The young, dynamic Capuchins took youths on bicycle pilgrimages, to summer camps, even formed a band. For Henryk, St. Anthony Church in his hometown of Nova Sol, Poland, became an oasis of freedom in a desert of totalitarianism. 

“In the gray landscape of a Communist country, the church was a bright spot,” recalls Brother Henryk, the eldest of three children who spent many hours at the parish he described as a home away from home. 

He likens his calling to that of the disciples Jesus called at Galilee. “Jesus didn’t tell them what would happen in their life. He somehow attracted them.” Similarly, “I was attracted by the Capuchins,” he recalls. 

“I didn’t know much about St. Francis’ charism,” Brother Henryk continues. “I knew the Capuchins. And that was enough for me.” Those stirrings of a vocation would lead him to join the order in 1986 at age 20, professing his perpetual vows in 1987. The journey that followed would take many twists and unlikely turns, leading Brother Henryk from a seminary classroom to a soup kitchen, from professor to advocate for the poor, and from Krakow, Poland, to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 

“I couldn’t imagine what would happen in my life,” he recalls of those early years. “I had my visions. But everything happened differently somehow.” 

From Krakow to Rome and Back 

After novitiate in a friary in eastern Poland, Brother Henryk continued his formation in Krakow for theological studies. He was ordained a priest in April 1993. At the time, the order planned to open a Capuchin seminary in Krakow. 

Brother Henryk loved adventure and travel but had assumed he would be giving that up when he joined the order. After he served for a year in a parish in Krakow, however, his superiors sent him to the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. During seven years there, he studied languages in Austria and France, with a semester in Israel. 

Upon returning, Brother Henryk became a professor of New Testament at the seminary. He lived at a friary in Krakow. The fall of Communism in 1989 brought religious freedom to Poland. However, it also spurred “an explosion of poverty,” Brother Henryk recalls. During the Communist era, the people had little, but enough to survive; in subsequent years, many lost their homes and livelihoods. 

The shift was apparent at the friary in Krakow, where only seven or eight people had come asking for food in the past. “After 1989, we had hundreds. It was so many that we couldn’t enter our friary. They were blocking the door,” he recalls. 

One of the friars built a “barracks,” a separate building where the friars would serve tea and sandwiches in the morning and in the afternoon. At the time, Brother Henryk had little interest in serving the poor, but he’d always had an aptitude for technical issues. 

He noticed that volunteers heated the tea water in a large pot over a very small fire. At the time, everyone in Krakow boiled their water before consuming it. But the tea served to the poor was tepid at best. 

From Tea Brewer to Friend of the Poor 

“I was angry about that,” he recalls. “This was another ‘trap’ of the Lord, how he attracted me to the poor. It was not about my love for them, my desire to serve them. I wanted to improve the technical issue and make good tea for them.” And so he applied for a grant from the city and purchased a professional coffee and tea maker. “My first step toward the poor was as a tea brewer,” he recalls. 

Just as St. Francis had not intended to go among the lepers, Brother Henryk “never imagined my life to be connected to the service of the poor.” Yet, gradually, the friar who spent his days in a seminary classroom found himself drawn to the men and women he passed on his way back to the friary. 

A social worker who was a friend of the friars told them she appreciated their intentions but compared their approach to a “19th-century way of doing things,” Brother Henryk recalls. That sparked his ambitious side, driving him to convince his superiors to develop a professional center for assisting the homeless. 

Collaborating with an attorney friend, Brother Henryk spent his “after-work” hours making the dream a reality. The Capuchins built two centers for the homeless. In Poland and other European countries, taxpayers can designate one percent of their taxes to a nonprofit organization. The Capuchins raised $6 million in 2008 alone for the homeless shelter by creating a computer program that set up their nonprofit as a default option. “I’m really proud of what we did,” he says. “I created this organization. But this organization also created me. It was a way for me to approach the poor.” 

Before that, “I was afraid of the homeless people. I was polite to them. But I was keeping my distance.” As he became more involved at the center, the barriers gradually broke down and Brother Henryk grew to love the people and the work. He had begun working toward a new dream, a farm where the Capuchins and the homeless could grow their own food. 

A Ministry in Milwaukee 

Then came the unexpected. In 2017, his superiors transferred Brother Henryk to the parish in Krakow where he had begun his priestly ministry. His days were filled with celebrating Masses and hearing confessions—but he missed his ministry to the poor. Going from being a nationally known advocate for the poor to a parish priest was “humbling,” he recalls. It was also frustrating to be away from the ministry he had grown to love. 

In 2012, Brother Henryk had met the Capuchins in the Province of St. Joseph in Milwaukee during a visit to learn more about Capuchin Community Services (CapuchinCommunityServices.org), which operates the largest food pantry in the city. Two years later, the Milwaukee Capuchins had invited him to join them, but he was far too busy in Poland at the time. 

In 2021, the Milwaukee Capuchins contacted Brother Henryk again. This time he said yes, though he warned them that he was older and had recently had knee replacement surgery. “But they wanted me anyway,” recalls Brother Henryk, who had longed to return to ministry with the poor. “I considered it a rescue mission.” 

When he arrived, Brother Henryk spent his days serving meals, sorting clothing donations, pouring coffee. “My pride suffered a little,” says the former CEO. However, soon he relished those simple interactions. 

In 2024, the Capuchins asked Brother Henryk to become director of Capuchin Community Services. The work has been challenging at times but deeply rewarding. 

A Source of Renewal 

Recently, he had a bad day, marked by administrative snafus and other issues. That evening, he joined the guests for dinner and encountered a man named David who had repeatedly asked him for a winter coat. Brother Henryk walked him over to the clothing closet. They found a recently donated green coat. 

“He was so happy. He started crying. He was hugging me, saying, ‘I love you, I love you so much,’” recalls Brother Henryk. All the stress of the day fell away. Looking back on his ministry, he has seen time and again how these simple interactions have transformed him. “Pope Francis said, ‘Be close to the poor’,” says Brother Henryk. “They are like a source of life.” 

From the Lab to the Classroom 

Sister Mary Elizabeth grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, as one of five sisters with one brother. As a youth she spent hours reading in a tree in her backyard. She attended Catholic elementary school and high school. At the latter, she fell in love with the sciences, particularly biology, chemistry, and physics. 

She studied science at the University of Notre Dame before getting an education degree from St. Mary’s College (Notre Dame, Indiana). “I loved going to school,” Sister Mary Elizabeth says. “That was exciting for me.” Her first job out of college was working in a research laboratory. As a woman in a male-dominated field, she earned the respect of her colleagues. 

“There was a little bit of trouble in the adjustment, not me, but with the guys, until one big piece of machinery broke down,” she says. “I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed a wrench and climbed up on it and fixed it. After that, it was kind of smooth sailing.” 

While recuperating from a work-related allergic reaction, she visited St. Louis. She met her friend and her friend’s friend, a nun, and visited the St. Louis Arch. Sister Mary Elizabeth commented to her friends that if she were ever to teach, she’d bring the students to the arch to see a real-life example of a catenary arch. 

A month later she got a call from the principal of an all-girls academy in St. Louis offering her a job. She accepted and began her career as a science teacher. She taught chemistry at first and later introduced a physics curriculum to the school. Sister Mary Elizabeth moved back to Indiana to teach at another high school to be closer to her father who was battling cancer. There, at St. Joseph High School in South Bend, she began to feel the call to religious life. 

A Franciscan Sister of the Sacred Heart visited the high school seeking potential candidates from the student body. Sister Mary Elizabeth saw an advertisement for a retreat hosted by the sisters and felt it was a good opportunity. “I thought, ‘That’ll be a way for me to kind of figure out what my life’s about.’ I didn’t know it was a retreat for vocations! So, at the end of the weekend, they said, ‘We like what we see. Would you consider entering?’ I’m like, ‘Oh, no way!’ That wasn’t what I was searching for at the time.” 

A few years later, Sister Mary Elizabeth picked up a summer course and, as if by providence, two Franciscan Sisters of the Sacred Heart were in the class. She helped tutor the sisters in science and was impressed by their way of life. At age 29, she joined. “[I liked] their joy, their welcoming spirit, and just great sense of humor,” Sister Mary Elizabeth recalls. “They did education. I thought, ‘Well, I’ll do that.’” 

Teaching as Ministry 

Sister Mary Elizabeth was able to spend the first part of her vowed life studying the writings of St. Francis, but soon she returned to teaching. She was assigned to teach chemistry and physics at Bishop Luers High School in Fort Wayne. The school was run by the Franciscan Friars of the then-St. John the Baptist Province. “They stirred my spirit,” she says. “We just had a lot of fun.” After Sister Mary Elizabeth taught for several years, the sisters sent her to study spiritual direction. She already served as a mentor for students, but this gave her the opportunity to deepen those connections. “Those aha moments were just really precious for me,” says Sister Mary Elizabeth. “When [students] would catch on to something, whether it was, ‘What does it mean to be a saint?’ or Einstein’s theory or how a telephone works. I just love that.” 

With a background now in spiritual direction, Sister Mary Elizabeth and a friend established the Portiuncula Center for Prayer, which has since developed into a well-known retreat center. Soon after, Sister Mary Elizabeth was elected to lead the community as general minister. 

She served two five-year terms in the role. In the first five years, Sister Mary Elizabeth brought many new ideas. In the second term, she felt called to lead a different way. “It was just a marvelous sense of conversion,” she says. “I still did leadership, but I had a sense of it being sort of just the opposite of [the first term]. The congregation really led me.” 

Sister Mary Elizabeth served as the president of the Franciscan Federation in 2008, continued providing spiritual direction, and earned a master’s degree in Franciscan studies from St. Bonaventure University. After her terms in office, she taught at the University of St. Francis in Joliet, Illinois, for 14 years. She has also led many pilgrimages to Assisi. Today, she is once again general minister of the congregation. After more than 40 years in ministry as a science teacher, spiritual director, pilgrimage guide, and community leader, Sister Mary Elizabeth has a unique view on faith and science. She views the two—sometimes seen as incompatible disciplines—as different sides of the same coin. 

“The Franciscan tradition embraces all of that,” she says. “I love to see the tension of the sciences and our faith tradition because I think that pushes both of them to search for the truth. They help each other limp along.” Through her journey as a scientist, educator, and Franciscan leader, Sister Mary Elizabeth exemplifies a life where faith and reason walk hand in hand. 

Teresa and her husband, Jeff, were professed into the Secular Franciscan Order in November 1992. She became the regional minister of the St. Katharine Drexel Secular Franciscan Order on May 6, 2023. Her roots trace back to a life enriched by compassion, simplicity, and a love for all creation. Growing up, she experienced firsthand the values of service and humility, observing them in her family and community. 

Teresa Redder’s vocational journey began long before she officially embraced her Franciscan calling. “When I was growing up in Camden, New Jersey, my paternal grandmother, a Polish immigrant, influenced my spiritual life greatly,” Teresa recalls. “The first prayer that I remember learning was the Guardian Angel prayer—in Polish! It was a blessing to say that prayer with her every night and to be with her at the Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa in 1966, when Poland celebrated 1,000 years of Christianity.” 

Teresa’s mother, a refugee from Poland, suffered greatly during World War II after being deported to Siberia in February 1940. She was 9 years old and lived as a refugee for eight years. The words her mother spoke often (“People can be so cruel”) still resonate with Teresa. “My mom always hated the term ‘displaced person’ because of its negative connotations,” she says. “Last year, the United Nations reported 122.6 million displaced people in our world. Franciscans need a passion for social justice that promotes true and fraternal solidarity in which every person has a place.” 

Her mother had an extraordinary devotion to St. Anthony and faithfully read St. Anthony Messenger. Teresa discovered a Reflection page (formerly called Words to Remember) featuring St. Francis with a seagull. She loved the page so much that she printed it out and hung it in her office, where it remained for 28 years. This printout led her on a journey to find a Third Order Secular fraternity. A quote from St. Francis of Assisi also offered comfort to many of her coworkers throughout the years: “You have great reason to praise your creator. He gave you feathers for your clothing and wings to fly. He looks after you without any effort on your part.” 

After graduating from Saint Joseph’s University, Philadelphia, with bachelor’s degrees in chemistry and management marketing, Teresa joined the US Air Force as an aircraft maintenance officer (captain) and served for almost 11 years. She then served as a lieutenant colonel in the US Air Force Reserve for nearly 12 years. 

Gentle Leaders 

Teresa’s story is one of dedication and gentle leadership. Long before she took on the role of regional minister, she had earned the respect of her community through humble acts of service. Service as a Third Order Secular in her local fraternity, the Holy Assumption Fraternity in Roebling, New Jersey, preceded her election as regional minister for 24 fraternities in eastern Pennsylvania, southern New Jersey, and Delaware. She strives to lead by example and shows others what it means to truly embody the spirit of St. Francis. Whether she is organizing local charity efforts or simply being a caring listener to those in need, Teresa approaches tasks with an open heart and a genuine desire to serve. 

Her path to becoming regional minister was not one she walked alone. It was shaped by the guidance of mentors, the support of her local fraternity, and her unwavering faith. Her vision is rooted in the understanding that everyone brings unique gifts, and she has always sought to uplift others by creating opportunities for growth, fellowship, and spiritual development. 

With a spirit of inclusiveness, Teresa leads with grace, never losing sight of the Franciscan values of peace, humility, and love for all of God’s creation. Under her guidance, the region has flourished—fostering deeper connections not only within the community but also with the broader world. Her tireless efforts have ensured that the Franciscan message of love, respect for creation, and service to others remains alive and vibrant in every corner of her region. 

A More Just World 

Central to Teresa’s leadership is her commitment to Justice, Peace, and Integrity of Creation (JPIC). Whether advocating for the marginalized, promoting ecological stewardship, or being a prison minister, Teresa embodies the Franciscan call to action. Her initiatives, which include outreach programs, address social inequality and peace. She is active in the Franciscan Action Network (FranciscanAction.org)  and other efforts to care for the environment—which reflect her dedication to the JPIC values at the heart of the Franciscan tradition. 

“I love the traditions that Pope Francis has reminded the Church to treasure, especially the intergenerational relationships of grandparents and the elderly with young people,” says Teresa. “In the wisdom that we share across generations, we find the transformative power of love to shape peace and good in our world. My encounters with young adults through Franciscan Action Network’s leadership conferences give me great hope for the Church—today and tomorrow!” 

Her vision for the region is one of collaboration and empowerment. She places a priority on reaching out to young people and listening to their hopes for our world. Teresa says she actively seeks out collaboration to shape prayerful communities that are true guardians of God’s creation and that live with a fraternal spirit of human dignity (inspired by Pope Francis’ Laudato Si’ and Fratelli Tutti encyclicals). 

Teresa’s roots are not only in her past; they are living, growing parts of her present and future. She reminds us that our connection to the Franciscan charism is not static. It is a journey that continues to deepen, branch out, and bear fruit in unexpected ways. And, for Teresa, this year is particularly charged with potential. “The 2025 Jubilee Year of Hope shapes my vision of servant leadership: God’s goodness is in us, with us, and all around us,” she says. “It is hope that enables us to be joyful, even when the times appear to be dark and fearful. As pilgrims on this journey of hope, I have many companions who choose love over fear.”

Father Dan, 75, grew up in a Catholic family in Walpole, Massachusetts, about 20 miles outside of Boston. “My family wasn’t overly involved in the parish, and we never had a priest or nun ever come to our home,” he says. “However, we were religious in daily prayer and never missed Sunday Mass. And my mom always made sure my dad had his rosary with him going to work; he was a cop. My dad belonged to the Knights of Columbus, but it was mostly for the social aspect.” 

Father Dan, the oldest of six children, attended public school, where a vocation was not emphasized. Nevertheless, God was at work in his family as he and his younger brother, Michael, who is now deceased, both became priests, with his brother becoming a diocesan priest. 

The family lived in a rural area with no Catholic schools in the vicinity, but Father Dan was able to tag along with a friend to attend altar boy classes. 

Father Dan decided to enter the Franciscans’ minor seminary when he was 13. “My mother thought I was crazy,” he says, “but my dad said: ‘See if you like it. If you don’t, you can always come home.’” 

A Good Mix 

While attending St. Joseph’s Seraphic Seminary in Callicoon, New York, he noticed that the more academic friars who taught the seminarians would easily mix with the ones who did manual labor. “The seminary had a German background and valued work. So, the friars who worked the farm and the ones who were caretakers of the local cemetery mixed with the teachers, and I liked that about them,” Father Dan recalls. 

“Although I don’t think I ever read a book on St. Francis until much later, the friars that I met at the seminary made an impression on me. They worked in parishes, went on missions, worked on experimental farms, and taught in universities. I thought, These guys are great,” says Father Dan. After five years at the minor seminary, he moved on to Siena College in Albany, New York. “I then spent my novitiate in Brookline, Massachusetts, studied theology in Washington, DC, and was ordained on May 8, 1976, at the age of 27,” says Father Dan, who requested his first assignment be the St. Anthony Shrine in Boston. 

“My dad had Alzheimer’s disease, and I asked to be assigned close to my home,” says Father Dan. Within a year, he accepted an offer by the archdiocese to serve its campus ministry. “The ministry was located in the Back Bay area of Boston and served a wide range of students from the universities there, such as the Boston Conservatory, Berklee School of Jazz, [and] MIT,” he says. 

“After I was there for a while, I was walking with another friar one day, who stunned me by saying that I was wasting my time and that I should go back to school. I was ticked, to be honest,” says Father Dan, “but I completed a master’s at Boston College in 1981, and then I went to Notre Dame and earned a doctorate in history in 1985.” 

Father Dan went on to teach at Christ the King Seminary in Buffalo, direct friars in the post-novitiate in Washington, DC, and eventually serve as the president of the Washington Theological Union until 2005. “A friar-member of the union’s board of trustees and also pastor of a parish in Durham, North Carolina, told me he was retiring and that I should look into succeeding him,” says Father Dan. “They needed a pastor, and I took the assignment. 

“It was a wonderful parish with a large Latino population with a parish school. I served there for nine years, but while I could celebrate sacraments in Spanish, I couldn’t converse with the parishioners very well, so I thought it best that they have a priest who was fluent in Spanish, and I moved over to St. Andrew [Parish] in Clemson, South Carolina.” 

Switching Gears 

Father Dan’s decision to seek retirement was reached after accompanying students on a mission trip to Lima, Peru. “They were so enthusiastic, but I discovered how out of touch I was with their jargon and music!” he says. “And at the end of the day, they were still raring to go, but I was fatigued. It was then that I realized that they deserved more. So, I retired in the fall of 2024, which, after 48 years, was the first fall that I was not teaching or running a school.” 

But Father Dan is not idle. “As this area is strapped for priests, I’m still staying in Pendleton, South Carolina, at a farmhouse that a parishioner offered for me to live in. I’m only 20 minutes from the church and have told the parish and the campus ministry that I’ll help out wherever needed,” he said. “In my old age, I’ve come to learn that the Gospel is not what we are required to do for Jesus, but more about the wonderful things God has done for us. 

“It isn’t rules and rituals that attract others to God; it’s love in action. And not ‘love the emotion,’ but ‘love in action,’ which, as Dostoevsky said, ‘is a harsh and dreadful thing,’ requiring sacrifice for one another. It was the love in action of the friars in the seminary that attracted me. Love rolls up its sleeves and goes to work for people, and I think by focusing on flesh and blood, meeting people and letting them know that they matter is when they encounter Christ. Everyone wants to matter, and I’ve tried to express that throughout my vocation.” 

Sister M. Karolyn, of the Sisters of St. Francis of the Martyr St. George (FSGM), in Alton, Illinois, took the name “Mary Karolyn” to reflect her admiration of and devotion to Karol Wojtyla, who became Pope John Paul II. 

“Originally, I thought I would take the name ‘Mary Xavier’ because St. Francis Xavier was a zealous, missionary, set-the-world-afire kind of saint, but after prayer and conversation, I recognized that Pope John Paul II encompassed those same qualities,” says Sister M. Karolyn, 43, who serves as her community’s vocation director. “When we take our names, we write a paper about it, and each year I reread the paper as a reminder of why God invited me to take this name. It becomes more pertinent each time I review it, and I see the significance that I am Sister M. Karolyn, not Sister John Paul. It was as Karol that his profound understanding of young people, women, sexuality, and suffering were formed, and those are all things that are important to me in my relationship with the Lord.” 

Not a Recruiter for Women Religious 

“Everyone thinks my job is to recruit women to our community, but I’m not out to get someone to sign on the dotted line,” she explains. “I look upon what I do as teaching people to pray and discern what they are to do with their lives. God, who is love, creates us in love and calls us to love, and I help women to determine how to respond in love to him.” 

Sister M. Karolyn knows that discerning a vocation takes time, reflection, prayer, and patience, as it took her some time to realize that she was called to religious life. “I grew up in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, the oldest of three children—my sister and brother, who are twins, are three-and-a-half years younger,” she says. “We were born and raised Catholic, but we attended public schools; I was a CCD kid.” Mass attendance was nonnegotiable with her parents, but they didn’t pray the rosary together every day or engage in any other family devotions. 

It was while she was attending Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio, that the seed for her vocation was planted. “We had a summer seminarian at our parish who was familiar with the university, and I began to research Franciscan [material] online,” Sister M. Karolyn recalls. “It was also at that time that I took an aptitude test that said I was suited to religious ministry, theater/drama, and education, and that was probably true, but I didn’t like being profiled like that.” Still, she decided to attend to study theology and religious education. 

“I met the Franciscan Sisters of the Martyr St. George at Steubenville, and their joy was attractive,” she says. “I’d only known old and angry nuns, but these were different. 

“Our community has a variety of apostolates where we make merciful love visible, including working in health care in positions such as nurses, X-ray technicians, and hospital administration. Another large percentage of sisters serve in education, from teaching in day cares to colleges. We also work in parishes, administration, and care for retired priests,” says Sister M. Karolyn, who noted that there are 110 members in their community in the United States, and that she lives with half of them at their provincial house in Alton, a town located about 25 miles north of St. Louis, Missouri. 

A Stirring of the Heart 

Upon graduation in 2003 from Franciscan University, she took a job in Tennessee serving as a youth minister and working in religious education. “In retrospect,” she says, “it was a stepping stone to my vocation. 

“At this time, I was only going home one to two times a year because I lived so far away,” she recalls. “I loved my job, dated some, but I was restless. Once, when I was in class in Steubenville, my professor read this line of Scripture from John 19:37, ‘They will look upon him whom they have pierced,’ and something popped in my heart, but I tucked it away.” 

In September 2004, Sister M. Karolyn made her first visit to the FSGM provincial house, and she knew she belonged there. She applied in November 2004, entered the community in September 2005, and professed her first vows later that year. 

She then worked for seven years teaching in New Jersey and Kansas, and, in January 2016, she was asked to become the vocation director for her order. Currently, there are two postulants, four novices, and three women in the application process for next year. Sister M. Karolyn says that, on average, it’s a three- to four-year accompaniment until a woman gives her yes. 

“I tell women that God works in the concrete, not in the abstract,” says Sister M. Karolyn. “There are so many options now, and we have so many expectations, and [we] are grasping. If you are interested in a vocation, I advise women to pay attention to their heart. Investigate what you know. If it feels like work trying to be something you’re not, it’s not a fit. I always ask: What does it feel like when you visit the convent? Do you feel like your true self?” 

She also tells women that their humanity doesn’t go away when they enter the convent. “Things like the way some people annoy you or the temptations for certain things don’t disappear. This life is not magical,” says Sister M. Karolyn. 

“I help women discern where they fit,” she says. “If you take a square and try to force it into the circle slot, you may have to manipulate it, or you may have to break the toy to make it work. Discernment shouldn’t be forced. I help women to find out where they fit in a place that suits how they are made.” 

Sister M. Karolyn knows that she is a good fit in her vocation. “God has fulfilled me in so many ways that I couldn’t have dreamed possible,” she says. “I wanted kids, and I have tons of them through teaching. I have been able to love so many people. I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and it becomes clearer every day.” 

Father Mark first began serving the parish when he was ordained a deacon in April 2021. After his ordination as a member of the Order of Friars Minor that December, he was assigned to the parish as a priest in June 2022. 

Formed in the Faith 

Cebu City has a population of nearly 800,000 and is the capital of the Province of Cebu, which has 168 islands and islets. Father Mark grew up in the island-province of Siquijor, located near Cebu. 

He describes his family as “very challenged.” His father was a bus driver; his mother was a teacher by profession but stayed home to care for their children. Mark Anthony was the oldest; he had a younger sister, and their younger brother died when he was 2 days old. 

“Life in Siquijor is very tough,” he says. “Our family had to learn how to maximize the salary of my father.” Father Mark says he was raised “in a very Catholic family in a very Catholic neighborhood.” His mother was devoted to St. Anthony of Padua, which is why Father Mark’s middle name is Anthony. Their home had a small altar to St. Anthony, and they celebrated his feast every June 13. 

Although his parents were not active in the local parish, their neighbors took young Mark to weekly Mass, Holy Week, and Christmas liturgies. 

“That formed my faith when I was younger,” he says. 

Learning the Franciscan Way of Life 

Father Mark attended a public elementary school but went to a diocesan Catholic high school. Nearby was a Poor Clare monastery, where he was introduced to the international organization Franciscan Youth. 

“That was the start of the enticement to enter into religious life,” he says. 

The youth group often joined in the liturgical celebrations at the Poor Clare monastery, and it was there that he encountered members of the Order of Friars Minor. Sometimes, he says with a laugh, he used to wonder, “Is there another organization called the Order of Friars Major?” 

The Poor Clares introduced him to the lives of St. Francis and St. Clare, and, at age 16, he entered the seminary. When he was assigned to San Vicente Ferrer Parish, in an urban work community near hospitals, universities, and shopping malls, “I tried my best to implement in the parish what I learned in my theology days,” he says. 

Like many large parishes, San Vicente was subdivided into chapels, where people would attend Mass. But, over the years, some of the chapels were demolished because of development or road-widening projects, and people lost some of their Catholic identity. They would say, “We cannot celebrate Mass anymore because we don’t have a chapel.” 

But using the model of a basic ecclesial community—smaller groups of Catholics who come together for prayer, reflection, and action—Father Mark suggested the parish begin offering Masses in open spaces, an idea he learned from Franciscans stationed in missions. He said the idea was that, as long as an area had space for a Mass, the friars would celebrate it. “Usually we celebrate on the sidewalks,” he says. 

Small Communities Within the Parish 

Mass is the starting point for the opening of the basic ecclesial community. Then come the weekly Bible sharing, services such as feeding programs, or monthly cleanup drives in response to Pope Francis’ call to action in his 2015 encyclical, Laudato Si’: On Care for Our Common Home. 

When the parish began the Masses, the friars formed teams with laypeople, who were able to lay the groundwork in their neighborhoods. After the Masses and base communities were established, local parishioners elected a leader, and that person became a member of the parish pastoral council. 

“I can say that it’s working because, for example, there are places here in our parish where people thought they belonged to another parish” until outdoor Masses were held in their areas, says Father Mark. “We have new volunteers helping us in running the parish church,” and people have joined the pastoral council from about 35 different places. “We are many now.” 

In addition, Father Mark has collaborated to help with renovations to the main parish church. The church now has a new sanctuary, new sound system, and a new tile floor. “But we kept the pews, because the pews are still good,” he says. Many in the parish are young. Most are renters who work or study in the area for most of the year, then return home for several months. 

Father Mark got the chance to return to his home last August for the feast of St. Clare. He was able to celebrate a novena Mass at the monastery and visit with his family, calling it “a time to recharge, a time to revisit my roots.” 

He says he hopes St. Francis is happy with the work being done at San Vicente Ferrer. As much as St. Francis was a man of the poor, says Father Mark, “we are trying our very best to be with those who are considered existentially poor in our context.”