Hope is the poor relation of faith and charity, its fellow theological virtues, and the Pope's encyclical  Spe Salvi focuses our attention on it once more, emphasising how life-changing it can be. A Dominican theologian here points also to wider implications for the Church

At the Vatican press conference introducing the new papal encyclical Spe Salvi last Friday, both presenters - Cardinals Albert Vanhoye and Georges Cottier - noted the timeliness of the document's publication on the eve of Advent, the season of hope.

There is wide agreement among those involved with church ministry (myself included) that hope is probably the most neglected virtue in Christian spiritual life. We glibly cite St Paul's "faith, hope, and love", but generally the middle member of this trinity receives too little attention in relation to the other two; too many devout Christians seriously intent on "living the truth in love" appear sadly to be living in quiet desperation. Pope Benedict's new encyclical promises - hopefully - to help restore hope to its rightful place at the centre of Christian life.

Most of the media coverage of Spe Salvi has emphasised its criticisms of modern philosophical and social movements, particularly Marxism and other forms of atheism. While certainly important, these criticisms are by no means the encyclical's primary theme. What appears most noteworthy about them is their benevolent and respectful tone. Marx and Engels are credited with having described "alarmingly" and "with great precision ... the situation of [their] time", i.e. "the dreadful living conditions" of the industrial proletariat (n. 20). Modern atheism more generally is acknowledged to be motivated by "a type of moralism: a protest against the injustices of the world and of world history" by people who find themselves unable to accept such a world as "the work of a good God" (n. 42).

Benedict's critical comments on the ramifications of such thinking are incisive, to be sure, but not at all harshly polemical. References to the "appalling destruction" wrought by Soviet Communism (n. 21), and to "the greatest forms of cruelty and violations of justice" predictably resulting from atheistic ideology in practice (n. 42), come across not as condemnatory moralism but as a reflection on the tragic irony of sincere revolutionaries led astray by illusory hopes and consequently bringing about conditions more oppressive than those they had overthrown.

Those hopes are illusory because they both rest on an unreliable foundation (human effort devoid of God) and they are directed to an unrealisable goal (earthly paradise). Countering these two basic errors, Pope Benedict offers bracing reminders: a: defectible human freedom can never guarantee permanent happiness (n. 21); b: even the noblest human efforts cannot eliminate all suffering from earthly life (n. 36). Ultimately the misplaced hopes inherent in atheistic ideologies, as revealed in so much of modern history, serve as a foil to illustrate more clearly the true hope revealed in the Christian Gospel. Christian hope is based on the unshakeable foundation of God's all-powerful redemptive love conveyed to us in Jesus Christ, and directed to the ultimate goal of eternal life in God, realisable by the grace of that all-powerful divine love.

All this is just the beginning. While the preceding reflections are invaluably "informative" as to the true foundation and goal of Christian hope, what is ultimately of decisive importance is the "performative" dynamic of this hope, a "life-changing and life-sustaining" dynamic that "shapes our life in a new way" (n. 10). If it is appropriate for us Christians to criticise "deceptive" notions of hope characteristic of secular modernity, it is also incumbent on us to address the impoverished dynamic of hope too often evident in modern Christianity. The Pope identifies this impoverishment in a common tendency among Christians to focus too narrowly on "the individual and his [eternal] salvation" with inadequate concern for the condition of the human community in the present world. "In so doing, [modern Christianity] has limited the horizon of its hope and has failed to recognise the greatness of its task" (n. 25).

Pope Benedict's own hope envisions a frank and respectful dialogue in which both Christians and secular moderns are invited to be fearlessly self-critical (n. 22). Repeatedly throughout the encyclical he emphasises the social and this-worldly concerns of Christian hope, illustrated with biographical examples ranging from Church Fathers and Doctors to heroic Christians from Africa and Asia in recent centuries. True Christian hope energises believers for arduous, unselfish, even sacrificial commitment to the betterment of the human family for the glory of God in Christ.

Here I venture that the summons to Christian self-criticism in regard to hope could be extended to include further issues beyond those raised in Spe Salvi. The unbalanced individualism and otherworldliness of much recent Christianity is seen by Benedict as a response to modern historical influences traceable to the Enlightenment (and Francis Bacon in particular). Unmentioned here is the fact that by the time Bacon and later Enlightenment philosophers gained prominence, significant numbers of people had already ceased to regard the Christian Church as a creditable bearer of hope. In other words, the obscuring of authentic Christian hope did not simply originate with the Enlightenment movement; to some extent at least, it also preceded and enabled that movement. How did that earlier loss of confidence in the Church come about?

Of course the same question arises regarding the Church today. The teaching of Spe Salvi conveys the clear imperative for Christians to be, in the way they conduct their lives, effective ministers of hope to one another (and others). But it is likewise imperative for the Church as a whole, collectively, and particularly in its institutional operations, to be an effective minister of hope to its individual members and also the wider human community. If, as previously mentioned, many have felt driven to atheism by the scandal of pervasive injustice in the world, should we not also recognise that many Catholics feel alienated because their experience of ecclesiastical life does not allow them to relate to the Church as an agent of hope for them? And are there not analogous difficulties in the way many outsiders perceive the Church? As it was put some years ago by one Canadian ecclesiastic who has served in church ministry at several levels, those who do not recognise the Church as a source of hope will instead perceive it as a burden - one more burden they do not need in their already overburdened lives.

The well-known and numerous mea culpa pronouncements of the late Pope John Paul II constitute an important beginning in facing these painful and potentially threatening questions. I mention them here with no intent to criticise Pope Benedict for not having pursued them in Spe Salvi - his text contains more than enough food for thought as it is - but in the hope that the implications of what he does offer here will stimulate further exploration of these questions in due course.

Meanwhile, there is much in Spe Salvi for which to be grateful. Over and above what has already been discussed here, the encyclical also offers a wealth of teaching on the more individual, personal aspects of hope. The opening paragraphs, commenting on various Pauline texts from Scripture, emphasise that Christian hope is rooted in the already real (albeit germinal) presence of eternal life in every single believer graced with faith. Later on, true to his Augustinian theological orientation, Benedict casts brilliant light on the traditional association of prayer with hope. Especially powerful is his discussion of how prayer functions to enlarge our desires and also to purify them. Then follows an extended meditation on hope as the source of energy for wholesome action and also of patient courage in suffering; here the Pope's reflections range from the heroic witness of a nineteenth-century Vietnamese martyr to the everyday annoyances which we must all endure and which we can profitably "offer up" (nn. 35-40).

Finally, in the last major section, we are presented with a discourse on the Final Judgement as hopeful assurance of the ultimate vindication of all justice (nn. 41-48). Included here is an instructive and appealing explanation of Catholic teaching concerning hell, heaven and purgatory, along with a likewise appealing instruction on how prayer for the dead is encompassed within Christian hope. This section serves to tie together the individual and communal concerns of hope. Last of all (nn. 49-50), the encyclical speaks of the Virgin Mary and addresses her under the ancient title of "Star of the Sea", as she is pre-eminent among the saints who convey hope to us by reflecting the light of her son, Jesus Christ.

In sum, Pope Benedict has gifted us with an encyclical that is edifying as well as challenging in its content, cordial in its tone, and eminently readable in its style. Both for the central importance of its subject and for the elegant manner of its presentation, Spe Salvi deserves to be read widely and pondered seriously. In undertaking to promote a revivified hope among the Christian faithful, the Pope's encyclical is itself a welcome minister of hope.