There is something powerful about remembering a person by name.
Each November, the Church gives us a particular invitation to remember—to speak the names of those who have gone before us, to tell their stories, to give thanks for their lives, and to entrust them again to the loving mercy of God. Here at St. Paul’s Monastery, that remembering is especially tangible.
Our cemetery holds the earthly remains of more than 200 Benedictine Sisters. Each headstone represents a life given to God and to others: Sisters who taught children, cared for the sick, served parishes, welcomed guests, prayed with those who were hurting, worked for justice, tended gardens, prepared meals, made music, balanced budgets, answered telephones, washed dishes, and did countless other things—some noticed and many known only to God.
Together, their lives tell the story of St. Paul’s Monastery.
But their legacy is larger than a list of ministries or accomplishments. These women lived a Benedictine way of life. Day after day, they returned to prayer. They listened. They practiced hospitality. They built community. They learned humility and patience. They cared for the things and people entrusted to them. They began again when necessary. And through those ordinary, faithful practices, they helped shape families, parishes, schools, neighborhoods, and communities far beyond the walls of this Monastery. We are their legacy!
We remember, too, our deceased Oblates who made this Benedictine way their own and carried it into their homes, workplaces, churches, and communities. Their lives remind us that the legacy of Benedictine spirituality has never belonged only within a monastery. It is meant to be lived—and shared. Since this time last year, we commended to the arms of our loving God: Sheila Boos, Mary Claire Lawless, and Margaret Barrett.
I experience this communion of saints in a very personal way. I often walk out to the cemetery to spend a little time with Mother Loraine, asking for her prayers and guidance. I also walk the rows of headstones, speaking the Sisters’ names aloud as I pass them. I ask these women—who prayed, worked, struggled, laughed, loved, and sought God in this place before us—to continue praying for all who come through the doors of St. Paul’s Monastery and the Benedictine Center today. There is something deeply comforting in remembering that we do not carry this mission alone. We stand on their shoulders, and we trust that their prayers still accompany the work entrusted to us.
That may be one of the most important reasons we remember our saints. Their lives—and their prayers—ask something of ours.
