Mother Katharine Drexel

by Cheryl C. D. Hughes

  Despite his admonishments to her, Bishop O’Connor recognized his position as her spiritual adviser: “I take full responsibility for having ‘kept you out of the convent’ till now. The more I reflect on the matter, the more I am persuaded that you are where God wishes you to be at present. Should I see any certain indications of his will that you should enter religion, I shall not fail to direct your attention to them.”54 The bishop strongly believed Katharine Drexel’s philanthropic work on behalf of the Indian tribes to be of the utmost importance in God’s divine providence. “ ‘A little help,’ now, may keep the Indians on [the reservations] from total extinction.”55 Extinction was a real possibility for many of the tribes that had been severely reduced in number by disease, war, and famine. The once-mighty Huron tribe and the Oto Indians each had fewer than 400 members at the end of the nineteenth century.

  Vocation Acknowledged

  Because the bishop explicitly took responsibility for her place in the world, she was able, however briefly, to give herself over to his guidance: “Here is your child, spare her no point. Make her, according to the strength which God gives her, and instrument for the ad majorem Dei Gloriam [to the greater glory of God]. It seems to me that I can never be made such an instrument unless you discipline me.”56 However, by late autumn, Louise was engaged to be married to Edward Morrell, and Katharine was in rebellion against herself and against her spiritual director.

  Rt. Rev’d and dear Father: —

  I am reduced to reading over all the letters you ever wrote me on the subject of my having no vocation for the religious life. I entreat you, for God’s sake re-consider the matter and see if our Lord will not give me the grace to enter the more perfect state — the religious state. . . .

  As it now is, I am perpetually in trouble of soul, warring as it were with my better nature. The peace which I felt last year in obeying you, gives me an assurance that the same peace and security would overshadow me in obeying a superior. I did not renew my vow of obedience to you . . . (emphasis added).

  Please, Rt. Rev’d Father, read over this accompanying letter of your own written more than five years ago, — five years in the world has caused me to drop the “positive personal reasons for not embracing the religious life.” 1st — separation from family costs little. 2nd. I have not at present, 1888, as much dislike for community life as I have a dislike for social intercourse with those in the world with whose aspirations I do not feel in sympathy. To be thrown into company with those whose interests are in the world, and whose daily strivings are for the world. . . . This I dislike. I love and revere the society of those whose business in life is simple, — viz.: that of knowing God and loving God, and of serving Him. If Our Lord permits me to choose in this vocation of mine, I choose the religious state, firmly resolved, with God’s help, to bear privations and poverty, “monotony of religious life,” and obedience to even an unreasonable superior (when such is the case) — to bear these for the sake of Him to Whom they lead. Vanity of vanity, all is vanity, except knowing, loving, and serving God. This alone can bring peace to my soul. . . .

  . . . I am so afraid Our Lord will reject me on account of my unworthiness. Up to this point I have not dared to ask Our Lord to give me a religious vocation. I have said “May the most just, high, and adorable Will of God be done.” If I have not this religious vocation can I pray and have prayers said for it? In your charity please pray for

  Your child in Dno., K. M. Drexel57

  This was such an anguished letter that Katharine could not bring herself to mail it to the bishop, her friend and adviser for so many years. She had not previously acknowledged to Bishop O’Connor that she had not renewed her vow of obedience to him. Perhaps it was an action she at first simply put off but later found she could not in good conscience continue. Two weeks later, she was in an even greater state of angst concerning her vocation; she was willing to risk open rebellion against Bishop O’Connor should he continue to maintain that she did not have a true vocation to the religious life. She felt so certain of her direction in life that she was willing to follow it on her own, in spite of what he might caution to the contrary.

  May I trouble you to read the enclosed. It was written more than two weeks ago and I had stamped it ready for sending to you, then concluded to wait. The sentiments in it remain the same, and have remained the same, only I am suffering greater anxiety lest Our Lord should deprive me of a life near Him, in union with Him. My God! What can I desire better than this. “If thou wilt be perfect. . . .” I will it. Our Lord’s words ring in my ears. How I wish to spend the rest of my life entirely given to Him, devoted to Him by the three vows which would happily consecrate me to Jesus Christ. This night I feel a sadness out of which it is difficult to rally. Several times during our trip out West, I remember you said to me with an amused expression, “What makes you look so sad?” My heart indeed was sad, is sad, because in your judgement I am condemned to living in a world whose ways I detest. I cannot say “Deus meus, et Omnia” [my God and my all] as long as I am not consecrated to Our Lord. As He is, or as I desire Him truly to be “my All,” I wish to love Him in poverty, chastity, and obedience. I wish to give Him “all,” relying that He Who loves me will become “all” to me. It appears to me Our Lord gives me a right to choose the better part, and I shall try to draw as near His Heart as possible, that He may so fill me with His love, that all the pains I may endure in the religious life may be cheerfully endured for the sake of Jesus, the Lord of Love. — Do not, Rev’d Father, I beseech you say “What is to become of your work?” What is to become of it when I shall give it all to Our Lord? — Will Our Lord at the Day of Judgement condemn me for approaching as near Him as possible by following Him, and then leaving my yearly income to be distributed among the Missions, or for the Missions in some way that I am sure could be devised if only Our Lord will free me from all responsibility save that of giving myself to Him. . . . Joyfully I shall run to Him. I am afraid to receive your answer to this note. It appears to me, Rev’d Father, that I am not obliged (emphasis added) to submit my judgement to yours, as I have been doing for two years, for I feel so sad in doing it, because the world cannot give me peace, so restless because my heart is not rested in God. Will you, Rev’d Father, please pardon the rudeness of this last remark, in view of this, — that I am trying to tell you the truth. . . .

  P.S. I intend to try and grow in love of Our Lord, so that all sacrifices in the religious life will be cheerfully endured. . . . In your charity, Rt. Rev’d Father, pray that I may do God’s holy Will now and always.58

  The date on this letter is Katharine’s thirtieth birthday. At thirty, she must have felt that it was time to stop her vocational drifting and settle on her life’s work. It was unity with God, her “All,” and not the unity of the “All Three” that was her chief concern. Her youngest sister, Louise, whose social life Katharine had fretted over and manipulated, was undertaking her own vocation as wife and mother. Louise’s marriage to Edward Morrell was set for January 17, 1889, just a few weeks hence. Surely, most people thought that Katharine would soon follow suit and be happily married. The closely knit circle of the “All Three” would be unalterably broken. In her letter, Katharine maintained that it was her right to choose the calling she felt best for herself and reminded the bishop that she was no longer under an obligation to follow his direction in the matter of her vocation. It was settled in her mind that she would join an order of nuns and become a complete sponsa Christi, and all she truly asked of him were his approbation and his prayers. His response was immediate:

  I had come to regard it as certain that Our Lord had chosen you for Himself, but, for reasons with which you are familiar, I inclined to think He wished you to love and serve Him as His spouse, but in society. This letter of yours, and your bearing under the long and severe tests to which I subjected you, as well as your entire restoration to health, and the many spiritual dangers that surround you, make me withdraw
all opposition to your entering religion. In all that has passed between us in regard to your vocation, my only aim and anxiety have been to help you discover God’s will in the matter, and that, I think, is sufficiently manifest. Something, too, which I heard, when in the east, a couple of weeks ago, of well-meant plans made by your own flesh and blood to entangle you and Lizzie in mere worldly alliances, confirms me in this view of the case. A vocation like any other grace, may be lost, and those who have it should not be too much exposed, or expose themselves needlessly.

  The only matter that now remains to be determined is, which order you should choose? Have you a decided preference for some of them? . . .

  There are three orders the rules of which it would be worth your while to examine: The Sacred Heart, the Sisters of Mercy, and the Ursulines of Brown County, Ohio. . . . Don’t be impatient. The matter to be considered is a serious one for you, so let your motto be: Festina Lente.59

  How quickly Bishop O’Connor capitulated to Katharine’s calling to a religious vocation when finally she was willing to go against his command to remain in the world serving God as a single woman. Lynch suggests that the main reason for the bishop’s turn of mind was that Katharine’s uncle Anthony Drexel “was planning a financially advantageous marriage for her with a non-Catholic.”60 Because of Francis Drexel’s will, his daughters’ husbands could not inherit their trust funds, but the husbands could certainly influence their wives on how to spend their yearly income. A non-Catholic husband could adversely affect how the Drexel money was spent, diverting Drexel money away from Catholic causes and charities. This would obviously be a tremendous loss for the Church missions for blacks and Native Americans. “Bishop O’Connor . . . knew this one woman [Katharine Drexel] endowed the western missions more generously than the entire American Catholic community.”61 As late as 1902, Katharine Drexel, then Mother M. Katharine, SBS, funded almost 60 percent of the activities of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, not to mention the monies she gave the missions run by the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament.62 Had Katharine married, the fate of the Indians might have been very different. Both President Grant and Bishop O’Connor believed that the Native Americans faced extinction without missionary help. Katharine was almost single-handedly supporting the Catholic missions. Therefore, her marriage to anyone, but especially to a non-Catholic, might have had disastrous effects on the people she had been helping. On the other hand, her entry into certain congregations of sisters or orders of nuns could also have a profound effect on her ability to control her trust funds.63

  The usual procedure for one entering a cloistered convent of nuns was to endow the convent with all one’s wealth. Katharine, who had at one time yearned for the nun’s cloistered life of prayer and meditation, no longer wanted the life of silence. She rejected Bishop O’Connor’s proffered orders. She wrote him, “I want a missionary order for Indians and for Colored People.”64 She and her Philadelphia confessor were looking into the Franciscans and the Benedictines, whom she admired. Her main criteria for a community were that it allowed daily Communion, that it served the needs of blacks and Indians, and that it was not too strict for her. Once she decided which community of sisters to join, she would make provisions for the disposal of her annual trust income. Bishop O’Connor continued to counsel her on her options.

  There remains [sic] the Benedictines and the Franciscans. For reasons some of which I will give you when I see you next month, I beg you not to bestow a thought on the former. All religious institutes, or rules are good, as they have the approbation of the Church, but all orders are not, for not all live up, even fairly well, to their rule. To enter an inobservant order is not only to fail to find the helps to perfection which such organizations should afford, but almost to insure the loss of even ordinary piety. The Franciscans of Philadelphia, and in most places, are, I have every reason to believe, laborious, devoted women. But, then, they are not ladies. . . . But you should bear in mind that for a lady of your antecedents, position, and habits, to be able to pass her whole life in the most intimate, daily and hourly intercourse with women of the peasant class, would require a fortitude that is vouchsafed to very few indeed. . . . The order of grace, should, as far as possible harmonize with the order of nature. Unless where God clearly and unmistakenly demand [sic] the sacrifice, no one should do life-long violence to her natural instincts and habits.

  He recommended the Order of Mercy. “There is no better community in the Church than the Mercy Community of Pittsburgh . . . there is no place I should be as well pleased to see you enter as there. I know that community thoroughly, and I can recommend it without the slightest hesitation.”65

  The Sisters of Mercy, who also had a convent in Philadelphia, had served in some of the Indian missions of the bishop’s diocese. Furthermore, his brother, Michael O’Connor, the first bishop of Pittsburgh, had brought the first Sisters of Mercy from Ireland to America to establish their convent in his diocese. His cautions about the Benedictines, if true, were certainly sound. His concerns about the Franciscans did not cause Katharine to count them out. However, she was again beginning to feel the pull of her original attraction to the cloistered life. She first wanted to rid herself of her temporal affairs.

  Katharine’s plan for divesting herself of the responsibility of her income from her father’s estate was for the Church to organize a Bureau for Colored and Indian Missions in Washington, D.C. This new bureau would be funded not only by her personal income, but also by an annual, nationwide, special collection on the second Sunday of Lent.66 The day-to-day functions of the bureau would be handled by a professional staff, but its oversight would be the responsibility of a board made up of five bishops. The problems of the Native Americans were so severe that Katharine dreaded leaving their fate to the mercy of a large or general assembly of bishops: “I fear such an assembly of Bishops would not think of the importance of the Indian. — There are 7 million colored people in the U.S. and only 600,000 Indians. I would have to devise some method to save these 600,000 souls so that the interests of the colored 7 million would not prevent the speedy help which these 600,000 Indians require in order to fit them for the opening of their reservations in 25 short years. — The Colored question may press, but does it press to the same extent as the Indian Question? May God enlighten!”67

  Founding a New Order

  Katharine wanted to dispose of her income and to enter a convent immediately, there to discern further the direction her life in religion must take. Bishop O’Connor told her to allow her sisters to administer her income until she took her vows. Little did she suspect that O’Connor would have another and greater demand yet to make of her. He had become convinced that she should found a new order exclusively for Indians and colored people. His first letter to mention this plan is missing, so we are not privy to his reasoning. When he second mentioned it, he wrote, “Why then, should you hesitate [to found a new order], unless you mean to be your own guide in the matter?”68 He knew it would be a tremendous challenge to her, but he was fully convinced of its importance for both Katharine and the races she desired to help. Then he laid before her the greatest challenge of her life.

  The more I have thought of your case the more convinced I become that God has called you to establish an order for [the Indian and colored people]. The need for it is patent to everybody. All the help the established orders can give in the work will be needed, but a strong order devoted to it exclusively is also needed. You have the means to make such an establishment. Your social position will draw to it subjects and friends without number. God has put in your heart a great love for the Indian and the Negroes. He has given you the taste and the capacity for the sort of business which such a foundation would bring with it. All these things point more clearly, than an inspiration or a revelation could, to your duty in the premises. . . .

  Reflect carefully on what I have told you, and let me know your objections to my decision in your case.69

 
The bishop was most emphatic with Katharine because he feared that her headstrong, willful nature would take precedence over her spiritual side. Even though her friend the director of the Bureau of Catholic Indian Missions, Philadelphia Archbishop Patrick John Ryan, along with Father Joseph Stephan and her spiritual adviser, agreed that Katharine should found a new order, Katharine herself had, as O’Connor knew she would, grave misgivings about such an important step.

  She responded with great distress to the thought of founding a new order.

  1st. I have never decided whether a life devoted to prayer and contemplation would not be more acceptable to God. . . . Then in the Contemplative Orders daily Communion is permitted and this is not the case in active Orders, and as one single Holy Communion gives Our Lord more pleasure, and God more glory than all the work and toil and labor for God, of all the men in the world, — then I feel that a Contemplative Life where daily Communion is usual, would give Our Lord more pleasure than if I were to devote myself to active life. . . .