It has become commonplace to speak of our current reality as “a time like no other.”

Unfurling Bernadette Devlin, Quebec’s Catholic bishops, Irish nuns and William F. Buckley Jr. in the same thought, never mind one sentence, might be considered psychologically, even rhetorically, impossible. Well, there it is. Impossibility vanquished. 

A woman passes by a crowd protesting public-health measures to curb the spread of COVID-19. Her destination? The hospital, to visit her husband, intubated and fighting for his life from the virus.

I often point out how little we as Christians and social conservatives are respected in Canadian society. It’s as if we are not even citizens and our points of view are so hideous it is taken for granted we deserve to be crushed whenever we articulate our crazy ideas.

It was the walk that first attracted my attention. Not so much a walk as a hobble, dragging one leg painfully after the other. Dusk had descended on the streets and the chill of winter had finally given way to the promise of spring, although it was still far too cold for the many people scattered around the neighbouring homeless shelters.

The recent announcement (April 23) that Cardinal Stefan Wyszynski will be beatified in September brings to mind his dramatic final days in May 1981.

When we talk about a sustainable society, the mind almost automatically shifts to the natural environment. Climate change, pollution, wilderness protection and restrained use of natural resources become the topics at the top of the agenda.

When one hears about a new “Christian” or “Catholic” film, one usually emits an audible groan. Why so? Because — horrifyingly and too often accurately — “Christian” or “Catholic” film is synonymous with “poor quality” and “preachy.”

Amid the deep shadows of ever-expanding MAiD and examples of hospice care being brutally extinguished, a gesture of transformation by the Archdiocese of Montreal lights a candle in the dark.

Imperfection and I have had a rocky relationship. For years, I pretended she didn’t even exist. When she showed up unexpectedly, I dressed her up in different clothes and tried to pass her off as someone else. I recognized, eventually, that she was actually a roommate I despised. And in more recent years, I’ve been trying to be reconciled to my sister. Imperfection has gifts I need, and she has been much more gracious with me than I deserve.