Good morning.

Thank you, Richard Bragdon, Speaker of the House Francis Scarpaleggia, Speaker of the Senate Raymonde Gagné, and distinguished guests.

I will begin with a short reading from the Gospel of Matthew 1:23.

“Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and they shall call him Immanuel,” which means “God with us”. 

This verse marks the fulfilment of the Prophet Isaiah, and the generosity of God incarnate.

I will organise my brief remarks around generosity in part because generosity is one of the distinguishing features of Canadians. Canadians take care of each other. 

I underscore this because we, as parliamentarians, are often called to channel the generosity of those we serve, while balancing it with fiscal realities and the principles of liberty.

The Christian tradition holds that generosity is not an original act. We give because we have first received. 

In the original Greek, charis precedes charisma. Grace before gift.

We parliamentarians are only in this room because we have received abundantly. Certainly, a determination that does not recognise obstacles. Probably, an intelligence that is restless. And, one hopes, discernment to see what truly matters.

And what of forgetfulness? Forgetfulness is not something one normally associates with politicians.

But Christ, in the Sermon on the Mount, teaches us that when we give, our left hand should not know what our right hand is doing.

Generosity, at its noblest, does not keep accounts.

Let our generosity be quiet and without witnesses.

And may it be reflected both personally and institutionally.

For generosity is also about being present. It’s giving not only to causes, but to people – to our families, our friends, our colleagues, and to one another.

It’s giving time.

Attention.

Mercy.

Giving time, attention, mercy can be our most lasting legacy.

I once heard a sermon in which the Reverend addressed different perspectives on immortality. Noting the presence of some secularly important churchgoers in the front pew, he challenged us over how many of their distinguished predecessors we could name.

He admitted that he could only manage seven of his own without cheating.

People who went to the horizon of their death feeling like they were the heroes of their own story.

Then, drawing on scripture, he set our transience in two opposing perspectives.

First, from Isaiah and St. Paul, there’s that of “let us eat and drink for tomorrow we die”.

If you set the horizon for your performance review at the moment you die, life is short and pressured, and that pressure degrades selflessness and the service of others.

However, if the horizon goes beyond the grave, and goes beyond for immortal amounts of time, and without all the corruption of death that blights the world, then there is a horizon that puts our lives here into the right perspective.

That’s a life not easily moved by the day-to-day “crises” of work. It’s a life of purpose that can achieve lasting benefit. A life that seeks to advance the trinity of distributive justice, equality of opportunity, and fairness across generations.

And even if those efforts fail, it is a life which recognises that in pursuing virtue we help build it in ourselves and in others.

We expand its practice and give it life.

I know there are some Stoics in the room, so I will close by channelling Marcus Aurelius: Arise for the work of humankind. Be humble. However grand you are today or may become tomorrow, you too will be forgotten. With the centuries, our names will become puzzles.

But our generosity can live on as examples that multiply through values in the service of others. A worthy past sedimented into a better future.

So may we give thanks for the generosity we have each received and which we are now called to pass on.