Wednesday, January 4, 2017

                To quote Garfield the cat from a few days ago: “Brand new year; same old me.”  The only New Year’s resolution that I made was not to make any New Year’s resolutions. Nuts!  I just broke that one.

And that is why I don’t make New Year’s resolutions – the sense of inevitable futility.

I could resolve – should resolve? -  to walk the dog more frequently, lose a few pounds, fix the door knob on the basement door, build those book shelves that I need, tackle cleaning out the basement, but I should have done, could have done, and didn’t do any of those things last year. I am a model of inert consistency!

A little while ago my nearly 4-year-old grandson asked me why I always had peanut butter and toast for breakfast. Rather critically, I might add. His father then told him that even when he was the same age as William that I had peanut butter and toast for breakfast. Hey, sometimes I use Skippy peanut butter rather than Kraft peanut butter. Or I really go outside the envelope and add jam or honey. Every once in a while I go really wild and try chunky peanut butter.

Brand new year; same old me. I don’t let hanging up a new calendar intimidate me, let me tell you! You know what they say – if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Or my version, even if it is broke, just ignore it.

I am reluctant to confess that this seems very contrary to the Christian way of life which celebrates the new creation which comes with being a follower of Jesus. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17) I will admit that I have a lot of days when it is the same old, same old. How about you? My get up and go has got up and went. I don’t want “new”; I want my old favourite sweater, sweat pants and slippers.  

But God apparently gets a kick out of anything new about his sons of Adams and daughters of Eve. I guess the old you and me aren’t perfect; so Jesus comes along and suggests we seek a new birth; to be “born again”, a concept that gets a lot of stereo-typical, bad press as a conservative, evangelical catch-phrase. But at its best and most meaningful it is a beautiful metaphor for human do-overs, second chances, finding redemption, being given hope for the future, finding wholeness despite any baggage we are carrying, the healing of old wounds, the letting go of the past, the passing on of forgiveness to others, the renewal of heart, mind, soul and body and ultimately reconnecting with our Creator and pleasing God with the best of our abilities, gifts, talents and love.

“What counts is the new creation,” (Galatians 6:15).

One of my favourite hymns begins: Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me. Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me. Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me. Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me.

Amen to that! 

Dale