Published January 9, 2025
A new year is a time of optimism and hope, a time for a fresh start. For many people, the beginning of a new year is a time for making resolutions. Usually, these are resolutions of self-improvement, even self-denial. We resolve to eat better, exercise more, shed a few pounds, spend more time with family, finally clear out the inbox, travel more, and the like.
These resolutions, of course, invariably stem from an awareness that something about how we have been living is not quite right. The hope in making New Year’s resolutions is that something in one’s life – something lacking or in excess, something out of place or out of order – might be corrected or at least improved.
No one makes a New Year’s resolution to change nothing in the hope that things will thereby improve. Everyone who hopes to improve himself in some way knows that hope and complacency, if not exactly opposites, are incompatible.
If our goal, the object of our hope, is unrealistic, we are setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment. Our hope, if it is to remain true hope, needs to be well founded. If I, a 40-something Dad, want to establish a regular exercise routine and lose a few pounds and get in shape, that’s reasonable. If I go to the gym with the hope of winning a starting job as power forward for the Chicago Bulls, that’s nutty. Sound judgment often delineates the difference between genuine hope and foolish optimism.
At the same time, if I, a 40-something Dad, hope to establish a regular exercise routine, lose a few pounds, and get in shape but never do more than write about it, it is unreasonable for me to think that the goal will be accomplished. And here is the second point: In addition to sound judgment about the object of my hope for self-improvement, the attainment of the thing hoped for requires some action on my part.
There is an obvious parallel to the spiritual and moral life.
Faith is the virtue by which we believe in God and in all he has revealed to us through His Church. Christian hope arises from this knowledge that Christ has redeemed us by His death and resurrection. “Hope,” as the Catechism tells us, “is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness.” The attainment of this object by our own means, however, is not a reasonable thing for which to hope. It is only by the help of grace and the Holy Spirit that the promises of Christ are attainable.
Happily for us, God does not wait until we are worthy to offer us the surety of hope. “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us,” writes St. Paul. God acts first; we respond.
“We love God because he first loved us,” as we read in the first epistle of John. The knowledge of God’s unmerited love for us and the limitless bounty of His mercy opens for us the possibility of returning that love.
Unless we know we are sinners, we cannot grasp what God has done for us. It is by faith that we know God’s offer of mercy which is our hope. And it is God’s victory over sin and death that makes that hope reasonable.
As with our New Year’s resolutions, it is necessary but not sufficient to know that I need to change something in my life. If I know that I must change, it is necessary but not sufficient that I have a reasonable hope for what I desire to attain. And if I have knowledge of what must change and reasonable hope for what change might be accomplished, I still do not have all that I need for the fulfillment of my hope. I must act.
Knowing that God loves me and hoping sincerely for what He promises me are not the same as loving God in return. Knowing that I cannot become the person I ought to be without God’s help is not the same as presuming that God, in His mercy, will accomplish it for me. Again, we read in the first letter of John:
If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from him: “Whoever loves God must also love his brother.”
God does not give commandments he knows we cannot keep. Nor does he love us, pursue us, suffer for us, and forgive us so that we might remain as we are. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” All my good intentions are of just as much use to me in growing in love of God and neighbor as they are in helping me keep my new year’s resolutions. Which is to say, not much.
This year the Church celebrates a Jubilee. The theme for the Jubilee is “Pilgrims of Hope.” It is a chance for each of us, and for all of us, to make a fresh start. Like any other pilgrimage, the journey is made up of many small steps. Good intentions will not get us where we need to go. Simply knowing the destination won’t get us there, either.
We cannot make the journey in a single leap. We must take the steps, beginning with the first. We need help and encouragement and (sometimes) correction. We need proper nourishment. Proper rest. With each step – slowly, perhaps imperceptibly, at first – we will grow stronger. The way will become easier. Or maybe we just grow lighter as we leave behind bits of us we no longer need.
Anyway, that’s my resolution and hope.
Stephen P. White is a fellow in the Catholic Studies Program at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. Mr. White’s work focuses on the application of Catholic social teaching to a broad spectrum of contemporary political and cultural issues. He is the author of Red, White, Blue, and Catholic (Liguori Publications, 2016).
