroots ministry, while self-transcendence filled the
void left by formal practice. I offered my expertise as a living sacrifice and
found renewed purpose.
Living Sacrifice in Practice: Everyday Discipleship
A transformational mind-set thrives in small, intentional choices. Romans 12:3-
16 outlines humility, empathy, hospitality, and unity—values I’ve lived out
across my roles.
Humility: Letting Go of the “Officer” Label
Romans 12:3 warns against overestimating ourselves. As a community
rehabilitation officer, I’d worn the “authority” badge proudly—facilitating
plans, mediating conflicts. But humility, I learnt, is a practical self-assessment
rooted in appreciation. A 2021 Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin study
found humility fosters collaboration and adaptability [Tangney et al., 2021].
For me, this meant admitting I knew little about the complex realities of
homelessness when I started in that space. I partnered with shelter workers,
asked questions, and let those with lived experience lead conversations about
their needs. This humility built trust and opened doors to meaningful change.
Empathy: Seeing Image-Bearers in Crisis
Romans 12:15 calls us to “rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those
who mourn.” Empathy is the heart of sacrifice, recognising every person as
God’s image-bearer, even in the depths of struggle. A 2023 Journal of Social
Psychology study found empathetic communication reduces conflict and builds
trust [Lee & Jones, 2023].
In youth camp, I listened to teens share anxiety about identity; with homeless
people, I held space for grief over lost homes and relationships; with ex-
offenders, and I validated pain over wasted years. My social well-being training
taught me to listen for unspoken trauma—and my faith taught me to meet it
with love. This empathy transformed relationships, turning judgment into
understanding.
Hospitality: Creating Space for Belonging
Romans 12:13 encourages hospitality. For me, this meant moving beyond
polite gestures to a tangible welcome. My family began hosting monthly meals
for homeless individuals, ex-offenders, and their families where we shared
warm food, stories, and hope. Research shows hospitality strengthens social
cohesion and reduces isolation [Brown et al., 2022]. For one man, fresh out of
prison and without family, these dinners were his first taste of belonging in
years. For my child, it was a lesson in loving their neighbour unconditionally.
Offering my home as a sacrifice created
