Speaking Out

I had a keen awareness of death as a kid. I know it sounds strange and morbid and probably like a terrible way to begin a column, but it’s true. I was very scared of dying. So much so that I would lie awake at night, still as a stone, sweating through my cowboy-themed sheets thinking about it.

Saying grace before meals is a universal practice. Perhaps because of this, I was amused by the following quote from G.K. Chesterton: “You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”

As I waited for the bus at the GO station, I regretted not wearing a thicker sweater. The bus soon approached, and I was excited for two reasons: to stop shivering and to be closer to an eventful weekend.

In our society, it is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the Catholic identity, even in Catholic schools where some people believe external forces are gradually eroding the Catholicity of the school system.

Faith can be explored through prayer, through social activities and through art. And so writing for a religious publication, such as The Catholic Register, has been a step in my journey of faith in a number of ways.

Mary and I have always had an awkward relationship. Let me make this clear: I’m the awkward one. She has always been the tender, grace-filled, Immaculate Mother of God. But something in me has always resisted intimacy with Mary. It must be the judgmental Protestant I imagine lurking behind my shoulder with eyebrows raised saying, “Are you worshipping Mary?”

Sometimes I think everything in life is wonderful: nature, places, people. Then I hear stories of destruction, whether it be physical, emotional or spiritual, and I s ometimes believe this isn’t a world where I want to be living; it’s a world that seems like a nightmare from which I can’t wake.

Whether I’m roaming the streets of downtown Toronto or scanning through Instagram pictures online, I notice religious symbols are increasingly being used as fashion statements.

I visited the Art Gallery of Ontario in April to see the exhibit “Revealing the early Renaissance: Stories and Secrets in Florentine Art” that has been running since mid-March. The exhibit showcases a collection of religious panels, pages, books, stained-glass windows and altar decorations made by artisans in and around Florence, Italy, during the 14th century. Although these pieces were created centuries ago, we can still find a connection to God and the Catholic community through these works.

I attended Catholic elementary schools, and when I was in Grade 8, I was choosing a high school to attend. The most popular question people asked me was whether I would choose to attend a public or a Catholic high school. I knew that whatever school I chose — public or Catholic — it wouldn’t mean I’d lose my faith. Catholic schools aren’t a place where you’re forced into your faith, but rather taught how to strengthen it.