01 Autumn means football. It seems unpatriotic to prefer football over hockey. When I was younger, I followed hockey rather more closely, but keeping up with an 82- game season and playoffs that bump up against St- Jean-Baptiste makes the National Hockey League a rather demanding recreation.

There was no conscious decision to switch from hockey to football, but over time the rhythms of football became more appealing. Twelve seasons as chaplain of the Queen's University Golden Gaels football club have no doubt influenced my migration. At eight games, the Ontario college season makes modest demands on time and attention while repaying that attention as every game is critical. (The Canadian Football League has gone the other direction, with 18 games to eliminate three of nine teams from the playoffs; consequently, few games are significant.)

Then there is baseball, which at press time was capturing national attention as the Blue Jays made their pennant run. At 162 games, one played almost every day, following baseball closely is not so much a recreation as an occupation. Football is just right. It leaves summer free for a leisurely retreat from the rigours of common life and gives a good reason to get outdoors in the fall, which is the loveliest of all seasons. It leaves you alone in time for the darkest days of winter, when hibernation is desired. Football respects the seasonal rhythms of life.

02 Sunday NFL Countdown, one of the premier pre-game shows, began its new season with this promotional introduction: "The week has seven days. Sunday is not one of them." What that means, if it means anything at all, is not clear. It could just be nonsense. Television promos are a rather fluid literary genre. The meaning seemed to be that devotion to football could not be limited to Sunday alone but had to dominate every moment of the entire week. It could be taken another way though. If Sunday means the Lord's Day — the Sabbath — then it might well be true that our culture no longer counts Sunday as one of the days of the week. Perhaps football day is the new Sabbath, which would be a fitting holy day for a culture whose greatest worship is reserved for recreation and commerce, a combination that the NFL serves up better than anyone. The grand spectacle of men engaged in violent games in large stadiums has to prick the historically informed Christian conscience. Are we watching in great numbers our own gladiators in latter-day colosseums? In a decadent culture, the question does arise.

03 Football seems given to Catholic metaphors, the most famous of which is the Hail Mary pass. The losing team, with seconds left in the game, sends its receivers far down the field. The quarterback heaves a mighty throw to everyone and no one in particular, hoping against hope that somehow one of his men will catch the ball for a touchdown. The American college football season — far more exciting than professional football, by the way — opened this year with Brigham Young University in just such a situation against Nebraska. In fact, BYU had lost its star quarterback to injury earlier in the game, so the last-second play was quarterbacked by the backup, Tanner Mangum. He heaved a mighty heave and sent the ball toward the goal line, where it was… caught for a touchdown! Victory for BYU! (The next week, Mangum did it against powerhouse Boise State. Two Hail Marys in two weeks: absolutely astonishing.) The matter becomes one of theological interest, rather than just football strategy. Can a Mormon team throw a Hail Mary? Tanner Mangum is not just at BYU for football; he returned just this past summer from his Mormon missionary service, for which he delayed college football. He is serious about his faith. What can a Mormon do? The Hail Mary is an essential part of football. But the Hail Mary is indisputably Catholic. Did Mangum heave it up there and call it an Angel Moroni instead?

04 How did Jesus' mother get herself a football play? The story goes back to another great quarterback who put service before football. Roger Staubach was the most outstanding player in college football, winning the Heisman trophy in 1963 while playing for Navy. Drafted by the Dallas Cowboys, he completed his naval service first, including a tour in Vietnam, before becoming a 27-year-old rookie in 1969. One of the great quarterbacks of his time,

Staubach was famous for his last-minute comebacks. In a 1975 playoff game against the Minnesota Vikings, the Cowboys were trailing 14-10, with time running out. Staubach heaved the mighty heave and found Drew Pearson 50 yards downfield. Asked afterwards about his thinking, Staubach explained that "I just closed my eyes and said a Hail Mary." Truth be told, even the most rapid-fire devotee could not get the entire Hail Mary said in the few seconds the ball is in flight; but for football purposes, the first words apparently suffice. And ever since, the Hail Mary has been said at football games by Catholics and non- Catholics alike.

05 This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Hail Mary's arrival in football. In the four decades since, Cowboy quarterbacks have been known for all sorts of last minute heroics, but this year a new Cowboy record was set. Cowboy quarterback Tony Romo came from behind to defeat the New York Giants on September 13, throwing a touchdown pass with only 7 seconds left. Time enough indeed to pray a Hail Mary.

06 "Does God really care about Notre Dame football?" Such was the question put to Lou Holtz, a serious Catholic and head coach at "Our Lady's university" in the 1980s. "Of course God doesn't care whether Notre Dame wins," Holtz replied. "But His mother sure does!"

07 Football is big at Queen's University, which, as I never tire of pointing out, has had a team for longer than Notre Dame. The two universities were both founded in the mid-19th century but intercollegiate football came to Queen's earlier. Queen's is not quite as flush as Notre Dame, with its multi-billion dollar endowment, so the principal worries about capital costs and deferred maintenance. In the latest fundraising solicitation, er, alumni magazine, Daniel Woolf laments the cost of its buildings. "Ironically, some of our most problematic buildings are not our oldest ones," he writes. "In particular, many that were built in the 1960s or '70s have as many problems as those… built over a century ago. By contrast, some very old buildings… are fully capable of being refitted and turned to modern needs." University principals spend far more of their time on buildings than the thinking that goes on within them, but Principal Woolf might consider his buildings a metaphor for the ideas that animate the classrooms of a university, to say nothing of the priorities of the administration. Some ideas from the 1960s and '70s, like the buildings of their era, are both horribly ugly and shoddily built. The sturdy older ideas, having stood the test of time, are more than applicable to the issues of the day.

08 The Canadian Football League plays all summer — which is contrary to nature, for football is meant to begin on the liturgical feast of Labour Day, when schools and universities resume their work. Calgary traditionally hosts Edmonton on that day; Toronto travels to Hamilton; and Winnipeg plays in Saskatchewan. Later that week a rematch is staged with hosting duties reversed. Winnipeg hosting Saskatchewan for the rematch is called the "Banjo Bowl" — a name arising from a banjo-themed insult once made by a Blue Bomber about Roughrider fans. The Banjo Bowl is officially sponsored by Manitoba Liquor and Lotteries, the Crown corporation that gets fat on Manitoba's drinking and gambling. Signs of civilization's decline are not limited to the American gridiron.

09 Perhaps you have seen the public service announcements from the branches of government that do not promote drinking? A recent one advises making a plan to get home after a night of drunkenness — a friend, the bus, a taxi. The alternatives, the ad warns, are riding in a police cruiser, an ambulance or a hearse. True enough, but notable that there is no mention that one should avoid impaired driving because of the danger to others. Selfishness in the service of safety is still selfish.

10 The Ontario government is running advertisements for its new sex ed curriculum, which came into effect this new school year. Widely criticized for teaching even young children all manner of detailed sexual information, but having nothing at all to say about love, the State is forcefully imposing its values upon Ontario families. The government argues that it is just providing neutral information today's students need. Perhaps if it was called the Ministry of Information instead of the Ministry of Education that would be more plausible, but only totalitarian states have ministries of information. Education necessarily involves some ideal or purpose to which end the education is being offered, and education in matters sexual cannot avoid giving at least an implicit answer to what the ideal and the purpose of sexual activity is. There is not much implicit about the sex ed curriculum. So what ideal is being proposed to Ontario children about sex? The ads tell us that children have questions, and the sex ed curriculum has the answers to keep them "safe." Safety is an odd goal. But today safety is rapidly becoming our society's greatest value. Perhaps that's not surprising for a culture drenched in pornography. The problem with the Ontario sex ed curriculum is not so much that it describes sexual practices but that it teaches that sex is something dangerous rather than adventurous; a matter of keeping safe rather than striving for the highest goals. Without love and honour and virtue, what is left but safety? Making love can be dangerous, for it is adventure that touches the heart and commits the soul. Keeping safe has a much a lower goal, if any at all. It is unworthy of our students. The old virtue that governed sex was chastity. The new virtue is safety. Explicit though it is, the new sex ed curriculum is essentially boring.

11 Sex and love and babies are fraught things. A front page story in the National Post tells us about Kari Smith of Nova Scotia, who hired out her womb to an overseas couple. The couple even shared Smith's "love of craft beer," so what could go wrong? The surrogacy proceeded and Smith found herself carrying three babies. The couple demanded that Smith abort one; the island nation where they lived did not allow non-citizens to bring in more than two children. Smith wanted no such thing but reluctantly agreed. So one child was aborted, then another miscarried. It was "a traumatic experience," which would certainly be understating it. Even the hiring couple "wept." The striking headline on the story alerted readers that Canadian "carriers" were facing "unexpected moral dilemmas." The Smith case "underlines the moral dilemmas surrogacy can unexpectedly impose on women who lend out their wombs."

What exactly is unexpected? Hiring a woman to use her womb, recklessly implanting multiple embryos, demanding the selective abortion of one — how can any of these be thought to be "unexpected" moral dilemmas? The whole business of making childbirth a business is a moral dilemma. The real issue is not that these dilemmas are unexpected, but that they exist, for so many people, at all.

12 Quebec's government announced in September that it, too, would be following Ontario's example in imposing a new sex ed curriculum on its students. Unlike Ontario, though, it will not permit parents to withdraw their students from the new course. The tolerance of the distinct society goes only so far, as we saw in the Loyola case. The Supreme Court decided in that case that Quebec could not deny Loyola the exemption it had applied for. Quebec has learned. When the new sex-ed curriculum is unveiled, no exemptions will be allowed.

13 Quebec has been more preoccupied with the end of life than the beginning lately, having introduced its own version of legalized euthanasia last year. The Supreme Court's decision this year in Carter to legalize assisted suicide has encouraged Quebec to grease the skids onward, distributing death guides to its doctors. "Dr. Yves Robert, secretary of the Collège des médecins du Québec, said the regulatory body has developed a guide that shows doctors how to end a patient's life with sequential injections of three medications: a sedative such as a benzodiazepine to relieve anxiety, a barbiturate or similar drug to induce a coma, and finally a neuromuscular block, which stops the heart and respiration. The step-bystep instructions also tell doctors what dosages of the medications to use, where to inject the drugs and what to do should complications such as vomiting or an allergic reaction occur." What do you do about an allergic reaction when you are trying to kill someone? Treat it? Exacerbate it? That's why you need a handy guide. There are lots of things to work out when setting up the machinery of death, but Dr. Robert is clear about one thing: "We insist on the fact that this is a medical act. Others may help, but the law authorizes only physicians to do the procedure." The one thing the handy death-by-doctor guide surely does not include is the Hippocratic oath.

14 Dr. Yves Robert is full of advice for his fellow Quebec physicians. After administering the heart-stopping cocktail of drugs: how to fill out the death certificate. Lethal injection? Death by physician? Medical aid in dying, as the preferred terminology of the government puts it? Mais non… Dr. Robert advises that the "underlying pathology" be written on the death certificate. After all, the patient may not want his family and friends to know what happened in his last moments. Perhaps he is keen that his insurance company not know. As for the truth, a little lie on the death certificate seems a suitable way to record the bigger lies that physicians are for death instead of life and that medicine is employed to kill not to cure.

15 Medicine still remains a noble profession, with talented doctors putting their skills at the service of the dignity of the human person. One thinks of Médecins sans frontières (Doctors Without Borders), which sends doctors into desperate situations the world over, winning it a Nobel Peace Prize in 1999. The idea of sending urgently needed professionals overseas into emergency situations has inspired Lawyers Without Borders, Reporters Without Borders, Veterinarians Without Borders. There is no Pastry Chefs Without Borders, but you get the idea. Even good things can be taken too far though. This past July, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, in conjunction with the United Nations Development Programme, launched Tax Inspectors Without Borders. The launch took place in Addis Ababa, so apparently the Ethiopian exchequer thinks it might benefit from the expertise of the enormous tax collection bureaucracies of the rich countries. Unlike the doctors, this does not appear to be a philanthropic initiative, with large-hearted tax inspectors swooping down on streams of refugees to ensure that they have correctly completed Schedule C of form T-17, claiming their rightful credit for the emergency expatriation allowance. From the affluent world, it would appear to be dubious that the developing world needs more taxation, but if you are running a corrupt, unaccountable government given to backing bureaucratic orders with threats and violence, perhaps a few inspectors from the American Internal Revenue Service is exactly what you need.

16 Co-operative tax collection is not really the hot issue, if one might pardon the expression, on the global bureaucratic scene this year. Climate change is the trendiest of subjects, and in December there are high hopes for a treaty to make the climate stop changing, or to change back. But waiting around for government action is never a good bet, so private companies are forging ahead. LEGO announced plans to build a better brick, getting away from petroplastics over the next decade or so. It hopes to make its bricks out of cornstarch or soybeans (moose hide for the Canadian version?) or other natural bio-products. If it is successful, your children's LEGO will be more enviro-friendly than a Quebec doctor's death kit. It would be a safe bet that LEGO will get their biodegradable bricks to market before the international bureaucratic class changes the weather.

17 Pope Francis, as we have covered in Convivium, is enthusiastically aboard the climate change express, hoping that the Paris conference this December does what the Kyoto Protocol failed to do. The progressives of the climate change lobby, often at odds with the Pope on other matters, are giddy with excitement. Rolling Stone for one, gushing about the papal trip to the United States in light of climate change politics and other political causes, tells us that "during the two and a half years of his papacy, the unscripted, often radical words and actions of the Pope have thrilled believers and nonbelievers alike, on a scale no contemporary religious leader other than the Dalai Lama has approached." Not sure about the theological orientation of Rolling Stone, but I get the sense that comparing the Holy Father to the Dalai Lama is intended to be the highest possible compliment. I am a great admirer of the Dalai Lama and think that on China he is rather wiser than most Catholic leadership, but his office is on a different order of magnitude than the Pope. I do not actually know what the Dalai Lama thinks about climate change; but if he is in fact the saffron standard for Rolling Stone, I suppose I could guess.