About Us
“Sister G” — The Secret Weapon
“Can I go to prison with you?”
Linda
Strom says, “I had just finished teaching at St. James Catholic prayer
group in Mequon, Wisconsin, when a beautiful nun in her sixties approached me.
‘I work at the Milwaukee County Jail every day,’ she continued, ‘so I already know a lot of the
inmates.’”
Little did I expect that with that request nearly 20 years ago,
I’d find a
soul mate and role model. Sister Giselda Fenech, of the Sisters of Charity of
St. Joan Antida, is a free-spirited, loving, vulnerable, and outspoken
80-year-old bundle of energy. She is from the island of Malta. My favorite
Sister Giselda quote is,
“I didn’t find Jesus in the convent, I
didn’t
find Him in the church. I found Him in the jail. When I went into that jail
and saw how the Lord works behind the bars I began to find the Lord in my own
life.”
She always loved God and the church, but in her heart of hearts she knew
there was a missing link. Over the years she had allowed anger and bitterness to
build up. Alcoholism was an unwelcome visitor in Sister’s family of origin, as
it had been in mine. She experienced terrible pain in World War II when she
worked as a registered nurse in a hospital in Malta caring for young American
and British soldiers.
A Turning Point
But working at the Burn Center at St. Mary’s Hospital in Milwaukee put Sister
over the edge. Returning from her brother’s funeral, she learned that two of her
burn patients that she was very close to had died. Sister says, “I was
losing it, and Mother Superior didn’t know what else to do with me—so they
transferred me to the jail. That was the best thing that ever happened to
me.”
I remember Sister’s response to one reporter asking her, “What about
jailhouse religion?” She asked him for to clarify his question. “You
know,” he said, “inmates who say they want God because they’re in
trouble. As soon as they get out, they forget all about God.” Sister G is
only four feet, ten inches tall. But sometimes she seems six feet tall as this
reporter soon discovered. Dressed in her gray habit and well-worn tennis shoes,
she walked right up to him, straightened her shoulders and replied rather
indignantly, “Why, that’s God’s business, not mine. I sow the seed and let
the Lord deal with it from there.”
While in Gatesville’s Mountain View prison one weekend, Sister G connected
with Sherry, an aloof an unkempt inmate. When we divided into small groups at
the end of the service, Sherry distanced herself from the others. Sister G, like
the hound of heaven, pursued her. Finally Sherry, realizing she wasn’t going to
ditch Sister G, opened up to her.
She asked Sister G, “If you had a dirty, ugly old house and Jesus came
to your door, would you let Him in?” As always, Sister G had just the right
reply. “Why, Sherry. I would. You see, He has a broom and all the cleaning
utensils. He just wants to clean up your house!”
As I watched Sister G loving Sherry that weekend, it deeply touched me.
This
is You, Jesus. Loving people. They responded to You, and You set them
free.
In the video
Karla Faye Tucker and I made two weeks before her execution,
Karla laughed as she talked about Sister G. “Sweet, sweet Sister Giselda.
The way she becomes a mother to everyone she meets in prison—she brings so much
joy.” Then Karla gave one of her perky smiles and announced, “Sister G
just knows how to hug.” And if saying it once wasn’t enough, she said
again, emphasizing the depth of Sister G’s hug. “She can really
huggg!”
To me, the prerequisite for discipleship is love. Jesus said people would
know us by our love. The most important question any of us should ask before
entering any ministry is, “Can I love people?” It’s that love that
melts the heart of stone.
