Inspired by Our Sisters: Blessed Marguerite Rutan

By Sr. Meg Kymes

This month, my community, the Daughters of Charity celebrate the feast of Blessed Marguerite Rutan.  Blessed Marguerite was born in 1734 in the Lorraine region of France.  Her parents were hardworking, holy people who inspired Marguerite by their example.  When she was 18 years old, she asked to enter the Daughters of Charity in Paris, France and was accepted.  At 21, after joining the Daughters, she was sent to work in the Daughters’ hospital in Dax, France.  In addition to caring for the sick, she also reached out to street children and young pregnant women who had been abandoned, as well as distributed food and alms to families in need of resources.  She remained in Dax for the next 42 years. 

In 1789, when the French Revolution broke out, there was great persecution against members of the Church.  The Daughters were no exception to those persecutions.  Their homes, schools, and hospitals were taken over by soldiers as bunkers and field hospitals.  In 1792, the military officials falsely accused Marguerite and her fellow Daughters of robbery.  The following year, she was sent to prison and sentenced to death.  In April of 1794 she was executed.  In 2011, she was proclaimed, Blessed Marguerite.

Today, I see Blessed Marguerite as an example for us, in a day when many Christians are persecuted because of their faith.  I see her as an example for all people who are striving to care for those who are living in poverty in the face of persecution.  When Christians in the Middle East, Nigeria, and so many other areas of the world are being murdered, Blessed Marguerite can be an example of courage and strength for these people. 

Currently, many of my fellow Daughters of Charity are in these areas ministering to all people who are living in violence.  I am confident that they pray to Blessed Marguerite for the people they minister to and with.  Blessed Marguerite, pray for us! 

Thumbs Up to Service

By Sr. Cecilia Harriendorf

I was in Guatemala City, spending an overnight with the Daughters of Charity, who have served in Guatemala for the past 150 years.  They have a huge, block square complex, operate two hospitals, a school (grades one through high school) and provide a wide range of social services.

Peeking into a room, I saw what looked like an empty cafeteria.  I asked a few school girls walking by if I could buy a soda there.  They said no, but pointed me in the direction of a tiny store opposite the school.  After satisfying my thirst, I returned to the Daughters' complex and again inquired about the cafeteria.  This facility, it turns out, is a "Cocina de Probres" - a soup kitchen for poor people which serves dinner everyday at noon.

From time-to-time, I visit Guatemala City with two young women who are postulants with the New York Sisters of Charity.  I help with the three-and-a-half hour drive from Santa Cruz to the Capital, shop for supplies, etc.  I thought it would be great to work in the kitchen while the postulants are attending classes.

I asked the Sister in charge if this might be possible.  I told her I can cook, clean, chop vegetables, wash dishes, mop, anything; it didn't matter.  The only thing that mattered was that I wanted to be a part of their soup kitchen on those days when I was in the city.  I was asked one question.   Sister wanted to know if I would eat with the people who came to the kitchen.  "Of course," I said.  I had spent eight years eating with homeless men and women in New York City, why not Guatemala . . . 

However, Sister's question continues to impact my daily activities and my prayer life.  Will you honor the people you serve?  Will you be present to them?  Will you allow their presence to serve you?  Are you willing to receive as well as to give?  Is volunteering a job or a source of nourishment?

The Charity Charism of love of God through service to God's people, especially those who are poor and/or living on life's margins, is a principle that we - Daughters, Sisters and Charity Associates - seek to live in our daily lives and various ministries.    

It is with gratitude and humility that we offer ourselves.   We give because God has freely given to us.  We give because sharing can be an act of justice as well as an act of charity.  And St. Vincent de Paul, co-founder of the Daughters of Charity, would quickly add, "It is not enough to give bread.  The rich can to that.  It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread that you give them."

So, here's a big "thumbs up" to all of you who regularly volunteer your time and talents -  in soup kitchens and schools, hospitals, parks and playgrounds, in nursing facilities and on behalf of a wide range of not-for-profit organizations.  Your care and concern helps fulfill a variety of social needs and is a sacred gift.  It can turn a simple activity into an act of love.

Ready, set, vows!

By Sr. Tracy Kemme

Retreating at Jesuit Spiritual Center in Milford, Ohio

At the opening Mass of retreat last week, the homilist invited each of us to name our desire.  What do I yearn for on these days of retreat?  To frame his question, he shared that when we go out to eat and settle on a menu selection, our body physiologically anticipates and prepares for tasting that particular food.  And so it is in the spiritual life.  In naming our desire, our hearts prepare to receive that gift from God. 

I knew what I desired.  I felt great hunger entering into those sacred days.  I’ll be professing first vows on June 27^th, and so I wanted God to speak to my heart and affirm unquestionably my readiness for vows.  I wanted a profound encounter with Jesus.  I anticipated a joyful, full-hearted week.

The thing about naming our desire is that it doesn’t mean we'll be satisfied the way we hope.  Almost as soon as I eagerly entered into the silence, it felt like God went silent, too.  I chose my menu entrée, but God clocked out without filling my order. 

Uninvited thoughts and reflections began popping up.  I cycled between feelings of restlessness and emptiness.  I came face to face with fears and doubts that must be buried deep within me.  I replayed vividly some of the most painful moments of letting go in my journey to sisterhood.  I experienced a resurgence of past emotions again tugging at my heart.  And, although I’ve felt deeply drawn to make vows throughout this year, the power of the word “vow” all of a sudden stopped me in my tracks in a way it hadn’t before.  This is a big deal!  Can I really do it?

Beautiful morning leaves on retreat

I was a little irked with God for being so inconsiderate and leaving me alone to grapple with all this.  Even things that usually bring me consolation on retreat like spotting deer, looking up at beautiful morning leaves, and sharing Eucharist with the community, left me unimpressed.  “You can do anything, right God?  Well, you’re not acting like it!"  I figured that since I’m kind of getting ready to vow my entire life to God, clear affirmation from God wouldn’t be too much to ask!

Good thing God puts up with my whiny teenager moments, probably with an amused and loving Divine Smirk.

I’ve learned that in times of discomfort, the only choice is to stay with it, enter into it, and ask God what it’s all about.  Somewhere in those days of struggle, a Bible passage surfaced in my heart.  I flipped to Luke 4:1-13 in which Jesus is tempted in the wilderness before catapulting into his public ministry.  What struck me immediately is that the story is drenched in the Holy Spirit.  Although Jesus wrestled with many things, he was led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit and then emerged, “filled with the power of the Spirit.”  I sensed that I, too, was not alone.  It was all the work of the Spirit in me, even if I couldn’t feel it.  The word came to me:  Trust.

That evening, I walked the labyrinth, and a familiar melody began to play in my heart without me knowing how: “I will be with you; that is my promise.  I will be with you, forevermore.  Trust in my love; bring me all your cares.  And I will be with you, forevermore.”

I sighed with a softened heart as a new peace spread through my abdomen.  I felt held close, accompanied, and affirmed.  As God often does, God came to me in a way that I could not have expected, but it was, of course, just what I needed.  Sure, God could have blessed me with retreat days of palpable Presence.  But this experience somehow left me more firmly rooted and aware of my inner strength.

The wilderness was a needed reminder that there will be more wildernesses to come.  There will be temptations, and emptiness, and doubt along with the wonder, joy, and fulfillment.  Even knowing that and experiencing it acutely in the silence of retreat, I can think of doing nothing else with my life.  I can say yes to it all.

As in any vocational commitment, I come as I am to do the best that I can, with God’s grace.  I sense God inviting me to these vows that are not one-time declarations but an evolving journey, “You have all you need.  You are ready.  Trust.”

I go forth, filled with the power of the Spirit!

First Communion at St. Marks

By: Sr. Mary Ellen Lacy, DC

It is the season of first holy communions and Pentecost.  I recall a first holy communion day at St Mark’s Church in El Paso, Texas. I was sent there for six weeks so that I could learn Immigration asylum law at Las Americas Legal Assistance clinic.  Anyway, on this Sunday of First Communions, the plaza outside the church swelled with proud parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins of the neighbor you once met.   Interspersed amongst them were the communicants, decked out in flowing white dresses and satin suits.   The girls posed sweetly for pictures with their friends while the boys ran and played as if they were on a football field. There was an excitement in the air and I wondered if they understood what was about to happen to them.   I wondered if any second grader could know.  In that same second, I wondered how many adults really appreciate reception of the Real Presence.  

As always, as I entered the church, I looked for my Jesus on the cross.  I love to stare at Jesus on the cross because I  love Him and the crucifix always heats up that love within me.  On that day, it stirred me to such a place that I could not help but swoon in the feeling for a bit.  I was held still in the feeling that you get when you can almost touch Him. Ya know how it is: you are locked into this fascinating intangible possibility, your senses are hyper alert and your chest fells like a balloon that is about to burst... but you know it won't.  Still, it is so wonderful that, in the back of your mind, you know it cannot last here on earth.  It is one of those Holy Spirit enabled glimpses of the Reign of God.   

As my heart filled with the joy of being with Him, my vision became both clearer and broader at the same time.  I gazed upon the crucifix and I noticed that there was an orange circular work of stained glass in the front wall, angled just a few feet above and behind Jesus.  In the center of the circle was a white dove whose open wings tapered into loose swirls, resembling white party streamers.  It appears as if the Holy Spirit is flying over Jesus, protecting Him and testifying to Him. My eyes continued to drift upward following a ray of light.    I saw that, just above this dove, is a glass ceiling.  At high noon, the blazing Texas sun shines directly into the church.  It reflected through the Spirit dove, onto Jesus and then radiated from Jesus upon the children who were about to receive our Lord for the first time.   If cinematography is important for movies, the guy who designed this church deserves some kind of holy Academy Award.  It was breathtaking! Amid this Pentecostal backdrop, these children would step up, recognize the body of Christ and accept responsibility for becoming It.  They would say Amen, so be it.   And they were doing this in absolute joy and excitement.

As the children marched up the center aisle to receive communion, I thought of that passage where Jesus is in the midst of the crowds.  The children want to come to Him but the adults try to stop them.  Jesus intervenes and tells them to let the kiddos come to Him.  Jesus loves children and we are to have the faith of a child.  My eyes filled and stung with tears for I knew Jesus was very happy at this exuberant procession toward communion with Him.  I just knew it.

In this season of Pentecost, it occurs to me that we must always receive our Lord amidst a Pentecostal backdrop in order to embrace the whole Jesus experience.  These kids may or may not have understood the theology, but they got the right idea.  Come to Me and  come to Me full of joy and expectation, for I am a nearby God who loves you.   They were open to the Spirit as well as His real Presence.  And like fertile ground, they held out their little hands and said Yes, grow in me.  These kids and families remind me that my daily communion with Jesus is a celebration that should be met with joy and expectant hope. I want to bask in the joyful light of the Spirit as I embrace Who I am called to be.  

I believe genuine acceptance of the Spirit and holy communion should ignite a change of behavior.  Each time I proceed in formation to receive Him, I am called to allow Him to fill and envelope me. When I say Amen, I say “Yes, I want to become a part of You who I love so dearly”. I say, “Yes, I want to be a part of Your community of Light.”  “And yes, I want to help bring about the Kingdom of God.”   

I pray to the Holy Spirit to keep me present to His Presence.

Archbishop Oscar Romero Beatified

"In times of difficult coexistence, Archbishop Oscar Romero knew how to lead, protect and defend his flock, remaining faithful to the Gospel and in communion with the whole church".- Pope Francis

The Two Crosses

By: Sr. Salvatrice Murphy, DC
On the day I became a sister there was an Incorporation Ceremony before friends, family, and a whole host of Daughters of Charity.  I wore my full habit for the first time, and during Mass I had placed around my neck a cross marked with SV (for St. Vincent); it is the universal sign of the Company of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.  Worn by 17,000 sisters around the world, it is “a distinctive sign which identifies them as Daughters of Charity” (C.41).  Not quite as loud as a coronet, but still a visible sign.

While Daughters of Charity have been notoriously conspicuous throughout history (flying nun, anyone?), our vows have not been.  Known early on as servants of the sick poor, and having as our main purpose honoring God through service to the poor, Daughters make four vows: poverty, chastity, obedience, and service of those who are poor.  These vows are not public; they “are ‘non-religious’, annual, and always renewable” (C.28a)

When I pronounced my vows for the first time, I was given another cross.  Larger and heavier than the first, this crucifix was pressed into my hand in an inconspicuous gesture before Mass began.  Unlike the universal sign, I had not seen this on all Daughters of Charity.  After Mass one of the sisters came up to me and pulling at a chain hidden beneath her collar she revealed her own vow cross worn since her first vows many years ago.  It felt as though she was letting me in on a secret of her joy.  This unseen cross seemed right to me, though I couldn’t exactly say why.

The words came to me soon after when tragedy touched the place where I work.  A teen in our program had been killed.  Everyone was preparing to head out for a candlelight vigil to mourn and show support for the family.  I planned to go too- to be a visible sign along with the staff, volunteers and other youth.  But they needed someone to stay and keep the gym open.  Nearly everyone was going to the vigil; the gym was basically empty, but needed to be open to welcome any other youth who might arrive.  So I stayed.  A thought came to my mind along with the image of that sister’s well-worn cross: this is what it means to be a servant.  There is a time for public witness, but underneath the signs and symbols a Daughter of Charity is first and foremost a servant.

YES! YES! YES! I Am Here

By: Laurie Parker


A couple months ago a teacher friend of mine told me a story.  It’s such a wonderful story I’ve been sharing it every chance I get, and with her permission I will share it now.


Ms. Morris teaches 5th grade. One day during Religion class, one of her students, a 10-year old boy, asked her if it was okay to question God, maybe even question God’s existence.  Ms. Morris, being an excellent teacher, responded, “Of course. God loves it when we ask questions, because he loves answering our questions! That’s how we get to know God better.”


She encouraged the boy to pray that night before he went to sleep, to bring whatever questions he had to God, and even to ask God for a sign. She explained that God's response might come in the form of song lyrics, a conversation with a friend, or text in a book he was reading—but most likely not in an audible omniscient voice. God speaks to everyone differently, but personally, she assured him. Ms. Morris, then, did some rather frantic praying of her own that night before she went to bed: “Okay God, I've done my part. I sent him to you; now it's time to do your part. Don't let him down."

The next day, the boy came to class and told Ms. Morris that he had prayed before going to sleep. 
"Did you get a sign?" she asked, curious.
"No, but that's okay," he answered, seemingly unphased.
The weekend passed, and the boy returned to school on Monday morning.
"Ms. Morris! I got a sign!" the boy beamed as he entered the classroom.
"What happened?" Ms. Morris wanted to know.


Apparently, there is a wrestler who, whenever he enters the ring shouts, “Yes! Yes! Yes! I am here!” to announce himself. The boy shared that he had attended his cousin's wrestling-themed birthday party that weekend, and when he walked into the party—still carrying his questions about God--one of the first things he noticed was a large banner, proclaiming, 

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I am here!”  "When I saw it,” he said, “I just knew it was God!" 

The Sign. This is a child, a concrete thinker.  He asked for a sign, and God quite literally gave him one.  I am reminded of how God speaks to all of us in the language we best understand.  I am a musician, and I know in my own life God often speaks to me through music.  During my discernment process, whenever I was uncertain or anxious, it always seemed a song would come on the radio that would somehow put things into perspective for me.  And when I reflect on the world today, how scientifically- and technologically-minded we are, I can’t help but think about how God speaks to us through these modes, as well.  When we look into our quantum sensors and telescopes and computers surely we are looking at God: in the mystery and uncertainty of the quantum realm, in the hugeness and incredibly beauty of space, in the connectedness of the Internet, God is there.  I truly believe wherever we turn our minds and our hearts, we will find God, whether we know we are seeking Him or not.  The signs are everywhere.  

Yes! Yes! Yes!  Often in our history, it seems religion has been more about “nos” than “yeses,” more about “Thou shalt nots…” than “Thou shalts…” and while parameters are good and necessary they speak very little of God.  It strikes me that given the chance to speak God immediately speaks in the affirmative: “Yes! Yes! Yes!”  There is something quite joyful about that affirmation, and I am reminded of e.e. Cumming’s poem:

 

I thank You God for most this amazing

day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

 

There is joy in creation.  While it may not always seem that way on the surface, we are a creation infused with God’s “Yes!”  We are called to be people of joy, living life to the fullest, not in a way that’s saccharine or blind to the world’s many troubles, but aware that come-what-may we are rooted in God’s love.  I think this is the definition of Christian life, the Good News, and (to get more specific to my life) I think it is the definition of vowed life.  The irony is that, on the surface, it is easier to see what religious sisters give up (celibacy, poverty, obedience), but I defy anyone to spend too much time with a group of sisters (at least the sisters I know) and not see all that they’ve gained.  It’s not always something one can put their finger on, but it is there, a subtle joy or peace.  Like any lifestyle, it has its hardships and sacrifices, but by and large the vowed life is a life of saying, “Yes” to God and one another, a life lived in the affirmative space. 

 

I am here.  Something about that phrase just rings true for me!  Maybe it’s because that’s the way some of the prophets (on their good days) have answered God, “Here I am.”  Maybe it’s because sometimes when I am sitting quietly in prayer that is one of the phrases that calls my wandering mind back to its center.  Or maybe it just reminds me of another man in another time who wanted to know more about God, and got the enigmatic response: “I am who am” (Ex. 3:14).  It’s a response that leaves us guessing, undoubtedly, because no language can truly capture the essence of God, but as Ms. Morris said, it is important to continue bringing our questions to God.  And perhaps if we can have hearts like children that are open and receptive, God’s “signs” (which I believe are always before us) will gradually become less enigmatic.  There is something special about that childlike openness.  After all, while God’s response to Moses remains mysterious, God’s sign to the questing 5^th grader couldn’t be much clearer: “Yes! Yes! Yes! I am here!”