Pastoral hugs and headbutts; Hitting the Top 100 on Substack; Same-day MAiD
3 Things this week and the Easter poem "Runners"
He is risen! Happy Easter, readers of Things I Wrote Down. Truly the best day of the year! Death couldn’t hold him. And it can’t hold us, either.
I hope you experience much joy as you reflect on the terrifying, startling, unbelievable, wonderful, hope-inspiring reality of the cross and the empty tomb.
Thanks for spending part of your Easter weekend with TIWD. Here are three things that stood out this week on the web and my Easter poem.
Pastoral hugs and headbutts
I sent this to my pastor the minute I saw it and have watched it on repeat. It's one of those hilarious What I thought it was like/ What it's actually like memes.
The headbutt at the end looks so deadly. I don’t know who captures this type of content and how people find it, but boy does it make one laugh, ache, and think.
If you go to your Easter Sunday service today, hug your pastor or your priest.
Hitting the Top 100 on Substack
Well, this was not on my 2025 Bingo Card! This weekend my newsletter hit the Top 100 on Substack’s Faith and Spirituality Chart.
I landed at #94.
You know what they say, 94th is the 93rd loser. But I’m only seeing this as a win. My jaw sort of hit the floor when I saw the writers I’m sharing the list with.
TBH, I didn’t know there was such a thing until I got the surprise notification. And now it seems like the only thing that matters in my writing life 😂.
I jest. I don’t know how it happened. But I guess I’m doing something right.
Actually, I do know one thing, though. It was readers like you who made that happen. So, thanks for reading.
Same-day MAiD
As Canadians prepare to go to the polls on April 28, I've been disappointed there's been so little discussion about medical assistance in dying (MAiD), which I've written about extensively (for example here and here). Also known as doctor assisted suicide, the procedure accounts for 1 in 20 deaths in Canada; by end of 2025 over 70,000 Canadians will have died at the hands of their doctors since 2016.
Talk about a medical system that needs redemption this Easter.
When conservative leader Pierre Poilievre answered a question this week suggesting he wouldn't change a thing, I was surprised (his party has been the main resistance to expansion). Upon hearing the response I went on a bit of a (respectful) X rampage (👈🏻 read the posts).
I was grateful to see this article this week about same-day euthanasia and how it sounds another alarm about a MAiD regime gone wild.
The startling article is written by Meagan Gillmore who we featured in our documentary series MAiD in Canada (which you can watch it free on UnveilTV).
Gillmore’s reporting reveals the realities of same-day MAiD being granted by assessors: a patient in an altered state of consciousness; over Zoom; an individual unable to speak but who could only “nod” consent to a last-minute assessor; a patient who indicated they didn’t want to be euthanized but whose husband was experiencing caregiver burnout, and was dead that very day).
These words by Dr. Ramona Coelho (a family doctor in London, Ontario who was also featured in our docuseries) are chilling: “I see MAiD as a further failure of the government. They can’t fix their [health-care] system. They’re offering an easy way out, but it’s because they’re not fixing their system.”
It’s another tough one to read. But worthwhile and important.
A poem
I write poems on special occasions. This year I quipped my Easter poem while I was flying home from a trip. I often get inspired when I’m sitting above the clouds. My lip trembled as I wrote this personal poem. I shared it as my Thursday article, and am sharing it again here.
I hope it blesses you.
Runners
When my father died
in the worst way at the
worst time, when the world shut down
got so scared and
angry, they snuck me into the hospital so
I could see him: the miracle
I got not the miracle
we needed
I think of that now
as we prepare to bury the Lord
this Easter
to relive all grief
How, from the moment the branch is
placed in my hand on Palm Sunday
waving it from the pews where
we imagine the triumphal entry and its
unfamiliar joys, the sleepy
prayers in the garden
sham trial and flogging
the nail-pierced body and the blood
I little know what to do
We know how to
crucify but I don't know how to
worship
If Jesus stepped into the room right now
would we lay down our coats, wave a
leafy frond
raise our hands and hopes
with welcome?
Feeble in both
grief and praise
the stone still rolls away
sets us free from mortal
conundrum
I buried dad with his running shoes
there was still
snow on the ground and
I didn't want his feet to get
cold in all the excitement
of a resurrection
This hesitance
as we walk toward Easter
is not a lack of reverence
or love, but trepidation
hope
at what might take place
as we step toward the
tomb
© 2025 Andrew Kooman