Christmas, we are told, is a time for family. And even where the religious significance of Christmas has been forgotten or reduced to something marginal, it remains the central family feast of the year: a time not only to give gifts, but for families to come together, to reconcile differences, t
Last week, facing the hard news of another pandemic wave, fuelled by yet another new variant, our Archbishop Christian Lepine published a pastoral letter entitled “The Door of the Manger is Always Open”. He speaks to us
Today, we acclaim Jesus as our King. But just what kind of King is Jesus, anyway? Was Jesus born in a palace – or a stable? Did Jesus grow up in a big city, as part of a rich and powerful family? Or as the son of a humble carpenter, in an obscure village in the back of beyond?
Over the past weeks, we have all been shocked, saddened, and ashamed by the revelations of the discovery of the unmarked graves of the first 215 children at the Kamloops Residential School, and now, over 750 at a similar school in Saskatchewan. If the untimely or unnecessary death of even one ch
As we gather this weekend to celebrate Corpus Christi, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, we will be highlighting our solidarity in the broken body of Christ with our First Nations’ brothers and sisters. This week, we are learning what they have known or suspected for many years, about the terrible abuses suffered not only in Kamloops but in residential schools all across the country, 70% of which were operated by dioceses or by religious orders of the Roman Catholic Church. One in the Body of Christ, we share their grief, their pain, their anger, their loss.
In his powerful little book entitled 'Let Us Dream', Pope Francis lays out the challenge we face as we begin to emerge from the pandemic:
'We need a movement of people who listen to each other, who know they need each other, who have a sense of responsibility for one another and for the world we share. We CAN come out of this crisis better. But we have to see clearly, choose wisely, and act rightly. Let us talk this over. Let us dare to dream.'
On this fifth Sunday of Easter, we are presented with this beautiful image of the vine and the branches, from the 15th chapter of St. John’s Gospel. Reading it over several times, I was struck especially by the word “abide”, which appears eight times in these eight verses, and the phrase “bear fruit”, which recurs four times. What might these phrases/thoughts mean to us, here and now? Where and how are we being called to “abide”, to connect, to find our home? And what is the fruit that we are being called to bear – as individuals, as parish communities, as global community?
On this fifth Sunday of Easter, we are presented with this beautiful image of the vine and the branches, from the 15th chapter of St. John’s Gospel. Reading it over several times, I was struck especially by the word “abide”, which appears eight times in these eight verses, and the phrase “bear fruit”, which recurs four times. What might these phrases/thoughts mean to us, here and now? Where and how are we being called to “abide”, to connect, to find our home? And what is the fruit that we are being called to bear – as individuals, as parish communities, as global community?
On this octave of Easter, the Gospel reveals to us a saving encounter. Peter and John have seen the empty tomb. Mary Magdalene has seen the Lord, and runs to tell the good news to the other disciples. You would think they would be out celebrating. But they are not. Afraid of the same authorities who had put their Lord and Teacher to death, they are in lockdown: hiding behind locked doors, afraid to let anyone in.
Have you ever had an experience in your life so wonderful, you didn’t want it to ever end? Often, they are very short-lived experiences – a beautiful sunset, the feeling of connection with a friend, the ecstasy of falling in love, an exceptionally fine glass of wine, a beautiful dream from which