This new year my resolution was to be less punctual. Why? Because punctuality has always been both my obsession and my curse.
Room for all
Re: New Mass at 50: a face-to-face issue (Dec. 22):
I find much beauty in the Latin Mass. I grew up with it. But I also find beauty in the Novus Ordo in its simplicity and its native tongue, or mix of Latin and English.
It seemed fitting that Pope Francis began the new year by pointing a spotlight at women, given that integrating women into the everyday running of the Church will be a major theme of the new decade.
I am writing this column late in December, thinking of the annual ritual of making resolutions. I do not think in my life I ever followed through on a New Year’s resolution — but I have made resolutions at other times of the year that I have stuck to like glue.
Earlier this month, I was reading about the fathers of three modern Irish literary geniuses — Oscar Wilde, W.B. Yeats and James Joyce — when I came upon a fascinating fact about Wilde’s mother.
I have been thinking a lot over the last couple of years about how God comes to us. In tragedy and grief, in deep joy and hope, in confusion and in waiting. In all these places, I am deeply convinced that He comes. Still, I often struggle to recognize Him.
When told this issue of The Register would be dedicated to not only a year in review, but a decade in review, the idea immediately intrigued me.
From a Catholic perspective, few if any dates were more significant during the soon-to-close decade than Feb.11, 2013.
Entirely? Not really
Re: Dialogue continues on path of co-operation (Dec. 1):
The article states: “By 1763 King Louis XV had no choice but to cede France’s North American possessions entirely to England’s King George III.”
Greta Thunberg has been named by Time magazine as its person of the year because of the global attitudinal shift towards climate change the magazine says she has created.
I’m sitting in the shadow of a Christmas tree weighed down with lights and finery, while a stuffed teddy bear with a beguiling smile sits patiently at the base watching me through button eyes. It could be one of countless Christmas trees anywhere in the world, but this one holds special meaning for myself and the young lady sitting next to me.