"Good Intentions" given 1/1/17

"Sir," said Dr. Samuel Johnson, in a manner that must have been downright pontifical. "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

I didn't know until I wrote this sermon that Johnson, the foremost English literary critic and wit of the 1700s had first coined that expression. Frankly, I'd always assumed that it came from the Bible. Sounds like something that Paul would say in one of his letters, doesn't it. "Brethren, I caution ye, for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ, that the road to Hell is paved with thy good intentions."

Paul might well have said it-- from experience. His good intentions to purify and protect Judaism from the heresy of Christianity led directly to the persecution of the earliest church and indirectly to the martyrdom of Stephen. The Magi might have said, by stopping at king Herod's court and naively asking directions to baby Jesus' manger, they inadvertently caused the Slaughter of the Holy Innocents in Bethlehem. Then and again, for all you and I know, Dr. Johnson might have said it out of bitter experience, too.

There is no doubt, that many of us might have said it as well. How many times have you and I found that the consequences of our actions-- made out of the very best of intentions-- have come back to haunt us? And iwhat's doubly frustrating, is when those who have brought us to task for those actions, refuse to even acknowledge the possibility of our original, honest, good intentions.

Maybe that's why our New Year's resolutions so often don't work out. The idea seems good. Since it's a whole new year, what better time for me to start getting my life in better order? What better time to get back to exercising, go on a diet, get more regular in my devotional life, hug my kid ever day, and clean out my “Goombaleck”-- my "Fibber McGee" basement.

New Year's resolutions are a great thing-- if we keep' em. Too often though, they go the way of all purely human endeavor. Our resolutions are only as good as the persistent effort and on-going self-discipline we are willing to put behind them.

One thing that I know is in the Bible is Jesus' own observation in the Garden of Gethsemane that "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." And it's true. If our resolutions are good, but our will power is poor-- the whole effort is wasted. Indeed, if we get too discouraged with our failed resolutions, we might even end up buying into the defeatist line of "What's the use-- nothing does any good. I'm too weak. I can't change."

And at that point, our good intentions might indeed just as well be filling pot-holes in the back alleys of Hades for all the good they're doing us.

Good intentions, New Year's resolutions, promises to change, projects for self-improvement all share a single fatal weakness. They're all predicated on the view that I'm going to be able to mend what's broken in my life. They assume that I can fix up my old selfish, sinful way of living-- alone. That's the view behind Positive Mental Attitude, behind Your Eroneous Zones, behind Seven Habits of Effective People, behind One Minute Manager, behind EST, behind Weight Watchers, behind all the various humanistic, pop-psychology, self-help fads.

They all assume that human nature is fixable-- like a broken toy we can mend in the basement tool bench a couple of weeks after Xmas. They treat the human mind as a computer that we can program at will, just as long as we've got the right Operating System. It's in my power-- I just have to want it badly enough. I can accomplish anything-- if my desire is great enough.

When we lived iin Chicago, our daughter Gwyneth had a first grade teacher named Mrs. Jackson-- a terrific person and a terrific teacher-- who would teach the kids whenever they were stumped in their schoolwork to pause, catch their breath, and recite a little rhyme with hand gestures. "I can do it, I can do it, if I put my mind to it."

Once, when I was touring the school, I walked outside a class of seventh graders, taking a test. As I looked in, I could see some of them, their hands under their desks making the motions as they silently mouthed to themselves—

"I can do it, I can do it, if I put my mind to it." That was more than a cute saying. It was a highly useful attitude to teach to an ambitious school kid in the ghetto. The esteem and self-confidence it gave them was no doubt a blessing.

But you and I know that there are some things in life we can't do, even if we do put our minds to it-- not alone that is. Our resolutions, our self-discipline, our PMA, our Jedi

mind tricks, our crafty effort, our salesmanship and determination and positive self-image can make us rich, can carry us across the finish lines, can even get us elected President. But, not always. Some people can keep their New Year's resolutions. But not everybody.

Hell-- or the road to it-- is indeed paved with our resolutions, our best laid plans, our well-thought-out projects, our careful scenarios, our good-- our very best intentions. Ultimately, these things won't carry the day for us. Ultimately they are all based on human minds and hearts and wills. Thus, all the resolutions in the world are subject to the limitations of our fallen, fallible, human nature.

Does it sound as if I'm painting a bleak picture of humanity's capacity for change? Do I sound like a harbinger of doom and despair? I hope not. The truth is, I do believe in our capacity to change. I do believe that our everyday existence is constantly being challenged with opportunities. I do believe that the future is open. I do believe, hope, pray for, expect a better world, a better life, a better humanity, a new humanity, a new world, a new life.

"Behold, I make all things new", says the Ancient of Days on the Throne of Heaven, in the Book of Revelation. But this is more than a vision of the Heavenly Realm, the Kingdom yet to come. It is also a promise that all this is already accomplished.

"Look, I make all things new.. write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true... it is already done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end."

Not mended. Not fixed up. Not renovated or re-habbed. New. Made new. Our God promises us new lives.

That's a radical promise. How many of us can really believe that? How many of us can accept that with a whole heart? But the truth is, that promise of total newness has already been accomplished-- accomplished in a borrowed manger in a cold cave 2017 years ago, more or less.

Are we ready for that sort of newness? Can we handle the fact in following the Babe of Bethlehem, you and I can be transformed into totally new people? Are we sure we want that? Do I really want to give up my quirks, my prejudices, my little vices, my guilt? Am I ready to surrender my envy, my unresolved grudges, my anger, my lusts, my secret sins? How much of them make me myself? Or do they make me less than the full, kind, loving, generous person that I am capable of becoming, that God calls me to become?

You and I don't really have to make New Year's resolutions. We have something better. You and I are invited to enter into a new Covenant. There's a profound difference. We don't "make" a covenant. We enter into it. We don't "make" a family. We enter into it. A covenant is a relationship of mutual love and trust. It is a two-way commitment that we make with our Maker. We follow-- God's Spirit will empower.

To enter into God's Covenant is to allow ourselves to be graced by the power of the Creator's love to make us into new people. It is to begin to lead new lives of love and outreach.

The new Covenant that you and I are invited to enter stretches back beyond our birth-- back beyond the cross which sealed it-- to the manger where it began. It will continue to the end of time. It is history, presence, and promise-- all rolled into one. The new Covenant is God's personal promise of Divine love and power for us.

It does not mend the broken-ness of our existence. It transforms that existence. It does not fix-up our lives. It makes them new. We become new people. Not simply better people-- new people.

Absolutely everything that we wish we could leave behind-- our miserliness, our pettiness, our selfishness, our pride, our anger-- gets washed away. Granted, they'll come back if we let them. I know from personal experience that a dieter who loses over fifty pounds can very easily go back to old eating habits-- and find that the pounds have come back. Just like that dieter needs to find new ways to eat-- you and I have to find new ways to lead our lives. You and I have to open our selves up to the power of God in our lives and enter into that Covenant.

"I'm gonna change my way of living and if that ain't enough, I'll even change the way I strut my stuff." We will have to change our way of living if we enter the Covenant. But then, if we do, we will one day look around and find ourselves leading lives of love and service. We will one day look around and find ourselves leading new lives—lives of hope, lives filled with meaning, lives of joy, lives that are blessed.

The power to do it will be there. That's the promise. That's another part of the difference between resolutions and covenants. How are we supposed to change the way we strut our stuff? The model is Jesus. The way is faithful discipleship.

That new way of living is laid out for us in His blessings--the Beatitudes and in His teachings and parables. Remember the one about the sheep and the goats? The meaning of Jesus’ parable is clear-- the most obvious measure of the new life Christ invites us to lies in it.

How do we treat the little ones-- the needy, the hurting, the broken ones He called His brothers and sisters, here in our own little corner of God's world? How do we make the Creator's love manifest in this life? How do we carry on the ministry of Jesus Christ in our world? How do we? We pray. We discern the answer. We live out the answer we get.

Let us pray,

Living God, moved by the coming of Christ into our lives, we seek to be your people. Help us live in faithful Covenant with you and with one another. Let the peace of Christ guide us. And let His message in all its richness take root and begin to live in our hearts-- that our lives, along with our tongues, may praise you without ceasing. Amen.