During a revival in San Antonio, I
met with a young man named Alvin, who touched my heart as a former server at
Holy Redeemer Church. As we sat down in conversation, Alvin asked me "why is it
that you wanted to see me." Alvin was a week away from going to prison for the
second time. I shared with him that twenty years ago when I came to his church,
he and his mother were among a handful of people who welcomed me. I was struck
by their genuine spirit of hospitality that went beyond the customary hello. I
was received into their lives and they were welcomed into mine. And even though
we never kept in touch with each other, twenty years later, I needed to say to
him, "I'm grateful for knowing him." Alvin was moved to tears. He shared his
struggle of being a father to his son. He was lost because of what was lacking
in his life. I was reminded again of the importance of being a mentor and a
brother to younger men as we journey in life and in the church. A love for each
other arose from the simple warmth of being present to each other in spite of
the circumstances of life.
"I am a man of unclean lips living among a people of
unclean lips." I am a black priest living among black people who are broken,
abused and neglected by not only society but also the church. More importantly,
I have a deep desire to serve my church and my people. Like many in the
Scriptures, "zeal for your house consumes me." I am passionate about serving God
and making the Black Catholic Church a means of salvation for the whole church
and the world, a great expectation and driving force for my ministry in the
church. "A charge to keep I have, a God to glorify." But today, right before the
moment the world celebrates the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, I find myself
perplexed because hostility has overwhelmed the expectation of hospitality that
I hoped would be the trademark of the Black Catholic community. Racism in
society and the church is alive and well; to think otherwise, proves my point.
I have faced opposition where black students
entering and investing their cultural gifts were met with fears and suspicions.
I struggled in an oppressive social and economic system of East St. Louis gave
poverty a hold new meaning. I wrestled with a Black Catholic community that
rather point blame than lift a finger to serve its own children. This is not the
first time that I have experienced this hostility, and, Lord knows, it will
probably not be the last. This is just another reminder that it is not my
kingdom; it's God's kingdom. It is not my desire, but God's will that must be
done. So before I "shake the dust from my feet" and move onward to another
pasture in New Orleans, I cry out "like a voice in the wilderness" - THERE MUST
BE A GOD SOMEWHERE. Now do not think that I see myself like John the Baptist or
even one of the prophets. No, I see myself as a slave lost in plantation
quagmire, wondering if the swamps of oppressive badgering will ever surrender to
the call to create "a highway for our God."
Lord knows what I as a black priest have
experienced. "We have no place to send you" said to me twice as a diocesan
priest in New Orleans by the personnel board of the archdiocese. "You brought
all those strangers into the church" spoken to me after my first year of
priestly ministry when I brought 500 new members into the church in one year.
"Black priests don't read" proclaimed to me even though I had just obtained a
second Masters degree. "We wanted to discredit you" angrily pronounced at my
10th anniversary of priesthood by parishioners. "Do you know how much you offend
people by what you do" alleged by a black priest, later bishop, who refused to
share with me who I was offending and what I was doing to offend them. "Those
Cheri boys" declared by black peers in religious life about me and my brother
for creating opportunities for good Black Catholic Worship. While these things
are to be expected, what makes them difficult to bear is when they are said by
your own people and black leaders in the church you respect and trust. Lord,
have mercy!
It is good that God gave me Franciscan brothers
who help me to discern God's purpose and God's design through the mire of it
all. My brothers temper my anxious spirit with a brighter picture of the
kingdom of God at hand. They point me to the cross and reveal its saving
grace that renews my troubled heart. They call me to a bigger reality and
recognize how God is making a way. I am grateful for the fraternal love that
keeps us committed to the Black Catholic Community. There are still
blessings to shower down upon us.
I always believe that God is preparing me. "He's
preparing me for something I cannot handle right now. He's making me ready
just because He cares, God cares." "I may not be all that you are. I may not
be a shining star, but what I am; I thank the Lord for making me His child."
Scripture says and I believe: "My son, when you come to serve the
Lord, prepare yourself for trials. Be sincere of heart and steadfast,
undisturbed in time of adversity. Cling to him, forsake him not; thus will
your future be great, accept whatever befalls you, in crushing misfortune be
patient; for, in fire gold is tested, and worthy men in the crucible of
humiliation. Trust God and he will help you; make straight your ways and
hope in him." (Sirach 2:1-6) I must confess that the
humiliation of my slavery in service to the church and my people sometimes
overshadows the joy I've found in serving the Lord; as well as it makes me
appreciate the blessings rising from the shadows.
Like Jeremiah, I feel the weight of those who
watch for my downfall much more than I hear the voices of those who pray for
success. My grandmother was right when she said, "Child, it is because you
doing something that people talk about you." Lord knows that "I have been
buked and I've been scorned. I've been talked about, sure as you've been
born." She also said, "When you do what is right, the devil gets busy. If
you were doing nothing, the devil would not be disturbed." I really try to
remember that as I continue to "not turn my back on my own" people and the
church. I am troubled by the weakness of my plight. Yet I am reminded "My
grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." 2
Cor 12:9 "Only do what is right and to love goodness and walk humbly
with your God." Micah 6:8
What bothers me most is that I've heard this
before from other black priests who have gone before me. I wonder sometimes
as I encourage young men to take up the mantle of priesthood after me, can
this cycle of being thrown into the cistern of internalized racism, petty
jealousy among peers and misdirected abuse from my own people will ever be
broken? I ask myself, "Can we ever rise above the plantation mentality to
see the dignity and honor of being all that we are called to be validly
Black and justly Catholic?" I believe that we can rise every time I remember
"Didn't my Lord deliver Daniel; then why not everyman." God chose an
insignificant place and an insignificant people to be born. "For nothing is
impossible with God."
God has opened a door for me with a new ministry
at Xavier University of Louisiana in New Orleans. As I serve on the campus
ministry team, I have found myself engaged in shepherding young minds for a
future full of hope. I am challenged by students, faculty and staff who are
intrigued by this friar minor who seeks a "new heaven and a new earth." I am
surprise how they remind me that a prayer, a song, a sermon or a smile I
offered, scratched where they itched. I find myself working with students,
faculty and staff on many levels. I am amazed by the spirit of hospitality
that lifts you up.
"O God, no place is so limitless that you do not
fill it and no place is so small that you are not in it. Humbled by your
intimate presence among us, help us to understand better how you are at work
in our world and to accept more willingly your mysterious and saving grace."
The Friars of the Sacred Heart Province
visit us at: www.befranciscan.com
or call us at: 773.753.1925.
