Monday, March 25, 2019

Loosing My Religion Special Edition: Black Church


I'm still on the Tour of Archdiocese of Louisville Catholic Churches in Louisville (there are quite a few AoLCCs that are not in Louisville, btw, just in case that designation doesn't seem to make sense). At this point, I've visited 51 of them, and so far as I can tell I have only 6 left to go. Today I visited St. Martin des Porres. It's one of the 4 or 5 Black Catholic Churches in Louisville:

St. Martin de Porres Catholic Church
St. Augustine Catholic Church
Christ the King Catholic Church
Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church
St. Bartholomew Catholic Church

("4 or 5" because I visited St. Bartholomew, and I wouldn't say it really qualifies as a Black Catholic Church, but this is the list of "Parishes With a Strong Black Catholic Presence" on usccb.org, and I figure that they should know. The underline means I've been to that church.)


I was a little hesitant to go there. Knowing that it is likely that you will be the only white person in a large gathering of people is a little hard to deal with. Not because it's a bad thing, and not because I've had bad experiences--quite the opposite, actually, as I've previously mentioned--but just because being...or seeming to be...The Obvious Outsider is always difficult for me. But I had a small window of opportunity today due to "child care" responsibilities, so St. MdP's 9:30 start time was the best fit for me vis à vis church attendance this Sunday.

And I'll confess that I was a little nervous when I parked my car and saw that the car in front of me and the car in back of me were both sitting on flat tires. But my nervousness disappeared as soon as I walked in. I was greeted at the door, greeted two more times as I entered the church, and greeted several more times shortly after I'd sat down. I don't know if this is "normal" for most churches, but it is certainly NOT normal for the vast majority of the Catholic Churches I have visited in Louisville. In fact, the only other time anything like this happened was when I visited Immaculate Heart of Mary--which, you might have noticed, is another Black Catholic Church.

Speaking of which.... I have friends who would bridle at my using the nomenclature Black Catholic Church. Some of them would be objecting to the identification of a church in this way, others would be objecting to the use of the word "Black." I would guess that none of those objecting would know very many Black people. Enough said?

Well, maybe just one more thing. This was the hymnal in the pew at St. Martin des Porres:


You can buy one on Amazon for $26.97 + $3.99 shipping. Its title? 
Lead Me, Guide Me: The African American Catholic Hymnal...and it is (and I quote) "Produced under the auspices of the National Black Catholic Clergy Caucus." So to my PC friends, I say...maybe you should get out more often. (Not that any of them will ever see those words here. Just sayin', sir.)

ANYway....

I really don't like the use of a piano during worship service. Maybe it's just because I grew up with the thrumming of the cathedral organ at Emmanuel Christian Church in Baltimore, Maryland. Maybe it's because Philip Glass entered my bloodstream in 1985 (when I saw some bits of Einstein on the Beach on a PBS documentary 1). Or maybe it's because I've been to so many churches where a piano was used and the sound was thin and tinny and not the least bit of a catalyst for a spiritual epiphany. So when I entered St. Martin des Porres and looked up in the choir loft and saw a beautiful cathedral organ, I was happy. 

Shortly after that, the piano music began. 

At least it was an electric piano, though, with some definite organ overtones. And yes, the music was Blacked Up. (And, as Danny--Chris Tucker--says in Silver Linings Playbook, "You know damn well what it means.") The choir was small, I think maybe six or seven people, and only one man, but when they started a practice run through of one of the hymns, I was instantly transported. It was amazing and energizing and soulful. 

The service itself basically fit the normal parameters of a Catholic church service. It ran a little bit longer than usual...about 90 minutes...but I think that was because of the music. There were several points at which normally a response would be spoken, but here it was sung. For instance, during the prayers part, the congregation sang the "Hear us, oh Lord!" part--though I'm not sure if that was the exact phrase that was sung. But it didn't feel long, and my only regret with respect to it was that I had planned to go to a second service at 11:00, and that wasn't possible. But hey, there's always next Sunday.

The priests, by the way, were white--Irish, I think--and Indian. The white priest gave the sermon, and I was really into it. He started off speaking about Mary Magdalene, and how she has received a bad rap over the years as she was misidentified as a prostitute...when in reality there is no such identification of her anywhere in the New Testament. This has been a major annoyance for me for many years. I can't think of a single movie version of the story of Jesus which has failed to identify Mary Magdalene as a reformed prostitute, and to me it just shows how lazy the writers have been. I'm not on the cutting edge of theology or history, but I've known that this was a misattribution for about thirty-five years. It's hard for me not to conclude that this juxtaposition was not just a way to devalue women in general, and one of Christ's foremost and most significant disciples in specific. (Case in point: Mary Magdalene is identified as the first person to encounter the risen Jesus.) So it was good to hear the priest talk about that. And then he took it to another level, eventually ending up with the message that in order to be a Christian, you had to get out into the world and do some good, not just punch the church attendance ticket and go home. (Not his exact words, but that was the image he used.)

Near the end of the service, there were some announcements. One of the last was delivered by a man who had greeted me before church and then come halfway across the sanctuary to share a sign of peace with me. (And reference that, the sign of peace was an extended thing...at least five minutes long...and maybe twice that...and the people really seemed to be glad to greet each other. It definitely wasn't just a pro forma exercise. I would guess that I was "peaced" a minimum of a Baker's Dozen Times.) And he asked Any Visitors to stand so that the church could recognize them. I was pretty nervous about this...especially so as the last time this happened--which, big surprise, was at Immaculate Heart of Mary--the visitors were also asked to say their names and a little something something, and I am extremely nervous about such impromptu acts of public speaking...so I thought about not standing up, but that seemed pretty silly with my white face a-gleamin' in the sun, so I stood up, and not only did the man not ask me to say anything, but he added, "If you don't have your own parish, we'd love to have you join us." Well let me tell you...that has never happened before in any of the 53 Catholic churches I've visited. (51 in Louisville, as previously noted, plus one in Rutland, Vermont, and one in The Bronx.) And then after the closing hymn, a woman came up to me and told me that she was glad that I had come and that she hoped that I would come back again. That has happened only one other time in my 53 Catholic Church visits...at St Boniface...and not to downplay it, because it was nice, but there were fewer than 40 people attending that service, so it really felt a little more desperate than friendly, knowhatimsayin'?

So there it is. I still have two more Black Catholic Churches in Louisville to visit. And I will confess that I know I'll be nervous about going to visit them. But I know that's just irrational, a result of my own insecurities rather than of my experience. When I visit a strange White Catholic Church I'm nervous, too...and there have been several times when I was so nervous that I pulled into the parking lot, sat for a minute, and then left without going in. But there's a difference, for sure: because when you're a White Guy and you go into a White Church, you don't stand out. It's hard for me to stand out. 

But you know...as I was sitting in St. Martin des Porres, I couldn't help thinking about the possibility of joining that church. Assuming I ever take the plunge and Go Catholic, of course.

More news as it happens.




1  Not that I actually remember that. There's this thing called The Internet, though, and I think it might know EVERYthing.

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