Author: admin

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.

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.