29 November 1985
Emmitsburg, Maryland

My dear Sisters,

The first line of this morning's responsorial psalm was "Mountains and hills, bless the Lord," (Ps 148:4) and which of us does not think of mountains and hills when we think of Emmitsburg. We think of the valley that St. Elizabeth Ann loved so much. How can you have valleys without mountains and hills? Mountains speak loudly to us of God. It has been so since the psalmist wrote his psalms and long before that. Mountains are great and majestic, as God is great and majestic. When man looks at the massiveness of the mountains, he thinks of God, and how small is man by comparison. "What is man that You should be mindful of him?" (Ps 8:5). Mountains are imperturbable and unaffected by storms and the changing seasons. So, too, is God. He is unchanging. "O Lord You live forever. Long ago you created the earth and with your own hands, You made the heavens. They will disappear, but you will remain." (Ps 101:26-28). Or to express the same sentiment in Our Lord's words of today's Gospel, "The heavens and the earth will pass away, but my words will not pass." (Lk. 21:33). The mountains are always there. Generations and generations of people have looked at the mountain close by us. They have passed away, while it remains. So, too, God is always there, and, like the mountain, suggests permanence and strength. How often in the psalm does the psalmist say, "The Lord is my strength"? So, my dear Sisters, when you raise your eyes and look out at the mountain, think of God, His strength and His permanence. As the years pass, we become more and more conscious of the changing nature of all things in this world. Friends die and we feel how impermanent all things are. The mountain reminds us that God remains and will not abandon us. It was that thought that prompted the psalmist to pray in psalm 71 (a most appropriate psalm to read when you feel you are growing old and weak), "I have relied on You all my life. Now that I am old and my hair is grey, do not abandon me." (Ps 71:18).

But let me come down from the mountain and walk along that street in Paris, where on this day St. Louise gathered the first Daughters of Charity about her, and began to speak to them of the love which Jesus Christ had for them, and of how He wanted them to help Him in caring for His special friends, the poor. This is a Thanksgiving Day in the Company. There is a line in the psalms that speaks of the marvel of how one day after another speaks of the glory of God: "Day unto day takes up the story." (Ps 19:3). Yes, since the 29 November 1633, Sisters have been taking up the story of St. Louise and the work which, with St. Vincent, she began on that day, and have been passing it on to succeeding generations of Sisters. The Sisters are doing things today in Community and for the poor, because of what St. Louise said to those first Sisters. One generation of Sisters has been passing on to the next the traditions of the Community, and some go back to the very beginning of the Company. Yes, "day unto day takes up the story." (Ibid.). What can we say but "Thanks be to God for His mercy is from generation to generation." (Lk 1:50). Now that I have sounded the note of thanksgiving, let me continue the peal of bells ringing out thanksgiving. I want to thank you for all that you do for the Company, for the prayers and sufferings and acts of patience you offer to God on behalf of the poor and on behalf of the Company and, I must add, on my behalf. A thousand thanks! I know you will not forget that phrase in your Constitutions which states that praying in the name of the poor is the first duty of a Daughter of Charity. We count on your silent intercession with God and His mother that this Valley of Mother Seton will be blessed by vocations, so that until the end of time "Day unto day may take up the story" (Ps 19:3) of the great things God has done through Jesus Christ for His people.