When I was about 9, my big brother’s wife gave me a paperback copy of Dickens’ The Christmas Carol, and I have been pretty much reading it every year since. And every year I get something new out of it. Now, I need to put in a plug here for reading-- or listening to-- the book itself. Film adaptations do not have the richness of the real thing (though the Muppet’s Christmas Carol comes closest). Anyway, after my latest reading, I’ve been thinking about the importance of clear vision in trying to become a better person.
In the beginning of the novella, Scrooge’s vision is impaired by more than the thick London fog that “came pouring in at every chink and keyhole,” “obscuring everything.” He cannot see that his clerk is freezing cold; he cannot see the kindness of his nephew; and most of all he cannot see his own faults. Indeed, after saying, “If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population,” Scrooge “resumed his labours with an improved opinion of himself.”
If Scrooge had made New Year’s resolutions at that time, they probably would have been 1) to make more money, 2) find a better way to collect rents, and 3) look for ways to cut expenses further. To him, these were good changes to be pursued.
As I look back on my own resolutions in the past, I think I may be guilty of the same kind of lack of vision and resulting poor goals. I tend to see myself in a positive light, and my goals are often just to improve on what I am already doing, rather than to achieve substantive change. I already work on eating well and exercising, yet that will be my goal. I already read voraciously, yet I might make a goal to read even more. Do these kinds of goals really help me to become better?
Scrooge, of course, has a series of miraculous visions which improve his vision of himself and others and lead to true change. First, Marley’s Ghost shows him his eternal fate if he continues on this path. Then, and perhaps most importantly, the Ghost of Christmas Past, allows him to look at himself from the outside—to “see himself as others see him,” as the poet Robert Burns put it. As he looks on himself growing from boy to man, he can see his own loneliness, his own missed opportunities, and his own poor choices. He begins to soften. He says, “I should like to have given [the boy singing carols] something,” and “I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now!”
The Ghost of Christmas Present expands his vision to see the good in people. Led by the Ghost’s capacious presence, Scrooge learns to feel compassion. He asks, “Spirit, tell me if Tiny Tim will live.” As he observes the vast expanse of humanity with all their sorrows and courage, he finds humility as well, saying, “Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask.” And finally, Scrooge meekly seeks to learn from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, saying, “I know your purpose is to do me good.” The sobering vision of how his life might end makes his good intentions permanent.
When Scrooge awakes on Christmas day, the sky is clear and bright, and Scrooge also has clear vision of what he has been and what he can become. He knows what he should do: be kind to his employee, give freely to charity, and perhaps most of all, establish a close relationship with his only living family, his nephew.
But here we are, trying to make good resolutions for the new year and maybe not even seeing what needs to be changed? What can we do, in the absence of friendly Ghosts to help us clear our vision? How can we see ourselves and our influence on others and make the kinds of goals that will help us to truly become better?
True confession. I reached this point in my essay three days ago. I’ve been struggling with where to go with this. I’m kind of stymied. We are so caught up in our own point of view that there is no easy way to see ourselves and others clearly.
This is all I can come up with as a possible answer. We can learn about ourselves and what we need to change, but only if we cultivate a spirit of humility, only if we are open to seeing ourselves from an outside perspective. We need to attend, to direct our attention to the issue, to be present in our interactions with others, to search for clues.
As we spend time with others, we can watch to see how they react to what we do and say. When the time is right, we can ask others for advice on how they see us. Most of all we can pray, and ask our Heavenly Father, who knows and loves us best, what we can do to be better.
This will be hard work. It will take both meekness and courage. I will need to listen to what I learn without being defensive. When I have a disagreement with someone, rather than assuming it is all their fault, I will have to hold in my heart the reality that it is also my fault and look for ways I can change to make myself and the situation better.
I’ve decided, rather than choose a particular trait to work on as a New Year’s Resolution, I am going to make that effort to attend, to watch for ways I can improve and try to do it.
Hard, but worth it, as Scrooge finds on that glorious Christmas morning when he lets go of all his sins and feels “as light as a feather.” He loves the knocker of his house, he loves Marley, the ghosts, and all that brought about his change. True change, true repentance, brings great joy.
Scrooge “became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a [person], as the good old city knew.” And so might we, as we learn to see ourselves clearly, to see how we need to change, and then make the effort to actually change. A big order, but we don’t need to do it in one night. Little by little, bit by bit, we can grow to become better. And all along the way, like Scrooge, “[our] own hearts [will] laugh.”
