As predictably as rain falling in Dublin, Irish pro-abortion stalwarts are already agitating for so-called exclusion zones around health facilities where the life-ending procedure is performed.

If stereotypes are made to be deflated, Amanda Achtman is a young woman who carries a suitcase full of needles and hat pins.

Last summer, Ottawa constitutional lawyer Albertos Polizogopoulos and I were on Ottawa’s Sparks Street when we encountered a sign warning we were entering an abortion safe-access zone.

When Montreal’s English Speaking Catholic Council hosted a talk on faith and immigration the quintessential church hall basement of St. Kevin’s Parish on Côte-Des-Neiges Road was an obvious choice.

In a fine interview following the recent synagogue killings in Pittsburgh, Ottawa’s Rabbi Reuven Bulka offered wisdom that went far beyond the specific act of terrible bloodshed. 

The new Quebec government’s proposed assault on religious freedom by barring public wearing of overt faith markers is worrisome enough.

From a pessimistic perspective, a McGill University conference marking 30 years since the Morgentaler decision might seem another predictable festival of defensive triumphalism from pro-choice warriors.

The phrases “hot ticket” and “religious freedom forum” appear only infrequently in the same sentence, especially on Parliament Hill where the operative word is secularism, secularism and more secularism.

Earlier this summer, I came as close as I’ve ever come to proverbially setting my hair on fire over the unfolding catastrophe seeming to cripple the Church. And that was before the infamous j’accuse letter from Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò alleging Pope Francis was well aware of the sexual scandal roiling around former cardinal Theodore McCarrick.

Pope Francis famously asserted his preference for a Church that is “bruised, hurting, dirty” and has the mud of the street on her shoes.