Photo by John Brundage

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” —Rev 21:4.

“If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.”—GK Chesterton 

“With God, every moment is the moment of beginning again.”— Catherine Doherty

How are your New Year’s resolutions going? If you grimaced when you read that question, this post is especially for you.  Unlike other years, my answer at the time of writing is, ‘so far so good!’ I resolved (albeit a few days after New Years) to be more organized with my time and living spaces. And I’m still basking in the momentum. Keeping my room clutter free still comes easily, and it still brings satisfaction and motivation. 

But I’m well aware that it’s been less than two weeks, and that most resolutions fail. Sometimes they don’t even last a day. Sometimes they get off to a strong and exciting start, and they last for a few weeks. And sometimes they even last a few months. But practically every time I’ve made a serious effort at a New Years resolution, it’s been a lesson on how long a year really is. Although a year doesn’t feel as long as it used to, the number of days hasn’t changed. Three hundred and sixty five days is still plenty of time for the novelty and positivity of a fresh start to wear off. Sooner or later the dopamine will fade. When that happens, resolutions usually aren’t deeply rooted enough to withstand a lifetime worth of conditioning to do something other than what we resolved.

This isn’t an article about how to stick with New Year’s resolutions, or how to make more realistic goals. If you’re looking for something like that, check out Atomic Habits by James Clear. I’ve especially benefited from his advice to focus on the process over the outcome, and on the two minute rule. 

Instead, I want to take some time to defend New Year’s resolutions. I find there’s a lot of cynicism surrounding them. After all, at what other time of year is the gym packed on a Monday night? To be sure, it can be hard not to roll our eyes at the shallow enthusiasm and all too predictable lapses we see every year. But I think we should do our best to avoid it. How many things were you good at the first time you tried them? How many practices and habits were you fully and successfully committed to from the very start? For how many bad habits have you said “that was the last time” more than once?

When I realized that I’d now have to hunt for a parking space at my climbing gym when I was accustomed to waltzing right in, I made a conscious decision not to be cynical. Sure, seeing the parking lot this crowded in a month would surprise me. But life is too short not to cheer people on. When I discover cynicism within myself, more often than not I find I’ve reacted that way because something has reminded me of past failures and disappointments. The epitome of a faulty defense mechanism, cynicism ends up allowing our failures and disappointments to hold ourselves and others hostage. If someone appears overconfident and naïve, I say to keep quiet and wait and see. If they are, then life will humble them soon enough without any need for our input. If they aren’t, then any snide remarks we make or smug, gatekeeping attitudes we may have will be shown for what they are. 

And for Christians, our faith reveals that cynicism isn’t a matter of calling the glass half empty. It’s calling a full glass empty. Yes, our world is still chock full of failures, disappointments, sin, and tragedies. But Jesus defeated evil and death once and for all at the cross. Our faith shows us that these are temporary birth pangs preceding a joyful future.  When Christ’s victory is finally and definitively unfolded, good will have the last word, and every tear will be wiped away. 

As Christians, one of our most important roles is to manifest the kingdom of heaven; to speed along the unfolding of Jesus’ victory. We don’t do that by wallowing in defeatism and self pity. Let’s celebrate and embrace every sincere attempt at a fresh start, especially our own ones. Whether this particular attempt fizzles out or not, our effort to begin anew is a noble act of faith in the ultimate yet already present victory of Jesus. We will one day succeed because he has already succeeded. 

John Brundage is a seminarian with the Companions of the Cross. He also writes a Substack Newsletter called Integrated Prayer.