Magnanimity. It’s a word we don’t hear too often anymore, yet it is something we so need right now. The saints are saints because of it. You won’t find a historical hero without it.

Officially, to be magnanimous means to be “great of mind; elevated in soul or in sentiment; raised above what is low, mean, or ungenerous; of lofty and courageous spirit.”

These are days with many detours. Many old familiar pathways and shortcuts we’ve frequented have non-negotiable roadblocks. We’ve been told to find a way around it all in short order. Schoolkids are facing fairly rigorous “new normal” routines involving social distancing and face masks. Homeschooled children, likewise, will not be able to rely on their usual social outlets. We’ll all be working with less (help, money, resources) but still be expected to somehow keep our heads above water.

This is where magnanimity comes in. There have always been moments in history where people get the opportunity to choose the high road or the low road. In times of crisis and trial, the high road looks like courage, innovation, and generosity, while in stark contrast the low road is rife with bitterness, sarcasm, complaining, and entitlement.

“Magnanimity means greatness of spirit, a largeness of heart wherein many can find refuge,” the Spanish saint Josemaria Escriva writes. “Magnanimity gives us the energy to break out of ourselves and be prepared to undertake generous tasks which will be of benefit to all.”

It goes without saying that most of us want to belong to the magnanimity camp. We all want to be a refuge, a place where people come to be refreshed and leave feeling hopeful. Yet a brief sojourn on any given social media platform would suggest that a staggering number of us are defaulting to something other than magnanimity. And in so doing, we are causing many other “little ones to stumble.”

Our children are watching. They are watching our faces for our reactions to these unprecedented moments in our lives. It is important to distinguish that what to us is total and utter social devastation (social distancing, cancelled vacations and activities) is to them just something happening to them today. We give them the tools and the language to confront what happens to them by how we react to our own dashed plans.

Are we acting nobly and magnanimously when told we will have to wear a mask for our niece’s baptism? That all the waterslides are closed at our campground? Or are we sarcastic and bitter?

Are we lambasting school boards’ attempts to get the kids back to school safely by ridiculing the decision-makers? Or are we verbalizing how difficult it must be to craft the protocols?

It’s said that trying to eliminate a bad habit (complaining, bitterness) is more difficult than introducing a new habit to push the old ones out. So in that spirit of innovation that befits the magnanimous, try:

  • Finding an activity you can learn with someone you love;
  • Buying some winter sports equipment to avoid cabin fever;
  • Scheduling some walks with friends where you can have a safe place to share your feelings with a real person;
  • Creating safe havens and supports wherever you can.

We cannot rely on the way we’ve always done things, and maybe you’re sick of hearing about this new normal. But here we are. We might not agree with all the mainstream opinions. In fact some conspiracy theories sound less theoretical and more newsworthy than some of the daily fare we consume via mainstream media. But that is irrelevant to us in this moment and has precisely zero bearing on how we live out this time we’ve been given.

This is not encouragement to stick your head in the sand. Rather, consider that these moments we are living are precious opportunities for breeding hope in dark, discouraged times.

There is significantly less joy to be found and people are on edge. Show the world the reason for the hope you have. If there has ever been a time for North America to need real Christians (magnanimous people), it’s now.