On this 25th remembrance of 9/11, I recall the story of the little girl whose mother was trying to explain to her the events of September 11th. This little child could not comprehend how someone, who didn’t even know you, could want to hurt you. Struggling for a solution, she said to her mother, “Mommy, why don’t we just tell them our names?” Her solution is innocent and profound. When we know someone “by name”—when we recognize that they have a family, a history, a dream for the future—it is harder to hurt them. It becomes impossible to treat them as an object of terror and a “casualty of war”.
We all know what it’s like to await the birth of a baby in our families. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles — they all have suggestions for the child’s name. We try to pick strong, beautiful, sacred names to bless this child’s life with power and grace.
Every person you meet today was once spoken into existence by God’s loving voice. Every person you meet today was once given a name by someone who loved them and had hope for their future. Every person you meet today offers you an opportunity to affirm the power of your own name — because when we are confident and free in our self-understanding, we naturally draw others into a circle of hospitality. And certainly, the opposite is true. When someone constantly treats others disrespectfully – renaming them according to his/her own prejudices – that person is revealing so much about their own lack of self-worth.
That little girl offers us a beautiful suggestion for the dawning of respect: “Why don’t we just tell each other our names?” As we remember the heartache of September 11th, may her innocent wisdom inspire our resolve for peace and justice.
God’s mercies never cease, nor compassion ever fail. They are renewed every morning, so great is God’s faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23
Dear Friends,
Welcome to the new generation of Lavish Mercy. The first generation, which comprised nearly ten years of material, has been archived for future use. For those who have been with me over the past decade, thank you. For all newcomers, you are very welcome.
God’s Mercy creates, enthuses, invites, and sustains all of us. As I reflect on that gift in my own life, I enjoy sharing those reflections with you. I try to post about every 7-10 days.
I hope you find spiritual nourishment in this blog. All my reflections and artwork are free for you to use and reproduce in any way you wish. The only remuneration I request is that we pray for one another, and do our best to be Mercy in the world.
God bless us all, Sister Renee Yann, RSM
For the legal part: I am a Sister of Mercy, and this is my personal blog. The opinions within are mine and do not (necessarily) reflect those of any community to which I belong.
Inspired by Labor Day, I am taking on a real labor!
Beginning tonight, I will be shutting down Lavish Mercy for website maintenance, removing material from previous years to edit for future publication, and redesigning the website for a fresh look.
Lavish Mercy has been up for almost ten years. It’s time for a refresh!
I hope to have everything ready in a week or so. Please be patient and stay with me.
DavidRock Design Free for use under Pixabay Content License
Labor Day was first celebrated on September 5, 1882, in New York City with a parade organized by the Central Labor Union. It became an official federal holiday on June 28, 1894, when President Grover Cleveland signed legislation establishing the first Monday in September as a national holiday. (Wiki)
The day may invite us to reflect on many things:
the final celebrations of summer
the beginning of a new school year and all its possibilities
the responsibilities that accompany a changing season
the meaning of labor and work in our lives and in our society
It is that final point that deserves our attention today.
by Arthur Silvaa Free for use under Pixabay Content License
When we picture the American worker, we often imagine members of the labor force represented by unions: teachers, nurses, sanitation workers, police officers, and countless others whose efforts sustain our communities.
For me, Labor Day brings to mind my father, a safety-awarded truck driver for Cooper-Jarrett. With a Teamsters pin on his cap, he often left for work before dawn. I remember him returning home exhausted at times, yet deeply satisfied by the work he had accomplished. He valued his union membership, and when he was seriously injured in a workplace accident, the protections it provided became an economic lifeline for our family.
Photo by Ronald Plett Free for use under Pixabay Content License
I also think of relatives whose livelihoods were not protected by union membership:
my mother who, before I was born, spent years as a Bell Telephone operator;
my grandfather and uncles who worked on the production lines of the Budd Company
my great-grandmother who, like many Irish immigrants, labored in a nineteenth-century textile mill.
Their stories instilled in me a deep respect for honest work and a pride in belonging to a working family. Like many young people of my generation, I eagerly obtained my working papers as soon as I turned fourteen. I went on to earn a whopping $1.10 an hour for the next four years! I suspect many readers can tell similar stories.
Yet the world I have just described is a world of the past. It belongs to the age of the Industrial Revolution and its aftermath. Today, the realities of labor and work are being reshaped by extraordinary advances in science and technology. Amid such rapid change, the human person needs an anchor.
from vaticannews.va
During the immense upheaval of the Industrial Revolution, Pope Leo XIII provided such an anchor through his landmark 1891 encyclical Rerum Novarum. Addressing the conditions faced by workers, while articulating enduring principles of Catholic social teaching, the document emphasized the dignity of the human person, the rights of laborers, and the demands of justice. More than a century later, its wisdom continues to shape moral and social discourse throughout the world.
from vaticannews.va
As we observe Labor Day 2026, we should turn our attention to Pope Leo XIV’s recent encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, published this past spring. Just as Leo XIII addressed the challenges of industrialization, Leo XIV applies the enduring insights of Catholic social teaching to a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and emerging technologies.
Many of you have had a chance over the summer to give the encyclical the careful and prayerful reflection it deserves. For me, three passages, in particular, speak powerfully to the meaning of work and human dignity in our own time. It might be best not to read them all at once, but to take one to ponder each day this week.
Leo XIII’s Encyclical Rerum Novarum constitutes a milestone in the development of the Church’s social teaching. The document places the dignity of work and of workers at the forefront of its reflection; affirms the right to a fair wage for oneself and one’s family; recognizes that persons have a fundamental value that takes precedence over capital and profit; defends private property along with its indispensable societal role; esteems workers’ associations; and proposes forms of cooperation between the different components of society as an alternative to the mentality of class struggle. It is not surprising, then, that Pius XI defined it as the “ Magna Carta” [25] of Christian social action. In Rerum Novarum, the Church’s ancient wisdom regarding the human person and life in society took on a new form capable of responding to the industrial age and offering the first major systematic framework for the Social Doctrine that would be further developed in the following decades. While many of the historical conditions described by Leo XIII have changed, at least two insights remain highly relevant today: the primacy of human labor over any mindset focused solely on finance or productivity — with the consequent attention to the people and families most susceptible to exploitation — and the inseparable link between proclaiming the Gospel and pursuing a more just social order. Rerum Novarum thereby continues to remind us that there is no authentic evangelization that does not also affect the structures of human society. (Magnifica Humanitas, 30)
Having recalled the principles that shine a light on Social Doctrine, I would now like to focus on certain challenges that profoundly shape our way of living today. The biblical image accompanying these reflections is that of a building project. On the one hand, there is the Tower of Babel, where collective effort follows a plan that dominates and ultimately dehumanizes (cf. Gen 11:1-9). On the other hand, there are the ruins of Jerusalem, which under Nehemiah’s direction are rebuilt piece by piece as a project of shared responsibility (cf. Neh 2–6). We are called to reflect on the great “construction sites” of our era and ask: What are we building? As technological development rapidly transforms languages, relationships, institutions and forms of power, we believers must and can choose which projects to work on and in what manner, so as to safeguard and value the grandeur of humanity that has been given to us as a gift. This is a choice not only for our future but also for our present, since artificial intelligence and other emerging technologies are already part of our daily lives. (Magnifica Humanitas, 90)
I am convinced that the concrete way of living out social relationships in the light of the Gospel is not established once and for all, but remains a task entrusted, from generation to generation, to the Christian community. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the Church allows herself to be enlightened by God’s word, reads the signs of the times and creatively seeks new ways for relationships between peoples and nations to become ever more conformed to the demands of the Kingdom of God. [118] For this reason, I encourage all members of the Church not to be afraid of the present challenges, but to listen to one another and firmly embrace their responsibilities in building a more humane and fraternal society.(Magnifica Humanitas, 91)
These passages remind us that the Church’s concern for workers has never been limited to wages, working conditions, or economic systems. At its heart, Catholic social teaching frames these concerns: What does it mean to be human, to be a creature of God, to live in the community of Creation?
These questions become increasingly urgent as artificial intelligence transforms communication, employment, education, healthcare, commerce, and even our understanding of human relationships. The challenge facing the human community is critical – that of ensuring that technological progress remains at the service of the human person and the Creation we share.
In the encyclical, the image of two construction projects—the Tower of Babel and the rebuilding of Jerusalem—is especially compelling. Every generation is called to participate in the unfolding of Creation. Will the contribution of this generation diminish human dignity or strengthen it; will it isolate people or unite them; will it serve only power and wealth, or will it promote the universal common good?
Labor Day offers an ideal moment to reflect on those questions. It reminds us that work is never merely about productivity. Work is about people, families, communities, and human flourishing. It is about participating in God’s ongoing work of creation.
While researching this article, I came across the U.S. Department of Labor’s Hall of Honor, which recognizes notable figures associated with the American labor movement. One individual who particularly caught my attention was Frances Perkins, whose remarkable life I recently encountered in Stephanie Dray’s excellent novel, Becoming Madame Secretary. Perkins’s story has inspired me to learn more about other leaders who helped shape the rights and protections many workers enjoy today. Perhaps some readers may wish to undertake that exploration as well.
To learn more about notable figures in the American labor movement, visit the U.S. Department of Labor Hall of Honor.
Happy and blessed Labor Day to all of you, and let us pray for these blessings for all, no matter their citizenship, who work hard every day to support their families and communities.
Many things live, not just the plants, animals and humans that grace our world. Memories and promises live. Vows live. Unlike our physical life, these less tangible realities become stronger with time. Tales of valor and achievement live, often becoming epic with the passing of the years.
Mercy lives too, blessing not only the current receiver, but the unseen generations to whom it is passed.
Every morning, old fears and new hopes wake up within us all. They vie with each other to become the engines of our lives. The happy ones among us have learned to let hope win.
Mother Patricia Waldron outside Merion’s chapel building, holding a flower. circa 1915
On this date August 22, 1861, a small group of just such happy, hopeful people came to Philadelphia. On that hot August afternoon, the first Philadelphia Sisters of Mercy, led by 26-year old Patricia Waldron, arrived at Broad Street Station in North Philadelphia. They carried no worldly possessions. They came with only a dream for Mercy. It was a dream so alive in them that it still inspires us today, 161 years later.
Can’t you see them standing on the busy platform, the hissing steam trains encircling them in mist? They must have felt “be-misted” themselves, these mostly Irish country girls engulfed in a big city.
Union troops heading south crowded the platform. Busy Broad Street crackled with news of the burgeoning national strife. Lincoln himself would visit the city in the coming weeks.
And hidden within the seams of this bustling city’s garment lay the poor – the ones for whom they had come. How to reach them? How to help them change their lives?
Ranging from sixteen to twenty-seven years old, these brave young women had been charged with establishing a kind of “new nation” themselves – not of politics, but of mercy. No doubt they, like the young stout-hearted soldiers surrounding them, were also a little weak-kneed. They too had their battles to face. They too would see starvation, illness, attack and death – but their spirits would endure for the sake of the Mercy dream, God’s dream for the poor.
Mercy Cemetery – Merion, PA
Enduring dreams begin with small first steps. So, hailing a horse-drawn carriage, Mother Patricia Waldron led her young band to their new lives. At first, they lived in a small house in Assumption Parish, Philadelphia.
Not too much later, the growing band moved to the venerable Broad Street Convent, now of happy memory.
Convent of Mercy – Broad Street and Columbia Avenue, Philadelphia
Thus, on this date, Mother Patricia and her companions began the grace-filled saga many of us know so well and of which we are a part today. Their dream lives in us who love Mercy:
in our continued effort to find those who are poor and sick in a world that ignores them
in our choice to be compassionate in a world that often chooses violence
in our commitment to care in a world of treacherous indifference
On that sultry August day 1861, and on this one 2022, people have choices to make. They have vows and promises to keep. Some choices live forever. In the name of Mercy, what will you choose today?
Sister Jeanette Goglia conducts “Circle of Mercy” at the Sesquicentennial celebration at Philadelphia’s Kimmel Center.
Click white arrowhead above to hear Circle of Mercy
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 85. But I need to tell you the truth. My mind will go only one place this morning, so that’s where my prayer needs to go too. Happily, parts of Psalm 85 will go there with me!
On a mid-October Monday ten years ago, I had the biggest night of my life! It was a night bursting with joy, gratitude, wonder, delight, amazement, hope and love.
On that night, October 18, 2010, the Sisters of Mercy, and our Mercy Family, celebrated the 150th Anniversary of our Philadelphia Foundation. And we did it in grand fashion with an unforgettable concert at the Kimmel Center!
Musicians, dancers, and artists from our many Mercy ministries pooled their talents in a festival of song. Creative gifts from sewing to carpentry helped weave the story into beautiful unity.
The magnificent Kimmel organ gladly responded to the artistry of Sister Marie Ann Ellmer. And that polished Steinway sang out “Mi Mancherai” under the virtuoso touch of Ms. Karen Benedetti.
Ms. Karen Benedetti
(I have no recording of Ms. Benedetti’s performance, but here is the composer playing his beautiful piece. She did it even more beautifully!)
The amazing directorial talents of two Mercy Associates shaped the energy into a perfect whole.
Ms. Kimberly Baxter and Ms. Patricia Brown
And nine graced and gifted Sisters spoke the sacred story with the fullness of their beautiful Mercy hearts.
I know many of my readers were in attendance and have their own echoing remembrances of that glorious night.
I can share only a few tidbits of memory here. But you may enjoy praying with some of these thoughts where, for me this morning:
Mercy and truth meet; justice and peace kiss. Beauty springs out of the earth, and Love gazes from heaven.
Psalm 85: 11-12
In a creative effort, the following are inspirations we thought the original founders might offer the Sisters of Mercy and Mercy Family, if they were speaking to us today:
We clearly knew and trusted that the dream in us was God’s dream for wounded world.
Mother Patricia Waldron Played by Mimi Connor, RSM
We heard God’s Voice and held God’s hand and we stepped out in faith to do the work of love.
Sister Marie Madeleine Matthey-Doret Played by Suzanne Neisser, RSM
The care of the sick was a ministry I loved. I dispensed it with every tenderness knowing that I tended the wounds of Christ.
Sister Mary Philomena Hughes Played by Mary Hentz, RSM
You have shaped the Word of Mercy so that it can be heard by the rainbow of God’s People throughout the earth. And it has returned to you twice blessed by their humble, loving welcome.
Sister Mary Francis de Sales Geraghty Played by Mary Klock, RSM
Our hope is just to know that someone speaks your Name in Mercy and justice, and will return to speak it once again.
Sister Mary Ann Coveney played by Diane Guerin, RSM
It was our joy to find the waiting face of Christ among the poor.
Sister Mary Rose Davies Played by Marie Carolyn Levand, RSM
It is through prayer that we grow eternally young even as we age. It is through prayer that we can transcend our burdens and are enfolded in the Providence of God. In prayer, we become free. In prayer, we become whole.
Sister Mary Angela Curtin Played by Connie Haughton, RSM
Through the years, I have seen you embrace the misunderstood and the vulnerable. I know that in the mysterious way of God, you have found great joy in that embrace.
Sister Mary Veronica O’Reilly Played by Eileen Sizer, RSM
My soul was deep like the midnight sky. But stars blazed from my depths to lead others to holiness.
Mother Mary Gertrude Dowling Played by Kathleen Mary Long, RSM
Music: The Circle of Mercy – Jeanette Goglia, RSM (the Maestro is visible above conducting from the central platform.)
… when I read in the paper yesterday that Mercy Philadelphia Hospital will be closing its inpatient services afterjust over 100 years of service. For a little over a decade of those years, I was part of the amazing reality we called “Mis”.
No one can define how it got to be such a mysteriously magical place – full of life, death, trauma, healing, angst and love. But as we all churned and deepened in those currents, we came to know a secret: Mercy Enfleshed.
Sr. Jean Loftus and Handsome Neighbor
It was a mission born in the Sisters of Mercy and, by the grace of God, enkindling generations of co-ministers in the exercise of compassion.
Nobody owned the secret. Parts of it belonged to the Sisters, the nurses, doctors, administrators, ancillary staff, patients, community advocates. It was like a huge kite that could never fly unless we all held tight to our part of its magic cord.
And the miracle was that we all did.
It wasn’t perfect. No life of 100 Years is. But, by God, it was magnificent – because it was always fueled by the intention to do the the best we could for the love of God and neighbor.. even down to creating world-famous crab cakes for the patients!
Sister Mary Protase’s Famous Crab Cakes
When the news hit Facebook yesterday, beloved names began to emerge in the comments. Oh how those comments blessed me as my heart was breaking a little (no, a lot). I was reminded that the inpatient services may cease, but the mission lives in these and so many other hearts. There was a permanent joy in that:
I will always have a special fondness for that place. I love the building. I loved the people that work there and long lasting friendships that I made. Nothing else has compared since.
Truly the most amazing, loving and always challenged hospital. My memories are from my childhood and happy to say a good part of my adult life. I can’t imagine how the Sisters of Mercy are feeling,as much of their legacy lives in the stone and marble that has always quietly embraced so many of us.
This place shaped my life. Really sad.
“Mis” was one of the best periods of my life.So much history there and so many friendships.
I have many personal experiences with the wonderful colleagues who worked there during the many years I worked at Mercy Health System – some of the most dedicated, caring, compassionate, healthcare professionals I have ever met. I am sure the Sisters of Mercyare heartbroken since Mercy Philadelphia occupies such an important place in their legacy in the Philadelphia area. My thoughts and prayers are with all the patients and colleagues at Mercy Philadelphia and especially the community it serves.
Original Charter signed by Foundress Mother Patricia Waldron
My heart is broken. I graduated from Misericordia nursing school in 1969 and proceeded to work for the Sisters of Mercy for 43 years….along side some of the most compassionate and dedicated nurses, physicians, and employees. Misericordia means “mercy from the heart” and it was mercy and love that lived within that beautiful building. Memories of all the wonderful people past andpresent have come flooding back….in my life I have loved them all. Some became dear friends who continue in my life….years after retiring. I know my dear Sisters must be heartbroken for the community it served for over 100 years in West Philly.
Very sad for those who work there now and for the people of the community. All of the comments posted capture what many of us who worked at “Mis” feel. It helped shape us, reflected true mercy through the tremendous staff who cared for so many over the years and brought people into our lives who continue to touch us. It was always hard work, but we found joy and laughter as we supported each other and cared for those who arrived and touched our lives. That spirit liveson. As my first head nurse, just said….it was mercy and love that lived within that building.
Original building – 1918
And oh, how hundreds of names, faces, and souls came to pray with me! Nurses who taught me, patients I loved, Sisters I miss so much, friends who laughed and cried with me, leaders who braved through insurmountable challenges – and most of all, our patients and families who put their lives in our hands and knew we would love them the very best we could.
Chapel Windows – Mercy Hospital
But I know time moves on, and we must let it. Still, I pray about my joyous sorrow today with an excerpt from a book I was privileged to write just before the Centenary:
For nearly 100 years, Mercy Hospital has anchored a sycamore-shaded block of West Philadelphia. Within its solid walls, generations have been born, healed, and accompanied in their dying. The hospital’s enduring presence and service speak an abiding dependability to the community it serves. Still, in contrast to its proven permanence, Mercy Hospital began as a dream, first in the mind of God, and then in the hearts of Mother Patricia Waldron and Archbishop Edmond Prendergast.
On October 24, 1915, this dream commenced with the hospital groundbreaking at 54th and Cedar Avenue in West Philadelphia. Despite the frailties of age and declining health, Mother Patricia wasable to attend the ceremony. Although she died before the hospital opened, on that cool and pleasant afternoon, she was surrounded by those who would carry her dream to reality. They stood with Mother Patricia Waldron in a desolate lot, an abandoned farm with but a single, scrawny tree to suggest the possibility of new life.
The history of Misericordia Hospital, now known as Mercy Philadelphia Hospital and of her subsequent sister institutions, is marked by a long line of noble, even heroic, leadership and labor. It is impossible to capture fully a century of these names and legacies. Several, by their significant and enduring contributions, will be noted ….
For the rest, may an awe-filled gratitude serve to acknowledge their selfless contributions now wrapped in time’s anonymity.
