Mt Schoenstatt Shrine, Mulgoa, 13 September 2026
Twenty-five years ago this week, the September 11 terrorist attacks took the lives of 3,000 people, while the rest of the world looked on in horror. In the days that followed, people rarely seen in church came in droves, looking for somewhere to put their numbness and grief, fears and prayers. World leaders, reporters and others unaccustomed to religious language found themselves slipping naturally into it, as human beings so often do when trying to speak the unspeakable.
The horrific events of that day did more than just tear innocent people from their families and friends. Many felt helpless or angry or both. A new era of conflict followed in Afghanistan, Iraq and beyond. The so-called “war on terror” affected air travel, national security and public life the world over. Everyone felt more vulnerable, as we recognised that no one is immune to fanatics who do not care whom they kill. As the Book of Ecclesiasticus declares today, “Remember the last things… dissolution and death,” for these must surely come, even to you (cf. Sir 27:33-28:9).
A quarter century later, we have made little progress. War in the Middle East, hatred for the Christian West, insecurity at home, all are more common not less. The conflicts in Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan and elsewhere may have very different histories, but they all demonstrate Ben Sirach’s observation, “Resentment and anger, these things pollute us… unforgiving and vengeance resist God’s mercy.” How are we to regain reverence for life after the twentieth and bloodiest of centuries, in which more people were killed in war or civil strife than in all our previous history? How can we recover hope when our new century began with a 9-11? Are we doomed forever to wage unholy wars in the name of race or religion, of ideology or interest?
In today’s Gospel, Peter asks Jesus, “Lord, how often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me? As often as seven times?” (Mt 18:21-35). Living together in a kind of religious community, the Twelve Apostles had plenty of occasions to forgive each other (or not). Living in a world hostile to their beliefs, there were plenty of enemies to pardon also. But we all know how hard it is to forgive our loved ones, let alone strangers or foes. It is hard enough to forgive them once, let alone repeatedly. We are wounded. We nurse the grudge. Maybe we get a temporary energy out of hating. So we bring out our cause of resentment for regular veneration. Meanwhile evidence accumulates, as every little thing the offender does becomes further proof of their wickedness. Even their mannerisms annoy us. We attribute all sorts of dark motives. It is so hard to resist the waves of anger and temptation to retaliate. Even harder to swallow our pride and make some tentative gestures towards reconciliation.
Peter thought he was being generous in offering to forgive his mates as many as seven times. Rabbinical teachers of the time said we only need forgive the same offense or same offender three times. So Peter was more than doubling what could reasonably be expected. But Jesus responds, “Not 7 times but 77 times, indeed 7 times 70 times!” In other words, forgive completely, forgive endlessly, as God forgives.
It was a challenging answer. It sounds impossible. But Jesus knows the human soul. He knows how the alternative—being unforgiving or niggardly in mercy—is lethal for the soul and quite possibly for the body. Hatred fuels an endless cycle of revenge or else enervates the hater. Resentment eats us up. We see this in nations that nurse ancient hatreds. We see it closer to home in our own communities, families, selves.
Our world today is in desperate need of Jesus’ alternative. More than justice-by-hitting-back. More than peace-based-on-fear. More than live-and-let-live. Our world needs mercy, the justice of God’s kingdom. That grace of reconciliation comes only from the crucified God, from the One who says from the Cross, “Forgive them Father, they don’t know what they are doing.” (Lk 23:34) While ever we count another as our enemy, we are in their power, indeed the Devil’s power. In the end, as Abraham Lincoln observed, the only way to conquer enemies is to turn them into friends. And only the Prince of Peace can show us how to “put away the sword” (Jn 18:11).
Consecrated life is one of the ways Christ shows us. St John Paul II described it as a “living memorial of Jesus’ way of living and acting”: a way by which the features of Christ—poor, chaste, obedient and forgiving—are made known to the world.[i] For the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary, this imitation of Christ has always had a particularly Marian dimension. Mary receives Christ uniquely and totally, bearing the God-man in her womb so that He might be brought to all people—as at the Visitation when she brought Him in the monstrance of her body to her cousin Elizabeth. As at the Nativity when she brought Him forth for the adoration of angels and saints, shepherds and king. As at the Presentation and the Finding when she brought Him to the priests and worshippers. As at the wedding-feast in Cana, when she identified Him as the man of miracles. As at the Cross when she joined His self-offering for the salvation of the world. As Mary, again and again, carries her Son to others, so incarnating and sharing Him with others is the Schoenstatt Marian calling.
And this Marian pattern also speaks to us about Gospel mercy. Mothers must forgive, again and again, from the time their little one gives them morning sickness, the pains of childbirth, the sleepless nights. Through many more occasions of anxiety and demands, mothers must forgive our disobedience, ingratitude, neglect. And as they must be merciful if they are to keep loving and nurturing their young, so mothers teach us mercy, even before we have words for it, even before we know it incarnate in Jesus, the Divine Pity. As we grow in faith and virtue, we learn to forgive, to reconcile, to make strangers our neighbours, make neighbours our brothers and sisters. The life of the Schoenstatt Sisters summons us to such mercy, in caring for the needy, teaching the ignorant, mending divisions, evangelising those far from God.
In 1994, St John Paul II told the Schoenstatt Sisters that their Marian path was one of complete availability for the Church’s mission. Like Mary, he said, they are called to receive God’s gifts and then share them with others. In their pastoral work with young people and families, in promoting devotion to the Mother Thrice Admirable (Queen and Victoress of Schoenstatt), in the myriad ways they serve Church and society, the mission of the sisters is to permeate the realities of this world with the Spirit of Christ.[ii] John Paul the Great encapsulated this task by recalling the prayer of Fr Kentenich during his imprisonment in Dachau: “Let us walk through life like You” Blessed Mother, “and make our times ready for Christ!”[iii]
As Jesus is Mercy, Mary is Mother of Mercy. She had to forgive her Son for His neglect of her when going about His Father’s business. She had to forgive the angel, her God and her Son for asking things of her that must have seemed impossible. She had to forgive the persecutors of her Son and herself, the two Herods, Pilate, the religious authorities. She had to forgive the apostles for abandoning her Son when He and she most needed them, when she was left almost alone at the Cross. And forgive them this Mother of Mercy did, as there she was, surrounded by the apostles, praying for the Spirit of Pentecost.
For a century now Mary has been forming you, dear sisters, to walk through life like her, and so preparing our times for Christ. May she continue to do so. And may she form all of us, your friends, so we might bring the merciful face of her Son, our Redeemer, to a world desperately needing His love.
Happy birthday centenarians. Ad multos annos!
[i] John Paul II, Vita consecrata: Post-synodal Apostolic Exhortation on Consecrated Life (1996) 22.
[ii] John Paul II, “Address to Representatives of the Secular Institute of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary,” September 16, 1994.
[iii] John Paul II, “Address to Representatives of the Secular Institute of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary,” September 16, 1994.
Introduction to Mass for 100th Anniversary of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary, 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A).
Mt Schoenstatt Shrine, Mulgoa, 13 September 2026
Thank you Sr Isabell for your warm welcome. Dear sisters, fathers, and friends, it is a great joy to be back with you here at Mt Schoenstatt to celebrate this Mass of thanksgiving, marking the centenary of the founding of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary.
In 1926, in the Schoenstatt valley near Vallendar, Germany, 18 young women and a Pallottine Priest, Fr Joseph Kentenich, dedicated themselves to a new service for the Church and the world. Amidst war and depression, their situation was precarious, with so few resources and nothing in Church law to formalise their new form of consecration. But from those humble beginnings grew the Secular Institute of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary, and 100 years later it has a footprint in 32 countries, with 1800 sisters from 42 nations.
The first Schoenstatt Sisters arrived in Australia in 1951, taking root first in Western Australia and then in 1968 here in Mulgoa. At the time my predecessor, Cardinal Gilroy, affectionally described the shrine as a “little gem” in the crown of the Church of Sydney and Australia.[i] Six decades later, it’s fair to say this diamond has shone far beyond what he might have anticipated. Now you are called to be a Marian “light of hope” in the century to come.
Today I especially greet my friend Sr M. Isabell Naumann ISSM, Provincial Superior of the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary in Australia and the Philippines, and all the sisters gathered with us; all members of the Schoenstatt Movement; fellow clergy and religious; benefactors and friends of Schoenstatt all.
As we prepare to celebrate the sacred mysteries, let us acknowledge our sins and ask the Lord for his mercy.
[i] Norman Thomas Cardinal Gilroy, Homily for the Blessing and Opening of My Schoenstatt Shrine, Mulgoa, 19 May 1968.
