From Season to Season

The daughter of one of the wealthiest men in America, Katherine Drexel was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in 1858. While visiting Europe, Katherine worked to recruit priests and religious to minister to Native Americans, and it was during this trip that Pope Leo XIII suggested that Katherine herself become a missionary. The following year, she established schools in the Dakotas, Wyoming, Montana, California, Oregon, and New Mexico. In 1889, Katharine entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Mercy, and in 1891 she professed her vows as the first member of the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament for Indians and Colored People . Opening a novitiate in Philadelphia, she received twenty-one new sisters in the first year. The new community’s first mission was in New Mexico. Following the death of her father in 1901, Katherine and her sister each received an inheritance amounting to one thousand dollars a day. Other missions and schools soon followed, including Xavier University in New Or...

On February 11, we commemorate the Immaculate Virgin Mary who appeared to Saint Bernadette Soubirous at Lourdes, France, eighteen times between February 11 and July 16, 1858. This memorial of Mary, under the title of “Our Lady of Lourdes,” was extended to the Universal Church by Pope Saint Pius X in 1907. The apparitions of Our Lady at Lourdes is one of the most celebrated events in the Catholic Church in the nineteenth century. In fact, the popularity of “Our Lady of Lourdes” contributed to the renewal of the Catholic Faith throughout France and the shrine that marks the site of the apparitions remains one of the most popular destinations for pilgrims anywhere in the world. Part of the popularity of Lourdes comes from the large number of graces that individuals have received there, particularly miraculous healings. It is no coincidence, therefore, that the commemoration of Our Lady of Lourdes is also celebrated as the World Day of the Sick . The great miracle of Lourdes, however...

I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me. —Matthew 25:35-36 In 1995, Saint John Paul II canonized two very different saints from the Czech Republic. The first was Jan Sarkander , a Jesuit priest and martyr who was killed by militant Protestants in 1620, partly because he refused to reveal what he had heard in the confessional. The other person canonized in that ceremony was Zdislava (or Zedislava) of Lamberk, a wife and mother whose commemoration is celebrated on January 1. Zdislava was born in the early part of the thirteenth century in Bohemia (now part of the Czech Republic). There are stories about her piety as a child and of her desire to live a life of prayer and solitude. However, her family prevailed upon her to marry Count Havel of Lamberk, with whom she had four children. Zdislava lived a life centered on prayer and charity. She was especially devoted...

Rejoice for all the saints today; Who ran by faith the narrow way: The great and low together stand With glory crowned at God’s right hand.   How blest are those who wrought the peace; As heirs they share the Victor’s feast; And prophets by injustice slain Have claimed the Kingdom’s righteous reign. Come, ye martyrs red and virgins white, With teachers wise and students bright, All wives and husbands, monks and nuns, With bishops, priests, and deacons, come. Come, holy men and women all; With heart and voice sing praise and call To Christ who rose triumphantly That we may join your company. —Harry Hagan, O.S.B., Rejoice for All the Saints   At my grandparents’ house, many years ago, I discovered a book that changed my life: a  St. Joseph’s Daily Missal . That prayer book, which had belonged to my grandmother or perhaps my aunt or uncle was from the 1950s and was the resource for lay Catholics wishing to take part in the pre-Vatican II liturgy. ...

I generally have two books going at any given time—one for spiritual enrichment and the other for entertainment. I’m currently reading Jesus: The Son of Man by Kahlil Gibran and Love In the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I’ve also been making my way through an audio version of Michael Cunningham’s The Snow Queen: A Novel. A few days ago, I was listening to The Snow Queen as I went for a walk and I was struck by this passage: There’s something about the courting of disaster, in shopping terms, that fascinates Barrett [one of the book’s main characters], that holds his attention, helps render him satisfied with his current stature. It’s the technically extinct but somehow still plausible hint of calamity implied by the impulse purchase—the impoverished dowager or disinherited young earl who says, “I’m going to walk the earth in this perfectly faded Freddy Mercury t-shirt (two-fifty), I’m going to party tonight in this vintage McQueen minidress (eight hundred), because...

For several years, a story has circulated about a text said to be inscribed on the tomb of a bishop buried in Westminster Abbey. It is supposed to read:   When I was young and free and my imagination had no limits, I dreamed of changing the world. As I grew older, and wiser, I discovered the world would not change, so I shortened my sights somewhat and decided to change only my country. But it, too, seemed immovable. As I grew into my twilight years, in one last desperate attempt, I settled for changing only my family, those closest to me, but alas, they would have none of it. And now, as I lie on my deathbed, I suddenly realized: If I had only changed myself first, then by example, I would have changed my family From their inspiration and encouragement, I would then have been able to better my country, and who knows, I may have even changed the world. For those in ministry, especially for those entrusted with the care of souls, there is a tendency...