“To make known His merciful love”

This phrase is all over our website, Facebook page, newsletters, brochures, etc.  Why?  Because it is our mission. Our desire is that all peoples will come to know God’s personal and merciful love for them.  Needless to say, we were elated when we learned of Pope Francis’ proclamation of an Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy beginning December 8, 2015 on the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.  Many of us experienced it as the Church confirming our community in our mission.

In the months since we heard about the Jubilee Year of Mercy we have been doing many things to prepare.  Some sisters have been reading Fr. Michael Gaitley’s book The Second Greatest Story Ever Told.  It speaks about Saint Pope John Paul II as the great Mercy Pope, tells a little bit of the history of speaking about Divine Mercy and the relationship between Divine Mercy and Marian Consecration.  Others sisters have been reading and praying with the Bull of Indiction of the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Misericordiae Vultis, watching a movie on the life of St. Faustina (Apostle of Mercy) and many other things besides.

But what better way to prepare than to count down with Our Lady?  What do I mean?

Preparation for Marian Consecration.

Fr. Michael Gaitley speaks about how Mary is the Mother of Mercy and that she opens hearts to receive Mercy.  With this in mind, many of our sisters have felt called to renew their Marian Consecration on December 8th with a particular intention.  In these final days before the opening of the Holy Door we will be specifically asking Mary to go before her Son and open the hearts of all people to be able to receive his mercy during this great Jubilee Year of Mercy.

We would like to INVITE YOU TO JOIN US in the preparation and Marian Consecration and countdown the days to the opening of the Jubilee Year of Mercy! 

On November 5th we will begin our countdown and preparation for Marian Consecration!  We will be reading and praying with Fr. Michael Gaitley’s book 33 Days to Morning Glory and invite you to do the same.  However, if you don’t have the book, that’s OK too!  You can also pray variations of St. Louis de Montfort’s version or even St. Maximilian Kolbe’s shorter preparation. See myconsecration.org for options.

The important thing is to prepare, ask for Our Lady’s intercession for her children, consecrate yourself to Jesus through Mary, and then get ready to see miracles of Mercy!

We will be making posts throughout the 33 days to check in and see how things are going, give encouragement, and countdown the days to the beginning of the Jubilee Year of Mercy.

We hope that you join us during these 33 days and help “to make known God’s merciful love”!

Here is a brief 3-minute explanation of Marian Consecration and what it’s all about by Fr. Michael Gaitley: 

-Sr. Sophia Grace Huschka, T.O.R.

I am not a “natural” Franciscan.

Even the tamest and most domesticated of animals tend to run the other way when they see me coming!

I have always liked “nice things” and during my discernment process, I grappled with the idea of giving up my expensive Italian furniture, smoked salmon and decadent hot chocolate (the kind with the cream, chocolate stick and powdering on top).

So, what was it that attracted me to a specifically Franciscan community, a fact that amused no small number of my family members and friends?

In a nutshell, it was the fact that St. Francis loved the good things in this life on a natural level too! But….and this is a big but, he was willing to sacrifice these on many occasions for the greater good of drawing himself and others closer to Christ. He lived his life preparing his soul and the souls of others for the pinnacle moment of life – the moment of meeting Christ face to face in death.

So what did the taste buds of St. Francis gravitate toward? The “Assisi Compilation 8” states that on his deathbed Francis said in reference to a close friend Lady Jacopa “have her also send some of those sweets which she often (note: often!) made for me when I was in the city, the confection made of almonds, sugar and honey that the Romans call mostacciolo”. Sounds good, no?

Pre-conversion, St. Francis was picky with his food, turning away with a wry face from distasteful morsels. He also dressed handsomely and avoided the malnourished and contagious lepers, sensing that he was even more revolted than others by their odorous sores.

But post conversion, St. Francis was very different. Everything was assessed through a finer Christocentric lens according to the following Scripture passage:

“Those things I used to consider gain I have now reappraised as loss in the light of Christ. I have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake I have forfeited everything; I have accounted all else rubbish so that Christ may be my wealth. I wish to know Christ and the power flowing from his resurrection; likewise to know how to share in his sufferings by being formed into the pattern of his death”. Philippians 3:7-8,10

It was not that he gave up all good things. No. There were still times and seasons for celebrations and enjoyment of legitimate goods and pleasures. But the lens was different. He chose to “die” to whatever would hold him back from the greater good of running spiritually barefoot toward Him whom he loved with every sinew and blood vessel of his being.

His love was passionate and all-consuming and involved sacrifice for a greater good.

My Dad who passed away on  May 30, 2015 was at heart very Franciscan. He too chose to die to himself in so many ways throughout his life, as a means of growing closer to Christ and bringing us (and others) with him.

By way of a small example, I remember having many parties in our family home that resulted in some really good leftovers, the kind that are even better the following day. My Dad, who incidentally had a very “sweet tooth,” would regularly box up all the leftovers and bring them into St. Kevin’s Capuchin Day Center for the Poor in the center of Dublin, Ireland.

To my Franciscan shame, my protests to keep some (just some) of the leftovers for ourselves were ignored. Good as those leftovers were, and legitimate as it would have been to keep some of them, my Dad wanted to give all, not just what we didn’t really want.

My Dad and St. Francis have both taught me that those “mini-deaths” along the way of life are a key preparation for the ultimate death that we will all face some day. After all, we will take none of these good things with us. As it says in First Timothy chapter 6,
St. Francis on his death bed

“For we brought nothing into the world, just as we shall not be able to take anything out of it”.

I came across a very interesting website just recently - http://www.e5men.org Thousands of men in this organization fast on bread and water for one day a month for their wives or other important women in their lives. Isn’t that powerful?! Check it out if you can. On their website they also quote St. John Vianney (no doubt St. Francis would heartily agree with him) who said:

“My friend, the devil is not greatly afraid of the discipline and other instruments of penance. That which beats him is the curtailment of one’s food, drink, and sleep. There is nothing the devil fears more, consequently, nothing is more pleasing to God. Oh! How often have I experienced it! ... - it happened at times that I refrained from food for entire days . On those occasions I obtained, both for myself and others, whatsoever I asked of Almighty God."

Isn’t it amazing to think that our sacrifices offered with great love to God do help to prepare us for death, and draw down so many graces for our own souls and those of others?

St. Francis, pray for us!

-Sr. Miriam O’Callaghan, T.O.R.

About eleven weeks ago, I got a call to say that my Dad was on the brink of death. While not unexpected, this was still shocking news and I rushed to Vienna airport in Austria where I was based at the time, wondering if I would see him alive again.

As I made my way to the airport gate, fighting tears and hoping quite honestly that nobody would approach me, I heard a man’s voice behind me say, “Where is God?”

(On a side note, I am always intrigued by the fact that wherever in the world I travel, regardless of the language of the country I’m in, people will unfailingly address me in English! Maybe it’s got something to do with my red hair and pale skin!)

I turned around thinking that maybe I had misheard and that he was actually looking for directions to the bathroom. But no, he was serious, and he repeated his question, “Where is God?”

I was taken aback by his question and responded somewhat haltingly at first, “Well, he’s present around us and within us, within our hearts”.

The man said: “So he’s not in heaven?”

I responded and said, “Yes, yes, he is in heaven, but he’s also right here, right among us, alive within our hearts”.

The man, who later told me that he was from Iraq, was stunned. He turned to his friend and said, “Can you believe this? She is saying that God is alive! That he’s within us!”

I turned to him again and said, “Yes, and not only is he alive, but we can talk to him. In fact, he loves when we talk with him and share what’s on our heart with him”.

The man again exclaimed with great surprise and excitement that he had never heard this before. He seemed to be really moved.

He then asked me where I was going.

I told him about my situation and he was so kind. He didn’t say a lot but what he did say communicated a genuine warmth and compassion.

I left our encounter feeling consoled and grateful for that short time capsule of human interaction. It also challenged me to stay open to even the “bite-sized” opportunities for sharing the Gospel that come our way, though we may be at our weakest and most “out of it”.

When I got to my Dad’s bedside, I was overjoyed that he was still with us. I smiled as I thought about how he had influenced me so much in the area of evangelization. Post-retirement he led more than thirty-five separate mission trips outside of our home country of Ireland, trips that were based on the New Evangelization. Even in the last months of his life, as he travelled over and back to a London hospital for treatment for his leukemia, he would regularly engage the London taxi drivers in discussions about faith, experiencing great joy in these encounters and discussions as he shared and listened.


We had two more weeks with my Dad before he passed away. Thanks, Dad, for all that you taught me!

- Sr. Miriam O'Callaghan
     

            I approached the “Helping Hike for the Poor” with some mixed feelings. I was excited for a challenge, nervous about how it would go, grateful for the opportunity and my sisters’ support, and a bit concerned about the logistical aspects (I was the self-appointed “Sherpa” for the day).  It wound up being a beautiful day all around: the weather was clear and not too hot, we finished (!), and it was also, for me, an object lesson about the meaning of community in the Christian life.
            After the sisters who joined us for the first stretch of the trail left, the remnant group decided to pick up the pace, to make sure we finished the hike at a reasonable hour. This movement intensified at the halfway point after lunch, when only Fr. Matt, Morgan (a Franciscan University student), and I were left. We would take turns setting the pace, because after a certain point, it’s just hard to go fast if there’s nobody in front of you encouraging (or shaming!) you to keep pushing. As we trudged, climbed, jogged, and trod through the woods, I suddenly thought, “This is the Christian race! This is what St. Paul was talking about!”
            You see, I am competitive by nature, and I’ve often reflected on St. Paul’s running metaphor for the spiritual life. He encourages us, saying that we must run so as to win – after all, only one man wins the victor’s crown! This is certainly an inspiration for us to strive earnestly in the spiritual life, but how does this somewhat individualist notion cohere with the communal aspect of the Christian life? Where is my neighbor? Am I trying to pass him?
            The answer, of course, is “no.” Each time I would take the lead in the hike, I would push myself just as hard as I could to set a good, quick pace. But it wasn’t to win first prize or to be the best. It was in order to serve my brothers, traveling alongside me. When Fr. Matt took the lead, I was grateful to follow, and focused just on encouraging (and sometimes entertaining!) him. His speed was a challenge to me, but it was also a gift to me. To use another Pauline metaphor, we were members of one body, Christ’s, and together we were striving to finish the race.
            This is a microcosm of the Christian life. We all must strive to push on, to do our best, to be saints. And as we do so, we are not in competition with one another. Rather, we are on the same team, working together in Christ to become Christ, or, as St. Paul says, to “attain to the unity of faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13).

- Sr. Agnes Thérèse Davis, T.O.R.

When someone learns that our daughter is a Sister, he or she typically responds in one of two ways.  Most people, especially other moms, relate to the difficulty of being separated from their daughter.  They say something like, “Wow!  That must be so hard.  I don’t know if I could do that!”  The second response, which I hear less often, goes something like this, “Wow!  That must be such a blessing for your family!”

To be honest, it is both of those:  incredibly painful and difficult at times, but always, even in that loss, an indescribable blessing.   And as such, I have often pondered how my life as the mother of a Sister might draw me closer to the heart of Mother Mary, and how my life might even reflect hers in some ways, if by the grace of God, I can do this well. 

I begin by thinking about the Annunciation (Luke 1: 26-38). Our Lady’s life was completely changed with her fiat when her life as the Mother of her Savior and ours began.  She was already holy, full of grace.  That was not quite true of me, but I was hungering for God in my own way. Newly married and fairly new to the Church, my life truly began with the conception and birth of our first child, Sarah.  I began to fall in love with God as I beheld our tiny child.  As she loved me unconditionally, I felt God’s love as never before.  As I loved and nurtured her, God healed me of many wounds, and I grew in awe of Him.  With her birth came the true birth of my faith.  Wanting to be the best mom I could be, I wanted her to know, love and serve the Lord.  Thus, I grew in the knowledge of my faith as I began to teach her.  God continued to bless us with six more beautiful children, and the journey continued. 

Now to focus on the Finding of Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2: 41-52):  I relate to this story as well.  When Jesus was twelve years old, his parents had lost him on the way back from Jerusalem.  They found him after three days.  He was in the temple teaching, and everyone was amazed by his words.  But he went back to Nazareth, and was obedient to his parents.    Perhaps Jesus was already very capable of beginning his work.  But it wasn’t time.    How difficult it must have been for him to wait to begin his public ministry. And from this time, Mary held all this in her heart. 

Like Jesus, my daughter had to be in her Father’s house.  She loved the Lord from a very young age and began serving him in many ways.  By the time she was eleven, I knew in my heart that our Lord was calling her to a religious vocation.  As soon as she visited the Franciscan Sisters T.O.R. for a young girls’ day, she knew.  She said she felt like she was “home.”  I, like Mother Mary, had to hold all this in my heart.  She didn’t talk about it often, and didn’t tell people outside the family, but she knew.  And as her mother, I knew as well.  Occasionally I thought about what this might mean to me personally, the losses I would have to suffer.  But mostly I was filled with awe that God was calling one of our daughters to this very special and important vocation. I know it was hard for Sarah to wait.  She prayed about when she should apply, and if she should attend Franciscan University for all four years.  After much prayer, she was obedient to what she believed the Father wanted. And as difficult as it was at times, she waited until after her college graduation. 

At the Wedding Feast at Cana (John 2: 1 -11), we see our Blessed Mother’s influence on the beginning of Christ’s public ministry. From my own perspective as a mother, I see this as a mother’s little nudge. To me, it is as if she was saying to him, “It’s time.  I believe in you. You can do this.”  Jesus knows all and didn’t really need that nudge, but perhaps Mother Mary needed to give it.  Perhaps it was a gift from God to Mary to help prepare her heart for what was to come. She had to begin to let go of that life they had been living together, the quiet life of the Holy Family.  It was the beginning of a different way of life for both of them. So it was for us.  Mary told them to do whatever Jesus asks of them.  She tells us the same thing.  Do whatever Jesus asks.  The application process, the appointments, the packing, everything that had to be done in preparation for entering candidacy:  we were preparing our hearts for everything to change.  We were preparing for our daughter to do whatever God was asking of her. 

Like Jesus, our daughter had lived at home.  She had commuted to Franciscan.  This was not always easy for her, but she did it for us because we could not afford for her to live away.  And although she had studied abroad in Austria, and had been away for mission trips and summer work, she had been part of our home, our family life, and was truly leaving for the first time when she entered the Monastery. 

I will always remember the day Sarah entered the Franciscan Sisters T.O.R.  It was one of the happiest and yet most sorrowful days of my life.  If I may compare it to Good Friday, it was truly something like that for me.  I had to let go of my daughter so that she could go fulfill the Father’s will for her life, so that she could go serve him in complete and total abandonment of the world.  Of course, none of us dare compare our sacrifices to what our Lord has done for us, and we never could come close.  But since he called us to take up our cross and follow him daily, I do dare make some analogy here.  I felt like I lost my daughter that day. I felt like I stood with Mother Mary at the foot of the cross.   I truly mourned like never before.  No actual death that I had ever experienced came close to the grief I felt when we returned home that day without our daughter.  I sat at the kitchen table completely lost.  I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I cried easily for days, weeks, even months. I was lost. There is no other word to describe it besides grief. 

And then the joy of the Resurrection:  Christ lives!  My daughter lives.  Yes, she has a new life.  Our little family will never be the same as it was before.  But now I can honestly say, it is not only different but better.  One and a half years after our daughter entered as Sarah Kilonsky, we were waiting for the phone call to hear that she had been accepted as a novice and had been given her new name.  I waited as an expectant mother.  I waited like I had waited the first time: to meet my daughter.  Who would this new person be?  What would God name her?  And we got the call: Sr. Agnes Maria.


 I praise and thank the Almighty God for he has done good things to me. 
-Shirley Kilonsky (mother of Sr. Agnes Maria)

We don’t use hashtags in our daily experience of religious life (unlike many of you, dear readers), but if we did, a lot of our posts these days would probably say #TRANSITION.

It’s just that time of year. In early August, our sisters move to their respective mission houses, our novices make first vows, our postulants become novices, and new postulants come our way. Some sisters have the same assignments they had last year, and others have new, sometimes dramatically new, assignments. We call it #transition.

Another hashtag would be #thegraceforthat. I joked with a sister a few days ago – there’s a grace for that! Wherever the Lord puts us, He gives us the grace to be there – to do that specific thing, to be his light in that specific way. But sometimes it’s hard to see for all the newness. Where is it to be found? Where is the grace?

I am in the midst of #transition too. Sure, I’m still here at the motherhouse, and still working in the heart of the home (a.k.a. the kitchen), but now I have the responsibility of coordinating all of it.

It can be easy to compare. “Last year, I didn’t have to …” “Her assignment is so much more exciting …” It can be easy to be discontent.

But I realized something recently – I don’t have the grace to do anything else right now. I don’t have the grace to serve the poor or to minister to college students, as our mission house sisters do. I don’t have the grace to teach the novices. I definitely don’t have the grace to be the Reverend Mother! =) I am exactly where He wants me – where the grace is. And if I look more closely, I can see it. I can see how He has gifted me and put me right where I can use my gifts for the greater good.

St. Peter writes, "As generous distributors of God's manifold grace, put your gifts at the service of one another, each in the measure he has received" (1 Peter 4:10). The stay-at-home mom who offered to bake and decorate the cakes for our celebrations this summer – she has the grace, the gift, for that. The retired painter who volunteered his time for a couple of weeks to help repaint our dining room and hallways – he has #thegraceforthat. The married couple with children who farm and garden here at our motherhouse property and share the bounty with us – they have #thegraceforthat. And they all put their graces, ultimately God’s gifts, at the service of others. And I can do the same! Why would I want to do anything without His help?

Just because God supplies it doesn’t mean it is easy to share the grace. But it is comforting to know He is ultimately the source. I’m just distributing what He gives.

Where is the grace? It’s right here. I’m already knee-deep in it. I just have to move my feet forward to feel the rush, the wetness, around me. I have to move. When I’m standing still, looking back at where I was, I can’t see the grace I have for today, for tomorrow.

So, in the midst of all the #transition, I know God is the same, and his hands are always open, full of gifts. I want to stay right here – where the grace is.
Sr. Katherine at her First Profession of Vows
 in 1990
 25 years ago on this day, the feast of St. Clare, our own "St. Clare" and one of our foundresses, Sr. Katherine Caldwell, gave over her life by pronouncing her first vows to the Lord and this community. We want to give the Lord due honor and thanks on this silver jubilee of her first "yes" for her and the gift of her faithfulness these past 25 years!

I knew her well over 25 years ago when as fellow Californians we had a common interest in following the example of St. Francis in our lives. I was studying at Franciscan University of Steubenville, from which she had just graduated, and I still remember how warm and welcoming she was as she invited me to learn more about the Secular Franciscan Student Fraternity that existed on campus, of which she was a member. Her passion and zeal to follow Christ by the radical witness of St. Francis inspired me to want to join the Secular Franciscan Fraternity and to make a deeper commitment to embrace the spirituality of St. Francis in my own life.

Like St. Francis, who stripped himself of his fine clothing before the Bishop, proclaimed God as his Father and embraced the lifestyle of a poor beggar, Katherine (Katy) Caldwell also chose to be poor in the world’s eyes, to forsake worldly prestige and the honor of titles and graduate degrees, in order to let Christ be her wealth, her value and reward. She was led by the Spirit of God, though it seemed foolish to some, to help found a new religious community that would live a hidden life of prayer, sacrifice, and humble service.

Sr. Katherine with her parents and sister
after her profession ceremony in 1990
Though she owned nothing, and felt small and ill-equipped for the task, she trusted God and stepped out of her comfort zone and with great faith and humility, helped to found the Franciscan Sisters, Third Order Regular of Penance of the Sorrowful Mother. During that founding year of 1988, I witnessed the great courage of Sr. Katherine and our community’s founding members who impelled me to want to learn more about the community and their charisms of crucified love, mercy, poverty and contemplation. Sr. Katherine generously paved the way for the rest of us who joined later, laying down her life for the sake of the Gospel by embracing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Empty handed, she offered her ‘all’ to God, to do with as He wished, just like the boy in the Gospel who offered the disciples of Jesus two fish, together with five loaves, to be miraculously multiplied.

From the earliest years until today, Sr. Katherine has always been deeply serious about the pursuit of holiness, while also fun-loving and joyful, willing to do the humblest of tasks, as well as join in the fun and recreation with all the Sisters who have needed relief and balance amidst the intensity of founding a new religious order. She has been a tender sister and a wise reverend Mother for 10 years. I have often experienced her deep wisdom and gained from watching her bear labor pains no less than a mother bears for her child. These pains are, I believe, a true badge of courage.

Sr. Katherine renewing her vows
this past August 1st at a Mass at our
Motherhouse
Ever loyal in saying ‘yes’ to God’s will for the past 25 years, Sr. Katherine continues to be an example of passionate zeal for the Kingdom of God. In the name of all of your Sisters, I thank you, dear Sr. Katherine, for your friendship, spiritual motherhood, and constant example of undying courage and zeal.

We love you!
Sr. Mary Rose Bratlien, TOR and all your TOR Sisters

Sr. Katherine is currently on sabbatical after serving in leadership in our community for 21 years (11 of these years were as Reverend Mother). She was part of the founding of our community in 1988. She developed our formation program and served in formation for 12 years. She was the main author of our Constitutions and Statutes and also spearheaded the designing of our chapel, Father of Mercy. She has two graduate degrees and is currently working on a third in counseling that will assist her in serving the poor in downtown Steubenville. This is only a few of many accomplishments.

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