Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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New Years’ resolutions are usually “dead on arrival.” That’s because they usually fail to address underlying problems. We’re sincere in our resolutions, as far as that goes. We sincerely want to lose weight, or exercise more, or stop smoking, or stop being angry all the time, or stop being so hard on those we love – but we dread (with a dreadful dread) having to look at the causes of these things in us. We want to address the symptom but not the disease. St. Paul never flinched in this regard. He knew, for example, that some in the little church at Colossea were doing things, and saying things, inappropriate for Christians. And he tells them so, right off. But by the time he gets to Chapter three he’s talking about underlying reasons, why and how they got off track, and (more important) how they can get back on. He reminds them that they are chosen ones, holy and beloved, and as such, every morning, they need to get up and clothe themselves in compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience. They need to bear with one another and forgive one another. And then they need to clothe themselves with love, “which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”

Could we make New Year’s resolutions like that: not simply resolving to stop this behavior or that, but resolving to get our hearts straight so that this or that won’t be a temptation. Let’s look at each of the mindsets, or heartsets, that Paul mentions. First, compassion: A tenderness towards others, especially those in need -- a commiseration, a slowness to blame others for their problems, but rather a “suffering with” (which is what “compassion” means). Jesus looked at the multitude and had compassion for them, John tells us, because he saw them as sheep without a shepherd. Here is a woman who comes and asks for money, or food. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to find her fault in it. She dropped out of high school, used drugs, had a baby out of wedlock, let the father off the hook. Lost the one decent job she ever had because she too often overslept. Anybody can find fault like that. But Christians, who have been transformed by Jesus, while understanding all of the above, will also find compassion. Here is a woman and child who are hungry. Nothing else needs to be said. And were we to know all the facts and circumstances of her life, we might conclude she is doing as well as might fairly be expected.
Kindness, another item for our New Year’s list, another heartset, another of the things a Christian should clothe himself in. Kindness is manifested in things as simple as manners and language, and that is often where we fail in it. We speak of “the milk of human kindness,” implying, I guess, that kindness is as much the birthright of every human being as his mother’s milk. And yet the milk’s not always there. We’re often unkind to others, sometimes not even realizing it. There was a time when kindness was built into a code of courtesy and manners, and we all knew the rules. Don’t talk with your mouth full. Walk a woman to the door. Take a bath. Don’t use profanity. Say “thank you” when you’ve been given something. Dress so you don’t look a fright. What are these rules? They are simply ways of being kind to other people. Paul says put kindness on when you get up in the morning.

Humility. “Lord, it’s hard to be humble,” the song says, “when you’re perfect in every way.” But we’re far from perfect, and Christians, above all people, know it. We enter God’s Kingdom through baptism, a cleansing ritual, and as we live in his kingdom, we confess our sins every day. When ever Christians become sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, you can be sure the holy spirit has deserted them. As soon as we begin to defend our own goodness, we’re dead. If you’re a Christian, humility comes with the territory.

Meekness, patience, forbearance (more good resolutions for our New Year’s list). And then there’s orgiveness. Now that’s a hard one. We’re not very good at forgiving. James Thurber told the story of his crusty old grandfather on his death bed, talking to the preacher who had come by.. The preacher asked him gently if he had forgiven all his enemies. “I don’t have any enemies,” the old man said. The preacher said, “Oh, come now. A tough old bird like you, who has always called a spade a spade, and has never tolerated any foolishness from anyone, how can you say you have no enemies.” The old man said calmly, “I shot them.” We’re all like that. We’d rather shoot our enemies than forgive them. But when we see how much and how fully God has forgiven us, when he might well have shot us, if we have been reborn in Jesus, we can’t help but forgive. Forgiveness is not something we owe to other people, it’s not even something we owe to ourselves (although it’s excellent for physical and mental health). Forgiveness is an act of worship, just as confession is. When we confess our sins and ask God to forgive us, we forgive all others at the same time, or else our prayer is a sham. St. Francis reminds us that it is in forgiving that we are forgiven. Mahatma Ghandi said, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attitude of the strong.” How wonderful, if (at the turning of the year) we could leave behind our bitter baggage and forgive. Let it go. Let it go.

“Above all,” Paul writes to Colossae, “clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” Sometimes I get up in the morning and put on “the perfect shirt,” and add the perfect trousers, the perfect neck tie, the perfect jacket, and then look in the mirror – and far from being perfect, it looks awful. Each part, by itself, is good, but they don’t go together. There is a real insight here about lists of human virtues. We can adopt, (put on) some wonderful Christian attributes: compassion, kindness, humility, forgiveness, but if we forget to tie it all together with love, the unifying element of all Christian ethics, we can still be very ugly. We can show compassion with strings attached. We can be kind in a condescending way. We can feign humility. We forgive and hold a grudge. Paul says it is love that “binds everything together in perfect harmony.” He says the same thing more famously, of course, in his first letter to Corinth: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am a sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. And though I have the gift of prophesy and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have faith so as to move mountains, and have not love I am nothing.” Love makes all the other virtues real.

Before we leave this passage, as we’re thinking about our spiritual plan for the year 2004, lets look at Paul’s final piece of advice: “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus….” Some things cannot be done in the name of Jesus: we cannot cheat in his name, nor lie, nor steal. We cannot exploit the stupid, or the poor, or the downtrodden in his name. We can help those less fortunate, and Paul’s words seems to say do it and be sure you do it explicitly and publicly in Jesus’ name. In other words, let people know what your motivation is. A good rule for the new year: whatever you do, do it in the name of Jesus.
Among the most remarkable invitations Christ sends to us (and an important one to remember at the turn of any year) is the invitation to leave our pasts behind. He says, and we should understand him quite literally, that he will make us new. “Old things (all old things) are passed away. A new creation. Everything is new!” Dr. Frank Harrington minister of the Peachtree Presbyterian Church, in Atlanta, says it has always bothered him, when watching track and field athletes run the hurdles, that when they knock one over they don’t stop, go back and set it up again. He says, if his mother were the coach, that certainly would be the rule: go back and fix whatever you messed up. But he has noticed, he says, that the hurdlers who win the gold metals don’t look back – they ignore the fallen hurdles and keep running toward the finish line.

Take on the virtues of Christ: compassion, kindness, forgiveness, and the rest. But know you will not live by them perfectly. You will experience some failures, knock over some hurdles. Keep on running. Look ahead, not back. Bygones really must be bygones, or we can never reach our goal. Which is a crown of righteousness. 2004 is a new year, full of possibilities. And every day is a new day with Christ.