As the COVID pandemic began three years ago, many asked what the new normal might be once it subsided. In that question, there was an optimism, even hope, that a massive amount of suffering and death would smarten us up, spur us to become more concerned for the needs of others. 

With the ending of another year, we celebrate Jesus’ birth, the beginning of a life that leads to life for us all. As we ring in 2023, we need the new life of Christ to combat the culture of death.

In the early 1970s there was a movie called Soylent Green. It starred Charlton Heston and Edward G. Robinson. It was the first film I saw that was a dystopian vision of the future. It took place in a New York City in which the population has exploded to the point of anarchy. In response, the state came up with a voluntary suicide program to lessen the crowding.

It has been more than four months since the end of Pope Francis’ visit to Canada to meet with Indigenous people and apologize for the Catholic Church’s involvement and acts of terror in the Indian residential school system. It’s long enough for the next steps in the journey of reconciliation to have been at least discussed. Yet, there has been next to nothing.

Why are our young people leaving the Catholic Church en masse? Many “panic studies” and “exit polls” have been done to answer the question of this gargantuan exodus. 

Remembrance Day is a powerful time for many, one where we are called on to honour those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. As a long-time volunteer at Remembrance events, one of the minor, and comical, issues I have dealt with is the disappearing poppy.

There are times in our lives when we feel sorry for ourselves and we cry out, “Why me?” Unfortunately for many it is followed by imagining that they hear God saying, “Why you? It’s because I don’t like you, that’s why.” They feel that if they had not sinned or made bad choices, then God would have loved them more and it would have all turned out differently.

Throughout history anti-Semitism has consistently raised its ugly head. From murderous pogroms in Russia to the ultimate in hatred that played out in the Holocaust. Even in Canada when Jews were trying to find refuge in Canada in the 1930s the popular slogan was: None Is Too Many.

The birds took their time this fall, lingering on the Prairies longer than usual. We got more sunshine and warm days than we usually do in Saskatchewan, with autumn stretching nearly two months before the blizzards knocked us squarely into winter. Most of us aren’t ready anyway (how is anyone truly ready for six or more months of winter?). The birds did their practice flights and then took off, if late.

Since my teenage years, I have wondered what a better world would look like. What sort of society should we hope for? I also wonder if our world did become better, would we even know that to be the case. That is, what criteria would enable us to determine when the state of the world had improved?