In October 1969, members of the Weathermen—an aggressive branch of the leftist Students for a Democratic Society (SDS)—planned several days of demonstrations and rioting in Chicago in opposition to the Vietnam War. The “Days of Rage” led to violent clashes with police and hundreds of arrests. Afterwards, the Weathermen issued a statement in New Left Notes, SDS’ periodical: “We did what we set out to do, and in the process turned a corner. FROM HERE ON IN IT’S ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER.”

To the Weathermen (later renamed the Weather Underground), it was a declaration of war, a relentless campaign that would end in the overthrow of the American government. But it also carries a more pessimistic interpretation: a declaration of on-going struggle with no promise of victory.

That declaration inspired the title of Paul Thomas Anderson’s film “One Battle After Another,” which won Best Picture at the 98th Academy Awards last night. The film is a loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon’s novel Vineland, about aging ’60s radicals in Reagan’s ’80s. Anderson brings the story into the present, with an America that looks distressingly like our own: In the breathless opening sequence, the revolutionary group the French 75 raids and liberates an immigrant detention center.

But I think to call the film a “rallying cry” for our present political moment, as some critics have, misses the point. Anderson’s film is more interested in questions than statements. The most important being: How do you keep working for justice and liberation when it seems like nothing ever changes? When it’s “one battle after another,” how do you keep the faith?

After that propulsive opening, the members of the French 75 fall victim to internal betrayal and government brutality. The film then jumps ahead in time, on a particularly deflating note: “Sixteen years later, the world had changed very little.” Former revolutionary and demolitions expert Ghetto Pat (Leonardo DiCaprio) now lives under the assumed name of Bob Ferguson in a small California sanctuary city with his daughter, Willa (Chase Infiniti). Willa is headstrong and wants to make a difference, but Bob is still licking his wounds. He spends his days drunk, high and rewatching “The Battle of Algiers” in lieu of real acts of resistance, much to Willa’s frustration. 

But an enemy from the past is on their trail: Colonel Steven J. Lockjaw (Sean Penn). Lockjaw once had a secret sexual relationship with Willa’s mother, disgraced revolutionary Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor). Believing that Willa is his daughter—a biracial daughter whose existence would prevent his acceptance into an elite white supremicist organization—Lockjaw sends his forces after her. Willa goes on the run and Bob follows. 

There is a lot to love about “One Battle After Another.”It has a powerhouse cast, thrilling action and Anderson’s usual blend of dramatic emotion and off-kilter humor. But what made it one of my favorite movies of last year—and the element that I believe will resonate the most with Catholic viewers—is its meditation on how you keep fighting the good fight even when it seems hopeless. 

Catholic peace and justice work differs significantly from the French 75’s militant approach, but the frustrations are the same. I learned this early in my own commitment to a faith that does justice, which began in college (a Jesuit school, of course: Loyola University of Maryland) and the naive certainty that, with enough prayer and effort, we could eradicate homelessness in Baltimore before I graduated. Instead, I learned the lesson that every young activist does: The road is long, longer than you can believe, and youthful zeal isn’t enough to keep you going. Changing the world isn’t glamorous, it’s hard work; it requires humility, and a high tolerance for being humiliated. You have to be prepared to lose and lose and lose, in the hopes of someday scoring a win.

How do you bear all of that loss? How do you keep the fire burning? I have learned to look for reasons to hope, at people whose work inspires me to keep going. There are many of them, though they rarely make the front page: friends in the Catholic Worker and the Jesuit Refugee Service, friends who provide legal assistance for migrants and advocate tirelessly on Capitol Hill for the rights of their marginalized neighbors. Here in Philadelphia, members of the New Sanctuary Movement have held a weekly prayer vigil outside of ICE offices since late January, which is nothing less than the Gospel in action.

As Bob and Willa travel their separate roads in “One Battle After Another,” they also encounter signs of hope: others who are actively committed to a better world. While some are militant revolutionaries like the French 75, Anderson is careful to show us diverse strategies and expressions of resistance. We see demonstrators taking to the streets to protest an immigration enforcement crackdown. We meet Sergio St. Carlos (Benicio del Toro), Bob’s friend and Willa’s karate sensei, who runs a “Latino Harriet Tubman situation,” sheltering migrants in danger of detention and deportation. In one of the film’s most affecting scenes, he comforts a group of terrified migrants in unsubtitled Spanish, displaying calm confidence even in the face of terror. There is even a group of radical nuns who give Willa shelter, the Sisters of the Brave Beaver (although, considering that they are based on the “weed nuns” of Merced, Calif. you can assume they aren’t affiliated with the Catholic Church).

But the film finds its greatest source of hope in the passing of the torch from one generation of revolutionaries to the next. This also requires great humility, because it means accepting our limitations and that we are not the heroes of the story. As I reflect on this film, I keep thinking of Bishop Ken Untener’s prayer “Prophets of a Future Not Our Own” (often misattributed to St. Óscar Romero), which reminds us that “the Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts; it is even beyond our vision.” We are not the ones who will bring about the ultimate reign of peace and justice: “We are workers, not master builders,” the prayer says, “ministers, not messiahs.” We play our small part in the story, and then someone else picks up where we left off. 

This is, at heart, the entire Christian story. Jesus never promised us earthly success. Quite the opposite: If we practice our faith, we can expect rejection, mockery and death. I take some paradoxical comfort in that. If you stand with the poor and marginalized against the forces of greed, power and violence, you can expect to lose one battle after another. But we believe that we are contributing, even in miniscule ways, to the ultimate victory. We believe that God is on the side of justice, and God has the last word.

When Anderson accepted his Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay last night, he described the film as both an apology to his children for the state of the world and encouragement for them to keep working to make it better. I think we could all use that encouragement, as the state of the world grows darker everyday and the forces of greed, power and violence become ever further entrenched. The ultimate victory lies ahead of us, always just beyond the horizon. But with every good work, with every new generation that takes up the banner of peace and justice, we get a little closer. The road is long, but there is light at the end of it. Don’t give up.

“One Battle After Another” is now streaming on HBO Max.

John Dougherty is the director of mission and ministry at St. Joseph’s Preparatory School in Philadelphia, Pa.