The New Year and Escalators

Well, it has been quite some time since I've written. My inability to consistently contribute vexes me to no end. But given the fact that I'm teaching 8 course this term, I guess I have a legitimate excuse. I only wish I had more discipline. If I could only wake up at 6 every morning, go for a run, spend time in prayer, write, read, and then move on to work then I'd find more balance. But let's get real. There are a lot of disappointments in life and perhaps the most significant one is self. Ideals are rarely fulfilled, disciplines often fall by the wayside, and good intentions grow into thorns instead of gardens. The multiple failures serve to squash any faith that substantial change will occur. Okay, it's January again so I'm ranting about rusty resolutions. I'm really not as depressed as this blog makes me out to be, but I'd like to turn a corner. As I think about it, perhaps breaking bad habits and developing new ones is a slow arduous process that may be somewhat indiscernable unless we take a long term inventory. In my own life there has been change, albeit incremental. I think life is like walking up an escalator that's going down. As long as you're moving you won't go backwards, and as long as you're moving slightly faster than the steps you'll make some progress. I guess the key is to just not stop.

New Year's resolution revolution... part 2

The reason, however, I believe that we fail so miserably and consistently is that these efforts are seated solely in our own will; in our ability to somehow pick ourselves up by our bootstraps and make it happen. While it may work at times for some, a holistic standard that addresses all areas that need improvement is quite obviously unattainable. To recognize this is a serious stride in personal growth because, in fact, through this revelation we’ve brushed against the glass ceiling of the divine. If we acknowledge that there is a standard for which we strive that surpasses our ability to attain, then we admit through our conception of that standard and our desire to achieve it that there is a “good” beyond us. Yet our longings for change testify that it should be in us

There is a need then to recognize the futility of our effort. This does not, however, mean abandoning the attempt. It means rather moving beyond our individualistic and godless paradigm when scribbling down the ‘to-do’s and the ‘to-don’t’s come January 2nd. There is a paradox of sorts in Christianity which demonstrates how acknowledged weakness leads to strength. A verse from the first epistle to the Corinthians in the New Testament beautifully illustrates this paradox. It says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” This metaphor points to us, our bodies as the empty vessels, yet calling them treasures. Why? Because through the recognition of our own emptiness, we come to realize our purpose – to be filled with the all surpassing power of God. The good that was beyond us fills us and satisfies the deepest standard for which we strive. Of course, it takes a long time (perhaps a lifetime) to fully realize the implications of such a union. But perhaps finding another unused schedule or list will be a good reminder.

New years’ resolution revolution...part 1

I have a new schedule for my life. You know the kind – those hour by hour to do lists created in an excel worksheet (in a momentary lapse of realism), printed up and pinned up in a prominent place where you’ll be reminded daily of your new year’s plagues… or pledges rather. Mine has me getting up 6am every morning. It’s now sitting sadly (or to my wife, humorously) on my dresser, reminding me daily how I fail at achieving my new standards of discipline. It was doomed before it was conceived really. My wife knows this, and that is why she finds it funny. She’s found them all over the place: in the junk drawer, in a file on my computer, in my desk, and yes, initially on the dresser or stuck to the refrigerator. I’m sure I create a new one at least twice a year. I know better than to label these schedules (or lists) “new year’s resolutions”, but inevitably one of the editions comes out some time in January.

Why is that? From whence comes the impulse every new year to make another list that will almost certainly follow the fate of the previous twenty as fuel for the furnace of our guilt or inadequacy? Despite my harsh assessment, I propose a noble intent – the desire for transformation. We all want to change. We want to dump the old bad habits and pick up new good ones. By coming up with new year’s resolutions, we admit that we regularly fall short of the standards that we’ve seemingly set for ourselves. We admit that there is a greater good that we are struggling to attain...