Sisterhood

The bullets that were forcing East Pakistan to become Bangladesh were flying through the holes where windows used to be in the local orphanage. A young woman from Detroit was underneath a bed in that Asian orphanage, holding the children close, telling them it would be OK.

The young woman would go on to run that orphanage, then go on to run a worldwide chain of orphanages. In time, she would go on to head one of the largest religious organizations for women in the world, with the best title of anyone in charge of anything— Superior General of the Holy Cross nuns.

After that, she wrote two books on the need to expand the role of women in the Catholic church— books that, it is said, garnered the attention of the Pope, not necessarily in a good way. She went on to lecture and teach on the subject at Oxford and Notre Dame, and became an ardent devotee of the Fighting Irish. Above all, she didn’t make a big deal out of any of this. At family reunions, she wore shorts, swam in the lake, talked to young children like they were her own, and always led the Bailey’s Irish Cream toast to her parents.

I’ve never talked to her about her life, or her career, but based on a life of observing her, I can see her life gives us all something to ponder:

She never longed for the spotlight  If you were to mention her name to anyone outside the organization, they’d have no idea who she was.  Life has never been about making a splash, garnering headlines, or being the subject of the evening news.  You do what you’re supposed to do, and the people in the trenches respect you.  That’s the hallmark of real leadership, no matter what InstaSnap or XGram would have you believe.

Not everyone is going to love you  It’s fair to say more than a few people were troubled by the idea of a nun writing two books, and holding classes at Notre Dame of all places, about the need for the Catholic Church to reform.  But she didn’t write the books to earn the key to Vatican City, or to be added to anyone’s Christmas Card list.  She saw a need that deserved expression, and stood by it, knowing when, and especially when, others disagreed.  That’s integrity

Leaders don’t always see their goals brought to fruition  In case you missed it, women still can’t say mass, or be Pope, or do all that much in the Church.  She’s OK with that.  She laid a foundation for someone else to build on.  Sometimes that’s all you can do.

Aunt Alice recently celebrated her 75th anniversary of her vows to the Catholic Church, having started her quiet quest for feminism by being one of the few women to study differential equations in college, and moving on to change the world— so much so that her celebratory mass, except for the priest, was run entirely by women (with one reading in Swahili with no translation). Like most organizations, the Church has more than its share of baggage. Still, there are tens of thousands of former orphans grateful that the Church has Aunt Alice— as am I.

A friend tells me that today’s Bible reading for the mass, about Martha and Mary, is very revolutionary with regards to women. Mary is in the parlor at the feet of Jesus. The parlor is where the Rabbi would meet with men, not women.

There ya go, Aunt Alice.

Sonnet (Life with my wife)

When day’s end finds me in despair
To you and you alone I turn
In hopes my heart you will repair
And help my soul a lesson learn
But firmly you with love demur
And urge my focus realign
From mortal joys and worldly curs
To higher platform with design
That made all whole and whole will stay
With each need met ‘fore being known
No start or stop to endless day
The source from which all things were grown
An aggregation infinite
Each notion strong on its own feet
And yet together, closely knit
United blend their voices sweet
God’s fairest daughter shows again
The blessings that the heavens lend.

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