Remembering Sisters Of Mercy Pat And Joann
Mr. President, earlier this year, Pope Leo XIV asked us to reflect on chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel. This passage details the questions that will be posed to determine the contents of a person's soul. They will be asked, ``How did you…
Mr. President, earlier this year, Pope Leo XIV asked us to reflect on chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel. This passage details the questions that will be posed to determine the contents of a person's soul. They will be asked, ``How did you receive the foreigner? Did you welcome him or not?'' At this moment of judgement, I know two people who would feel confident in their answer: Sisters of Mercy JoAnn Persch and Patricia Murphy. So well-known among immigration groups that they were known simply as ``the Sisters,'' these two women collectively spent nearly two centuries doing God's work here on Earth. Sadly, both sisters passed away earlier this year, leaving a legacy of strength, kindness, and grace.
Sister Pat was born on April 20, 1929, in Chicago, and Sister JoAnn was born on June 27, 1934, in Milwaukee. Although both women entered the Sisters of Mercy in Des Plaines at a young age, their paths would not converge until they both arrived to teach in Fox Point, WI. This meeting of two kindred spirits sparked a decades-long advocacy effort that began in the 1980s.
That was a period of violent upheaval in Central America's Northern Triangle. Civil wars and conflict in Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras were displacing thousands of people every month, and many of these refugees came to the United States to avoid persecution. But once these immigrants arrived in America, many of them
found the asylum system completely inaccessible. Mass rejections of asylum applications threatened to return immigrants to the violence they had just fled. Witnessing this injustice, the Sisters became involved with the immigrant sanctuary movement to demand that the United States protect immigrants from chaos in their home countries.
As the Sisters advocated for immigration reform, they simultaneously worked to provide charity and housing for those applying for asylum. In 1990, the Sisters established the Su Casa Catholic Worker House, a home for refugees in Chicago. The Sisters lived at Su Casa for 7 years, helping families and children fleeing war, torture, and unspeakable violence find a home in Chicago. Because this didn't keep them busy enough, during their time at Su Casa, the Sisters helped a single mother with a mental health condition raise her daughter. They became foster moms for 13-year-old Clarice, sharing their love while dropping her off at her dance class and song lessons.
The Sisters left Su Casa in 1997 to go to Casa Notre Dame, a different shelter that provided housing and protection to women fleeing domestic violence. Sister Pat was 68, and Sister JoAnn was 61. One would think, at this stage of their lives, these two sisters would want to slow down after what were already four decades of service to others. But only a few short years after arriving at Casa Notre Dame, the Sisters were asked to become justice coordinators with the Sisters of Mercy, taking on a larger leadership position in the movement for immigration reform.
In their role as justice coordinators, the Sisters were called one January day in 2007 to go to the Broadview ICE facility and pray for a group of detainees there who were to be deported from the United States. They arrived early in the morning, with temperatures plunging to negative 20 degrees, not that it would stop them. The two stood outside Broadview and prayed for the immigrants who were about to be deported. Seeing the grief and powerlessness experienced by these immigrants, the Sisters decided to return to Broadview every Friday and pray for its detainees. For more than 20 years, they honored this commitment. Through pouring rain and sweltering heat, the Sisters would be outside Broadview, offering support for immigrants and their families.
Soon after they began this mission, the Sisters walked up to the front doors at Broadview and rang the bell. They wanted to go inside to speak directly to the detainees and offer them comfort. Their request was quickly denied. But what the ICE employees did not know at the time was that these were two women who, peacefully and respectfully, never took no for an answer. Together, the Sisters founded the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants, or ICDI. This group ventured to Springfield the next year to lobby for the Access to Religious Ministry Act, a bill that would allow immigrant detainees in State and county facilities to consult with a religious worker regarding their spiritual needs. Less than a month after their visit to the State capitol, the bill passed both chambers unanimously.
As Sister Pat said, ``The divine and the sacred are the ordinary human things of life. It's love, life, death, eating, sleeping, socializing with people.'' I had the great fortune of going to Broadview with Sister Pat and Sister JoAnn where we shared in these sacred moments. As these immigrants' lives were turned upside, sometimes there was nothing to be done but offer our support, our prayer for their situation. The Sisters helped counsel hundreds of immigrants amid their grief and offer them what little comfort they could. Even the guards at Broadview grew to appreciate the Sisters' presence, and they began to invite the Sisters to some of their office parties. Very few people could leave an interaction with these two women without being touched by their love for humanity.
The decades of kindness that the Sisters showed immigrants, activists, and anyone in their path continues to leave a mark on Chicago. There are still dozens of people who show up outside of Broadview every day to offer prayer and hope for those inside. There are still those in Springfield and Washington, DC, who are fighting against the inhumane separation of immigrants from their lives and families. In their actions, the spirits of Sisters Pat and JoAnn live on. In each person's decision to welcome the stranger, the Sisters' memory is honored.