Church attendance is waning and religious non-affiliation is waxing. That’s hardly news. Observe the empty pews.

For many of us of a certain age, “Who Are You?” by the Who is a seminal song, made popular again as the theme music to the TV show CSI. 

It’s been called a “national health crisis” and a “public emergency.” It’s a major issue in next month’s federal election.

In this federal election, part of me feels like a bystander. If you are like me, an orthodox Christian, someone whose faith is not confined to Sundays, you may feel the same.

Early in his book, Biography of Silence, Pablo d’Ors notes some of the many experiences he cultivated in his life as a young adult — travelling, reading voraciously and having numerous romances. “Like many of my contemporaries, I was convinced that the more experiences I had and the more intense and stunning they were, the sooner and better I would become a complete person.”

At Montreal’s Concordia University, where I study the wonders of Ireland north and south for several hours each week, a large sign asks students how they feel about climate change.

There is a truth about great journalists that long after their columns have faded into the ghosts of time, their words still come back to haunt or to comfort. 

In a few weeks, his many admirers will celebrate the 30th priestly anniversary of Fr. Paul Pearson of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri in Toronto. 

Recently I read a wonderful LinkedIn entry by Aron Laxton about the U.S. Navy’s efforts to study and reinforce aircraft based on planes that had been damaged from the front. Engineers studied and mapped the bullet holes that peppered the “wounded” planes and determined that additional armour needed to be added to the wingtips and to the central body of the aircraft. 

An old adage in development work is the dictum, “Give a person a fish, and you will feed her for one day; teach her how to fish, and you will feed her for a lifetime.”