I got a testimony: Three defining moments

Of my almost 40 years of being a priest, 32 have been ministering with the African American Catholic communities in Boston and in Baton Rouge.  I can say without any hesitation and with a tremendous amount of gratitude that being with the Black Catholic community all these years has been the greatest blessing of my life. I can truly say that because of the testimonies of faith I have seen lived out in the lives of men and women whom I have been privileged to know, my faith and hope are stronger, my appreciation of the power of the word of God in the Bible is deeper and the overriding excellence of service is confirmed.

There are three moments in my life that stand out for me as defining moments.  The first was in 1988 when I first moved into a Black parish as a resident priest while I was a hospital chaplain.  One night I was walking home to the rectory and saw a group of Black men standing on the corner.  I crossed the street to avoid the group and went on home.  The next day, a parishioner, who was one of the men in that group, confronted me on what I had done.  At first, he teased me about avoiding the group but then said to me very seriously, “You know it hurt when I saw you do that.  I didn’t think you were like that.”  

I had to admit to him and to myself, “Yes, I am like that.” At that moment, the scales fell from my eyes and I saw clearly that no matter how good my intentions were, the reality of racism was part of me.  As an Irish Catholic kid in Boston that is how I was brought up.  That is what I had absorbed that Black men standing in a group signaled danger. 

This moment of truth caused me to reassess all my presuppositions and to work to see things in a new light. The truth is that if you are white in America your vision is clouded by racism, which is part and parcel of the dominant culture.  But you can free yourself of it if you admit the truth and work to see things as they really are, not as fear and bias distort reality.

My second life changing experience was studying at the Institute for Black Catholic Studies at Xavier University in New Orleans from 1992 to 2000, when I graduated with a master’s degree in Theology in Black Catholic Studies.  Those eight summer sessions introduced me to the beauty of the Black Catholic community in the United States.  My fellow students were priests, religious, lay men and women who worked in Black Catholic parishes, schools and institutions throughout the country.  

It was a tight community of worship, study and play.  My eyes were opened once again as I learned theology through the eyes of Black folk that I was never taught in the seminary. I learned about the history, the spirituality and the witness of Black Catholics who were “uncommonly faithful” to a church that never fully embraced them in return.  

As a white priest I learned how to become a more effective minister in the community by learning how to listen.  Many of the people I met during those years are still dear friends and companions.

Participating in Dialogue on Race Louisiana in the fall of 2016 in Baton Rouge was the third defining moment.  DORLA is a six-week facilitated dialogue on race with a random group of diverse Baton Rouge citizens.  Each week’s discussion is guided by readings so that the dialogue is based on facts and history and not on opinion or hearsay.  

Two things I learned from the dialogue.  First, I gained a deeper understanding from listening to the Black members of the group how the reality of systemic racism and white privilege function.  Racism is not only interpersonal prejudice and discrimination but also prejudice and discrimination backed up by power to enforce it in institutions. 

The second thing I learned is that change is possible.  When enough people say, “enough is enough,” and “we the people” work to change policies and procedures that exclude and hurt, then change will happen. To say that it will never happen, or things will never change is a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Change happens when we want change and are willing to work for it in collaboration with others.

I am grateful for these experiences.  They have made me a better person. When we confront racism and begin to work for change that brings justice and equity, we all benefit.  We all become better people.  Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly” (Jn 10:10).

Abundant life begins when we see every human person as a child of God and a brother and sister in Christ.

Father Clark SJ is pastor at Immaculate Conception Church in Baton Rouge.