A Life of Radical Compassion: Remembering Sister Grace Miller

Sister Grace Miller, who dedicated decades of her life to serving the city’s most vulnerable, died Thursday at age 90. Known for her radical compassion and unwavering advocacy, Miller’s work transformed Rochester’s response to homelessness and left a lasting legacy of care, dignity, and inclusion.

Who was Jesus the Christ? Scholars, theologians, and seekers have offered countless answers: a Jewish rabbi, a rebel against Rome, a Buddhist sage, a Hindu avatar, the Messiah, God incarnate, a myth, a symbol. Each perspective reflects humanity’s longing for meaning, justice, and love.

But to Sister Grace, Jesus was not a theological abstraction. He was a man who lived among and served the poor. He walked with the marginalized, the hungry, the overlooked. He leaned into suffering, into streets others feared to tread, offering compassion without calculation. Sister Grace mirrored that life. Her faith was lived in the smallest acts: a meal shared, a door held open, a presence that said, You belong here. You are loved.

Born July 13, 1935, in Corning, N.Y., Miller joined the Sisters of Mercy in Rochester in 1955. She began ministering to people living in poverty in 1967, dedicating her life to service. In 1985, Miller, along with Sister Rita Lewis and C.W. Earlsey, founded the House of Mercy, a homeless shelter in Rochester. “I wanted them to feel like they were welcome,” Miller told 13WHAM earlier this year. “This was their home, and they could stay as long as they needed to stay, as long as they were OK.” Throughout her life, she never turned away anyone seeking help.

In a statement, the Sisters of Mercy described Miller as “a welcoming provider of crucial services, an innovative problem-solver, a prodigious fundraiser and a fierce advocate for those on the peripheries.” City Council President Miguel Meléndez said Rochester “is poorer in spirit and compassion” following her passing.

Her ministry was defined by action. Theology and debate mattered less than service. She did not ask who deserved care or measure the worthiness of society’s dismissed. She simply served—radically, tirelessly, as Jesus did—making Rochester itself a little more sacred. Sister Grace served those whom others would not, and she did so with unconditional love, understanding, and anything else she could provide. She spoke truth to power without fear, and for decades, she truly did God’s work on Rochester’s streets.

Her vision shone most clearly in the creation of Sanctuary Village. In December 2014, when the City of Rochester cleared the Civic Center Garage—a temporary refuge for hundreds of homeless residents—there were no alternatives. Sister Grace, alongside the House of Mercy, organized a coalition of advocates. Together, they established a tent city: first in Washington Square Park, then under the Frederick Douglass–Susan B. Anthony Memorial Bridge. Sanctuary Village became both a shelter and a visible protest, forcing the city to confront systemic failures.

During nearly three months of one of the coldest winters on record, Sanctuary Village sheltered more than 200 people: men and women, families and individuals, veterans, youth aging out of foster care, elderly citizens, migrants, and survivors of abuse. This diversity shattered assumptions about homelessness. Sister Grace taught that vulnerability is not a single story but a tapestry woven from economic hardship, mental health struggles, systemic inequities, and personal crises.

Volunteering at Sanctuary Village was a lesson in humanity. People from every walk of life came together to provide meals, medical care, and companionship. Sister Grace demonstrated leadership that united communities, channeled compassion into action, and amplified voices society too often silenced. She met the inevitable challenges—overcrowding, limited resources, tension, and occasional violence—with tireless presence, teaching dignity, patience, and resilience.

The legacy of Sanctuary Village endures. Its success in raising awareness and mobilizing resources laid the groundwork for long-term advocacy, inspiring models such as Mobile Housing Assistance Units (MHAUs) and Housing First with Wraparound Support Hubs. Sister Grace understood that shelter alone was insufficient. People need stability, dignity, and access to resources to rebuild their lives.

Her influence extended beyond programs and policy. She shaped a moral vision for Rochester, reminding the city that homelessness is not a problem to manage quietly but a crisis demanding visibility and humanity. Volunteers remember her guidance, colleagues remember her clarity, and city officials remember her insistence on justice. Her work lives on in every act of compassion echoing her example and in policies that meet need rather than simply contain it.

While in hospice care, Miller celebrated her 90th birthday in July, surrounded by family, friends, and community advocates. She said she hoped others would follow in her footsteps: “We all need to feel that we belong, and I want the people in Rochester to know that they all belong here and that they are loved.”

Sister Grace Miller passed away Thursday at age 90. Her passing is a profound loss, yet her legacy endures. Rochester is better, braver, and more compassionate because she walked among us. In remembering her, we honor a life lived in radical alignment with the ideals she cherished: justice for the marginalized, refuge for the displaced, and unwavering presence for those most in need. Her example calls us forward—not merely to mourn, but to continue her work, ensuring every neighbor has a place to call home and a community that sees them.

Sister Grace showed us what it means to live faith through action. She demonstrated that service is most profound when given without calculation, that leadership is measured not in titles but in the courage to act for others, and that consistent love can transform a city. Rochester carries her lessons forward, an enduring reminder that compassion and courage can change lives.