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VATICAN CITY — Vancouver Archbishop Richard Smith was among 54 new metropolitan archbishops who received the pallium from Pope Leo XIV during a solemn Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica June 29, a sign of their communion with the Pope and responsibility to lead with unity, fraternity, and missionary zeal.

In his homily for the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul, the Pope said archbishops must set an example of “fraternity and reconciliation” within a Church that needs “unity in diversity.”

“The whole Church needs fraternity, which must be present in all of our relationships, whether between lay people and priests, priests and bishops, bishops and the Pope,” he said during his homily at Mass on the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul June 29.

“Fraternity is also needed in pastoral care, ecumenical dialogue and the friendly relations that the Church desires to maintain with the world,” the Pope said.

“Let us make an effort, then, to turn our differences into a workshop of unity and communion, of fraternity and reconciliation, so that everyone in the Church, each with his or her personal history, may learn to walk side by side,” he said.

The feast day celebration in St. Peter’s Basilica included the traditional blessing of the pallium, the woolen band that the heads of archdioceses wear around their shoulders over their Mass vestments and symbolizes an archbishop’s unity with the Pope and his authority and responsibility to care for the flock the Pope entrusted to him.

Pope Leo revived a tradition begun by St. John Paul II in 1983 by personally placing the pallium around the shoulders of the recently named archbishops.

Pope Francis had changed the ceremony starting in 2015. The late Pope had invited new archbishops to concelebrate Mass with him and be present for the blessing of the palliums as a way of underlining their bond of unity and communion with him, but the actual imposition of the pallium was done by the nuncio and took place in the archbishop’s archdiocese in the presence of his faithful and bishops from neighboring dioceses.

The Office for the Liturgical Celebrations of the Supreme Pontiff issued a formal notification June 11 that on June 29 Pope Leo would preside over the Eucharistic celebration, bless the palliums and impose them on the new metropolitan archbishops.

According to the Vatican, 54 archbishops from more than two dozen countries who were named over the past 12 months received the palliums. The Pope blessed the palliums after they were brought up from the crypt above the tomb of St. Peter. Each archbishop then approached Pope Leo by the altar and either knelt or bowed their head as the Pope placed the pallium over their shoulders.

For someone who never attended his own university graduations, it’s ironic that I’ve ended up in a profession where I spend upwards of 10 to 12 hours a year on convocation stages. Such is the somewhat charmed life of an academic: we have the opportunity to join a platform party and watch the excitement — sometimes the outright terror — of our students as they reach a critical milestone shared with family, friends, and the community at large.

As a university and college president, I have had the honour of delivering dozens of convocation speeches — to my own institution or as a commencement speaker for others — and I am always impressed, and sometimes humbled, by the energy and passion of the teams that put these events together. Standing in front of sometimes hundreds of nervous graduands, it is easy to see that few, if any, take the momentousness of the occasion for granted.

I always begin my speeches by quoting one critic who observed that convocations are strange events “where a speaker tells hundreds of students dressed in identical caps and gowns that individuality is the key to success.” While that’s certainly a playful truth, it’s also always evident how unique all students are as they move toward you to shake your hand, to shyly or boldly wave to the crowd, or even to deliver a student address that moves you to the core.

This year’s St. Mark’s and Corpus Christi College Convocation was bittersweet. Sweet because the largest graduating class in our history marked St. Mark’s 70th anniversary, and Corpus Christi’s 25th anniversary, as Catholic post-secondary institutions in British Columbia. Bitter because we bade farewell to our longtime chancellor, Archbishop Miller, spiritual head of the Archdiocese of Vancouver for nearly 19 years.

In a typically powerful closing address, Archbishop Miller — himself a former university president — reminded us of the value of education generally, and of the special quality of a faith-based post-secondary experience.

“The education you’ve received here entails more than a diploma. It is a calling to lead with the integrity of truth, to serve with compassion armed with the Church’s social doctrine, and to walk humbly with the Lord. Let faith be your compass, knowledge your guide, and love be the virtue imbuing your future,” he said.

He also noted:

“You are receiving diplomas at the beginning of a new Pope’s term, a Pope who has taken the name of the symbol of St. Mark’s College, the lion, which in Latin is leo. I want to suggest that this might have particular significance for you.”

Our student address, delivered by actor, boxer, and newly ordained deacon Zak Santiago, spoke with equal passion:

“It is about equipping yourself for professional ministry … to approach any vocation through a life-lens of service, grounded in the Gospel.”

14th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year C
First Reading: Is 66:10–14
Second Reading: Gal 6:14–18
 Gospel Reading: Lk 10:1–12, 17–20

Traditionally, we can substitute the word Church for Jerusalem in the Psalms and the Old Testament readings. It is the Church — “that Jerusalem which is above,” whom Christ “loved and for whom he delivered himself up that he might sanctify her,” says the Catechism of the Catholic Church. “It is she whom he unites to himself by an unbreakable alliance, and whom he constantly nourishes and cherishes.”

Therefore, we can say this Sunday, “Rejoice with the Church and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her — that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast.”

Is this how we see the Church? Perhaps we see her more as our own parish — with a building that may depress us, a priest who may bore us, a congregation that may sing flat, and laws that say “no” to everything we want to do.

Perhaps we forget that God has “put all things under Christ’s feet and made him, thus exalted, Head of the Church, which is his body.” Through him, “the whole body grows, and with the proper functioning of the members joined firmly together by each supporting ligament, builds itself up in love.”

The Church is not just a human institution. True, it has you and me in it, so it is finite, weak, sinful, and unattractive. However, it has Christ as its Head, so it is infinite, strong, true, good, and perfect.

Many people see only the human members of the Church, who often let them down. However, even they are far better than we sometimes realize.

First, there is the man Jesus, who was sinless. He never let us down: he healed, consoled, forgave, and comforted or strengthened us.

Second, there is Mary, who was completely without fault.

Third, there are the saints.

To the canonized saints we may add the millions of “ordinary souls” who have gone before us with little or no recognition. We may also add the many good people we know in our own lives — people who try to do God’s will and usually succeed.

Despite all the good there is around us, we often see only the bad. We are often guilty of what the Catechism calls rash judgment: the assumption, without sufficient foundation, that someone else is morally at fault. To avoid this mistake, the Catechism says, we should be careful always to interpret other people’s thoughts, words, and actions favourably, as far as possible.

The Ten Commandments tell us to “honor thy mother and father”, but what does that really look like? Especially for adult children?

Parents are not perfect, and sometimes they make mistakes that leave us and others wounded. So when God tells us to honor them, what does he mean by that? There’s a certain respect that all are owed simply by their personhood, and then there’s a respect that someone deserves because of their role or position. But what if our parents are dishonorable people? Does this commandment change once we’re adults out of their direct care?

Today, Father Mike explains how we can love difficult parents.

For my first attempt at Eucharistic adoration, I was late.

I had signed up online for adoration at our church’s chapel. I chose a slot at 2 p.m. on a Friday. That morning, I saw a reminder on my paper desk calendar, and then promptly forgot about it. Until about 5:45. Oops. I went online and a 6 p.m. slot was still open. I raced over to church, and got there at 6:10. As I hurried across the parking lot, I realized that even though I had been a parishioner for about eight years, I had never actually been in the chapel. I wasn’t even 100 percent sure where it was. But I guessed right, and walked into the small, simple room to find several other people sitting or kneeling before the host encased in a gold monstrance on the little altar. It was a reminder that I didn’t have to be totally certain about something to be right about it in the end. It was also reassuring to know that even if I lag behind, there are other pilgrims with me on the journey.

For I was late to adoration in another sense. I had spent my first forty-some years in traditions where the Real Presence was never a major topic. The most helpful insight I heard then was that the Eucharist is a holy mystery. And this is true as far as it goes. However, about three decades ago, I entered the Catholic Church, and I began to see that we benefit from trying to understand holy mysteries, even if our progress is slow. For instance, this winter my wife and I read Bishop Robert Barron’s booklet on the Eucharist, “This Is My Body,” aloud to each other, and we learned a lot. Still, this mystery is deep enough that more than reading is required. I thought enduring an hour of adoration might help.

I dreaded it, however, because I thought sitting in silence would drive me nuts. The first thing I learned in the chapel, though, was that the silence was comfortable. I didn’t feel the need to do anything. I had brought a spiritual book to turn to if overcome by tedium, but I didn’t look at it. I felt in tune with just … being there. I suspect that, as an occasional writer, I felt relieved from the tumult of “words, words, words.”

The monstrance was lovely, yet at the same time it highlighted the host’s plainness, and thus its power. Yes, the wafer is the most ordinary thing in the world; that is precisely why it is so extraordinary. That the Almighty becomes the substance of the wafer is the pledge that he is part of everything, in some way, even if we don’t see or understand how. 

Historically, the word “rule” (regula) didn’t mean a set of laws to obey, but rather a guide for growing toward the good — like a trellis supporting a vine.

Most of us, it seems, are not called to the cloister. We have dishes to wash, meetings to attend, children to raise, aging parents to care for. And yet, many people — religious or not — find themselves longing for something monasteries seem to hold: rhythm, meaning, peace. The good news is you don’t need to be a monk to draw wisdom from monastic life. A rule of life can anchor anyone who seeks to live with intention.

Historically, the word “rule” (regula) didn’t mean a set of laws to obey, but rather a guide for growing toward the good — like a trellis supporting a vine.

Monastic rules, like that of St. Benedict, weren’t designed to stifle life but to shape it. They balanced prayer, work, community, and rest into a daily pattern that could be lived out faithfully for decades, even in times of uncertainty or suffering.

And while those in monastic communities take formal vows, each of us is called to discern how we uniquely live out our own vocation — whether that’s through marriage, single life, consecrated life, or something still unfolding. Developing a somewhat personal rule of life can help us discover not just how to live, but how to live well, in a way that aligns with our deepest identity and gifts.

Clarity

In other words: You don’t need to live in a monastery to live with clarity. You don’t need to chant the Psalms at dawn to seek holiness. But you do need some rhythm — a way of life that keeps you grounded when distractions multiply or fatigue sets in. A rule of life helps you say yes to what matters and no to what doesn’t, not just in emergencies, but every day.

St. Benedict’s motto, ora et labora — pray and work — speaks to this. His Rule didn’t separate the sacred from the ordinary. Tending the garden, cooking the meals, caring for guests: it was all part of the same life of prayer. For us, too, our work, rest, and relationships can all be shaped by grace, if we approach them intentionally.

Some people imagine a rule of life must be elaborate or intensely spiritual. In truth, it can be rather simple–or begin with adopting some regular habits. Over time, these rhythms become formational. They reveal our unique spiritual temperament and charisms—what gives us life and how we are called to give life to others.

Euthanasia has moved beyond targeting baby boomers and now poses risks to their children’s generation, says Alex Schadenberg, executive director of the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition.

Schadenberg delivered a keynote address for the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition and Euthanasia Resistance BC  on May 26 at the Sheraton Vancouver Wall Centre.

Although legally termed Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD) after being legalized in Canada in 2016, Schadenberg said MAiD is actually a soft word for homicide.

In 2023, Canada reported 15,343 deaths by euthanasia, up from 13,241 in 2022 and 4,493 in 2018. Schadenberg predicts the 2024 totals will hit be over 16,000.

Those are just the official numbers. The actual number of euthanasia deaths is likely much higher since underlying medical conditions are often listed as the cause of death for those who undergo MAiD rather than the euthanasia procedure itself.

A report by the Ontario Chief Coroner evaluated euthanasia deaths from 2018 to 2023 and found that requests were driven by homelessness, fear, and isolation. Schadenberg said that indicates Canadians with disabilities are needlessly dying by euthanasia.

The Ontario report also found at least 428 non-compliant euthanasia deaths in the province.

In 2021, the federal law was expanded by removing the terminal illness requirement and the 10-day waiting period. There are now two tracks for accessing MAiD: one for the terminally ill with no waiting period, and another for non-terminal cases, which requires a 90-day waiting period. Both tracks require individuals to have an “irremediable medical condition.”

The Canadian government had been moving toward permitting euthanasia solely for mental illness but delayed the expansion until 2027 after opposition from the medical and disability communities.

Psychiatrist Dr. K. Sonu Gaind of the University of Toronto has argued that predicting whether a mental illness is irremediable is impossible since mental suffering is subjective. In an article he co-authored earlier this year, he wrote, “Research shows that assessors attempting to determine whether a mental illness is irremediable would be wrong more than half the time.”

Awareness of those limitations may help explain the delay in allowing MAiD access for mature minors and those with mental illness in a country that is already so permissive when it comes to euthanasia. Schadenberg attributes the pause on MAiD expansion to a wave of media attention reporting controversial cases that emerged after the second expansion of the law.

Take Amir Farsoud, an Ontario man whose doctor suggested MAiD when Farsoud feared becoming homeless. Farsoud made it clear to his doctor that he did not want to die – he simply could not live without financial support.

In another case, a 23-year-old man in Quebec was approved for euthanasia solely due to diabetes, a serious but manageable condition.

Your voice matters! Join the conversation by submitting a Letter to the Editor here. 

The Euthanasia Prevention Coalition and the Delta Hospice Society are calling for a comprehensive review of Canada’s medical assistance in dying (MAiD) legislation, citing increasing cases of coercion, confusion with palliative care, and a lack of protections for those who want nothing to do with the practice.

Speaking at a joint press conference on May 7, EPC executive director Alex Schadenberg said that although MAiD has expanded rapidly since its introduction, a full review of the law has never taken place.

“We are calling on the federal and provincial governments to provide a complete review of Canada’s medical assistance in dying law. The reason is simple: it’s never been done,” said Schadenberg.

The coalition fears the increasing integration of MAiD into Canadian health care is eroding trust in hospices and hospitals, especially for vulnerable populations. Both organizations say MAiD is incompatible with traditional palliative care, which aims to neither hasten nor postpone death.

“We support the World Health Organization’s definition of palliative care, which intends neither to hasten nor to postpone death,” Schadenberg said.

Canada’s MAiD law was expanded in March 2021 through Bill C-7, which removed the requirement that a patient’s death be reasonably foreseeable, eliminated the 10-day reflection period for those deemed terminally ill, and introduced a two-tiered system where non-terminal patients must wait 90 days, while the waiting period for terminally ill patients was removed.

The petition comes in the wake of increasing international scrutiny of Canada’s MAiD programs and laws. On March 21, 2025, the United Nations Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities urged Canada to repeal the provision allowing MAiD for those who are not terminally ill (known as “Track 2”). The committee also rejected proposals to expand MAiD access to mature minors, to allow advance directives for euthanasia, and to include mental illness as the sole underlying condition.

Schadenberg emphasized that a genuine review of MAiD must include all perspectives and take into account the personal stories that have emerged.

“I’m not saying [the review] should be focused on limiting the law or not,” he said. “Let the stories come out, and let people see without judgment how this law is working—and how it needs to change.”

He pointed to findings from Ontario’s Office of the Chief Coroner, which reported that poverty, homelessness, fear, and isolation were driving some people to request MAiD. Between 2018 and 2023, the province recorded 428 MAiD deaths that did not comply with legal safeguards.

“These 428 non-compliant deaths prove that the Carter decision [on which the legalization of assisted dying was based] is not being followed. There is no scrupulosity,” said Schadenberg. “This needs further investigation.”

Angela Ireland, president of the Delta Hospice Society, echoed the call for MAiD-free spaces and legal protections for Canadians who want traditional care at the end of life.

Often, in the therapy room, I ask clients about their family, and draw something called a genogram map. Part of my therapeutic framework is that we are influenced, shaped, wounded, loved, delighted in, and healed in our families of origin. As a therapist, families of origin also help me develop a fuller picture of the suffering of the client: their behaviours, thought processes, and ways of being. Internally, I develop more compassion and curiosity towards clients as well. 

I was recently struck by a truth that I read in a blogpost: “To evangelize the culture, we must first see our culture clearly”. There seems to be a parallel here with the above therapeutic practices: when we know where we are and where we stand, we begin to understand ‘the lay of the land’. This awareness will help us figure out more clearly how to move forward. 

The “lay of the land” at the parish level looks something like this: people are coming to church with their Christian significant others having no idea what is going on at Mass. People are sitting in the pews, going out of obligation – not love – for maybe 20+ years. At my parish, there are people showing up who are yearning to belong to some sort of community. Some are coming after years of religious searching and often asking the question, “what is my purpose in this life?”. Additionally we have broken families, single parents, and single people from countries at war are seeking refuge and freedom. 

Our culture is transitioning. Stores are open on Sundays. Families attending church together on Sundays is out of the norm.The assumption that those who choose to send their kids to Christian or Catholic schools are themselves religious is naught. Christian influence on culture is indeed fading; sometimes considered even an unintelligent way to engage with the world. I remember sitting in my Biological Psychology class where my professor stated publicly that if we were to have religious views of the human person, we would have no place in the world of Psychology. 

From Christendom to Apostolic Mission

The mode where the Christian imaginative vision influences society is called Christendom. We are no longer in this mode; instead, we have moved into something called the Apostolic Mode. I do feel that these separate modes are simply different ways to engage, not disengage. We cannot simply wait passively for Christendom to come back (where the secular vision parallels the Christian vision). 

In the Apostolic Mode, the Christian faith does not play a central role in society; in fact, Christianity feels more costly because it is often considered an outdated or indoctrinated way of thinking.