In mid-December, my doctor confirmed I had cancer. I was told I’d require surgery. Major surgery! ASAP! Not the sort of thing one wants to hear just before Christmas. Not with a pandemic raging. In the weeks that followed I underwent umpteen tests to determine how and when the Beast would be tackled. 

I’ve spoken to Cardinal Joseph Zen a couple of times. He’s a difficult interview — hard headed, spoiling for a fight and rather in love with his own opinions.

Catholics need to be informed about the recent report of the Minister’s Advisory Panel on Systemic Racism and Discrimination. They also need encouragement to speak out, especially those with any relationship to the Canadian Armed Forces. 

This year, within 24 hours, our family will watch our eldest son wed his long-time girlfriend, and another son receive his commission as an Officer of the Canadian Armed Forces (CAF). The former will marry at our parish church where bride and groom first met. The latter, after receiving his commissioning scroll, will pass through the Memorial Arch at the Royal Military College (RMC), Kingston.

With all 10 provinces and three territories newly signed on to the federal system of early learning and child care, there have been a spate of better-late-than-never articles about how this program won’t work as advertised. In short, parents aren’t going to get the deal they were promised.

Politics is in the air — power-sharing deals in Ottawa, a federal Conservative leadership campaign and a provincial election campaign in Ontario that is sure to garner national attention.

I have written that I am a man of conflicted faith. Yet though I lecture as a professor of political geography, I cannot but bear witness to Ukraine’s agony through the lens of my religion, the faith of my Ukrainian Catholic ancestors. To that I confess, wholeheartedly.

Ivan and Olga (not their real names) drive quickly through the street with their infant daughter Lesia. Their fears are realized as they encounter enemy soldiers with guns levelled. Ivan steps out in front of the car, his arms raised. He glances back at the family he loves. The soldiers open fire. Olga too is executed. We don’t know what happens to Lesia.

On Ash Wednesday, March 1 this year, we began a new journey of faith — our Lenten journey. Our 40-day Lenten journey of penance and austerity brings us to the celebration of Easter: a time of joy, light and life.

As war and conflict rage during a prolonged pandemic, Christians prepare to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus who offered peace as a parting gift to His disciples.