The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
"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."
- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol (1843)
It’s Christmas. Scrooge has been visited by three Ghosts. He has seen the past, the present, and unfortunately, a frightening version of the future. It is said you can’t teach a dog new tricks, but that is incorrect. The old tightwad’s heart, through his experiences with the ghosts, is transformed. The terrifying, silent spirit's greatest gift isn't terror, but revelation. It’s the understanding that our future remains unwritten, that transformation is always possible, and that “mankind” can indeed become our business.
The theologian Walter Brueggemann describes prophetic imagination as having two essential movements - the capacity to criticize and the capacity to energize. Scrooge's transformation illustrates how the capacity to energize can lead to personal and even institutional renewal.
"I am not the man I was," Scrooge declares, echoing what the Apostle Paul would call putting on the "new self" (Ephesians 4:24). This transformation describes the very heart of Christianity – the possibility of radical renewal, regardless of age or circumstance. Just as Christ's redemptive work offers hope to all humanity, Scrooge's transformation suggests that no institution, no system, and no leader is beyond the reach of meaningful change.
The parallel to Christian redemption is plain to see. The Apostle Paul, once a zealous persecutor of the church, became its greatest advocate. Augustine, a man of worldly appetites, transformed into one of Christianity's most influential theologians. These personal transformations ultimately reshaped not just institutions, but whole societies and culture itself. Similarly, Scrooge's change isn't merely personal – it represents the possibility of structural change.
For today's leaders, the message is that change for the better is possible. The structural status quo that exists, like Scrooge's counting house, may be steeped in old patterns of exploitation and inequality. But like Scrooge himself, these systems can be transformed. The economist Joseph Schumpeter spoke of "creative destruction" in markets; perhaps what we need now is actually creative reconstruction – the deliberate reshaping of institutions to help humans to thrive, instead of just surviving.
Scrooge's awakening can also be seen to parallel the concepts of organizational transformation. His revelation is realized through a journey of deep reflection on past choices (Christmas Past), current impact (Christmas Present), and future consequences (Christmas Yet to Come). Management scholar Edgar Schein describes this kind of profound shift as "transformative learning" – where leaders must first experience the anxiety of unlearning before embracing new ways of seeing and acting. When Scrooge awakens on Christmas morning, his transformation exemplifies what Schein calls "cognitive redefinition" – not just adopting new behaviors, but fundamentally reimagining his role in the world and his relationships with others.
The biblical narrative of Zacchaeus, another wealthy man transformed by divine encounter, offers another parallel. Like Scrooge, Zacchaeus moves from accumulation to distribution, from isolation to community. His declaration, "Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor" (Luke 19:8), mirrors Scrooge's joyful generosity. Both stories suggest that economic power, wielded properly, becomes a tool for helping the common good to prosper instead of for personal aggrandizement.
For contemporary leaders, the message is clear: transformation isn't just possible – it's essential. Our institutions face challenges that demand the same kind of radical reorientation Scrooge experienced. Increased crime, addictions, community isolation, technological disruption, and social inequality aren't just technical problems requiring technical solutions. They're structural challenges requiring transformed hearts and minds, much like the spiritual awakening Scrooge experienced.
The philosopher Charles Taylor speaks of "social imaginaries" – the ways societies envision their collective life. Scrooge's transformation illustrates a “social imaginary” for leadership, one that beats conventional assumptions about institutional change. His journey demonstrates that age is no barrier to transformation. Renewal can emerge at any stage of life or institutional development. While crisis is often the catalyst for such transformation – in Scrooge's case, the haunting revelations of the spirits don't lead to diminishment but instead to profound joy and renewed purpose.
Perhaps most significantly, Scrooge's story reveals that economic power need not be sacrificed on the altar of social good. Instead, it can be redirected toward community improvement while maintaining institutional viability. It embodies the biblical wisdom that true prosperity is found in both material and spiritual dimensions.
Modern organizational theorist Peter Senge suggests that real learning isn’t just about taking in new information but becoming a new person. Scrooge's declaration that he will "live in the Past, the Present, and the Future" suggests he is a leader who has learned to master reflection, action, and vision – the essential elements of transformative leadership.
The possibility of change – real, deep, joyful change – stands at the heart of both the Christian faith and societal renewal. Just as Jesus told Nicodemus that new birth was possible even for an old man, Dickens shows us that new patterns of leadership and community life are possible even in seemingly entrenched, calcified systems.
The future isn't fixed. The patterns of the past need not determine the shape of things to come. Like Scrooge, we can choose to become "as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man" as our troubled world so desperately needs.
The time for transformation is now. The question isn't whether change is possible – Scrooge's story settles that. The question is whether we, like him, will have the courage to accept the revelation when it comes and to act upon it with joy and determination.
Our future, like Scrooge's, remains unwritten. And that is cause for hope.