Those New Year Resolutions

 Friends, 

 

When we lived in Iowa, we were minutes away from a YMCA, where three of our five family members worked at one point and all of us exercised regularly during the cold months. Except January. In January it was ridiculous. At times there were clipboards on the treadmill and elliptical machines, to sign up and wait for an opening. Spin, Zoomba, kickboxing, and all the other cardio classes would fill up ten minutes before start time. And those folks wrapped in towels waiting for a swimming lane, oh man. Over time we all learned that it would all be back to normal by the end of the month, so it was simply a matter of waiting. 

 

That’s how New Year’s resolutions often go, isn’t it? 

 

One challenge of making resolutions is the question of identity. Essentially, a resolution is me, telling myself, that I am going to change my habits. That kind of collective action among my multiple and often contrary impulses is a tall order. The same is true for just about any approach to “self-improvement.” It is worth noting, however, that some of those folks who started showing up at the Y in early January actually did become regulars, and many of the regulars had begun their regular habits once upon a time in early January. So, while keeping a resolution is a tall order, it is not unattainable. 

 

Another challenge of making resolutions is to look beyond our own interests or self-absorption. This point was articulated by Roger Rosenblatt in a powerful essay this week on aspiring toward other-centered commitments as a better path than the typical New Year’s resolutions. I think he is too dismissive about personal resolutions since they often pertain to matters of health and well-being. Still, Rosenblatt makes an excellent point. When we make resolutions about our actions with the larger world in view – protesting war, preserving endangered species, visiting prisoners, or writing encouraging letters to a friend – our actions can have far-reaching effects. Serendipitously, committing ourselves to others is also an act of “self-improvement.” In the great ethical paradox of Jesus, loving one’s neighbor and loving oneself can be one and the same. 

 

A huge challenge to making other-centered resolutions is that much of the results are out of our hands. A letter to an estranged friend may not be acknowledged. Advocacy to the local school board may be drowned out by other voices. A quest for justice may lose out to a generous political donation. And the sheer intractability of challenges like climate change, war, and homelessness often leaves us little to show for our actions. 

 

In the end, whether personal or otherwise, resolutions and commitments are costly. The declaration, “I will lose twenty pounds” in January is a commitment to still be exercising in August. The resolution to become a climate activist is simply the first step of a long and tiring journey. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s challenging book, The Cost of Discipleship, describes well how essential costly commitments are to being a follower of Christ. The declaration, “I have decided to follow Jesus” is a commitment to love one’s neighbor, even when that includes enemies. Commitment is costly, so making a resolution means counting the costs. 

 

How can we proceed when we count the costs, whether it is toward our own health and well-being, toward making the world more just and verdant, toward loving God and neighbor as we love ourselves, or all of the above? What keeps us moving when we failed before, or when our greatest efforts seem to be a small and forgettable speck in the large world? 

 

I suspect there is great wisdom in setting our aspirations both ideally and realistically. There are some resolutions that we can make that are measurable and achievable within our own control, whether dietary, exercise-related, or lifestyle choices. They give us specific aims for each day, and we can celebrate each step along the way. There are other resolutions that are not measurable and lie outside of our control, but are important to make anyway: To rid the world of human trafficking, to preserve the ocean by eliminating micro plastics, to bring immigration justice to the US border. Commitments of that sort may never be crossed off our ‘to do’ list, but they give us orientation and direction for our life journey. 

 

However you are resolved to live today, throughout 2024, and for the remainder of your life journey, I hope you imbibe deeply in the grace and hope of knowing that whatever you do and however you do it, you do so as God’s beloved child. 

 

Mark of St Mark