Resolutions should include
acceptance of self

Speaking of Religion
The Rev. Dr. Tim Griffin

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
(T. S. Eliot, from "Little Gidding" in Four Quartets).

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. (John 12:24-5)

Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet. (St. Augustine, Confessions)

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
(T. S. Eliot, from "Little Gidding" in Four Quartets).

The new year is upon us. By the time you are reading this, the year 2007 will have passed and we will have entered the year 2008. If you are like me, you will have met the new year with anticipation and renewed resolve.
"Next year," I have regularly told myself, "I will be a new person. I will be kinder and less short-tempered — a resolution I have had for the past 40 years I suspect — I will eat less and exercise more — this one is also pretty well-worn by now — etc."
These are some familiar resolutions from the past. I suspect you may have some too. And yet, we have it on good testimony that we can make a new start only if we allow something else to come to an end — to die, as it were. So perhaps before we enter that pact with our self wherein we commit to a new life, we should weigh the costs of giving up our old way of life. And perhaps we should also think about what aspect of our self we would do best to give up.
After all, last year’s language is familiar, and the voice that is clamoring for change is probably not next year’s voice. That voice calling for change is probably an old familiar voice as well.
What I have in mind is this: when I contemplate change and make resolutions of the sort I mentioned above, I often do so because I dislike some aspect of myself, and I want to separate myself from it. I feel shame, and I want to hide it away where no one else can see it. In other words, I rarely seek to change in order to attain a new life. Instead I seek to change in order that I might appear more acceptable or in order that I might silence the voice that says: "You are no good because you do X."
But that voice is not next year’s voice. It is last year’s language. It is the same language with which I condemn myself year after year. And it is not "hating my life in this world," as Jesus counseled. It is rather an attempt to maintain control of my life, which is simply another version of loving my life.
In this respect, perhaps St. Augustine’s petition is the healthiest because it manifests an honest assessment of himself. He desires to be chaste, but not yet. He desires change, but he desires to satisfy his lust even more.
The question is: Can I accept those parts of myself that I do not like? Can I accept that I am not yet ready to change them? Or more to the point: Can I accept myself as I am? After all, I cannot be loved — by God or myself — for wanting to rid myself of those parts of myself I do not like. I can only be loved for who I am — warts and all.
So perhaps the resolution we should be making this year is to love and accept ourselves for who we are. Perhaps the part of ourselves that we most need to change is the voice within that says: "I am no good."
Perhaps if we can learn to accept ourselves in these ways, we will be better able to accept others and, most importantly, better able to accept God’s love for us — a love of which we may have deprived ourselves.
This year let us resolve to learn to speak a new language and in a new voice — the language of acceptance, kindness and patience with ourselves. By doing that, I believe we might truly bear much fruit. Happy New Year! ••
Father Tim Griffin is priest-in-charge at the St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, at 1946 Welsh Road in Bustleton.