By Sister Sheila Carney
When asked to write a reflection on Catherine’s roots, the image that came to mind was that of a taproot—a dominant root that anchors a plant and reaches deep into the soil to access water and nutrients. The taproot for Catherine, and for all of us who follow in her Mercy footsteps, is found in a letter she wrote to Father Gerald Doyle on May 6, 1836. Father Doyle had inquired, on behalf of young ladies in his parish, about the Sisters of Mercy’s entrance requirement. Catherine’s response contains charming and now outmoded requirements, but it began with words which define who we are in Mercy: “an ardent desire to be united to God and to serve the poor.”
We know that these “movements,” these Mercy footsteps, were embedded in Catherine by her father, who instructed her in prayer and made her his companion in outreach to those living in poverty, especially children. That her life was shaped and fueled by these experiences is evident. The word “ardent,” for instance, suggests a passionate, unquenchable yearning. Similar words appear in the Original Rule—zeal, fervor, animation in our lives and ministries. There is nothing tepid in Catherine’s own response to God or in her expectation of those who followed in her footsteps! This is the nutrient into which the tap root extends and expresses itself in service of those living in poverty.
For Catherine, this meant serving the economically poor—those she called the “afflicted poor.” Today, our ministries may not always be directly focused on those living in economic poverty, and we recognize many forms of poverty—of spirit, of intellect, of resources, etc. Nevertheless, we are challenged to find ways to engage with persons whose lives differ significantly from our own, allowing ourselves to be instructed by them in order that our perspectives and our experience of God may be widened and enriched.
Although Catherine herself never used these words, we have come to refer to this dynamic of prayer and service—this taproot of our Mercy life—as contemplation and action. While in every age and in each place we strive to interpret this call in terms of the times and circumstances in which we find ourselves, this names who we are, what roots us, where we find sustenance. In deceptively simple language, it calls us to hold in graceful balance our lives of prayer and our lives of service.
In her “Familiar Instructions” (111), Catherine writes: “Saint Teresa tells us: ‘We must leave God for God,’ that is, we must be ready to quit even prayer in order to find God in our neighbor.” These are the words of a woman, deeply rooted, inviting us to sink our roots into the same nurturing and defining matrix of ardent love and service.