Celebrating Two Paths to Nationhood

Canada Day is celebrated every year on July 1st to commemorate the birth of Canada as a country. It marks the day in 1867 when the British North America Act came into effect, joining three colonies — Province of Canada (which became Ontario and Quebec), New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia — into a new federation called the Dominion of Canada. This event is known as Confederation.

Originally called Dominion Day, July 1st was a day to recognize Canada’s creation and the beginning of its journey toward becoming a self-governing nation. Over time, Canada continued to grow, with new provinces and territories joining Confederation and the country developing its own identity.

In 1982, the holiday was officially renamed Canada Day when the Canada Act 1982 brought Canada’s Constitution fully under Canadian control.

Today, Canada Day is a time to celebrate the country’s history, diversity, and shared values. It is marked by ceremonies, citizenship celebrations, concerts, community gatherings, fireworks, and expressions of pride in being Canadian.

At the same time, many Canadians use the day as an opportunity for reflection and reconciliation, recognizing that Canada’s history includes the experiences and contributions of First Nations peoples, Inuit, and Métis peoples, as well as the challenges created by colonization and past injustices.

Some people celebrate this day by attending a Pow Wow in recognition of our shared responsibility to forge a country mindful of its responsibility to create harmonious relationships with the Indigenous peoples of this land.

Canada Day is celebrated close to July 4th (Independence Day in the United States) because the two dates come from two separate historical events that happened around the same time period, not because one was created in relation to the other.

So, while the celebrations happen only three days apart, they represent different paths to nationhood: one through revolution and independence, the other through federation and political evolution.

On July 1st, I will proudly sing “O Canada, Glorious and Free” and “we stand on Guard for thee”, for it is so necessary in these days of chaos and land grabbing, to be ever vigilant and mindful that we ARE two independent nations with common values and rich connections that bring us together as having the potential of being true neighbours.

-Sister Kathleen Lichti, csj

image: Hermes Rivera/Hudson Thomas courtesy of Unsplash

Good Friday: A Different Way of Seeing

Why Do We Call Good Friday “Good”? A Different Way of Seeing?

Every year, the question returns: If Good Friday remembers the suffering and death of Jesus, what exactly makes it “good”?

A quick search offers the traditional answer—Christians believe Jesus’ death was a necessary sacrifice that brought salvation, forgiveness, and reconciliation. It is called “good” because it leads to the hope of Easter.

And yet, for some, that explanation raises a deeper and more uncomfortable question: Does a loving God really require the death of a son?

For me, that idea doesn’t sit easily. A God who gives life, who nurtures and loves unconditionally—would that same God desire suffering and death? It’s hard to reconcile those images.

This question isn’t just theological—it’s deeply human. I think of my own family. When my brother died in a car accident at sixteen, my parents certainly didn’t see any “necessity” in his death. They grieved the loss of a vibrant life, full of promise and goodness. Love does not will loss. Love longs for life.

So perhaps Good Friday invites us to look again—not at a required sacrifice, but at a profound tragedy.

It is the day we remember the death of a man who lived with a bold vision: a world where love, justice, and harmony were possible. Jesus spent his life embodying that vision—healing, forgiving, including, and proclaiming a deep and unwavering love of God. And for living that way, he was rejected.

“He came to his own, and his own did not accept him.” (John 1:11)

Good Friday, then, becomes not a celebration of suffering, but a moment of honest grief. A recognition of what happens when love confronts fear, when truth meets resistance, when goodness is misunderstood.

And yet—even in his dying, Jesus revealed something extraordinary. Not vengeance. Not despair. But forgiveness:

“Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing.”

“Today you will be with me in paradise.”

In these final words, we see the heart of His life’s message. Not that suffering is required—but that love remains possible, even in suffering. That forgiveness can rise, even in the face of violence.

Perhaps that is where the “good” begins to emerge.

Not in the death itself, but in the way He lived—and the way He died. A gentle life ended by violence. A life of love that refused to become hate, even at the end.

Good Friday may not be “good” in the way we often define it. But it is true. It reveals both the worst and the best of humanity. And it leaves us with a calling:

To live as He lived.
To love as He loved.
To become, in our own imperfect ways, embodiments of that same compassion and courage.

Maybe the only “necessity” in Good Friday is this stark contrast—between a life rooted in love and a death marked by violence.

And in that contrast, we are invited to choose again what kind of world we will help create.

-Sister Kathleen Lichti, CSJ

Image: Wim van 't Einde/Unsplash

St. Joseph's Day

Yes, he was a simple carpenter from Nazareth. He was a man in love with a young woman, Mary of Nazareth, and together they dreamed of building a life.

What might those dreams have been? Perhaps that his small carpenter’s shop would provide for their needs, while Mary’s hope, in time, would be to bring forth children who would continue the ancestral line of David. Like many young couples, they likely imagined an ordinary life—quiet, faithful, and rooted in their community.

Little did they know that everything would change. Mary was already with child.

One can only imagine what went through Joseph’s mind when he learned of Mary’s pregnancy. In their culture, a woman found to be pregnant outside of marriage faced the harshest consequences—stoning to death. The situation must have filled Joseph with anguish. Was he confused? Did he question Mary’s faithfulness? Such questions would be natural under ordinary circumstances. Yet these were anything but ordinary circumstances.

Matthew’s Gospel tells us that Joseph was deeply troubled:
“Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.” (Matthew 1:19)

Joseph was a man of honour. Even in his turmoil, he sought a way to protect Mary.

image: Josh Applegate / Unsplash

Then Matthew recounts what happened next:
“Just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife…’” (Matthew 1:20)

Mary’s unconditional “fiat”—her yes to God—opened the way for Joseph to trust as well. Listening to the message carried in his dream, he followed where God was leading. Together they set out on a journey that would be filled with uncertainty and trust.

Later, amid the political turmoil of King Herod’s reign, Joseph again listened to the guidance of dreams. Warned of danger, he protected his family and fled. When it became unsafe to return to Bethlehem because Herod’s son Archelaus ruled Judea, Joseph was once again guided in a dream. He turned toward Galilee and settled in the small town of Nazareth.

Joseph was a man who trusted God’s quiet guidance.

Today, we see the spirit of Joseph alive in those who welcome the stranger, the unwanted, the unrecognized, and the displaced. In their compassion and courage, they reflect the inclusive spirit of Jesus—a spirit that refuses to treat anyone as a stranger.

We give thanks for Joseph, patron of the universal Church, and for the thousands of Sisters of St. Joseph who claim him as their patron. Like Joseph, they continue to listen for God’s voice in the dreams and uncertainties of our time, courageously moving into the unknown territories of today.

-Sister Kathleen Lichti, CSJ

Feast and Famine

To speak of feasting in these days of famine—especially in war-torn lands—can be a stark reminder of the disparity God calls us to address. Yet, feasting can be a sacred act—an offering of gratitude for the blessings we’ve been given and a call to celebrate. Shrove Tuesday calls us to gather in community, to enjoy the richness of food and fellowship not as indulgence, but as gratitude—using what we have with humility as we prepare for the reflective season of Lent. Feasting becomes a way to remember how deeply we’ve been blessed, and how those blessings can overflow toward neighbors near and far who live with far less.

This day also invites us to rediscover simple joys together—sharing meals, laughter, games, or quiet companionship. As we reflect on our own abundance, we’re gently asked: how might we share from what we have, and how might our feasting open our hearts to those who hunger?

Shrove Tuesday is also “pancake day” when in the Christian tradition, rich foods like eggs sugar and butter are used up by making pancakes.

So let us join the dance of feast and famine, being very mindful of where we dance, why we do so, how we dance and with whom we partner.

WHERE this might happen: in a neighbourhood, in a church gathering, in homes.

WHY we dance: to very intentionally celebrate the many gifts we have been given.

HOW might we dance? We might just decide to loiter with intent with someone with whom we have not spent time in a long while.

With whom might we dance? It might be with a grandchild playing a child’s game or an elderly person playing an elderly person’s game or it might be just talking with someone and listening to their story.

-Sister Kathleen Lichti, CSJ

Image: Milana Burlo @milanana444/Calum Lewis @calumlewisUnsplash

Women's Equality Day

Women’s Equality Day is a Statutory Holiday in the United States, to celebrate the ratification of the 19th amendment for women to vote and is celebrated on August 26th of each year.

In Canada it is also significant in marking milestones like women gaining the right to vote and hold office in 1918, and the Persons Case in which the British Privy Council in 1929 ruled that women were indeed persons under Canadian law and could be appointed to the Senate. This decision overturned a previous ruling by the Supreme Court of Canada and paved the way for women's increased participation in public and political life. 

I would just invite the reader to consider a few things about the Persons Case: if indeed we agree that women are also persons, then why are they treated differently in ordinary conversation?  If we truly believe what the Persons Case is stating, and which, by the way, was hard won by 5 women from Alberta, then I think we might consider the use of language referring to women as a “teaching moment” to the upcoming generation of young leaders.   

For example, phrases used by many waitresses or waiters will most often refer to women as “you guys”, “honey”, “dearie”.  This, to me if used referring to mature young or especially elderly women, is meant in good faith, but I would suggest there is an unconscious bias to not considering women as equal to men in the realm of personhood. 

The treatment of women in our Western Culture, leaves room for improvement which WE have the power and hopefully the will, to make.

For example, for waiters/waitresses, other words more appropriately used could be: “how may I help you ladies?” OR “Are you folks ready to place your orders?”.  In my opinion, the common unconscious use of “girls” in relating to mature women is so inappropriate.

I respectfully suggest that perhaps on this August 26th, might we intentionally use appropriate respectful language that exhibits an awareness of the real dignity of womanhood?

-Sister Kathleen Lichti, CSJ