As the new year comes upon us, our thoughts often wander toward self-improvement and new year’s resolutions. Should we lose that 5, 10, 15 pounds that we may have gained over the year (or over Christmas!)? Should we make more money? Should we hit the gym more frequently and regularly? When making resolutions in the new year, or at any time, it’s good to think about that which is truly good and truly lasting.
Especially when we’re younger adults (but certainly not exclusively) we tend toward self-glorification through displays of wealth, strength and physical beauty. In my admittedly anecdotal experience, it seems that men often tend to breach the often fine line between self-assurance/self-confidence to be annoyingly arrogant (a key, guys, is how much you prattle on about yourself). After all, it was a guy who wrote/sang the country song: “Oh, Lord, it’s hard to be humble, when you’re perfect in ev-er-y waayyy” … or, as Lord Goring (Rupert Everett) quips to his butler in “An Ideal Husband” as he admires himself in the mirror: “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.” Women, however, seem to be more self-critical (sometimes too much so, especially mothers; even the best of mothers can at times sob: “I’m a terrible mother!”), and often more ardent at self-improvement.
As we get older, many of the things that we thought were so important in our youth tend to fall away, and we think more of the legacy that we’ll be leaving behind. What will be said of me when I’m in the coffin in the church, or when family and friends gather years later? What mark will I have made in the world?
But the planting of the seeds of lasting pleasant remembrance of ourselves is not with how much money we may have made or how “hot” we looked, but how we have been to other people—toward family and friends, and even toward acquaintances and those we don’t even know. Were we generous, kind and courteous when we didn’t have to be? Were we gracious in both victory and defeat, in both joys and disappointed hopes?
The only true value comes from what we have sacrificed and given of ourselves and not from selfish gain, and certainly not from vengefulness and snarkiness. That value comes about through graciousness and charitable interaction with all. As the saying goes, it is more blessed to give than to receive, and as St. Paul reminds us: “God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Corinthians 9:7), and “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35)
This is not just a Christian principle, but rather is ubiquitous across time and cultures. Christians know, and even many non-Christians will admit, that the great attraction of Jesus was not due to that which He gained FOR himself, but rather from that how He gave OF himself. He spent his last few years on earth roaming the Palestinian countryside with His disciples, taking His message (Gospel) of God’s love to all, urging those who heard him to reflect love and kindness to those around them. In fact, the most cherished memory of Jesus is when He gave His very life upon the cross for Truth and love of Mankind, and (Christians believe) for the eternal life of His followers. What more can a person give? As Jesus had Himself stated: “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)
What IS love? Is it not the giving of self to another? Is love not the most cherished of all things? Even Elon, Bill, Jeff and the billionaire gang of all the world seek love most of all, and yet many with money are blinded as to how to cultivate it, believing that wealth and pride are the pinnacle of success and joy. Many who are unscrupulous in their gain would do well to remember: “Better is a poor man who walks in his integrity than a rich man who is crooked in his ways,” (Proverbs 28:6), for “He who loves money will not be satisfied with money…When goods increase, they increase who eat them, and what advantage has their owner but to see them with his eyes?” (Ecclesiastes 5:11-12)
So, as we begin this new year, let us remember what is perhaps the greatest resolution we can make—that which covers every circumstance and state in life: “[I] came not to be served, but to serve…” (Matthew 20:28). If we approach every day and moment with that attitude and philosophy, considering how to advance the good of the other and of the world, how can we possibly go wrong? What greater gift to others—and to ourselves—can we make?
“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, and patience, forbearing one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other…” (Colossians 3:12-13)
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Postscript: A final note on the passing of Pope Benedict XVI. Such things are always bittersweet—the loss of a good friend, mentor or a beloved figure pains us, yet a (natural) death is nonetheless the portal to eternity and, for the faithful Christian, our call to the embrace of our loving God. How often does Christ promise this, and yet we fear our final passing? Remember always, O Christian soul, the assurance of Our Lord when eternity looms: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28-29) In those final moments, we cry out like Moses: “I pray thee, show me thy glory.” (Exodus 33:18) And He will reply: “Come, and see.” (John 1:39)
Editor’s note: RevRev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.



































