Sister Rita Lee has made quite an impression on me. She’s something of a celebrity these days, though when you meet her you’d never realise. The BBC has followed this extraordinary nun over two six-part TV documentary series, charting her work at The Lally Centre in Collyhurst, Manchester. Collyhurst is one of the most deprived areas of the city, and no one has a heart for the poor quite like Sister Rita. Mind you, she doesn’t take prisoners. Known locally as “Attila the Nun” Sister Rita started The Lalley in her 62nd year. Ten years on and she’s as passionate as ever for those at the bottom of the heap.

My first conversation with Sister Rita didn’t go too well. I telephoned her in the hope that we she’d agree to meet me. It was immediately clear that I’d phoned in the middle of a busy session at The Lalley, and I could hardly make myself heard over the hubbub. When the Sister realised I was “another one of those” the receiver was unceremoniously shunted across to her faithful long-suffering manager, Max Alvarez. Evidently the BBC series has spawned many telephone enquirers like mine, and there’s been a string of food bank tourists who’ve wanted to make the pilgrimage to Sister Rita’s remarkable operation in this run-down borough.

The Lally is an outreach of Caritas, a ministry arm of the Roman Catholic Church. The middle one of seven children and born in County Cork in the Irish Republic, Sister Rita is a lifelong Catholic. At the tender age of 18, she travelled to Manchester and joined an enclosed order of nuns. A single corridor ran to the school in which she taught. In those days, that was the only contact Sister Rita had with the outside world. Later she qualified as a Social Worker, and became a whole lot more clued up.

Whoever you are and whatever you’ve done, Sister Rita puts you at your ease immediately. At 4’6” she’s not in the least bit threatening, although, as I’ve said, there’s no messing with her either. And that’s a good thing. There are plenty of “chancers” on the Collyhurst estate who’d be only too willing to try and pull a fast one over a sweet little old lady. Not Rita, though. Appearances are deceptive and this pensioner is as streetwise as any teenage gangster. To put it rather indelicately, Sister Rita’s ‘crapometer’ is finely tuned and highly sensitive. She can detect a scally wag at 100 paces, and she knows exactly how to deal with them too.

Tricksters to one side, if Rita hears about a situation of genuine need she can’t get there fast enough. Sometimes that’s got her into trouble, because form-filling has to play second fiddle to actually doing the work. And if something can be done, it will be, and in double-fast time too. Rita’s network of contacts goes to the very top of the City Council, and the word “no” simply isn’t in her vocabulary. This indomitable Sister has little time for political correctness and stubbornly refuses to play by the rules, whatever they may be. She told Secretary of State Iain Duncan-Smith that his benefits sanctions were cruel. As I say, she doesn’t mind who she offends. It’s just that she’s on the side of the poor. And since that’s the side God Almighty is on, the balance rather tips in her favour…

All this is good news for Collyhurst’s residents. Especially as many have had a raw deal in life. Poorly educated, often through no fault of their own, the majority have been denied the opportunities that successive governments have claimed are “available to all” in our prosperous booming economy. The problem is, that prosperity doesn’t reach parts of the U.K. like Collyhurst. On estates like this one, the paucity of job opportunities, the ever-increasing cost of living and the iniquitous scarcity of suitable housing all conspire to make life very difficult indeed. Many in Collyhurst close to despair have cried on Rita’s shoulder, and in all reality, some would almost certainly not be here today were it not for the Christ-like compassion of this remarkable woman.

All this makes recent developments all the more sad. You see, Sister Rita has resigned her post at The Lalley, and her ever-loyal Peruvian manager, Max Alvarez resigned too. At 72 years young, Rita had been wondering how much longer she could continue meeting the tsunami of human need that greeted her every day. Over a simple lunch in the city centre, this ever-gracious saint (though not in the Roman Catholic understanding of course), explained to Val and me that she’s at complete peace over her decision, though she concedes it was very hard at the time. In any event, her order is known for it’s submission to the will of God in all things, and for dear Sister Rita, this means that surrender to Jesus is very much the order of the day. “Nothing makes sense without him”, she says.

We gleaned more about relating to the poor in two hours with Sister Rita, than in reading any number of learned books. In fact, our conversation was so insightful that we recorded it so as not to miss a thing. Later that afternoon, as we returned this unique individual to her simple convent home, she turned to us and said “you will come and visit me in Rome, won’t you?!” We thought she was jesting, but Rita was absolutely serious.

So, that’s how we have come to be on an easyJet flight from Bristol to Flumicino. We didn’t need too much persuasion, as we fell in love with the city two years ago, and returned last year for a brief stay. Our little hotel has become a second home, and the close-knit staff at Parlemento are like family. Set midway between the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps, this uncomplicated but spotless boutique hotel couldn’t be better situated. When we booked our two-night stay we had no idea where in the city Sister Rita would be staying. We’d tried to ask her for this information several times, but all to no avail. “I’m going on the overnight sleeper train” she told us. “If God had meant us to fly he would have given us wings. Besides, the sisters will meet me at the station and take me to the convent”. Finally we got the information we’d been waiting for, and were delighted to discover that the Institute Mater Dei is in Via San Sebastiánetto, off the Piazza Di Spagna. Just five minutes walk from Parlemento, meeting up with our friend couldn’t be easier.

Sister Rita decided to take time out with God in prayer and reflection.  The peaceful convent of The Poor Servants of God in beautiful Roma provided the perfect location.  Surrounded as she is by some of the most magnificent churches and cathedrals in the world, if Sister can’t reconnect with God there se won’t succeed anywhere. She’s actually spending several weeks in Italy, with the intention of having unhurried and uninterrupted times of prayer and reflection. It will be quite a change to juggling the fast-paced clamour of human need that she’s so familiar with. Our visit will mean that Rita has to break out of her seclusion in order to have lunch with us. We’re aiming for a backstreet pavement trattoria, hopefully in the Spring sunshine of Italy’s beautiful capital city. Doubtless, home-made pasta in a delicious sauce will be consumed, probably washed down by a crisp Frascati. And we’ll talk, and talk, and then talk some more.

You see, we’ve discovered we have a huge amount in common with Sister Rita. When we read the epistle of James, all three of us are cheering. “Brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds…” [James 2 v14-18].

Sister Rita is enthusiastic about our hopes for “The Hub” on Canford Heath, but her eyes really light up when we begin to describe some of the needy families we’re already serving. You see, the work of “The Hub” isn’t dependent on us having a building. In fact, it may well be that the Lord draws us deeper into relationship with the community in readiness for the building.

Sometimes, just sometimes, God arranges what we call a “divine appointment”. We always know when it happens. There’s an immediate connection. Call it “kindred spirits” if you like, but I prefer to understand it as the Living Spirit of God calling out from one like-minded believer to another. The psalmist said something about “deep calling to deep” and it’s very much like that. Our time in Manchester with Sister Rita was undoubtedly a divine appointment. Strange as it may seem, our second encounter with Rita, albeit in one of Europe’s most iconic capital cities, is just a follow-up appointment.

For us, there’s only one person we can invite to open “The Hub” when the building is finally up and running, and that person is Sister Rita. And we’ll have to have Max Alvarez come too. They go together, the two of them. And they’re a formidable team.

God knows what he’s doing, and that’s always good to remember. And God is most definitely giving us green light after green light where The Hub is concerned. You can’t escape it. “The righteous care about justice for the poor” (Proverbs 29 v7), and that means God cares too. And if God cares so much, who are we not to?