The entire earthly life of Jesus was an act of mercy: he healed the sick, fed the hungry, raised the dead, brought solace to the sorrowful and Truth to the truth-seekers. The culminating point of His merciful love was His offering up of His life on the cross. Out of His pierced heart, mercy for the world gushed forth like a spring.

So what is new? We have heard this truth so many times it no longer makes any impression on us. For 2000 years, people have grown used to passing this Spring of Mercy by without paying it the slightest attention.

Today, as our suffering world cries out to Heaven for mercy, God reminds us that His merciful heart remains open to all. When Jesus appeared to Sister Faustina, He said: Tell wretched humanity to cling to My Merciful Heart….Mankind will find no solace until it turns with trust to My Mercy….

I do not remember when I first came into contact with the Divine Mercy image and the chaplet of mercy. I do know that the prayers and promises given to those who hear the call of Divine Mercy were God’s answer to my needs and longings. As I learned more about these promises, and began to experience them in my life, I found myself taking ever-greater personal possession of the chaplet, the image, and the devotion to Divine Mercy.

When in Faustina’s Diary I came across the words: I desire to share unimaginable graces with souls who trust in My Mercy, and also: …in that hour [of mercy], I will not refuse any soul who begs a favor for the sake My Passion…, I understood that before me was a treasure chest filled with magnificent riches. No armed guard stood between it and myself. I was free to dip into it. I could have it all to myself. All that was needed was one small word addressed to Jesus — I TRUST.

I have reached for this key of trust many times in my life. Without a moment’s hesitation, I can say that every time I have had recourse to it, no matter how difficult the situation I faced, I have always emerged victorious — not I, but the Divine Mercy in me.

In May of 1999, our Order decided to open a second religious house in Siberia. Its main purpose was to enable Russian women interested in joining the Sisters of Saint Borromeo to receive their religious formation in their own country. This required sending at least one more sister from Poland to work in Russia. I was on the list of candidates. I wish I could say the prospect filled me with instant apostolic zeal. But when I learned that the Little Flower, my favorite saint, would be the patron of this house, and that the chapel (which was to be the nucleus of a future new parish) would be dedicated to the Divine Mercy, it became clear to me that if this was God’s will, I could not, nor would I, refuse it. Indeed, ought I not to jump at this chance of becoming a real apostle of Jesus Christ? Did I not want the whole world to know God’s mercy?

I have been in Siberia since December 2000. As I write these words by the window, I am struck by the bewitching whiteness of the snow outside. There is something in this mournful prospect that contains the promise of a marvelous transformation, reminiscent of the Russian fairytale, in which everything turns out well in the end. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow — the prophet Isaiah tells us. How much more than snow shall God’s mercy transform this land. My Russian sisters and I are here to proclaim it throughout Siberia. As Sisters of Mercy of St. Charles Borromeo, we do this through acts of love in imitation of Christ, Who healed, fed, taught, prayed and saved. We also see ourselves as heralds of mercy by praying the chaplet every day and spreading the devotion.

But in order that this work may continue to flourish, that the Spring of Living Water flowing from the pierced heart of Jesus may be brought to as many of those who stand in need of God’s mercy as possible (and here, in Siberia, they are especially many), we need your prayerful support. We earnestly beg you to pray for Russia. Pray also for us, and others like us, whom God has called to carry His message of hope and merciful love to the ends of the earth.

 

Sister Ewa

of the Sisters of St. Borromeo,

Irkutsk, Russia.