Within our Christian community, a considerable number choose not to make their New Year's intentions official. This decision no doubt arises from various factors, one being the ubiquitous issue of time constraints. Our daily routines and numerous responsibilities leave limited time for reflection, planning, and goal execution.

Although we may have great aspirations, the real difficulty lies in turning those dreams into practical plans. One common issue is deciding between informal intention-setting and more structured goal-setting. Perhaps this reflects the idea that "the spirit is willing, but "the flesh is weak". Or, most likely, there are additional factors at play.

It could be simply a matter of not dedicating enough time to take the steps required for more formalized goal setting.

In some cases, it could just be that our hopes or aspirations for the next year are simply that: a silent or openly voiced intention, a wish, a dream or a hope.

Either way, it could be a challenge to turn our unspoken or unofficial aspirations into practical and achievable plans. Official New Year's resolutions have a very low success rate. So that leaves me to wonder how well the unofficial aspirations, hopes and dreams fare. But that's a subject for another time. If I get around to it... I hope to... 

In this article, I'm going to explore and speculate about the 'why' behind unofficial goals. I'm going out on a limb and will postulate that perhaps as Christians, when it comes to goal setting, we may struggle with trying to find a balance between being grounded on earth and having our minds set on things above.

The Interplay Between Spiritual Piety and the Human Struggle in New Year Aspirations

I can think of some possible reasons why we humans may opt for the unofficial approach to setting intentions or making wishes or goals for the New Year. I suspect there could be hints of any of these reasons for keeping our goals unofficial or perhaps to keep them to ourselves. If someone were to ask us, we might offer any of the following explanations and rationalizations:

These are all seemingly very valid reasons why we might prefer unspoken, private or quiet resolves to change something or aim for something in the next year.

Consider next the following revision of the same approaches, with slightly different reasons. If truth be told and we were to 'fess up to ourselves, might there be some truth to these also? Be prepared for a bit of irony and not-so-subtle humour, and realize that I’m including myself in this list of justifications and foibles that we humans are prone to when it comes to setting intentions, at New Year's or any other time.

We may find hints of ourselves in both versions of these lists if we’re being honest. The rationalization in both lists might be both self-convincing and self-convicting. This might reflect the delicate balance we, as Christians, may find ourselves struggling to manage. It’s an ongoing dance between keeping ourselves grounded on the earth in our daily realities and wanting to keep our minds on things that are above. So, we might find ourselves perhaps using pious spiritual reasoning while acknowledging our human tendency to falter, which sometimes comes across as weak attempts to justify or even fool ourselves. We constantly juggle our genuine desire to reflect our new nature and show true piety while the struggle with our old nature remains very real.

As I think about why we humans, particularly as Christians, may not express our goals and aspirations or make them official, it occurs to me that we may be struggling between lofty spiritual and practical reasoning and weak moral character.

So, it could, for example, be a lack of time (physical reality) AND wanting to let God write the page of the next year (spiritual truth) AND failure to take the time to reflect and make a renewed commitment (justifying our old nature). The practical realities of life are very real and need to be considered, and so are the spiritual truths and realities. So we're off the hook, right? We do the best we can, so it's best just to keep things unofficial, we might reason.

We can couch the reasons for not being more intentional in setting goals or commitments in all kinds of pious rationalizations, which may contain within them elements of truth. But our rationalizations may also ring hollow, as they may disguise a bit of the struggle with our old nature: the new Adam showing the beginnings of sanctification but still fighting with the old Adam - a struggle that will continue as long as we are alive in our fallen mortal bodies. 

Lingering Questions

As individuals guided by Christian principles, we may struggle to articulate and formalize our goals. This may be partly due to the challenge of navigating the dance between the spiritual and practical aspects of our lives. On the one hand, we have limited time to reflect deeply on our aspirations; on the other, we need to commit to achieving them. We may justify our reluctance to set clear goals by thinking we are doing our best amidst life's complexities. However, is this reasoning truly accurate, or might it be a comfortable refuge from the demands of intentional goal-setting?

This leaves me with some lingering questions, which you might be asking as well:

• Should we make it a practice to reflect at the end of the year whether there are areas where we should renew our commitment to our Christian walk of life? 
• Is the work that's required for official goal-setting and setting intentions part of what it takes to develop a stronger moral character?
• Do we sometimes use physical and spiritual realities and truths to justify and explain the weaknesses of our old nature?
• What are the impacts on ourselves and others when we don't manage well the tensions of living life grounded on the earth, with our minds set on things above?
• Would it be helpful to make space for goal setting when there is a transition marked by the physical act of turning to a new calendar?

Wrapping it up...

Reflecting on why we might refrain from voicing resolutions and whether it might be partly due to a clash between pious spiritual reasoning and moral shortcomings left me with lingering questions. And that led me to wonder whether we can learn something from earlier generations of believers.

Considering the reasons for and against setting intentions for the future, I wonder if we could look to the wisdom and insights that can be gleaned from the experiences of those in ancient and not-so-ancient times.

How did they manage the struggle between the aspirations of the new self and the lingering shadows of the old self?

How did they manage the tensions of living with both feet on the ground and their minds set on things above?

Questions, questions!! I have lots - and what about you? Join the conversation! Check the options below this post.

Join me in the next post, where I'll explore this further. 

Until then, stay curious.

In a previous post, I noted that in recent years, resolutions to strengthen one’s character, to be more "religious," or to focus on spiritual growth all but disappeared in the 21st century. This was confirmed by a YouGov survey conducted in Canada in 2019. 

In 2022, a poll indicated that just over 14% of Canadians said they didn’t make any New Year’s resolutions at all. Of those who did make resolutions, 22.3% of Canadians were going to focus on their financial goals like saving money, investing, budgeting and/or paying off debt in the new year. Others said they planned to advance their careers (6.6%), improve their relationships (5.3%), travel (4.9%), learn new skills (3.9%), break bad habits (3.7%) and work on spiritual growth (2.9%).

A new survey from Forbes Health/OnePoll of 1,000 U.S. adults conducted in October, 2023 looked at Americans’ attitudes surrounding resolution setting and what types of goals were prioritized.

Interestingly, this survey highlighted that the New Year’s resolution for 2024 most commonly selected was fitness, which contrasts with findings from the previous year. The previous survey in 2022 showed that many people were prioritizing their mental health, rather than their physical health, in their resolutions for 2023.

Of those who responded to the survey, 62% said they felt pressured to set a New Year's resolution, with women (64%) feeling slightly more pressured than men (60%).

Of those setting goals for 2024, 45.5% reported having as many as three goals.

If you're one of those who set ambitious goals for the new year only to lose motivation a few months (or weeks) down the line, you're not alone.

The Forbes Health/One Poll survey found that the average resolution lasts just 3.74 months.

According to an Ipsos study, 78% of Canadians reported that they failed to keep all or part of their past resolutions. Just two in ten Canadians (22%) had managed to keep all their resolutions in the past.

Imagine Meg, a busy Christian mom of five young and adolescent children, whom you saw last at a New Year's Eve party. You recall that she enthusiastically shared with you a resolution to deepen her involvement in community outreach through her church. Fast forward to June, and you meet her in an elevator. 

You: Hey Meg, how's it going? The last time we talked was at the New Year's Eve party at your place. I remember you really wanted to get more involved in community outreach with your church. I was excited for you, listening to you share your New Year's resolution."

Meg: "Hey! Oh, you know how it goes, busy as ever! So, about that community outreach resolution... well, it's been a bit of a challenge. With the kids' school activities, church events, and just the day-to-day chaos, finding time has been tough. I did manage to volunteer at a couple of events, but it's not as consistent as I hoped. Life just gets in the way sometimes, you know? I'm still trying, though. Maybe when the kids are a bit older, it'll be easier."

You: "That's too bad. I remember you were so excited and you had read some books about prioritizing your goals and aligning them with your core values. I'm curious why that didn't work for you?"

Meg: "Yeah, I remember that New Year's enthusiasm. You know, life just kind of took over. It's hard to stick to the plan when unexpected things pop up all the time. The kids had more activities than I anticipated, my husband's work got busier and, well, it's just a small business with a few employees, but I do the office work, I order supplies, do the invoicing and billing, the payroll and accounts and bookkeeping... and, to be honest, some days I'm just too tired to do much else. I did feel really guilty the other day when the outreach ministry team put out a call for help, and I really felt I had to say yes... but it's like there's always something demanding my attention. We had a sermon the other day about giving more, and I feel like I need to pick up a few more shifts in the hospital. I only work very part-time, but life with five kids is unpredictable, and balancing everything can be a real juggling act."

New Year's resolutions are not a new tradition. The earliest recorded New Year's resolutions were made by the ancient Babylonians around 4,000 years ago. They celebrated the New Year with a 12-day festival called Akitu around 2000 B.C. This festival marked the beginning of the farming season and involved crowning the king and making promises to pay debts, and making promises to the gods in hopes of receiving good fortune in the coming year. One common resolution among the Babylonians was to return borrowed farm equipment. Their New Year began in mid-March, the start of the farming season, so this resolution was important in an agriculturally-based society. They could incur the favour of the gods if they kept their promises.

The Romans adopted the New Year tradition but changed the timing to January, with the new Julian calendar being initiated in 46 B.C. January was named for the two-faced god Janus, who looked forward to new beginnings as well as backward for reflection and resolution. The Romans gave sacrifices to Janus and made promises of new beginnings and better behaviour in the year ahead.

In the Middle Ages, in Medieval Europe, the practice of making resolutions found its way into Christianity, and the promises at the start of the year took on a moral and religious tone. People pledged to lead better lives, develop stronger moral character or work ethic, and exercise more restraint in the face of earthly temptations. 

In contemporary times, the tradition continues in both secular and Christian practices. There has, however, been a shift to making resolutions around self-improvement with regard to personal habits, health and lifestyle changes. 

According to research done by Isidor Thorner, New Year's resolutions stem from the Protestant tradition of lifelong emotional discipline. Adherents of Ascetic Protestantism, while emphasizing hard work and denial of worldly pleasure and earthly indulgence, believed that material wealth and worldly success were signs of spiritual uprightness and God's favour. 

New Year’s resolutions as a Christian practice might have originated from Watch Night New Year's Eve services popularized by the Methodist church in England in the 18th century at the time of John Wesley. The Methodist churches were strongly influenced by the Moravian Church and Radical Pietism in general. In the Moravian Church, congregations observe a three-hour watchnight service on New Year's Eve, which is preceded by the celebration of the lovefeast, dating back to at least 1733.

The Watch Night services were a way to ring in the New Year in a more spiritual, contemplative way, as opposed to raucous, all-night partying and "revelling." Watchnight services (also called Watchnight Mass) are late-night Christian church services that have become common in many Christian denominations. 

The services were an opportunity for reflection on the past year and also became opportunities for spiritual resolutions of self-improvement for the coming year. It's interesting to note that only English-speaking, Protestant countries like Australia, England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and South Africa have a strong tradition of making New Year’s Resolutions.

Fast forward to contemporary times: it used to be that people dedicated their lives to their conception of God, but now it's more common to make New Year's resolutions to lose weight and exercise regularly.

Looking back at past New Year's resolutions, it seems that Americans' top resolutions used to have a more "spiritual" quality than they do now. (Almendrala)

Resolutions For 1947 - Gallup Poll

1. Improve my disposition, be more understanding, control my temper
2. Improve my character, live a better life
3. Stop smoking, smoke less
4. Save more money
5. Stop drinking, drink less
6. Be more religious, go to church oftener
7. Be more efficient, do a better job
8. Take better care of my health
9. Take greater part in home life
10. Lose (or gain) weight

"The typically Protestant character of these resolutions is self-evident," says Thorner. (Cited by Almendrala, A., 2017)

Note that in 1947, some people actually resolved to gain weight. Compare the 1947 list to University of Scranton’s list for 2014, in which weight loss shoots to the top, and resolutions to strengthen one’s character or be more religious all but disappear.

We can see a shift in the nature of the resolutions in the 21st century, where they seem less "spiritual". 

Resolutions For 2014

1. Lose weight
2. Getting organized
3. Spend less, save more
4. Enjoy life to the fullest
5. Stay fit and healthy
6. Learn something exciting
7. Quit smoking
8. Help others in their dreams
9. Fall in love
10. Spend more time with family                             

Sociologists suggest that people prioritize weight loss over other meaningful resolutions because it is associated with social status, moral virtue, and financial wealth. People diet for reasons like looking better, dealing with stigma, feeling normal, or making their children proud, rather than prioritizing health.

Having a slim and toned physique is often associated with high social status, as it requires significant investments in personal chefs, trainers, and gym memberships. This is why weight loss is a common New Year's resolution. However, some argue that modern priorities are sad and selfish, when, for example, they prioritize weight loss over more meaningful resolutions like give more to charity or being more involved in social causes and helping the needy, or being a better friend or parent.

However, medical sociologist Natalie Boero has argued that weight is actually tied up with all sorts of moral and spiritual issues in today's society. A trim figure is seen as a sign of goodness, responsibility, and self-discipline, which is not that far from how the New Year's resolution began in America. Dieting or physical transformation is often part of New Year's resolutions, and since the mid-twentieth century, weight and health have been associated with moral virtue.

According to medical sociologist Natalie Boero, when people are asked why they diet, health is usually not their top priority. Dieting is often about looking better, dealing with stigma, feeling normal, considering oneself dateable, or making their children proud.

Boero might be on to something there, says the writer of the Huffington Post:

"Given America’s increasing secularization, weight loss could, at least subconsciously, be a proxy for character building or the improvement of one's "disposition" as a way to signal spiritual rectitude and morality."   ~Anna Almendrala, Huffington Post

So maybe we haven't entirely lost the legacy of our Protestant history, when resolutions were tied to developing a stronger moral character and more restraint in the face of earthly pleasures.

In the intricate dance of dialogue, we often find ourselves thrust onto a tightrope of decision, facing a pivotal moment in conversation. 

Picture this: a contentious topic arises, catching us off guard and demanding an immediate response. In the heat of the moment, without a carefully planned strategy, our instincts take the lead.

For some, the knee-jerk reaction might be to fiercely defend their stance, allowing passion to fuel the words that spill forth. Others may opt for a more cautious approach, reflecting before responding or veering away from potential conflict to preserve harmony at any cost.

The decision-making process becomes a reflex, a swift reaction shaped by the interplay of personality, communication style, and the unique intricacies of the situation.

As we navigate this dance, our instinctive responses, often unchecked by conscious, intentional thought, can set the tone for the entire conversation. It's in these spontaneous reactions that the true challenge of difficult conversations emerges.

Consciously or subconsciously, we make a choice. 

Situations can swiftly evolve, both in person and on social media. It can leave us feeling caught in the undertow where the waves of emotion and differing perspectives collide on the shore of our convictions. The shifting sands beneath our feet may evoke a sense of vulnerability, prompting us to grapple with the swirling currents of our thoughts and the unpredictable responses of those around us.

As the dialogue unfolds, it becomes a dynamic interplay, starting as casual, impromptu back-and-forth conversation and suddenly shifting, like a dance where the initial easy steps give way to a more complex and unpredictable chaotic tango. In this delicate balance, emotions and convictions swirl, shaping the ebb and flow of the conversation.

Even the most skilled dancers find themselves in moments where missteps occur, toes get inadvertently stepped on, and the rhythm of the exchange transforms into a different, more challenging dance than the easy experience it started as. In these unexpected shifts, the actual test of our conversational agility arises.

But in these moments of unexpected shifts and challenging dances within dialogue, more than our conversational agility gets tested.

The resilience of our patience is challenged as we navigate through potentially turbulent exchanges. Our empathy is tested as we strive to understand differing perspectives, even when they clash with our own. The strength of our emotional intelligence comes into play, testing our ability to manage our own emotions and respond thoughtfully to the emotions of others.

Additionally, the depth of our self-awareness is tested. As we navigate conversations, we can reflect on our reactions, biases, emotional responses, and triggers. This introspection allows us to manage our responses, fostering constructive dialogue and adapting our approach with empathy.

Alternatively, we might proceed without this conscious introspection, unintentionally perpetuating unproductive patterns and communication breakdowns. Or, we might choose to withdraw from the conversation altogether, a move often rooted in fear, self-protection, or uncertainty. While this act may provide a temporary sense of safety, it also robs us of the chance to address misunderstandings, find common ground, and build stronger connections. The choice to disengage can be a shield, but it comes at the cost of potential growth and understanding.

These instances become a crucible, examining the robustness of our communication skills, emotional fortitude, and overall adaptability in the ever-shifting landscape of dialogue.