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'A year on, Paul would be well pleased. On seeing this full church, he would think, "I can still draw a crowd." On seeing the sanctuary, he would think, "They need one Jesuit and two diocesan priests to replace me."' Homily on the first anniversary of the death of Fr Paul Coleman SJ.
While we worked to find him a permanent place, he was put in a temporary one, far away from us. The decision-makers gave no thought to Mum's battling public transport and traffic, but it seemed like a nice place. We thought Dad was just being difficult when he begged us to take him home.
When we commit to asking friends, family, and coworkers about their wellbeing, we affirm that their safety matters, and their life is of value. This same ethic of care calls on the governments provide community supports which send a signal: every single life can get better.
Australians have been caught up in yet another data project whose design confounds even the most basic notions of privacy. My Health Record is the latest example of a system that lures us with proclaimed benefits and convenience, but enhances government power without balancing responsibilities to ensure citizens' civil liberties.
Australia's healthcare system reflects some of our best values, which surely demands we think about how we can make it work better. We need to ensure care is extended beyond our immediate communities, because we're all interconnected — including asylum seekers on Manus and Nauru.
Greece is a fire-prone country, and climate change has meant an extremely hot summer. In addition, the austerity forced on Greece during recent years has meant a reduced fire service, with not enough firefighters and no money to buy the latest equipment. Even so, it is heartening to see the reaction of the Greek public to the fires.
This sleight of hand from Albert sets a pattern, as the two go on to collude on an elaborate ruse, selling Edouard's designs for patriotic memorials that they never intend to build. Edouard, having plumbed the depths of opiate addiction, comes alive in the scam, a puckish schemer in a series of elaborate papier-mâché masks.
Our last walk together on a beach takes place on a balmy autumn day. The sun shining, the sea calm. While there is something beautiful about that scene and moment, I wonder, in retrospect, why I said, 'This is almost like being in heaven.' Unconscious, prophetic words, or simply an acknowledgement of perfection in my mind's eye?
Assisted suicide is not just a matter of being given a 'choice'. There is a whole system that would need to be created, with hospitals, doctors, nurses, lawyers, politicians and families all involved in facilitating this choice. Should we be enlisting the liberty of all these people to facilitate this choice?
Their resilience speaks of a strong Buddhist culture in which the boys were used to struggle, found meaning in attending to the welfare of others rather than their own, and drew strength from meditative practices that set their perilous predicament within a broader human horizon.
'In the Beginning Was the Word' opens with Angelina D'Costa, 'five years to the day after she stopped being a Catholic', entering a church, determined to confront a popular priest who is known to have covered up for another priest who abused children; only to be moved to submission by the familiar beauty of the Mass.
We share a love of poetry, having come to Gerard Manley Hopkins from opposite directions, her from religious ecstasy, me from the dark sonnets. In the 1980s we met, in a shelter for Aboriginal women in Collingwood. My next memory? Ursula introducing me to the granddaughter of Kelly's sweetheart, an old woman dying in a Melbourne hospital.
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