Every so often, I get questioning looks directed at the cross hanging from my neck. Sometimes, people are curious to know what that wooden symbol means.
When I saw houses that were falling apart and children walking around with tattered clothing, my heart sank. I’d seen pictures of third-world countries and had heard stories of the less fortunate, but my eyes were opened when I stepped into this life for a week.
Bigoted. Patriarchal. Sexist.
We’ve all heard the way some people talk about the Catholic Church — in our schools, at work, in the mainstream media or on the Internet. They say it’s an ancient institution, stuck in the past, left behind by modern progress in women’s rights.
On Sunday, Jan. 29, just as I was getting ready to leave church after an evening Mass, a gunman opened fire on a mosque in Quebec City, killing six people and injuring many more shortly after the end of their evening prayers.
In general, I’m a pretty hopeful person about the future of the Church, even more so with the announcement of the theme for next year’s Synod of Bishops.
Happy New Year! Growing up in Canada, I had a largely typical North American childhood experience, but it was also infused with the traditions of my Chinese heritage.