Georgetown Visitation Monastery, 1500 35th Street NW, Washington D.C., DC (2026)

10/16/2026

St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
Born into poverty in July of 1647, St. Margaret Mary Alacoque’s early life was marked by great faith and devotion, particularly to the Blessed Sacrament, even amid difficulties. When she was only eight, her father died, shortly after he had been cheated by a business partner. From the ages of 9 to 13, she suffered from a rheumatic fever that left her temporarily paralyzed. Despite the physical trials she endured, the selfless young woman said that “the heaviest of my crosses was that I could do nothing to lighten the cross my mother was suffering.” At some point during her illness, she made a vow of virginity. However, after her illness, she became swept up in the social scene of her day, forgetting her earlier vow. She danced the night away at balls, socialized with other young people, and even entertained the possibility of marriage. Returning home one night, she had a vision of the scourged Jesus. She believed that she had been disloyal to Jesus by forgetting her vows.
“The heaviest of my crosses was that I could do nothing to lighten the cross my mother was suffering.”
Spurred by this vision, she recommitted her life to Jesus and entered the Visitation Order at the age of 22. The sisters of the Visitation Order were meant “not to be extraordinary except by being ordinary, but eventually this would not be the case for Margaret. She was referred to by her sisters as “humble, simple, and frank, but above all, kind and patient under sharp criticism and correction.” The quiet sister was by no means a perfect nun. Her spirituality was one of simplicity, which made it hard for her to meditate and pray in the way the other sisters did. She was clumsy and slow due to her past health issues, which made everyday chores difficult. To an outside observer, Margaret would have seemed very ordinary.
A few days before Christmas in 1673, our Lord visited the young sister for the first time. He continued to appear to her over the next 13 months, explaining to her how much pain the lukewarmness of the faithful, particularly those in religious orders, caused Him. He revealed to her His human Heart, and it is from these revelations that we have the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. By Margaret’s own love, she could make reparations for the coldness and ingratitude of many. We are called to participate in this devotion by receiving Jesus in the Eucharist often and devoutly, especially on first Fridays and by making a holy hour each Thursday in remembrance of the agony in the garden.
“I need nothing but God, and to lose myself in the heart of Jesus.”
For many years following these revelations, as those around her learned of her visions, Margaret became an outcast from the disbelief and hostility of her sisters. Eventually, a new confessor believed her visions to be genuine and recorded her descriptions. St. Margaret would have preferred to live a quiet life, but Jesus called her to be a sign of His love and a victim for the failings of other religious. Her last words were “I need nothing but God, and to lose myself in the heart of Jesus.”

10/13/2026

Naming Names

by Dino D'Agata, English faculty

Pope Benedict XVI stated that in the modern era, Christianity has been reduced to ethics because the Enlightenment attempted to bring Christian values to society without Christ Himself. T.S. Eliot wrote in Choruses from 'The Rock’ that humanity dreamed of systems so great that no one would have to actually be good. This is the world bequeathed to us—one where the systems we generate to exact virtues from ourselves and others can turn into the very oppression they set out to redress. As Salesian educators, when we think of the little virtues, we often think of ethical rules to impose on ourselves and others, and these turn into the cudgels we use on ourselves and others from the summits of our own moral high ground.

In late 2023, when I was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer, a friend of mine in New York who had survived his own sarcoma told me over the phone, “Dino, you’re going to see the best come out in people. You watch.” Friends like him drove down from New York and went to the farmer’s market on Capitol Hill to bring me food they thought I could stomach. My first high school friend, Julie, who was battling dual breast cancer herself, found out from my sister that I was sick and threw everything she had into a large box and UPS’d it to me. I had coloring books, moisturizers, and a gorgeous afghan one of her friends knitted her. She texted me every few days, and we compared side effects.

A neighbor—a Turkish Muslim friend whose five-year-old son rides my mother’s rollator for fun—made me a turkey soup that was one of the few things I was able to digest on chemotherapy. Two Jewish friends ransacked Trader Joe’s the night before my first chemo to buy me everything they imagined I would enjoy. Katie Cole ’10 (English faculty) showed up at my house with a basket full of snacks, socks, and a water bottle because she knew to prod me to hydrate despite how awful anything I put in my mouth tasted and knew my extremities would get cold as my blood counts dropped. Peggy Hamilton ’85 (former English faculty) made a vegan casserole and brought it over; Elizabeth McCarthy (theology faculty) thrice baked me muffins without fat. Heidi Greenhalgh (school nurse) guided me through the pre-diagnosis, treatment, and illness itself with her friendship and advice, and visited me at home after my surgery.

I asked for none of this. Here’s more:

On my wall I have two pictures of myself and another friend: the top shot is the two of us during the first chemo infusion; the bottom shot is the two of us at the last chemo infusion. I was down to 140 pounds and had no hair in the second shot. I never asked him to come with me. He came because years prior, when he accompanied someone to his first chemo treatment, they had to stop the infusion because the guy suddenly had the feeling of small knives piercing him all over, and He didn’t want me to be alone if I had the same reaction. This same friend called me every night to see how I was doing as the effects of the chemo were accruing.

In addition to this and another friend’s presence—both of whom were with me at the hospital the day the diagnosis was confirmed—texting Heidi and Peggy and Nori ’97 (principal) and Barbara (president) and Alexis (English faculty, who never started a meeting with me her first year at Visi without saying, “First, how are you?”)—to say I was getting through the infusion, or that my CA119 was dropping again this week, indicating I was responding to the treatment, kept me from feeling desperate. Tom Farrell (world languages faculty), Mark Pennybacker (science faculty), and Carola Williamson ’92 (admissions) did the Bellringer ride on my behalf. Luke O’Connell (theology faculty) used free time to drive me to an appointment where I’d be sedated and couldn’t drive home, and he came to visit me in the hospital after my surgery—though I only vaguely remembered, as we laughed about later, because I was so sedated the day he showed up. Taffy Phan ’26, one of my students who had volunteered at the hospital, came to see me in the ICU the day I was discharged. Last Christmas, to thank her for taking my mother to doctors’ appointments and for subbing for me during my surgery, when I gave Christine McGovern (former English faculty) a box of chocolates from Neuhaus, she looked at me, teared up, and said the biggest Christmas present I could have given her was that I was okay.

In short, as my friend from Brooklyn had said, I saw the best come out in people—and the worst: some people who’ve known me for a long time tactfully avoided eye contact or pretended they didn’t notice when we happened to be in the same place, and I had no hair and barely had the strength to stand up.

Christ told us that He didn’t come to bring peace, but a sword, and in these moments, I saw just where that sword cut.

Cancer changed me because it brought home to me how Christ was not a set of ethics or virtues that had to do with my behavior in reality but a God-made-flesh whose resurrected Presence came to me in mysterious ways through both people I know and others like the Pakistani woman in the hospital parking lot who didn’t take Apple Pay and who, when I told her I was there for chemo, waved it off and would not let me pay back the next time I went. The sickness seemed to level me to ground zero, where I was able to perceive that all of reality is a manifestation of His Incarnation, and that the key to well-being isn’t even your own good behavior but the openness to seeing Him in all things. That is not to say that we aren’t responsible for our actions or for our virtues, but that our actions and virtues should start from the perception of Him active in and around us, and not from our own intellectual constructions without Him.

What all these people and others I may have left out have in common is not a manufactured virtue, but how, contrary to the distant judge bequeathed by the Enlightenment mentality who left us cold behavior parameters despite how ethical they sound, when the real Jesus came to them in the form of a guy who was sick in their midst, they visited him and fed him when he was hungry, put socks on his feet when he was cold. Some were Jews or Muslims, some were Protestants, and some were just neighbors whose beliefs I have no idea of, but who offered me their phone numbers and rides to the hospital should I need it. Sadly, some of the Catholics I have known all my adult life were put off by the curveball of a cancer diagnosis because it did not fit into the scheme of what they could define with their doctrinal ethics, some ultra-liberal, some ultra-conservative. But these tended to be on the same par: people who were thrown off by the sick Jesus in their midst because he obliterated in them what was little, and not virtuous at all.

09/30/2026

Here is a biographical documentary film. It traces the life of Fran...

08/26/2026

Sr. Mary Philomena Tisinger, VHM
Born August 18, 1932
Professed March 19, 1954
Died August 25, 2026

"To prefer God’s Will to our own is the highest act of holy love. Thy will be done, not mine."
- St. Francis de Sales, The Treatise on the Love of God

Sister Philomena lived her Visitation vocation with a deep trust in God’s loving Providence, offering her many gifts in service to her Sisters, students, and the broader Visitation community. Born Elizabeth Ann Tisinger, she was shaped by a strong foundation of faith and family, beginning with her grade school years at St. Gabriel’s School in Washington, D.C. Sister entered Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School in 1946. A gifted athlete who excelled in every sport she played, Betty, as her friends affectionately called her, served as president of the Athletic Association during her senior year and carried her gifts of leadership and service throughout her life.

After graduating from Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School in 1950 and receiving an Associate of Arts degree from the Georgetown Visitation Junior College in 1952, Sister Philomena felt called to join the Georgetown Visitation Monastery. She entered the Monastery in 1952, first as a postulant and then as a novice, before continuing her studies in Biology at Trinity College (Trinity Washington University), where she earned her bachelor’s degree, and later at The Catholic University of America, where she earned her master’s degree in Biology. Her love of learning and scientific curiosity shaped her early years of ministry as she taught General Science and Biology at Visitation. Sister Philomena was a creative teacher who enjoyed sharing the wonders of God’s creation with her students.

Though she was quiet and gentle by nature, Sister Philomena’s thoughtful teaching style, deep prayerfulness, and contemplative spirit were profound gifts to the life and holiness of our community. She had a way of offering herself through attentiveness, reflection, and faithful care for those around her.

Though leadership was not something she sought for herself, Sister Philomena’s deep love for her community and her faithful embrace of Salesian spirituality led her to serve as superior of the Georgetown Visitation Monastery beginning in 1978. She continued in that role every other six years through multiple terms until 2008, guiding the community with wisdom, humility, and a profound commitment to the values of the Order. She also served the wider Visitation community as President of the Second Federation of Visitation Sisters in the United States from 1984 to 1996, offering her leadership and insight beyond the walls of the Monastery.

At the heart of Sister Philomena’s life was a profound devotion to the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, especially the call to surrender oneself completely to God’s will. She found particular inspiration in The Treatise on the Love of God, especially the Ninth Book on abandonment to God’s loving Providence. When she received a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease after completing her service as superior, she met this new and difficult chapter with the same faith that had guided her entire life. In accepting this unexpected path, Sister Philomena offered herself anew to God, living the very surrender she had long contemplated and cherished.

Reflecting on her vocation, Sister Philomena once shared how her understanding of God’s call had deepened over time:

"My vocation rather [is] something the Lord has done for me – something he is still doing for me on a day-to-day basis. Each morning the question has become: 'what am I going to let him do with me today? Not, what am I going to do for him today?'"

She continued:

"I believe that I will stop growing in my vocation if I ever stop saying YES each morning to what his Good Pleasure has planned for me."

This spirit of openness, trust, and surrender defined Sister Philomena’s journey. She came to see her life not as something she accomplished for God, but as a gift continually shaped by God’s love. Her final hope was beautifully expressed in her own words: “O Jesus, what I have done is nothing, nothing at all, what you have done for me is EVERYTHING!”

For many years, Sister Philomena was lovingly cared for by a devoted Infirmary staff and her Sisters, who continued to surround her with the compassion and dignity that marked her own care for others. Even as Alzheimer’s disease limited her ability to communicate, glimpses of Sister Philomena’s gentle spirit remained. Among the few phrases she continued to express were simple words of gratitude and love: “Yes, thank you, I love.” Those words offered a beautiful window into the heart of a woman whose life was rooted in love.

Those who knew Sister Philomena also remember her affection for dogs, who were special companions throughout her life. She was often seen around campus with her dogs, including her beloved black Labradors. At the time of the 1993 fire, she named one of her dogs after Father Tipton, affectionately calling him “Tip.” Nicholas and Gabriel, also black Labradors, joined Sister in later years as she drove her cart around the campus daily, greeting everyone with her lovely smile and gracious greeting.

We give thanks for Sister Philomena’s faithful witness, her quiet strength, her leadership, her love of learning, and her unwavering trust in God’s Providence. As her dear friend, Sr. Mary Berchmans reflected, “I can hear our dear Lord welcoming her with these words: ‘Well done, ever faithful Philomena, come now and enter into the everlasting joys your faithful life has won for you.’” May Sister Philomena now rest in the fullness of the joy she so faithfully sought, united forever with the God she loved and trusted so completely.

Please join us in honoring the long, faithful life of Sr. Philomena

Visitation in the Chapel: August 31 from 2:00 p.m.- 9:00 p.m.
Chapel of the Sacred Heart
(enter through Founders Hall)

Mass of Christian Burial: September 1 at 4:00 p.m.
The Catherine E. Nolan Performing Arts Center

Burial and reception to follow.

In lieu of flowers, memorial gifts in honor of Sister Philomena may be made to Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School.

08/20/2026

Enter Into Life
DeSales Weekly Spiritual Reflections

Fr. Joe Newman, OSFS, speaking at the St. Francis de Sales School faculty and staff meeting.

On Monday of this week, the faculty and staff of St. Francis de Sales School gathered for the first time for the new academic year. I, a graduate from Class of 2003, was proud to be among them.

We began by celebrating Mass. I was preaching, and, truthfully, I could not think of a homily until about an hour before Mass.

The Gospel was from Matthew, and I focused on 19:16-17.

A young man approached Jesus and said,
“Teacher, what good must I do to gain eternal life?”

He answered him, “Why do you ask me about the good?
There is only One who is good.
If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.”

“If you wish to enter into life…”

There was Fr. Ebenhoeh, OSFS, who taught me chemistry. When he spoke about the structure of atoms, he was doing more than teaching me chemistry. He was sharing with me something of the mystery he loved. Enter into life.

There was Mr. Keller, who taught me literature. Through the story of Odysseus in The Odyssey, he invited me to discover how an ancient epic poem could reveal timeless truths and insights into my journey. Enter into life.

There was Mr. Collier, my band director, who taught me the beauty that emerges when every instrument has its part and becomes one orchestra. Enter into life.

I thought, too, of our morning prayer, which always begins with the invitation: “Place yourself in the presence of God.” Enter into life.

Today, our new novice, Bill Grebe, enters the novitiate of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales. His yes is another witness to the invitation. Enter into life.

And on Saturday, Chris Allen will complete his novitiate and enter more fully into Oblate life through his profession of vows. Enter into life.

Our spirituality is one of intentionality. Do I wish to enter into life? The invitation has always been there, and it is here for us now. However, the invitation goes even deeper. It is not simply an invitation to enter more fully into my own life, but to Live Jesus and enter into the life of Christ here and now, in this moment, and to allow his life to become alive in me.

“If you wish to enter into life…”

May God be Praised!

Fr. Joe Newman, OSFS
Provincial
Toledo-Detroit Province

08/18/2026

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

08/16/2026

Every summer, tens of thousands of Vietnamese American Catholics ga...

08/15/2026

There is no doubt that at the Assumption of the most holy Mother of the Savior all the angels were festive, celebrating her coming in all manner of joyful songs. Joining our wishes and affections to theirs, we ought to have a solemn feast with exclamations and songs of triumph: Who is this coming up from the desert, flowing with delights? (Sg 8:5).

And was not this the most beautiful and magnificent entrance into heaven ever seen, second only to that of her Son? For what soul was ever received there so full of perfection, so richly adorned with virtues and privileges? She comes up from the desert of the lower world, but nevertheless so perfumed with spiritual gifts that, excluding the Person of her Son, heaven has nothing comparable. She comes up like a column of smoke laden with myrrh, with frankincense: Who is this, it is asked in the Song of Songs, coming up from the desert like a column of smoke, laden with myrrh, with frankincense, and with the perfume of every exotic dust? (Sg 3:6)....

The Queen of Sheba came to visit King Solomon to consider his wisdom and the beautiful order of his court, and at her arrival she gave him a large amount of gold, spices, and precious stones. Never again did anyone bring such an abundance of spices as the Queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. But the Virgin, coming up to heaven into the court of her Son, brought with her so much gold of charity, so many perfumes of devotion and virtue, such a great quantity of precious stones of patience and sufferings that she had borne in his name, that...we can truly say that never was so great a quantity brought to heaven. Never did anyone present so much to her Son as did this holy Lady.

SAINT FRANCIS DE SALES
Saint Francis de Sales (t 1622) was a great figure of the 17th-century rebirth of Catholic mystical life. He is a Doctor of the Church.

08/13/2026

Feast day of St. Jane de Chantal.

It is August 12, 2026, and I am wondering what St. Jane de Chantal’s life would look like if she were walking the halls of Founders and up the hill to St. Joe’s and Berchmans, around the Moore and McNabb fields, through the Fisher and Nolan Centers, past the front gate, and eventually onto 35th Street. Would she make eye-contact with the men and women who walk and jog past her? Would anyone engage her in conversation to find out how she is doing and whether she has any thoughts about the summer weather, the World Cup, or the new Tom Holland movies? Back on campus, how would she address the faculty and staff at our first gathering in August? What, if anything, would she ask us to prioritize during the 2026-27 school year?

I do a lot of wondering on my daily drives into work. Since I’m the only one in the car, I’m the only one answering the questions, and I’m always right. Just as often, though, I’ll wonder about the thoughts of my coworkers. I’ll remind myself that when I get to school, I need to take time away from my desk to talk and ask them questions, and to listen carefully to their ideas and opinions. So, how would my coworkers respond to a question about how Jane de Chantal in 1610, Annecy, would compare to St. Jane de Chantal in 2026, Washington, D.C.?

For background, in the 1600s, St. Jane de Chantal encouraged the Sisters of the Visitation to see every person as an individual and to recognize that each person may be inspired by God and guided to God differently (Formation Guide, 34). I could spend HOURS in my car thinking about how and where God inspires and guides us -- through working, socializing, or praying -- in the carpentry shop or McNabb Lab, in the dining room or at a potluck, in the chapel or at the Sisters’ cemetery. There are so many ways and places where we find God and where God finds us.

In its infancy, the Visitation order of women took one vow -- love. This is how I know what St. Jane de Chantal would gently shout out to us at our first meeting in August, and it’s how I know what she would ask us to prioritize during the 2026-27 academic year -- love.

It’s always love.

May God be praised 🙂

Liz Burke

07/23/2026

No Limit

DeSales Weekly Spiritual Reflections
We are concluding our annual International Meeting of Major Superiors here in Annecy, France. Each year, the Superior General, his General Council, and the Provincials from around the world gather for prayer, renewal, and discernment about the life and mission of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales.

You can imagine the first morning of our meetings. Many of us had just crossed multiple time zones. We were jet-lagged, a bit dazed, and facing an opening day full of prayer and discussion. Naturally, one of my first stops was the coffee machine. As I stood there waiting for my coffee, I noticed a large sticker on the front of the machine that read, "No Limit."

In my sleep-deprived state, the thought that the coffee machine had "no limit" was humorous since I came to the machine specifically facing my limitations.

Those two words, “No Limit,” lingered with me during the following meetings. My daily experience is one of many limits. There are limits on time, energy, personnel, resources, and my own wisdom, patience, gentleness, and compassion.

I’ve spent significant energy trying to escape, ignore, and overcome my limits. I search for inexhaustible energy, endless patience, and infinite wisdom. But those words don’t describe me, and they never will.

St. Francis de Sales would not ask us to become limitless. He would invite us to become humble. Humility doesn’t admonish our limitations; it blesses them.

Our limits are sacred when we shift our gaze from the one who is limited to the One limitless. "No Limit" belongs to God. It was never about me in the first place. It was always about the Limitless One.

May God be Praised!

Fr. Joe Newman, OSFS
Provincial
Toledo-Detroit Province

Georgetown Visitation Monastery

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