A friend contacted me a few days ago incensed by Conservative Leader Erin O’Toole banishing Ontario MP Derek Sloan from the party in mid-January.

The fate forced upon the 10-bed Irene Thomas Hospice this month is symptomatic of Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD) evolving from political maleficence to spiritual malignancy.

In the midst of the Christmas season, Dan Cere sees signs of Easter in the Archdiocese of Montreal.

The fact Trista Hope’s name isn’t really Trista Hope adds volumes to the recent 276-page Capriolo report into the catastrophic botching of priestly sex offender Brian Boucher’s case.

Truer words have never been spoken than Cardinal Gérald Cyprien Lacroix’s methodical castigation of the Quebec government failure to consult the province’s religious believers on COVID-19 planning.

A mad push appears to be on to get the federal government’s MAiD legislation out of committee and into the House of Commons for rapid passage.

The old saw says nothing focuses the mind like the prospect of being hanged in the morning. I can personally attest that having a child living in a country of double beheadings runs a very close second.

It’s been clear to me for nearing a decade that the vast majority of my fellow journalistic worker bees have drunk the Kool-Aid on MAiD.

It doesn’t diminish Pope Francis’ message on the urgency of climate change action to wish he had put a little less of the Church’s faith on what is commonly meant by “science” today.

After effectively dying briefly three weeks ago, I’ve been thinking whether my survival really means God wants me to remain on Earth for a while yet.