An alumna of our Newman House chaplaincy at Queen’s University offers an inspiring model of reading — of actual books. 

Too much intrusion

Re: Lay chaplains (Letter to the Editor, Dec. 2):

There are two aspects of Mr. Klaassen’s letter which deserve comment. The first is his suggestion for lay chaplains is in direct contradiction of the Code of Canon Law c.564: “A chaplain is a priest to whom is entrusted in a stable manner the pastoral care . . .

The second addresses his statement: “But the military chaplaincy ought to be civilian.” Submitting to this contradiction to the Church’s authority would be a weakening of the Church’s authority. There is far too much of that intrusion into and against the Church already, isn’t there?

David A. Hogg

Scarborough, Ont.

Dwelling is a strange concept. It’s a place and it sounds like an action: the relevance to Advent is both. 

Thomas Merton, the most influential Catholic spiritual writer of the 20th century, spent the last period of his life trying to find points of common ground between Catholic mysticism and the mysticism of the East. Some might argue that Merton’s efforts were folly, but one cannot deny his influence.

As Parliament awaits the imminent arrival of a report on assisted suicide that may make a bad situation even worse, it’s worth noting some chilling stories from the first countries to legalize medically induced death. This could be our future.

Last summer, Ottawa constitutional lawyer Albertos Polizogopoulos and I were on Ottawa’s Sparks Street when we encountered a sign warning we were entering an abortion safe-access zone.

I love making lists. It is how I fall asleep at night. Sometimes I try to name every baseball club and at least one player from each team, or think of 10 music albums I would bring with me should I ever be sent to an offshore penal colony or to the opera.

I have become used to the cacophony which inhabits the downtown of the city and usually treat it as background noise as I walk around. 

The other day, I went to pay my respects to the widow and two children of a friend and neighbor whom I played pick-up hockey with for several years. He was only 55.

As a photographer, I always assumed my interests were odd. My preferred subjects were dilapidated buildings, rusted metals and abandoned spaces. I love detailed closeups of ghost phrases — slogans and ads painted on crumbling surfaces that are still just visible to the eye, decades after the products were available. Driving through the countryside I will often pull over to photograph a collapsed shed, a rusted sign or a crumbling wall.