Today is Groundhog Day. Will tomorrow be the same, or different?

I’ve long been fascinated by movies that take place on a single day or over just a few days. They’re surprisingly rare. Most movies follow a story arc that unfolds over several weeks, months, years, or even decades.

Of the movies about a particular day, perhaps none is more well-known, memorable, or beloved than the 1993 film Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray. In case you’ve never seen it, here be spoilers.

Murray’s character, Phil, is a TV weatherman sent from Pittsburgh to cover the festivities in nearby Punxsutawney with his cameraman, Larry, and producer, Rita. Without any explanation to him or the audience, Phil gets trapped in a seemingly endless repeating loop of February 2, complete with recurring characters and events.

Phil believes that he’s too important to be limited to the viewership of his small-market station, let alone to cover such silliness as Groundhog Day. He makes Larry’s and Rita’s lives miserable as they must put up with his endless barrage of cynicism, complaints, and condescension. All three visitors just want to get this day over with and get back home as quickly as possible.

But an epic blizzard forces them to stay a second night in Punxsutawney. Phil expects to wake up to February 3, only to discover that it’s Groundhog Day again. He must re-live the same day a second time. And a third. And on and on.

For the first few repeats Phil is confused. Then he becomes impatient and annoyed. Soon he’s bored by the empty repetition. He grows despondent, but not even suicide offers an escape. Invariably, at 6 am the next morning he wakes up – alive and whole – to yet another Groundhog Day.

Later on Phil sees an opportunity. He studies Larry and Rita closely so that he can better manipulate them to meet his own selfish needs and desires. But his two coworkers quickly see through these attempts. Rita in particular senses his deceit and resists his romantic overtures.

Eventually Phil embraces Groundhog Day. Now he spends his day learning about Larry and Rita so that he can better meet their needs, not his own. He commits himself to actions of service, sacrifice, and self-improvement whose positive impact extends beyond his two colleagues to the entire town.

Before, Phil was just pretending to be good; now, he really is good. His transformation is complete and convincing enough to win – at long last – Rita’s authentic admiration. That breakthrough breaks the cycle. At long last Phil is finally free.

Like the proverbial chicken and egg, it’s not clear whether Phil’s attitudes or his actions change first. When his motives were selfish, his behaviors seemed false and wrong. But those very same behaviors were redeemed when motivated by his genuine concern for others.

What is clear is that practice made perfect. Phil’s transformation required a focused effort sustained over countless repeats of the day. In the process, his eyes are opened to the true nature of community – and to his own role within it. Amidst the constraints of February 2 in Punxsutawney, he finds a calling that gives his life real purpose and joy.

As a person of faith, I see in this film a parable about how virtue can transform us from the outside-in. It’s a process of spiritual maturation that spans our entire lives.

But this transformation can only happen when we’re rooted in a particular time and place, and to a particular people. And it only feels like we’re trapped in an endless, meaningless cycle until our eyes are opened to our true calling.

At one point in the film, Phil is lamenting his fate with two working-class joes at the local bowling alley. He asks them, ‘What would you do if you were stuck in one place, and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?’ to which one of his two companions replies, ‘That about sums it up for me!’

I’ll be honest: there are days where I feel like Phil and his buddy. I ask myself, ‘is this all there is for me, slinging packages for UPS?’ I have to remind myself that every job – every life – has meaning, but that each of us has to make that meaning for ourselves. Our attitude makes all the difference.