MISSISSUAGA - Fr. Carlos Macatangga said that Christ died on the cross so that we might have eternal life.

Her body is thin and tense. It carries the anguish, the hurts and false steps, of years. Her face does not as yet reveal the pain she’s known in her young life. She doesn’t cry. Alone, sometimes, she has bursts of uncontrollable stormy tears. Never the gentle kind and never for long. 

The rich man who came to Jesus looking for the meaning of life had kept all the commandments. Still, an emptiness remained. “What do I still lack?” he asked Jesus (Matthew 19:20).

Gone prematurely, remembered always.

Rebecca Maureen (Becky) Beaton passed away early one mid-May morning after a gutsy 30-month battle with cancer. Becky was just 36 and I was proud to call her my niece for that seemingly brief period of time.

Fifth Sunday of Easter, April 29 (Year B) Acts 9:26-31; Psalm 22; 1 John 3:18-24; John 15:1-8

DETROIT – Three brides in long, white dresses stood before the altar of the Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Detroit. There was not a single groom in sight.

As I write this, I’m fixated on a photo of eight-year-old Saffie Rose, the youngest victim of the Manchester bombing. Her picture is part of a newspaper photo array of the young victims of that awful night.

Towards the end of the summer, I met my friend John for coffee. A recurring event, not nearly frequent enough, but invariably enriching to heart and mind.

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C) July 17 (Genesis 18:1-10a; Psalm 15; Colossians 1:24-28; Luke 10:38-42)

Sometimes there is more than meets the eye in the people we encounter each day. Thousands pass us anonymously, while occasionally we exchange a few words or a gesture with certain individuals. Is this accidental or coincidental? 

Both the passion and the cross are visceral images for Christians. The cross confirms our identity. It is a sign of both blessing and suffering. It is an essential part of our holy spaces, marking our membership in the community of Christ. Without the passion, there would be no Resurrection, and no Christian faith. Christ died on the cross for us so our sins would be forgiven. It is the cross, and the brokenness of the person who died on it, that are the secret of the Gospels, Oblate Father Ronald Rolheiser writes in his latest book, The Passion and the Cross.

Fourth Sunday of Easter (Year C) April 17 (Acts 13:14, 43-52; Psalm 100; Revelation 7:9, 14b-17; John 10:27-30)

There are many ways to relate a series of events, poetic, scientific, artistic and journalistic modes among them. When most people hear the word “history” they think of a straight-forward narration of unvarnished “facts.” Nothing could be farther from the truth. There is no such thing as an unbiased or dispassionate narrator — everyone has a point to make, an axe to grind, an agenda to address or an ideology to advance. This should not really surprise anyone, and there is nothing nefarious or sinister about it. 

There’s nothing quite like the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to give one a sense of the origins of Christianity.

Resurrection of the Lord (Year C) March 27 (Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Psalm 118; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18)

The most profound and gripping theologies take the form of a story. Few people are moved by dry metaphysical speculations or hairsplitting, but many are moved by a powerful story. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus is as one movie title had it, The Greatest Story Ever Told. Perhaps that is part of the problem in our own time — we have opted for an overly rationalized and skeptical approach to our faith, allowing the power and excitement of the great story to slip away.