The only thing better than a second chance is a third or fourth chance! New, unpacked opportunities pave the way for dozens of tight, pink buds on an ancient tree called hope, called second chances. That’s what the new year offers. I’m beginning my 73rd “second chance” by starting fresh in the year of our Lord 2024. I say yes and amen to this opportunity. New years indeed represent second chances.

Gentiles may not be aware that Judaism has two new year celebrations or feasts in their cycle of annual holy days—Passover in the tender, green beauty of springtime and Rosh Hashanah in the burnished gold and scarlet of autumn.

These two new beginning of days through festivals demonstrate annually that Judaism acknowledges that sometimes our conundrum of human life requires a pause and an elevation for our future days to become something higher and brighter than mundane existence.

The history of Rosh Hashanah is post-biblical. Passover comes in the Jewish month of Nisan (March or April on the civil calendar), which marks the first new year feast in the cycle of twelve months. Tishri begins the next new year of the High Holy Days corresponding to the civil months of September and October. Meaning is gained from perpetuating and conjoining these two disparate systems of counting time.

Two new years remind us of an argument between two rabbis, Eliezer and Yehoshua. Both agreed that two new years were accepted, but they couldn’t agree on which was first or second. Amazingly, Judaism embraced both feasts as new years. The high holy days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur would not overshadow the established celebration of Passover and vice-versa. Together both reveal our vulnerable human needs. At Passover in springtime, we come together with family and friends to commemorate the saving of the Jewish people through the story of the deliverance of Israel and the Exodus from Egypt into the Promised Land. Yom Kippur or Day of Atonement is a sobering time of fasting and reflection when sins are confessed and rectitude made, enabling a fresh start to the new year. In Rosh HaShanah we remember the miracle of creation and the giving of the Torah—two important tools that help us prepare for another journey around the sun. These are both beautiful new year’s celebrations that display how desperately we need to belong, to join our lives to something greater and more lasting than ourselves, to find eternal meaning beyond self.

The Gregorian calendar celebrations of the new year in most gentile nations are similar in that they turn over a year fraught with a fresh beginning and offer a time to make resolutions and excel and exceed the mishaps or mistakes of last year.

When considering my new year of 2024, I also love the feeling of freshly poured cement or clay that can be moulded into something new. What is missing for me in Jewish and gentile celebrations of the new year is the idea of focusing on mission or making clear a vision for my life’s calling. It not enough to begin again but couple with that the hope of renewed vision for my purpose in earth.

One does not have to be called into the clergy to own a vision for purpose in life. On the first day of 2024, Wayne and I are remembering and underscoring the reasons we came together in marriage and mission for which we live each day. As we take note, it becomes clear that most of it is not lofty. It’s about being healthy and aware of self care, enjoying family and being a good and responsible parent, spouse, employer or employee. It’s about shining in darkness the light of truth. It’s about preaching the Good News without words at first—sampling God’s love on earth. It’s about being and less about doing.

Last year tested our faith with two serious cancer scares. Honestly, I thought about entering 2024 with hope of an easy year without the pressure of trials. The more I imagined the more entitled I grew. In reality, my only thought for the new year was a year without suffering—I’ve earned it. Then these provocative words rebounded in my spirit.

 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

“Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you:  But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy” (I Peter 4:12-13).

My first response to troubles that force me out of comfort is , “This is strange.” Yet these scriptures set the record straight. This is not strange rather par for the course.

Trials often occlude my vision and mission for tomorrow. The fear of them or the presence of them cause grief. Jesus’s words always center me up and keep my path straight, so I can fulfill my mission.

In the broader sense, we are called to love the Jewish people and show the church why Israel is important historically, presently, and prophetically. Sometimes international travel is essential. Often though, the work of this vision involves sharing with the person in my pathway daily. I love vision that can be reduced to simply reaching the person next to you that needs light.

The memory of some previous year feels heavy, but the hope of tomorrow feels light. I’ll take all the new years inscribed on the calendar—Jewish or gentile. I’ll take the new start of the year or of each day where I routinely find new mercies. Yes, I’m hooked in second chances. It’s a good thing they keep coming!