Personalism

In contrast to what we see around us, as well as within ourselves, stands St. Thomas Aquinas' doctrine of the Common Good, a vision of a society where the good of each member is bound to the good of the whole in the service of God. To this end, we advocate:

Personalism, A philosophy which regards the freedom and dignity of each person as the basis, focus, and goal of all metaphysics and morals. In following such wisdom, we move away from a self-centered individualism toward the good of the other. This is to be done by taking personal responsibility for changing conditions, rather than looking to the state or other institutions to provide impersonal "charity." We pray for a church renewed by this philosphy and for a time when all those who feel excluded from participation are welcomed with love, drawn by the gentle personalism that Jesus taught.

50 years ago, Steve Truscot was found guilty of the murder of Lynn Harper. He was sentenced to death. A peom was written by a young journalist. The result of which was not only the commuting of his death sentence, but that of the death sentence in Canada as a whole. It is included here as I ask whether indeed, having been acquited, Steve Truscot was guilty as all. The Supreme Court of Ontario, in a recent decision, declared that the original sentencing was a "gross miscarriage of justice." I wonder, if the refusal to offer Steven a new trial, in which he might be found "not guilty" is simply the state "providing an impersonal charity." I pray for a church wherein those who feel excluded from participation are welcomed in, in love; drawn in by the gentle shepherd himself.

REQUIEM FOR A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD
byPierre Berton
In Goderich townThe Sun abates. December is coming And everyone waits:In a small, dark room On a small, hard bed Lies a small, pale boyWho is not quite dead.
The cell is lonely. The cell is cold. October is young, But the boy is old; Too old to cringe. And too old to cry, Though young --But never too young to die.
It's true enoughThat we cannot brag Of a national anthem Or a national flag And though our VisionIs still in doubt At last we've something to boast about:We've a national lawIn the name of the QueenTo hang a childWho is just fourteen.
The law is clear:It says we must And in this countryThe law is just Sing heigh! Sing ho! For justice blind Makes no distinction Of any kind;Makes no allowances for sex or years, A judge's feelings, a mother's tears; Makes no allowances for age or youth Just eye for eye and tooth for tooth, Tooth for tooth and eye for eye:A child does murder; A child must die.
Don't fret ... don't worry ...No need to cry We'll only pretend he's going to die; We're going to reprieve him Bye and bye.
We're going to reprieve him(We always do),But it wouldn't be fairIf we told him, too So we'll keep the secret As long as we can And hope that he'll take it Like a man.
And when we've told him It's just "pretend"And he won't be strung At a noose's end,We'll send him away And, like as not Put him in prison And let him rot.
The jury said "mercy"And we agree --O, merciful jury: You and me.
Oh death can come And death can go Some deaths are sudden And some are slow;In a small cold cell In October mild Death comes each day To a frightened child.
So muffle the drums and beat them slow,Mute the strings and play them low, Sing a lament and sing it well,But not for the boy in the cold, dark cell,Not for the parents, trembling-lipped,Not for the judge who followed the script;Save your prayers for the righteous ghoulsIn that Higher Court who write the rules For judge and jury and hangman too: The Court composed of me and you.
In Goderich townThe trees turn redThe limbs go bare As their leave are bled And the days tick by As the sky turns lead For the small, scared boy On the small, stark bed A fourteen-year-old Who is not quite dead.