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Pope Leo XIV has appointed Bishop Stephen A. Hero of Prince Albert, Sask., as the eighth Archbishop of Edmonton, succeeding Archbishop Richard Smith, who became Archbishop of Vancouver in May.

The announcement came just days after the Nov. 17 announcement of Father Susai Jesu, OMI, as the new Archbishop of Keewatin-Le Pas in northern Saskatchewan and Manitoba.

In a letter to the clergy and faithful of Edmonton, Archbishop-Designate Hero said he was “humbled and grateful for the trust placed in me to take up this new mission in the Church and to serve in a community that is already close to my heart.” He will be installed on Jan. 23 , 2026, at St. Joseph’s Basilica in Edmonton.

Archbishop-Designate Hero, 56, is a native of Lachine, Que., and moved to Edmonton at age 10. He was ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Edmonton in 2000 after studies at the Seminary of Christ the King in Mission, B.C., and at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas in Rome. He later obtained a licentiate in liturgical theology from Sant’Anselmo.

He served as an assistant pastor in Edmonton parishes, as vocations director, and then joined the formation team at St. Joseph Seminary in Edmonton. He became vice-rector in 2010 and rector in 2012, teaching spirituality, liturgy, and sacraments at Newman Theological College. Pope Francis appointed him Bishop of Prince Albert in 2021.

In his message to the Diocese of Prince Albert, he expressed sadness at leaving, thanking parishioners, clergy, and religious and, referencing the North Saskatchewan River, noted the “river that flows from Edmonton to Prince Albert” as a reminder of their shared connection and “the same grace of God that gives us life.” He becomes diocesan administrator of Prince Albert until his installation in Edmonton.

His episcopal motto, Deus solus (God alone), comes from Psalm 86:10 and reflects his conviction that God must remain at the centre of Christian life. His updated coat of arms will incorporate the heraldic insignia of an archbishop, including the archiepiscopal cross and 10 tassels on each side. A black field signifies the finiteness of creation; A gold saltire cross marks Christ’s saving death and resurrection; turtledoves evoke St. Joseph and his Temple offering; and 12 stars represent Our Lady and the hope of eternal glory.

Father Paul Kavanagh, administrator of the Archdiocese of Edmonton, welcomed the appointment on behalf of clergy, religious, and faithful, calling the new archbishop “a gift from God” and assuring him of prayers and support as he returns home.

In this conversation, Fr. Mike Schmitz talks with Fr. Boniface Hicks, O.S.B. about one of the hardest realities of life: what to do when the suffering doesn’t end? 

When pain feels endless, when healing doesn’t come, when it seems like God is silent—the Father’s word is not “Get over it.” It’s “Come to me, all you who are weary, and I will give you rest.” 

Together, they explore: 

• How to wait well when you’re waiting for suffering to end
• The difference between complaint and honest lament
• How sharing pain can open us to love and hope
• Why even chronic suffering can be transformed into communion with Christ

What does it really mean to wait for Heaven? And how do we live that waiting well? In this conversation, Fr. Mike Schmitz sits down with Bishop Robert Barron  to talk about one of the most essential (and challenging) parts of the spiritual life: learning to wait for the summum bonum—the highest good, God Himself. 

Bishop Barron and Fr. Mike explore how every joy, loss, desire, and disappointment in this life can become a training in love—preparing us to receive the only one who can truly satisfy the human heart. 

Discover how to wait with hope, how to loosen your grip on the passing things of this world, and how to let God ready your heart for Heaven.

I’ve discerned that complaining helps me feel in control. Over time, my brain became addicted to the feeling.

Complaining can be very satisfying. There’s nothing better than getting the ear of a good friend and launching into all the things wrong with the world and how everyone is making this journey we call life miserable and why (oh why!) can’t people just stop being so annoying and start listening to me. When I manage to fire off a good rant, it makes me feel warm and cozy. Never mind the fact that I’m totally wrong. Never mind the fact that my attitude is unreasonable and unfair, or that I’m dragging my friend down with me into the muck. I still chase that feeling.

There are days when it seems all I do is complain. I complain about how other people drive, the line at the coffee shop, how much work is piled on my desk, how frustrated I am about what a friend said, how messy the house is, how bad the weather is, how I didn’t get the best parking spot, how the plumber isn’t calling me back and why did our shower even start leaking in the first place? It’s not fair.

Having become aware of my cynical need to complain. I’ve worked at significantly decreasing my negative word-count. I’ve asked myself some hard questions about why I fell into such a bad habit. Why is it that complaining feels so good.

I’ve discerned that complaining helps me feel in control. It gives me a sense of superiority. Over time, my brain became addicted to the feeling. All my neurons are now wired to respond with a sense of relief when I fire off a good complaint.

The problem is, even if it feels good to complain, it’s exceedingly harmful. It turns a person inwards, towards pride and lack of appreciation. Complaining blinds us to the good and beautiful, and thus is blinds us to God. Complaint is not meant to be our dominant language.

We are meant to speak praise.

Praise is the natural language of someone attuned to God. It isn’t a naive, generic insistence on false enthusiasm in the face of legitimate problems. Rather, it’s a specific naming of the blessings and beauty we experience on a daily basis in spite of any ill that might befall us.

Not denying that some days are harder than others, praise nevertheless insists on seeking out the presence of God in all circumstances. Having identified the divine presence at work in and through specific events and people, offering praise for them becomes a sort of sacrifice that pushes us through the doorway of Heaven.

VATICAN CITY (CNS) — Pope Leo XIV fulfilled a promise made by the late Pope Francis to return to Canada’s Indigenous communities artifacts — including an Inuit kayak, masks, moccasins and etchings — that have been held by the Vatican for more than 100 years.

The pope gave 62 artifacts to the leaders of the Canadian bishops’ conference Nov. 15, the Vatican and the bishops’ conference said in a joint statement.

The bishops “will proceed, as soon as possible, to transfer these artifacts to the National Indigenous Organizations,” which will ensure they are “reunited with their communities of origin,” said a separate statement from the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops.

‘Concrete sign of dialogue’

Pope Leo “desires that this gift represent a concrete sign of dialogue, respect and fraternity,” the joint statement said. “This is an act of ecclesial sharing, with which the Successor of Peter entrusts to the Church in Canada these artifacts, which bear witness to the history of the encounter between faith and the cultures of the indigenous peoples.”

The artifacts, which came from different First Nation, Métis and Inuit communities, “are part of the patrimony received on the occasion of the Vatican Missionary Exhibition of 1925, encouraged by Pope Pius XI during the Holy Year, to bear witness to the faith and cultural richness of peoples,” the joint statement said.

“Sent to Rome by Catholic missionaries between 1923 and 1925,” it said, “these artifacts were subsequently combined with those of the Lateran Ethnologic Missionary Museum, which then became the ‘Anima Mundi’ Ethnological Museum of the Vatican Museums.”

Indigenous asked for years for their return

Members of Canada’s Indigenous communities have been asking for years that the items be returned. In the spring of 2022, when community representatives visited the Vatican for meetings with Pope Francis before his trip to Canada, they visited the Vatican Museums and were given a private tour of the collection.

In 2023, the Vatican did something similar, giving the Orthodox Church of Greece three marble fragments from the Parthenon in Athens; the church then gave the marbles to the government.

Pope Francis addressed artifacts in 2023

Speaking to reporters in April 2023, Pope Francis had said the Canadian artifacts would be returned.

“This is the Seventh Commandment: if you have stolen something, you must give it back,” he said.

TORONTO — A survey jointly released by the Cardus think tank and the Angus Reid Institute on Nov. 6 indicates 18 per cent of 5,000 surveyed Canadians identify as religiously committed, significantly less than the 37 per cent of the 5,000 polled Americans.

Respondents who self-categorized as religiously committed are more likely to believe in God, pray, read sacred texts and, perhaps most distinguishably, regularly attend liturgical services.

Participants who labelled themselves as privately faithful — 27 per cent of Americans and 19 per cent of Canadians — on Cardus’ Spectrum of Spirituality are likely to engage in worship practices in their own home but are skeptical of organized religion.

The 44 per cent of Canadians and 27 per cent of Americans designated as spiritually uncertain “express doubts over the existence of God or life after death, but do not rule it out.” Notably, 77 per cent of this Canadian segment “say they have feelings of faith and spirituality.”

Nineteen per cent of Canadians branded themselves as non-believers in contrast to 10 per cent of Americans.

This year marked the first time since the Spectrum of Spirituality index was established in 2017 that Cardus and the Angus Reid Institute sought data from Americans in order to present a cross-border comparison of religiosity.

“I don’t think the overall numbers are a surprise,” said Ray Pennings, the executive vice president and a co-founder of Cardus, in reaction to the data. “We’ve known for some time that if you count religious activities, typically in the States on a per capita basis, you end up with almost double the rate that you do in Canada. What I thought was interesting was that the nature of that religious activity, both in terms of the satisfaction it was providing people as well as their participation in public life, is very different in the two countries.”

Pennings alluded to how 70 per cent of Americans strongly or moderately agree with the statement “I’m public about my religion and faith and don’t mind other people knowing I’m a believer,” as opposed to 56 per cent of Canadians.

More strikingly, 56 per cent of Americans believe that individuals who hold public positions should “feel free to speak and act based on their religious beliefs,” a sharp difference from the 66 per cent of Canadians who indicated we should “keep God and religion completely out of public life.”

Correspondingly, 64 per cent of Canadians either strongly or moderately disagree that “religion is very important to my day-to-day life,” while 58 per cent of Americans strongly or moderately agree.

This chasm also bears out with 32 per cent of Americans indicating they feel God’s presence every day, compared to 44 per cent of Canadians who stated they never feel God’s presence.

For months now, friends, parishioners, and longtime companions of the Focolare Movement have been asking the same question: “Is the Focolare closing in Vancouver?”

The honest answer is both yes and no.

After a long period of discernment, our small community of consecrated members has been assigned to serve in countries where the need is greater. That means the Focolare house in Coquitlam — opened in 2001 and home to many years of shared prayer, formation, and daily life — will temporarily close.

But the Focolare itself is not disappearing. Far from it.

Long before any consecrated members arrived, families and individuals throughout the Lower Mainland were already living the “Word of Life,” the spiritual practice drawn from the Gospel that shapes our way of following Christ. When we consecrated members arrived, we simply found people already walking the path of unity.

Over the years, some of us worked within the Archdiocese of Vancouver — in PREP, in parish bookkeeping, and in a variety of ministries. Others taught, served, or accompanied the movement’s young people. Our work was not dramatic, but it was steady: building relationships, offering formation, and trying — imperfectly but sincerely — to live the spirituality of unity in ordinary places.

The heart of the Focolare is the desire expressed by Jesus in John 17:21: “That all may be one.” That mission does not require a house; it requires people committed to living the Gospel wherever they are.

And that is already happening.

This October, families gathered at All Saints Parish in Coquitlam for Mariapolis Day. Monthly family meetings continue around the region, with children’s programs held at the same time. Word of Life groups meet regularly, both in person and on Zoom. Many members are active in their parishes, serving in ministries that quietly strengthen the whole Church.

The closing of our house simply means that the charism is now being lived in living rooms, parish halls, classrooms, workplaces, and around kitchen tables — which is precisely where it is meant to flourish. Chiara Lubich, our foundress, described the “great attraction of modern times” as the ability to reach contemplation while “mingling with everyone, one person alongside others.” Vancouver is full of such places.

Our communities may look different for a time, but the spirituality of unity continues wherever people choose to love first, build bridges, forgive, and work for the common good. In neighbourhoods, at schools, at work, and in parish life, members continue to be the “glue” that brings people together.

If anything, this transition is an invitation to return to the roots of our charism: living the Gospel in simple, concrete ways, trusting that even small acts of unity can strengthen the whole body of Christ.

His 4 tips will help you understand your feelings better.

St. Ignatius Loyola gives such revealing, accurate, and universal advice in his book Spiritual Exercises that it can be used in many life situations. The founder of the Jesuit order was a profound psychologist long before psychology was even a field of study, and two centuries before the term itself was invented.

The book contains practical words of advice for dealing with feelings — whether pleasant or negative — which can be summarized in four points:

Identify

The book by the founder of the Jesuits is full of visual descriptions of emotions. For example, Ignatius writes:

“(…) I use the word ‘consolation’ for every increase in hope, faith and love and every inner joy that calls and attracts to heavenly things and to the salvation of the soul, calming it and soothing in the Creator and Lord …” “By ‘desolation’ I mean (…) the darkness and disturbance in the soul, attraction to what is low and of the earth, anxiety arising from various agitations and temptations.”

Identifying one’s own emotions is not always easy. In psychology, much is said today about being in touch with our feelings. And we can struggle with this, especially if we’re told from childhood that what we want and how we feel is not important. In such a situation, a child focuses on survival and hiding his feelings deeply. Even if he later finds friendly souls, he will often have great difficulty revealing his true feelings. Such difficulties can also arise as a result of traumatic experiences.

Any of us, however, can at times be “in denial” about our own feelings, or somewhat blind to them, if we’re focusing too much on what we think we should be feeling, or on other people’s feelings, etc.

Accept

Allow me to repeat a platitude: feelings are neither good nor bad. Every one of them, even rage or jealousy, are merely information for us. After that, the choice is ours to make either good or bad decisions.

St. Ignatius knew this very well. In Spiritual Exercises, he didn’t chastise, scorn, or condemn the negative emotions, and neither was he too enthusiastic about consolations. For example, he soberly observed that when a person is in the early stages of the spiritual path, the path of virtue is for him sweet, easy and joyful, but when he attains a particular stage of intimacy with God, he begins to feel sadness and discouragement. He doesn’t say either is better than the other; he considers both to be natural.

Understand

The conversion of St. Ignatius began with his awareness that while reading stories about knights and quests, he first felt enjoyment and excitement, but later it was followed by sadness and disappointment.