The fourth in the Series, “God Blesses Everyone: The Transformation of the Scrooge in and Around All of Us,” and based readings from Stave Four of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, 2 Corinthians 5.17-18, 1 Corinthians 15.54-55, and Philippians 1.21. The final move in Scrooge’s transformation of his life comes through this confrontation with the reality of his death. But Dickens is careful and wise to show that it’s not Scrooge’s fear of death that stirs him to change. No, no. It’s not that he’s afraid to die that stirs him with a new and passionate resolve to change his life. It’s that he comes to fear dying after having lived a meaningless life. There is a thing worse than death. For the audio recording click here.
1.
There are laws that govern the universe, rules that seem unbending, inviolable.
Take the law of gravity: on earth, the law of gravity means that what goes up, must come down; I can trust that this ball [throwing a ball in the air] is always going to come back toward my hand. It’s an important law; without it there’d be no golf or baseball, trampolines would be no fun, and a flight could land you on the moon rather than, say, Minneapolis.
Then there’s the law of love. When it comes to falling in love, it’s pretty clear that our heads play second fiddle to our hearts. Thomas Cranmer put it this way, “What the heart loves, the mind justifies.” There’s a law at work within us that’s pretty hard not to obey. You cannot tell your heart not to love what or whom it loves; our hearts often love without rhyme or reason—sometimes against our better judgement.
And there’s the second law of thermodynamics, a law that tells us that isolated systems never diminish over time, while non-isolated systems, like organisms, tend toward disintegration and death. It’s an inviolable law: none of us escapes death. We are mortal, and because none of us can escape death, we’d better make the most of our lives.
There are things we’re powerless to change or resist: gravity, love, death.
But there are other things we can change. Take our lives.
What would life be like if we were unable to change our lives—if we were stuck as we are, stuck with the consequences of the decisions we’ve made, the consequences of things we’ve done?
There’s no question that we sometimes feel stuck, like there’s some inviolable law at work within us that refuses to bend: like we can’t escape an addiction, can’t outrun a mistake that haunts us, can’t rewrite the story about ourselves that keeps us believing unhelpful things about ourselves.
Some of us feel stuck no matter what we do. Others are afraid to change. Still others refuse to change.
If you’ve ever loved an addict…if you’ve ever worked with addicts…if you’ve ever been an addict…you know there’s a law about addiction and change. It goes like this: until the pain of staying stuck inside the broken world of your addiction is greater than the pain of changing, it’s unlikely you’ll change your life. Put another way: only when the life you know becomes intolerable will you risk the life you do not know. Once more: when you finally come to know its change-or-die, you might finally choose to live a different life.
2.
This is the crisis point that comes to Ebenezer Scrooge when the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come leads him on the final journey in this dark night of the soul.
The Phantom of the Future brings such terror to Scrooge’s life that he comes face to face with the reality of his meaningless life. The pain of living as he is has finally exceeded the perceived pain of changing; the life he’s now living has become so odious, so intolerable, so unbearable, that he’s willing to risk letting that life go; Scrooge realizes that death is inescapable, and that reality pushes Scrooge over the edge and into the feelings he’s long hidden away. Grief and remorse, love and desire, mix with the holy fear of the loss of life in such a way that Scrooge is impelled by inner forces, soulful forces, to change. Because the ministry of the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future awaken in him long dormant feelings, Scrooge will, come the dawn of Christmas Day, choose to live a w/holy different life than the one he’s been living.
The final move in Scrooge’s transformation of his life comes through this confrontation with the reality of his death. But Dickens is careful and wise to show that it’s not Scrooge’s fear of death that stirs him to change. No, no. It’s not that he’s afraid to die that stirs him with a new and passionate resolve to change his life. It’s that he comes to fear dying after having lived a meaningless life.
What’s unbearable, intolerable, and unacceptable is the fact that, up to this very moment, his life has no meaning, no positive consequence, no favorable significance.
There is a thing worse than death.
What’s worse than death is not having fully lived. And if you’ve not lived full—if you’ve held back, lived small, played it safe, counted your money, put up walls—you might die with no one to grieve you, having brought too little beauty, goodness, and love into the world.
Dickens tells us that meaninglessness is a fate worse than death. We will all die. That can’t be changed. But we can change the effect of our lives; we can choose to live a meaningful life, a life of consequence and significance. “Life,” said Goethe, “is a work of art.” “The meaning of life,” said Picasso, “is to find your gift; the purpose of life is to give it away.”
3.
The Ghost of Christmas Future comes to Ebenezer Scrooge still hours before Christmas dawn, the last of Scrooge’s spiritual guides. The Phantom is shrouded and silent, only pointing the way forward—first to various groups of people Scrooge has known, fellow businesspersons, then to his own servants, whom he abused through his miserly contempt. The Spirit of the Future shows Scrooge that none of them, upon learning of his death, are saddened. There’s no one whatsoever who feels emotion upon hearing of Scrooge’s death.
Next the Phantom directs Scrooge to the home of Bob Cratchit and his family. The boy, Tiny Tim, has died. And Scrooge, watching the scene, realizes that the family of Tiny Tim, in contrast to those who knew Ebenezer Scrooge, is full of grief, inspired by a depth of love. There is a meaning, consequence, and significance. Beauty, goodness, and love characterize this family touched by the tiny boy’s short life, a life that swallows whole the meaninglessness of Scrooge’s own impending and utterly lonely death.
Finally, the Ghost and Scrooge stand in a graveyard overgrown and fallen into disrepair. The Ghost points Scrooge to a grave and the stone that stands above it. Scrooge creeps towards it, trembling as he goes. Then following the Phantom’s finger, he reads the name upon the stone: EBENEZER SCROOGE in large, capitalized letters.
“No Spirit! Oh no, no! Spirit! Hear me! I am not the man I was. Because of this night and its lessons, I will not be the man I would have been. So why show me [dead] in the grave if I am past all hope?”
For the first time [writes Dickens] the [Phantom’s] hand appears to shake.
“Good Spirit,” [Scrooge] pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it. “Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I may yet change these shadows you have shown me by an altered life!”
[Again, Dickens writes that] The kind hand [of the Phantom] trembled. [A sign that the future is not solid, not fated, but open to change.]
“I will honor Christmas in my heart,” [said Scrooge] “and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. O tell me, I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”
Scrooge’s transformation is not yet complete. He will awaken from his dreams at the dawn of Christmas Day and realize that he has a second chance at life. Given the chance, he will choose to “alter” his life: he will choose to live with meaning and purpose. He will live out the vow he spoke to the Spirit of Christmas Future. He will honor Christmas in the only way it can be honored, in his heart and by the way he lives his life. “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.”
Scrooge will die. One day his name will be on that tombstone. But not yet. He will live a meaningful life.
4.
Neither Ebenezer Scrooge nor Saint Paul see death as the great enemy. All of us will die. That’s a simple and unchanging law of the universe. But for both Paul and Scrooge, there is a fate worse than death.
What’s worse than death is to die having lived a life without meaning—without beauty, goodness, and love.
For decades now, researchers have suggested a correlation between happiness and health. Over the past twenty years, thousands of books, conferences, and a burgeoning self-help industry have sprung up touting the positive effects of happiness.
But recently, neuroscientists have found that meaning and purpose have more profound positive effects on our health than happiness does. Happiness follows meaning, not the other way around.
This is what Charles Dickens got right almost two hundred years ago. It’s not death that Ebenezer Scrooge wants to avoid that night when the Phantom showed him his grave. He knew he couldn’t avoid death. But he could avoid meaninglessness. Scrooge had lived a meaningless life—he’d pursued money and the tarnished happiness he got from it. What he didn’t have was meaning; he had nothing to commend his life as worthwhile; he’d done nothing to create a community of people he cared about, people who cared about him; he’d done nothing to bring more beauty, goodness, and love into the world.
But he could change. There is no natural law that prohibits any of us from changing, from living a life of meaning and purpose. We all can—given the right kind of help, the right kind of conditions, the right kind of companions, the right kind of spirituality.
There is a divine power within us that bends toward abundance, healing, and wholeness. And this is what Christmas means to do for all of us and for all the world—
Christ, the child who is born into each of us to make us new;
Christ, the inner teacher who guides us on the way;
Christ, the spirit of the past, present, and future;
Christ, the mysterious and creative force of the universe;
Christ, the energy that makes all things new;
Christ in you;
Christ in me;
Christ in the world—
The joyful news of Christmas is this: if that cantankerous, cruel, inhumane, meaningless miser of a man can change, then every one of us can—no one and no situation is ever without hope.
So, “what are you going to do,” asks Saint Mary Oliver, “with your one, wild and precious life?”