2022 will soon come to an end like every year before it. We have an opportunity, whether we use it or not, to reflect on all the year has brought—a noble practice, even if some of us aren’t natural at this type of appreciation.
A friend recently posed the question on Instagram: “What’s one thing you did in 2022 that you’re proud of?” A despair gutted me as I failed to recall a single accomplishment. I’ve been so occupied with school and work that my dreams must have passed me by.
But my spirits rose again as the realization struck: I did release music, launched this Substack, and even started a podcast with my brother—all in 2022. That’s three major endeavors. You’d think I’m making up for lost time.
The closing of a year—even the best years—is always a mixed bag. I have plenty to be grateful for, but sadness tinges the experience. All semester I grumble over how busy I am, only to regret it as I finally pull off the campus.
As one of my final assignments this semester, I read Charles Dickens’ The Christmas Carol. I’d never read the book, though I was generally familiar with the story. It did take some adjusting to picture Scrooge as a man rather than a McDuck.
We know that Ebeneezer Scrooge is a tight-fisted businessman. He grips his wealth with great determination, resolved not to waste a penny (he eats gruel on Christmas, after all). The story’s great miracle is his transformation into a man of warm and generous spirit.
But as far as Scrooge is concerned, the miracle may be something different—involving not money, but time.
Awakening from the final visitation, he scrambles about his room. The bedpost and bed help Scrooge place where he is, but he doesn’t know when he is:
“I don’t know what day of the month it is!” said Scrooge. “I don’t know how long I’ve been among the Spirits. I don’t know anything…”
Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious! Glorious!
“What’s to-day!” cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him.
“EH?” returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.
“What’s to-day, my fine fellow?” said Scrooge.
“To-day!” replied the boy. “Why, CHRISTMAS DAY.”
“It’s Christmas Day!” said Scrooge to himself. “I haven’t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!”
The Spirits have done it all in one night.
Scrooge has gone through quite a whirlwind of events since arriving home on Christmas Eve. Three ghosts have whisked him away to scenes past, present, and future—apparently breaking the forecast of Scrooge’s deceased partner, Marley.
Earlier, Marley’s ghost had warned Scrooge of the coming visitations, offering a very specific timeline:
“Expect the first to-morrow, when the bell tolls One.”
“Couldn’t I take ’em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?” hinted Scrooge.
“Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate.
Tomorrow, and the next night, and the next. It’s difficult to square this timeline with Scrooge’s falling asleep on Christmas Eve and awaking on Christmas Day.
Did Dickens make a mistake? Certainly not. His character Scrooge notes bizarre movings of time throughout the book’s pages. There must be something about the peculiar timing that he wants us to consider.
Only days after finishing The Christmas Carol, I was reading from the Gospel of John. I came to a familiar story: Jesus’ miracle of water into wine.
Like my experience with Dickens, you’re likely aware of this Bible passage, even if you’ve never read it.
On Jesus’ instruction, guests at the wedding fill jars with water that will suddenly become wine. The master of the wedding banquet is the first to taste:
He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. [He] said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”
In other words: this is good wine.
I’m no sommelier, but I know that time is paramount for a wine’s quality. And it can’t be faked. How “aged” was Jesus’ instant wine to elicit such a positive response—five years? Ten? Like Dickens’ spirits, Jesus’ workings are outside of temporal limitation.
The sadness at the close of a year is rooted in a sense of lost time. We sense lost opportunity. The lie we believe is that it’s too late to try.
As it turns out, the very matter tormented Scrooge. At the story’s climax, he begs the silent Ghost of Christmas Future to answer whether his fate is sealed:
“Spirit!” he cried, tight clutching at its robe, “hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope!”
For the first time the hand appeared to shake.
“Good Spirit,” he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: “Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!”
The kind hand trembled.
“I will honour 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. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”
The moment clearly affects Scrooge; after this scene, we see he is transformed. Notice, though, that he never receives a reply. The next words Scrooge hears spoken are those of the boy outside the window, remarking that it’s Christmas Day and only a night has passed.
Perhaps this is Scrooge’s answer.
Three nights can’t occur in one. Wine can’t ferment in an hour. Similarly, we can’t bend time, nor can we make up for it once it’s lost.
We read of these miracles without rational explanation, but they each point in the same direction. That’s to believe the unbelievable: that it’s not too late to try.
Time can’t be made up for when it’s lost; though, in good spirits, it can be found.
God bless us, everyone!