Today is the feast day of Catherine of Siena. The Mass at noon today was in her honor. She lived in the Tuscan city of Siena in the late fourteenth century. At age five it is told that she had a vision of the great martyrs in the heavenly courts all at the right hand of God. This vision among many others were so poignant for Catherine that she wished to dedicate her entire life to Christian service. She was one of twenty five children. It was not uncommon to have many children in those days because of the persistent death toll of the Black Plague which terrorized all of Europe. She learned to read and write, and wrote many letters to priests and bishops exhorting them to a proper Christian life of service, challenging the abuses of the institutional church. The town of Siena was divided as to whether she was a mystic or a fanatic. Perhaps the two are close kin.
Catherine became a member of the Dominican order and gave her life to helping the sick and dying. Legend goes that God offered her the stigmata, the wounds of the crucified Christ, but she refused declaring her unworthiness; that her joy found in her work was her just reward. She died from exhaustion at the age of thirty three.
I met her quite by surprise this morning early. I was at a hospital visiting a parishioner. The family and I were waiting outside the patient’s room, and this patient was requiring around the clock nursing care. The nurse came out into the hall, and one of the family members said to her, “Gosh you are really earning your paycheck this week.” To which this tall, dark-skinned, wise-eyed soul said, her eyes profound and fixed on ours, “I thank God for this work every single day!”
Here is one who has given herself to a vocation that many won’t or can’t do. She has learned the secret that in God’s economy we find joy and purpose and life at the margins of our world…where there is disease and death…where there is poverty and indignity…where there is violence and injustice…There we meet the Christ and the response, the reward is joy. I looked at her hands and saw the hope of our world just there…hands which offer themselves in loving sacrifice, recreating once again, and each day, the universe. I didn’t have to ask her name; I already knew, and I thought to myself, I hope she gets her rest, for we will need her for far longer than thirty three years. Blessed Catherine pray for us.
