St. Mother Theodore's example sows seeds of hope in difficult times

Historical accounts indicate that the 1840s and 1850s in the United States and in Indiana were periods of significant immigration from Catholic countries, driven by both economic hardships in Europe and the prospect of economic opportunities in the United States.

Massive immigration also created a critical need for social services, education and religious support, leading to the influx of many Catholic missionary groups of women, including the Sisters of Providence.

Unfortunately, this also sparked  rampant anti-Catholic sentiment, especially among native-born Protestants. They believed Catholics were a threat to American culture, values and institutions. This sentiment came to life most notably through the Know-Nothing Party, whose goals and beliefs included restricting immigration and naturalization, holding office for "native-born" Americans only, and limiting Catholic influence in schools.

Couple this anti-Catholic sentiment with the position of women in this country. In 1848, at the Seneca Falls Convention, activists like Elizabeth Cady Stanton called for women's suffrage and equal rights. Both these conditions created a perfect storm for our sisters and groups like us.

How did this play out in the life of the congregation that Theodore led?

For me, there is no stronger example than the fire of Oct. 2, 1842. For most of that year, the little Providence community struggled to make ends meet. Anti-Catholic sentiment influenced families to withdraw their children from our school, leading to a decline in enrollment in the boarding school and a significant loss of income. Creditors refused further credit. The bishop, who had promised to pay off the congregation's debts, used the money instead to improve their convent and build the new parish church. No wonder these years were called "The Years of Our Sorrow."

The 1842 planting season, however,  had yielded an abundant harvest. With their provisions tucked away safely in the barn, the Providence community celebrated the Feast of the Holy Angels and Mother Theodore's birthday on Oct. 2 in the peace of a retreat day. That peace was disturbed by a dreadful cry of a postulant, "Fire! Fire!"

What followed could have shaken the strongest spirit, especially when it was highly suspected that this fire appeared to be "the result of malice."

Out of the rubble of this fire and the loss of their provisions, I believe our St. Mother Theodore became an architect of hope.

The day after the fire, she wrote a letter to Mother Mary in France, describing their attempts to put out the fire:

We had no water, for we have neither well nor cistern; we take the water indispensable to us from a little spring which flows naturally and which scarcely suffices for the needs of the house; our only resource was the good God. I left everybody at work and went for a moment before our Lord to ask him to protect this house, which was confided to him and where he deigned to live; fortified and filled with confidence, I returned to the workers … Nearly all have some burns, but by a special Providence, no one was seriously injured. … Our wheat, our poor wheat, all beaten down, burned before our eyes.

She goes on to say that their house was saved and concludes, "The good God has preserved us. … and everything gives hope that the worst is over."

At the heart of her blueprint for hope was absolute trust in this good God.

Jesus proclaims that very truth in the Gospel reading we always read on her feast day, Oct. 3: "Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father (our good God) is pleased to give you the kin-dom."

The good God has preserved us; our good God will preserve us.

Mother Theodore hope was active. Her eye was on the mission, and she played an active role in advancing it. That was her blueprint. She did not let failure or hatred deter her from bringing the light of a loving, caring God into the wilderness.

Despite the community's dire circumstances, she continued the custom of their French foundresses to open a free school for poor children whenever they opened a school for children whose parents could afford to pay tuition. That first free school was in St. Mary's Village, Indiana.

She did not let anti-Catholic sentiment keep her from admitting non-Catholic children to her school. In an 1850 letter to her dear friend and confidante, Bishop Bouvier of LeMans, France, she says that there are always 600-700 pupils in their schools. About two-thirds are Catholic. Of the other third, she quips, "We might almost say that the other third are also Catholics."

I see Theodore's hope alive in her daily choices. Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone, authors of Active Hope, define hope as "active participation in creating a better future — a tool for resilience and empowerment, allowing individuals and communities to respond to difficult circumstances by transforming anxiety into purpose and action."

Mother Theodore's same letter to the bishop recounts her own anxieties. She writes that they were asked to take charge of boys at the orphanage because Fr. Sorin, leader of the Holy Cross congregation in Indiana, could not send brothers for this work. She admits, "I fear we shall not succeed … " then adds, "Well, we shall do our best." 

I often return to those words: "We shall do our best."

I want to make those words the blueprint for my hope. I want to take whatever anxiety I may have about all that is swirling around in my life and in our world and do my best to transform it into active hope — into purpose and action for the life of our world.

Mother Theodore reminds me that "… our hope is in the providence of God, which has protected us until the present, and which will provide, somehow, for our future needs."

May I help it be so.