For the past few years, it has been my practice to speak to indigenous youth about the critical role that they will play in our common future.
“Friendship—I am allowing myself to be changed by you, and I trust that the change will be positive” (Sam Wells).
Stalks of corn are tied to the ends of every pew. Apples, parsnips, carrots and tomatoes are nestled in beds of colourful leaves on every windowsill.
People who keep up with the news will, by now, be familiar with the name James Foley.
Jesus is with his friends, sharing a meal: he gives thanks to God for bread and shares it with them; he gives thanks to God for wine and shares it with them.
The folder is labelled “Emails I didn’t send to the Principal.” It contains one unsent message: a rant about leprechauns and St. Patrick and, Why so much of the former and so little of the latter?
For this edition’s column, I wanted to, once again, share a poem from my friend, Fr. Ewan MacPherson
This was an exciting summer for my family. There was the restful time away on a quiet island, visits with family and outdoor meals with friends. Among the highlights of these summer months, one stands out: the July 15 groundbreaking ceremony for our new home.
A little boy saw somebody walking two dachshunds on a leash. He asked his mother, “Is that person walking two dogs shaped like wieners, or two wieners that look like dogs?” His mother, seeing the dachshunds in a new light, answered, “Well, dear, I guess it’s just a pair-o-dachs.”
The oldest surviving copy of The Dominion Churchman—now called the Anglican Journal—dates back to Aug. 22, 1878.