Author: admin

There is a scene in the emotional movie, “Good Will Hunting”, where Will is laid back against a wooden desk and his therapist looks at him lovingly after hearing something that happened in his past. The therapist says, “It’s not your fault”. Will, still laid against the desk, scoffs, shrugs it off and says, “I know that”. The therapist gingerly steps forward and says again, “It’s not your fault”. Will blinks, looking confused with a slight, crooked smile, “I know”? Then again, the therapist says, “it’s not your fault”. Slowly, we see Will’s face start to change. We may even see his eyes start to well with tears. The therapist keeps saying and keeps coming physically and emotionally closer, “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault”. At the end, we see Will and the therapist embrace. Will’s sobs are the sound of a real cathartic release. 

Speaking as a counsellor, this scene is such a powerful picture of something moving from the head to the heart — from knowing to believing. Will knew in his mind that it wasn’t his fault; but until that moment, his heart did not.

Practicing our faith can sometimes be like Will’s experience. We know the Bible verses. We know to attend Mass. We know novenas and prayers ‘work’ but we struggle to believe that God will intervene within our families struggling with addictions, turmoil, grief, sicknesses etc…Like Will, “We know”. Yet sometimes, it feels like our heart is still catching up to what our head knows. Why does this happen?

In counselling school, I learned the phrase: “staying in the cognitive”, which is deciphering when a client tends to stay ‘‘in the brain’’, speaking in a matter-of-a-fact way; ultimately deciding not to feel things in the heart for whatever good and protective reason. This was a way to live safely as sometimes the heart is too unsafe, fragile and vulnerable. To “stay in the cognitive” feels safer than entering life fully with gusto and zeal. 

When someone stays in the cognitive, the counselling belief is that we get to know about their story, but not how they truly felt in that lived experience. For example, if a client tells me about a breakup and recounts how it happened, without the details of how they felt about the breakup, I am not getting the full story. Did they feel that it was unfair? Or needed? Both elements of the story – the facts and the feelings –  are needed because both can be used for God’s glory. Like most things of God and His character, there is no either/or, but a both/and. 

I fell in love with the genealogy of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel decades ago, when I encountered it—in rapid succession—in both Fr. Raymond Brown’s “A Coming Christ in Advent” and Gail Godwin’s novel “Evensong.” Unfortunately, even daily Mass-goers won’t get to hear it this year, as it’s proclaimed only when December 17 (the first day of the “O Antiphons” leading up to Christmas) does not fall on a Sunday. 

Matthew’s genealogy is a startling, tongue-twisting list of fathers that also includes four mothers:  Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba. Their tales are filled with fraught sexual encounters, including incest, prostitution, and rape. We may be tempted to look away–or even question how these brutal stories can be considered sacred texts. And yet, each of these women played a key role in the history of salvation. So, in the spirit of the first antiphon—O Wisdom—let’s peek at the wisdom of our foremothers in faith. 

Tamar (Genesis 38)

In biblical times, if a married man died childless, his brother had to marry the widow to father an heir for the deceased. Tamar had married Judah’s oldest son, Er, who died, then his middle son Onan, who also died. Judah—understandably skittish—asked Tamar to wait a few years before marrying his youngest, Shelah. When it became clear that a third wedding was not forthcoming, Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and tricked Judah into sleeping with her; their son Perez became an ancestor of Jesus. 

After news of her pregnancy kindled her father-in-law’s rage, Tamar confronted Judah with the truth, and he admitted, “She is in the right.” Why was she praised for her deceit? I believe it’s because the marriage protocol in question was not just a human precept; it was what the people understood as divine law. Tamar knew it, and so did Judah. Instead of placing her hope in men, Tamar bravely placed her hope in God—and took matters into her own hands.

When have women (and men) of our day struggled with dawning awareness that those who should have known better were not doing the right thing? My mind goes straight to the clergy scandal, which eroded the trust of countless Catholics. Yet I also think of politicians who put the wishes of the gun and fossil fuel lobbies above the welfare of children, and of CEOs who amass wealth while denying their workers a living wage. In the face of their disgraceful conduct, I am inspired by women and men who speak truth to power, often at personal risk. Tamar is the patron saint for those who take bold action in the service of God’s vision—for our Church and for our world.

“O Come, O Come Emmanuel” is one of my favorite hymns, if not my all-time favorite. This hymn is ubiquitous with the Advent season and is heard in most Catholic churches in the United States at least once in the season. The words of this hymn, simultaneously wonderfully ancient and ever-new, are based on what is referred to as the “O Antiphons.” Now, maybe you already knew that, maybe you’ve heard of the “O Antiphons” before, or maybe you’re now wondering what an antiphon even is. Chances are though, you’ve heard this hymn and might have wondered where it came from.

An antiphon is a short phrase or sentence that is used in liturgies like the Mass or Liturgy of the Hours. Antiphons serve as small refrains and often highlight a particular message or prayer of the season. In this case, the “O Antiphons” refer to the specific antiphons used in Vespers (evening prayer of Liturgy of the Hours) that go with reciting the Magnificat (Mary’s prayer of praise from Luke) from December 17 to 23. Together, these seven antiphons – all of which start with calling upon Jesus Christ with an exclamatory O, hence the name –  help to serve as a prayerful conclusion to Advent, a homestretch prayer on our way to Christmas.

Structurally, each antiphon has two key parts. The first is a traditional title of Jesus Christ as the messiah, the one who was promised to come, such as Emmanuel, used by Gabriel in the Annunciation meaning “God with us.” These titles reflect how the prophets thought of the coming messiah and who he is. The second part of each antiphon is a reflection of that role by drawing upon the words of the prophet Isaiah. This portion helps to reflect on the mission and ministry of the messiah and how he would live out that particular title. For us as Christians, we use these prophetic titles and words to reflect on Jesus Christ, what he has done in history, and how he continues to act in our lives today.

We can sit with these seven little phrases and draw upon their richness in helping us to know Jesus Christ as the wisdom of God, guiding us in our lives and actions. We too call upon Jesus Christ in a longing way as we look forward to and hope for his second coming. So just as the prophets longed for his first arrival, we too wait eagerly and look forward to his return in glory.

December 17: O Sapientia

O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet gentle care.

A week after The Catholic Register revealed that pro-life advocate Alissa Golob went undercover while 22 weeks pregnant to test whether late-term abortions were accessible in Canada without medical justification, the national response continues to intensify, with a new twist: a fourth hidden-camera video that Golob says she is legally barred from releasing.

Golob, co-founder of RightNow, posed as an undecided pregnant woman in abortion facilities in Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver, and Calgary in 2023. The Nov. 19 Register story detailed her conversations with counsellors and physicians who told her late-term abortions could be arranged at nearby hospitals, sometimes “up to 32 weeks,” without needing to provide medical reasons.

Staff described procedures as a “mini stillbirth,” advised her she could “expel the fetus in the car,” and said reasons such as already having two children or “not wanting to be pregnant” were acceptable.

Those recordings — three of which have now been released — directly contradict long-standing political claims that late-term abortions in Canada are only performed in cases of maternal health risk or severe fetal anomalies.

In an email interview with The B.C. Catholic, Golob said the reaction from Canadians has been more visceral than she expected.

The dominant response has been “overwhelming shock and horror from the average Canadian who didn’t think late-term abortions were possible,” she said.

Many who describe themselves as pro-choice wrote to her saying the recordings were disturbing and that unrestricted late-term abortion “just shouldn’t be allowed.”

By contrast, she said some abortion-rights advocates have reacted with confusion and contradiction. “They were basically trying to throw everything they could at it to see if anything would stick,” she said. “Some said the videos were lies, some said late-term abortions don’t happen — despite the videos proving otherwise.”

Golob said the most significant development since the Register story broke is her discovery that she cannot release the Calgary footage at all.

“Alberta, shockingly, has the most extreme and over-reaching bubble-zone legislation in the country,” she said. “Distributing any footage recorded in the bubble zone could result in a fine or jail time.”

She called the legislation “worse than Ontario and even Montreal,” meaning the fourth video will remain unreleased unless the province changes its law.

Although no physician has contacted her privately, Golob says some health-care professionals reacted strongly in group chats and medical forums.

“Doctors were trying to disprove that late-term abortions happen until others in the chat posted my undercover videos,” she said.

I am generally not a fan of television series, usually finding myself weary of the attempts to provide novelty to something that merely becomes predictable. Of course, there are exceptions. I found myself spellbound by Ken Burns’ Civil War series and fascinated by his most recent American Revolution feature, though I recognize that neither is the sort of thing that is normally dubbed a “television series”.

In that realm it is a mark of my television watching that I gave up on Downton Abbey within a few episodes of the first series, despite recognizing its superb production values. So it is that the only series I remember with pleasure, admiration and continued fascination is The West Wing.

However, my reaction to television has recently undergone an enormous change thanks to a limited series (available on Netflix): Adolescence.

This series has much to recommend it. To begin with, it consists of only four one-hour episodes. While it seems to start with a fairly familiar scenario – police invading a home and accusing a 14-year-old boy of murder – it follows a far less obvious plot development. Each episode shows the impact of the murder investigation on the boy, his family, his school and the investigators. The result is not only fascinating as a study of people involved in crisis, but a storyline which raises a multitude of concerns about the justice system, the world of today’s adolescents, approaches to parenting and intergenerational relationships. It offers stimulus for many hours of dinner conversation around the kitchen table.

As if all this were not enough, the series has been filmed with astonishing bravura.

Each episode is filmed in one uninterrupted take or shot. Technically this almost defies belief, requiring as it does perfect timing for each complicated story component, as well as amazing camera work. It is a measure of the difficulty of this that some episodes took over 50 attempts before a satisfactory one could be completed. Of course, the film makes enormous demands on all involved. Most obvious to the viewer are the demands placed on the actors, whose skills are tested to the limit. What is truly impressive is that the entire cast, including several young actors, acquit themselves superbly, lending the film even greater authenticity.

In comparison, Adolescence makes the 90-minute one-shot Russian Ark look simple, though it is, of course, in itself a magnificent achievement.

Nor is this use of intricate camera work simply a filmic gimmick. The result of the approach to the filming is that it draws the viewer into the narrative in a unique fashion, forcing one to be an intimate part of the action and causing one constantly to assess for oneself and personally the social and emotional concerns of each development.

Over the past few years, I have referred to and quoted author Emily Stimpson Chapman several times. I originally discovered her essays during COVID, on the online platform Blessed Is She, and subsequently began to follow her on Instagram and Substack. I own a few of her books, and I have used some of the writing published in her weekly newsletter Through a Glass Darkly in my work with students and parents.

Emily Stimpson Chapman was educated in theology at Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio. She has written several Catholic books of her own and has likewise co-authored numerous books with other Catholic authors, including Scott Hahn. While her education and credentials are impressive, what has always drawn me most to Stimpson Chapman is her personable style.

She writes with knowledge and insight and does not waver on, or attempt to disguise, the truths of Catholic teaching. However, her gift for writing in a relational format — weaving personal vulnerability, real-life situations, and even humour into her work — makes readers feel as though they are sitting around the kitchen table with a friend.

Therefore, when I first heard of her work on a Bible for children, sponsored by Word on Fire, I was pleased that Stimpson Chapman’s knowledge and relational writing style would reach a younger crowd. I was intrigued to see how she would use her gift of language to present the Word to children while supporting parents as their children’s first catechists.

As the launch of the Bible drew nearer, my Catholic email and Instagram sources continued to pique my interest in this project. It is advertised as “the first distinctly Catholic story Bible that tells the entire story of salvation history through beautiful illustrations, quotes from the voices of the Church, and typological references that show how the Old and New Testaments are connected.”

I was curious about the unique style of this Bible. Additionally, the glimpses of Diana Renzina’s artwork that I saw online were outstanding. A close friend was also interested in this Bible and ordered one for each of us from Holy Family Catholic Gift and Book Store in Langley. Mine, she told me lovingly, was an early Christmas gift from her. I could not think of a better gift.

The Story of All Stories is marketed as a “Catholic Bible for children ages seven to thirteen.” While it certainly appeals to this age group and prepares them to read the actual Bible, I would like to clarify that The Story of All Stories is truly “the story for all ages” and “the story for all people.” In short, it is catholic in every sense of the word.

A four part Advent series on the nature and character of Mary, our Mother. 

It really can be different this year.

In a couple of weeks, as Americans recover from stuffing themselves with turkey and holding their tongues at Thanksgiving family gatherings across the nation, Advent will quietly arrive. It will slip in through the back door largely unnoticed and be briefly thought of on Sundays in December when parishes light their purple-and-pink-candled wreaths.

But the season of Advent deserves our attention. It’s a gift before the rest of the gifts start flowing, an invitation to slow down and prepare ourselves for the Savior, whose birth we will soon be remembering and celebrating once again.

Making Advent meaningful is all about what happens before it even begins. Here are nine things you can do right now to help ensure that the weeks leading up to Christmas are sacred and joyful for you and your loved ones:

1. Get your Christmas shopping done before Advent begins on Nov 29. 

I know, this probably seems impossible. And let’s face it, it’s hard to go there when the Thanksgiving menu hasn’t even been planned. But if you have most of your shopping done before Advent arrives, you’ll save yourself a huge amount of time and stress, which will give you more energy to devote to what Advent is supposed to be about—prayer, being present and peacefully preparing for the great feast of Christmas. Which brings us to another point about shopping …

2. Be thoughtful about what you buy.

When you’re intentional about what and where you shop, both Advent and Christmas are more meaningful. Save yourself time in traffic, parking lots, and malls by shopping locally if you can—and online. Consider using your hard-earned dollars to support artisans both at home and abroad—as well as monasteries and religious orders that make and sell beautiful handcrafted items. (Aleteia will soon be coming out with our 2015 best gifts from monasteries and convents, so stay tuned.)

3. Pick no more than three Advent traditions this year and stick to them. 

It’s tempting to want to do it all, but that’s a recipe for crazy-making. Decide which three activities are best for you and your family this year and commit to them. Gather the supplies you need. It’s no fun running around at the last-minute trying to find candles for your Advent wreath—or looking for them two weeks after Advent has begun. So prepare now. Order your wreaths. Gather your Jesse tree craft items. Buy the treats you’re planning to put into your kids’ shoes for the feast of St. Nicholas. Whatever the traditions are going to be, get a head start on them.

4. Commit to spiritual reading this Advent.

For anyone on late shifts, holiday shifts, overtime, weekend shifts — this one’s for you.

There’s a particular feeling that comes when you clock into work just as everyone else is settling down with pumpkin pie or slipping into their Christmas pajamas. It’s that mix of “I’m doing something important” and … “really?” The rest of the world seems to be clinking glasses while you’re tapping on keyboards, flipping the “Open” sign, or adjusting your badge for another long night.

But before frustration settles in, it’s worth noticing something quietly beautiful: Some of life’s richest blessings reveal themselves precisely when we’re working while everyone else is resting. And no, they don’t always look glamorous — but they’re real.

1. The gift of unusual peace

There’s an unexpected serenity that settles over the world when your shift begins just as everyone else goes home. The pace softens. The noise eases. You may be stocking shelves, answering calls, serving late-night meals, or beginning another overnight shift, but there’s a peacefulness to it — a stillness most people never encounter.

In that quiet, you can think again. You can pray. You can breathe in a way that feels impossible at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday.

It’s a blessing wrapped in silence.

2. The fellowship of the “Night Crew”

Working late or working holidays creates a special camaraderie. Whether you’re in healthcare, retail, hospitality, ministry, public safety, or any behind-the-scenes role, you begin to recognise others who are also “on duty.” A nod, a shared joke, a sympathetic smile at 11:47 p.m. on Christmas Eve — suddenly, you’re part of a small tribe of people keeping life moving.

There’s a blessing in that belonging: the sense that what you do matters, even if it’s unseen.

3. Front-row seats to other people’s joy

When you work while others relax, you witness joy up close — families reunited, friends laughing, people grateful simply to be together. Their happiness can spill over onto you in unexpected ways. A whispered thank-you, a relieved smile from someone you’ve helped, a child waving as you mop the floor — these tiny gestures become moments of shared joy.

You discover gratitude in places others overlook.

4. A quiet form of imitating Christ

There’s a profoundly spiritual dimension to serving quietly. Jesus did some of His most tender work in the margins — in the late hours, the quiet moments, the overlooked spaces. Working holidays or weekend shifts can feel like stepping into those Gospel scenes. You are keeping vigil, offering presence, making life possible for others.

Your shift becomes a quiet offering — a hidden liturgy of service.

5. Rest becomes a true gift

One of the secret blessings of odd-hour work is that it transforms rest.

“Give us this day our daily bread.” With those words from the Lord’s Prayer, the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops (CCCB) is framing a new national reflection on food insecurity.

On the World Day of the Poor, Nov. 16,the bishops released Our Daily Bread: Food Security and the Call to Solidarity, a 10-page pastoral letter issued through the Episcopal Commission for Justice and Peace.

The document begins by grounding its message in the Gospel petition for daily sustenance, describing it as a cry heard from people facing rising food costs in Canada and severe food insecurity around the world. Citing the United Nations International Fund for Agricultural Development, the bishops note that “more than 1 in 10 people are suffering severe food insecurity” and that more than three billion people cannot afford a healthy diet. They add that even in an affluent country like Canada, more households are struggling to access nutritious food.

The letter is organized around three themes – Solidarity, Harmony, and Harvest. Under Solidarity, the bishops quote St. John Paul II’s definition of solidarity as “a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good.”

The letter cites the teaching of St. Paul VI and Pope Francis on the structural causes of poverty and highlights practical responses such as reducing food waste, simplifying consumption, choosing local produce, and supporting measures that improve the financial circumstances of households with low incomes. The letter cites research from the University of Toronto’s PROOF program, which studies policy approaches to reduce food insecurity, to show how it inadequate access to food declines when low-income families receive additional income.

The bishops also note that food security in Canada is connected to housing affordability and emphasize the importance of a just wage, quoting St. John Paul II’s statement that a just wage is the key measure of whether a socioeconomic system is functioning justly. They further warn that food insecurity is often worsened by conflict, displacement, environmental harm, and damage to local food systems.

In the section on Harmony, the letter encourages Catholics to renew their relationship with the land. It points to the growth of community gardens and sustainable agricultural practices as hopeful signs of stewardship and highlights the value of innovations that increase food production without degrading the environment. Drawing on Psalm 65, the bishops offer thanks for the work of farmers and harvesters who help sustain creation’s gifts.

Under Harvest, the bishops reaffirm the “universal destination of the goods of the earth” and stress that food is not merely another commodity.