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Over the years, I’ve worked for publishers who came from the business world, and for publishers who came up through the newsroom. The former got upset when advertisers got upset. The latter … they were pretty much always upset.

For the past three decades, though, all my publishers have been bishops. They didn’t seem to get upset. They just got determined.

I remember Archbishop Exner taking public stands that drew so much anger the Vancouver Police advised him to stay away from his office windows at night.

Archbishop Roussin had the courage to take on TELUS publicly when it considered entering the pornography market, and he did that while battling mental illness.

Then Archbishop Miller arrived, bearing the motto Veritati Servire—to serve the truth. It didn’t take long to see he also wasn’t one to shy away from what needed doing.

Shortly after he got here, I asked him to climb up to the roof of 150 Robson Street with a group of Catholic school students. I wanted a front-page photo of him, the kids, and a Canadian flag, with B.C. Place in the background to welcome the world to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

It was probably the last thing he wanted to do that day, but up he went, climbing the stairs and posing until we got the shot just right.

Over the years, he tackled the hard things. He confronted what needed confronting. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. I’m also sure there were times he wished his newspaper would keep quiet. Or that some stories or letters had stayed unpublished. Delicate situations can get more awkward when mishandled in the media.

But he always listened when I asked for his ear. He understood the importance of readers knowing what was happening, and of giving them a space to share their thoughts.

There were certainly times when that openness made things messier. But he never stopped the paper from publishing news, opinions, or letters. He never put restrictions on the stories we reported or the views we printed. Although there was one time when an editorial crossed the line from political to personal, and he let me know it.

Still, he believed the newspaper was a place where the voices of the faithful could be heard. Not pushing the boundaries of faith, but the limits of comfort. People make noise when they’re uncomfortable. And the Church should be a place where that noise can be heard.

Pope Francis says people are messy. The world is messy. Newspapers are literally messy. But Archbishop Miller made space for the mess—for the voices in the pews.

He ordained permanent deacons, established a First Nations ministry, and opened the Archdiocese’s sexual abuse files.

As the universal Church looks twoard the papacy of Leo XIV, Vancouver Catholics celebrated their last Eucharist with Archbishop J. Michael Miller at Holy Rosary Cathedral on May 13.

Feelings were bittersweet and well summarized by Deacon Zak Santiago in a comment to The B.C. Catholic.

Deacon Santiago said that while the Mass was a celebration of Archbishop Miller’s 18-year legacy and his 50 years of priesthood, “there is a tender melancholy as we say farewell to someone who brought such new beginnings to our diocese.”

“I might be minorly biased,” the deacon said, “because he has been my immediate shepherd and ordained me, but I truly believe he is one of the greatest bishops we could have ever asked for. There are some bittersweet feelings, but also it is a celebration.”

Precious Blood Parish Parishioner Icelina Kroutil told The B.C. Catholic she will miss Archbishop Miller and remembers when he first arrived in Vancouver.

“I went to Our Lady of Sorrow for the celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe,” she told The B.C. Catholic. “He gave the ultimate homily about the image of Guadalupe. I remember telling him ‘Father, I have been here for so many years. I am Mexican, and I have never heard such a beautiful homily. I will always keep him in my heart. I will pray for him. I will miss him dearly.”

On the other end of the spectrum, younger Catholics, some of whom have no strong memories of previous archbishops, reflected on their sense of the magnitude of Archbishop Miller’s presence in the local Church.

Rachel Wong, a parishioner at St. Matthew’s in Surrey, said what many young adults were feeling. “I feel like it’s the end of an era, because I really started to pay attention to my faith at a particular part of my life when Archbishop Miller was the face of the Church here in Vancouver.”

“When this is all I’ve ever known, it will be interesting to have that change. It’s a bit exciting, but also sad. It’s bittersweet [to see him go] because obviously he deserves the rest—it is long overdue for him.”

Annabella and Daniel Ma, members of the farewell Mass choir and founders of the local Sacred Music Sunday apostolate, said the Archbishop inspired them and always supported their musical ministry.

Both have memories of his episcopacy stretching back to childhood.

“He confirmed me in Grade 7!” said Annabella. “I don’t really remember the past bishop, so he’s always been ‘the Archbishop.’ I was getting emotional during the Mass.”

For over a year, The B.C. Catholic has been publishing a series of articles that examine more than a century of truth, healing, and reconciliation between the Archdiocese of Vancouver and Canada’s Indigenous peoples. The series has highlighted the complex history of that relationship, the Archdiocesan Synod’s First Nations recommendations, and progress made through dialogue and prayer. This week, the focus is Archbishop J. Michael Miller’s legacy of acknowledging the Church’s role in the residential school system and committing to ongoing healing and reconciliation.

First Nations Ministry

In 2009, Archbishop Miller announced the creation of the Archdiocese’s First Nations Ministry Office. Its mandate was to implement the Archbishop’s pastoral vision, oversee a strategic plan for First Nations ministry, and promote healing. Rennie Nahanee, a parishioner of St. Paul’s in North Vancouver, member of the Squamish Nation, and former Aboriginal liaison to the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, was appointed coordinator.

At a June 2009 celebration marking the 125th anniversary of St. Paul’s Indian Catholic Church, Archbishop Miller echoed Pope Benedict XVI’s sorrow over the suffering caused by residential schools. “It is necessary for me, as Archbishop of Vancouver,” he said, “to acknowledge, regret, and repent for ways in which some members of the Church have failed to respect the cultural differences among us.”

Residential Schools and Structural Sin

In 2010, Msgr. Mark Hagemoen, Episcopal Vicar for Pastoral Services for the Archdiocese, and Sister Marie Zarowny provincial for the Sisters of Saint Ann in Western Canada represented the Archdiocese at a residential school awareness event hosted by the Indian Residential School Survivors Society. They pledged to dismantle discriminatory attitudes and foster conditions where First Nations have a rightful place and voice.

A year later, Archbishop Miller awarded Sister Zarowny an honorary doctorate, thanking her for challenging the Church to embrace its social teaching. With the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) coming to Vancouver, he said: “We must be especially alert to the great questions of reconciliation of First Nations, Métis, and Inuit Peoples and other Canadians.”

In 2013, the bishops of British Columbia and Yukon, including Archbishop Miller, issued a letter inviting Catholics to attend the Vancouver TRC event in September and expressed deep regret and apoligized for abuses that took place in residential schools.

At the TRC gathering on Sept.

If you’re anything like me, then the call to keep holy the Sabbath is something of a challenge, thanks to a constant struggle to maintain work-life balance. Whether you find it easy to overwork without respite or struggle to get started, hitting that happy medium can be difficult. 

Honoring the Sabbath reminds us of the need for this balance: six days for work, and the seventh for worship, self-care, and spiritual and physical restoration. But when it proves difficult to actually live this out, what do we do?

To live properly and pray sincerely, we have to avoid exhaustion. We need time for fun and joy, as these rejuvenate our souls. One saint strongly associated with joy is St. Philip Neri, whom I’ve been inspired by. He uniquely blended holiness and joy throughout his life, earning him the nickname “The Laughing Saint.” Philip Neri’s spirit beautifully encapsulates the Sabbath: a celebration of joyful life unmistakably connected to God.

The saints, as we know, are meant to be our exemplars, so how do we emulate Philip Neri? Well, I can give you an example of what not to do. It’s crucial to be intentional and avoid letting Sunday become overwhelmed with mundane tasks (yard work, for instance), or, for the readers in my age group, schoolwork. So many times I would walk into my college’s library on a Sunday and witness row after row of students hunkered over their studies. Though it is good for students to work, I wished we’d chosen another day to put our noses to the grindstone.

Philip Neri was a very hardworking man, but also one who knew how to balance his duties with fun. Philip’s mission was to restore Rome, which had fallen into spiritual disarray during the early 16th century, to a passionate love of the faith. He accomplished this by establishing authentically human connections with those around him, which sometimes involved deep conversations, but oftentimes did not. He played practical jokes and took part in wine-drinking contests to make himself more approachable to those around him. After Philip’s death, doctors discovered that his heart had grown noticeably larger, to the point of damaging two of his ribs — a true testament to this great man’s jubilant heart.

Everything Philip Neri did, regardless of how frivolous it may have seemed on the surface, had a purpose indisputably connected to God. His entire ministry was treated as one continuous Sabbath, vividly showcasing his blend of holiness and joy. This is why I’ve found him so inspiring personally — the mindset we’re called to emulate on the Sabbath, he exemplified throughout his whole life.

Inspired by his love, passion, and charity, we can bring this saintly approach to the Sabbath into our own lives.

As we journey further into Lent, let’s talk about how we can escape the devil’s grasp. 

It’s no secret that sin is prevalent in our world today, but what’s truly alarming is how numb we’ve become to just how distorted certain things are. 

Fr. Mark-Mary sheds light on how we’re slowly being simmered in the devil’s crockpot, often compromising on sins, but especially sexual sin. He addresses the widespread presence of pornography and sexual immorality in our lives, while urging us to stay vigilant in resisting these temptations.

What did you think of the news?

As a Filipino, in my heart, I was expecting Tagle! (Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle of the Philippines, head of the Vatican’s Dicastery for Evangelization)

Really?

Then Prevost—he’s like a wild card. He’s our brother. I worked with him.

He actually celebrated Mass with us. He was our provincial. We were in the same province. In fact, our province just sent greetings. This was never expected.

I was so excited—a big shock—because nobody expected this. Even me, as an Augustinian, I never expected him to go as far as he has today.

On Thursday, Archbishop Miller was celebrating Mass, and someone said, “There’s white smoke.” I whispered it to him before the Gospel.

After Mass I asked, “Who do you think it’ll be?”

He didn’t know, although we Filipinos thought Tagle’s name was strong. I noticed Tagle and Prevost were always sitting beside each other.

Then when he came out—Prevost! That’s our brother! He was our provincial in Canada. Later he became general. And when he was general, I became provincial of the Canadian province. He was the one who installed me—at Our Lady of Grace Monastery in Toronto. He was general when we started working with the federation.

We never expected one of us to be Pope! I by own mind he is still our brother Bob. I was so excited–shocked in a good way.

His big word was always “community.” We are of one mind and one heart, inspired by St. Augustine himself. That’s our contribution to the Church—not just as friars or Augustinians, but following the witness of St. Augustine, one of the greatest sinners who became one of the greatest theologians.

And Prevost—when we had meetings, he was always big on collaboration: “What can we do together?” Because together, we are stronger.

He assisted the process of the Canadian province being included into the Chicago province. The Canadian province was in decline and he said, instead of trying to survive on your own, come together and share your strengths—for the sake of the Church and the ministry.

Despite its growing popularity, I have been reluctant to comment on The Chosen, the television series produced by “Loaves and Fishes” that narrates the story of Jesus. 

In large measure, my delay has been due to the fact that, although the series is currently available for free and through some streaming services, it remains incomplete — only four of the proposed seven seasons are available. Season five is apparently about to be released. However, having viewed the first four seasons, I feel confident that anything I have to say will also apply to the remaining productions.

In fact, my reaction to what has been released is largely positive, though potential viewers should be aware of some caveats.

The first of these is that, unlike many previous attempts to portray the life of Christ on screen, The Chosen does not offer a clear narrative easily followed by those unfamiliar with the Gospels. Instead, the series plunges the viewer into the dramatization, often without identifying characters or explaining their role. Viewers are expected to piece together the story using what they already know of the Gospels.

Persistence pays off. This approach appears deliberate — the purpose of the series seems to be, above all, to ask the viewer to rethink the familiar.

The Chosen relies heavily on imagined interactions between characters. They are introduced almost haphazardly, and viewers gradually come to know them. This results in significant invention by the writers. For example, there are frequent, entirely imagined conversations among the disciples, often involving the kinds of questions many of us would want to ask. Characters given only brief mention in the Gospels are granted lengthy reflections on the events portrayed. Martha and Mary, for example, are given larger roles than one might expect. Thomas — he of doubting fame — is fleshed out in a way that logically builds on what little we know of him but gives him unusual prominence.

In other words, the point of the series is to flesh out the characters so that we can reconsider the import of the Gospels. The show raises the kinds of questions we might have asked if we had been there. This encourages deeper meditation on the Gospel stories. Because of this, many will welcome the fictional interplay among characters, the extension of minor incidents, and even moments of comedy.

For me, the biggest stumbling block is the portrayal of Jesus. I suppose this is inevitable, but the performance — for me, at least — lacks the gravitas and charisma that Jesus surely had to compel twelve men to follow him on a perilous journey. That said, I acknowledge that giving a convincing interpretation of Jesus is almost impossible.

As white smoke rose above the Sistine Chapel on Thursday morning, Archbishop J. Michael Miller, CSB, was at Sacred Heart Church in Ladner, celebrating Mass ahead of the March for Life in Victoria. 

Pastor Father Francis Galvan, OSA, leaned over after the first reading and quietly said: “There’s been white smoke.” 

“That gives about a 40-minute window before the new Pope is announced,” Archbishop Miller recalled. “And so I was on the way back to Vancouver — actually just at the Massey Tunnel — when I was following it on the media. Cardinal Prevost had been elected as Leo XIV.”

“It was certainly a surprise, frankly, to me,” he said. “Although he had been sort of in a wider group of so-called ‘papabile’, he wasn’t in the top five or six that the media had identified — and that I, too, had more or less identified as the top runners. But we were all surprised. The Holy Spirit had a different plan in mind.”

He reflected on the fact that someone from Chicago, in the United States of America, is now the successor of Peter. “It’s the first time anyone from North America has succeeded to the Petrine office. It’s amazing. It’s really a wonderful testimony that the electors went beyond political considerations — like American superpower status — simply to find the best man available, who in a sense happened to be an American.”

He has “enormous experience in Latin America, where he served as a bishop in Peru — not in his home country,” said Archbishop Miller. “He’s spent time in Rome, studied with the Dominicans, was rector of a seminary in Peru, taught canon law, and most recently he’s been a cardinal for a little less than two years. But in his position as head of the Dicastery for Bishops, he obviously enjoyed the trust of Pope Francis and of his fellow cardinals.”

The election was “rather quick,” he said. “This is only the second day — maybe the fourth or fifth ballot — which shows great unanimity. There was no major kind of blocking or power plays that endlessly delay the election.”

Archbishop Miller found the Pope’s chosen name particularly striking. “When I heard it — Leo XIV — I said, ‘Wow, what an interesting and bold choice of name.’ That’s really a throwback to a nineteenth-century Pope.

Leo XIII, from 1878 to 1903, “was sort of the father of modern Catholic social teaching. He revived interest in St. Thomas Aquinas at the end of the 19th century. He was a great devotee of Thomism. That fits very much with the profile of the new Pope,” he said.

When you think of holiness, what comes to mind? Is it a saint who has never stumbled? Does the idea of holiness feel out of reach when you’re grappling with your own brokenness or the weight of your sins? 

Today, Fr. Mike reminds us that the journey to holiness isn’t always a straight path. There are both good days and bad. Yet, despite our flaws and failures, God’s grace and mercy remain abundant, offering hope and renewal.