Our History Celebrating 100 Years in Spokane

OUR MIDWESTERN ROOTS

Back in Omaha, Nebraska, the foundling Franciscan Monastery of Saint Clare watched with quiet maternal solicitude this small and struggling daughter-house beyond the Rockies, the third to be established directly from the parent trunk. Thirty-six years earlier, in 1878, after three weary and heart-rending years of setbacks and discouragement of all kinds, the venerable Foundress of the Poor Clares in the United States of America, Mother Mary Magdalen Bentivoglio and her blood sister, Mother Mary Constance, had sunk the roots of the Primitive Rule of St. Clare deep in the fruitful soil of the Midwest by establishing in Omaha the first monastery of the Primitive Observance.

The two lonely and bewildered Bentivoglio sisters had eventually found help in their struggle for acceptance by the bustling society of America of the 1870's. Cloistered contemplative nuns in the United States? Of what use were they? All right for Europe perhaps, but hardly the mold for this country! Even some members of the Catholic hierarchy considered the Poor Clares "out of tune" with the American way of life and did not hesitate to say so.

But out in Nebraska there was a Vicar Apostolic who was himself a pioneer, a man who knew privation and hardship, and who had tested also the invincible power of prayer and penance. This was Bishop James O'Connor. Without a cent himself and "with nothing to offer but good wishes," the Bishop nevertheless welcomed the cloistered Poor Clares to his see city, and gave permission for a permanent foundation to be built by the famous John Creighton the man whose abilities, determination and courage had made his name almost legendary in those times.

Twice, wrenching cyclones demolished the rising monastic structure; and Mother MaryMagdalen's spirit, plunged into blackest depths, knew Gethsemani's hour. "This cannot be God's will for us," she sobbed, seeing all her efforts fail. But her Jesuit confessor counseled patience. "No, Reverend Mother," came the serene advice, "stay where you are. God will take care of you. This is the work of the Evil One, who is jealous!"

Undismayed, the intrepid John Creighton had his word, too, laconic, conclusive:

Let the devil throw it down! What of it? I'm here to build it up again!

And build it he did!

Spokane sprang from hardy stock. True to the pattern, she too would wrestle with storm and blast. But that is to get ahead of our story.

It was July 22, 1914. A world crazed for power tottered on the precipice of the First World War. In faraway Rome a broken-hearted Pontiff, Pius X, pleaded with the chancelleries of Europe to avert the murderous carnage. A few days more, and the bullet which but a month before had snuffed out the life of the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo would ignite the globe.

But on the old Union Pacific, speeding eastward across the Cascades, four Poor Clare Nuns said their prayers in peace. Each sat alone with her thoughts, mindful in some way of the humble part that was hers in the great work beginning that day. Now and then an exclamation of anticipation broke the silence. But that was all. God's work is done in silence. Why should they be afraid? They were doing God's work.

OUR FIRST HOME ON DE SMET

These were the six humble women whom God planted as tiny grains of wheat in the fertile soil of Spokane for the building up of His Church. Strangers in a strange city, without money, without friends, knowing nothing of human influence, the fragile seeds would germinate and strike lasting roots in the Father's vineyard.

Nucleus of a great, though hidden, work, they would be wondrously comforted by an unwavering faith in God's promise: "Unless the grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it remains just one grain; but once it has died, it bears abundant fruit." So the work of God began. And it began in a rented house at 909 De Smet Avenue. The house looked big from the outside, but it was barely enough for monastic needs. The chapel was just a little room, the first encountered upon entering the house. There was no assured income, no salary, no wealthy backing, nothing but Divine Providence plus St. Joseph. Between them, they managed.

Accumulation of furniture was begun, prophetically enough, with brooms and scrubbing brushes brought by the storied Sister Oswalda of St. Joseph's Orphanage. This has been a classic in the community ever since. No matter where the Sisters went, they always managed a broom and a scrubbing brush to start the work. "Operation Scrubbing Brush" was barely under way at the De Smet convent one day when the doorbell rang. Mrs. Klegg, a poor widow whose name is enshrined forever in the community annals, stood outside. She told the Sisters that she was breaking up housekeeping. Would the Sisters like to have her dining room table and chairs, her range, dishes and silverware? Overcome with emotion, the Sisters blessed God and Mrs. Klegg! Surrounded by the grateful band of Franciscans, she stood there, His visible answer to their trusting prayers.

But that was not all. That same day, the first postulant, Frances Lount, arrived from Seattle. Now the family numbered seven, and hearts lifted in joyous thanksgiving.

On July 29, the house was ready, and the Sisters left St. Joseph's Orphanage for their own home. That midnight, the praise of God in the age-old prayer of Mother Church, the Divine Office, rose for the first time in the heart of the Inland Empire. It has continued without interruption, through trial and misfortune, ever since.

Poverty was at home on De Smet Avenue. Food was scarce and expensive; fuel was at a minimum, and Spokane winters were bitterly cold. The Sisters worked to support themselves by making altar breads, by sewing and laundry work. The ever-faithful Franciscan sisters at the Orphanage brought them extras, a cake on a feastday, a treat of fruit. Reverend Mother Mary Anthony Birmingham, the Omaha Abbess, kept a vigilant eye on her children in the Far West and sent them their first altar. The kindly Jesuits of Gonzaga watched over their spiritual needs and became their real friends. And on October 3rd the family was increased to eight when Mary Keogh, the future Sister Mary Clare, arrived as the first postulant for the Extern Sisterhood.

CHANGES IN THE CHURCH

In the succeeding years the Poor Clares struck deep roots in the Spokane community. Slow but sustained progress has marked their way. In 1932 the Minister General of the Franciscan Order, Father Bonaventura Marrani, O.F. M., sent from Rome the first copies of the new General Constitutions for the Order which effected the first updating of the Primitive Observance and the change of the religious habit. In 1950, by virtue of the Apostolic Constitution Sponsa Christi, Pope Pius XII restored to the orders of contemplative nuns the privilege of Solemn Vows and Papal Enclosure; and in 1956 this favor was accorded to the Spokane Poor Clares. 

Faithful to the spirit of the Second Vatican Council which invited all religious families to undertake the work of renewal and adaption, Spokane began a new phase on her Godward journey. Joining hands with her sister-monasteries in the United States and Western Canada, our community took part in the official organization of the Mother Bentivoglio Federation of Poor Clares which was designed to foster the spiritual and temporal development of the member-monasteries, to promote vocations, to provide for better religious and intellectual formation of their members and to encourage cooperation in matters of concern to the whole Order.

The years following Vatican II witnessed a concentrated effort on the part of the community to pay attention to the real situation in the Church and in the world, to a dynamic attempt to be sensitive to the constantly changing reality of the human situation and to have an effective love for contemporary life and for those who live in it. Community customs were revised and given new vitality; the monastic plant was completely remodeled; and most important of all, the Sisters focused attention on the spiritual renewal of our form of life which demanded a return to our wellsprings found in the Gospel and in the origins of our Order. In this way, fresh vigor was derived from the creative principles that gave life to the Order and the Sisters have been able to go beyond mere externals to live effectively the charisms of our Founders in the world today.

In some instances this process of renewal and adaption entailed a break with customs and rituals that had been formulated over the span of seven centuries and some of which went far afield from many of the Founders' original concepts. Breaking with tradition offers an adventure fraught with risk and sometimes, danger. The hoarier and more deeply entrenched the tradition, the greater the likelihood of resistance, the difficulty of enduring, and also, the risk of failure. Yet, every tradition begins when someone breaks with the previous way of doing things.

Francis and Clare of Assisi faced immense obstacles and even concerted opposition as they set out on what their contemporaries saw as a radical and foolish situation. Ironically, they felt that they were simply being true to an older and deeper tradition and one that had almost been lost sight of in the Church of their time. They "remade" tradition by a dauntless fidelity to a vision of life more fundamental than the social conventions of their time, the holy Gospel itself. Under the inspiration of God's Spirit, they succeeded in forming an original work which was remarkably balanced in its construction, inevitably precarious in its implementation and always in need of being directed anew toward its goal.