Today we remember St. Peter Claver, the Jesuit priest who ministered to slaves in South America in the 17th century. A native of Spain, he came to Cartagena, Colombia in 1610 and died there in 1654. 

Catholic nations like France, Spain and Portugal, early colonizers of North and South America, imported an estimated 11 million Africans from 1519-1867 to work on sugar plantations, mines and farms in the New World. Cartagena was a center of the South American slave trade. Slaves bought in West Africa were transported in ships that made the journey in appalling conditions; about one third died on the 6 or 7 week voyage. 

Peter Claver, enlisting Africans familiar with the various tribal languages and culture, helped the arrivals with food, medicine and the promises of faith. “This was how we spoke to them, not with words but with our hands and our actions. And in fact, convinced as they were that they had been brought here to be eaten, any other language would have proved utterly useless.”  

Many of these poor human beings accepted Baptism from their hands and became Christian. 

.Peter called himself the “slave of the slaves,”  He pleaded with slave owners on local plantations and mines to treat slaves humanely, but Spain needed gold and colonists appreciated the wealth brought by slavery,

Unfortunately, at the time Catholic and Protestant churches alike hoped slavery might bring happiness and cultural enlightenment to the black race. Church leaders condoned slavery and most of the church’s moralists found reasons to justify the institution.The churches were not alone in condoning slavery, most figures of the enlightenment, convinced of the inferiority of African and native Americans, condoned it too.

By the end of the 19th century the major western powers abolished the institution of slavery.

Pope Leo XIII canonized Peter Claver in 1896 and designated him patron of all Roman Catholic missions to the African peoples. In the USA Catholic liturgical calendar his feast is a memorial, not an optional memorial as it is in the Roman calendar. He reminds the American Catholic Church that racism and slavery were major problems in the New World, and they still are.

A letter of St Peter Claver

The arrival of a slave ship

Yesterday, May 30, 1627, on the feast of the Most Holy Trinity, numerous blacks, brought from the rivers of Africa, disembarked from a large ship. Carrying two baskets of oranges, lemons, sweet biscuits, and I know not what else, we hurried towards them. When we approached their quarters, we thought we were entering another Guinea. We had to force our way through the crowd until we reached the sick. Large numbers of the sick were lying on wet ground or rather in puddles of mud. To prevent excessive dampness, someone had thought of building up a mound with a mixture of tiles and broken pieces of bricks. This, then, was their couch, a very uncomfortable one not only for that reason, but especially because they were naked, without any clothing to protect them.

We laid aside our cloaks, therefore, and brought from a warehouse whatever was handy to build a platform. In that way we covered a space to which we at last transferred the sick, by forcing a passage through bands of slaves. Then we divided the sick into two groups: one group my companion approached with an interpreter, while I addressed the other group. There were two blacks, nearer death than life, already cold, whose pulse could scarcely be detected. With the help of a tile we pulled some live coals together and placed them in the middle near the dying men. Into this fire we tossed aromatics. Of these we had two wallets full, and we used them all up on this occasion. Then, using our own cloaks, for they had nothing of this sort, and to ask the owners for others would have been a waste of words, we provided for them a smoke treatment, by which they seemed to recover their warmth and the breath of life. The joy in their eyes as they looked at us was something to see.

This was how we spoke to them, not with words but with our hands and our actions. And in fact, convinced as they were that they had been brought here to be eaten, any other language would have proved utterly useless. Then we sat, or rather knelt, beside them and bathed their faces and bodies with wine. We made every effort to encourage them with friendly gestures and displayed in their presence the emotions which somehow naturally tend to hearten the sick.

After this we began an elementary instruction about baptism, that is, the wonderful effects of the sacrament on body and soul. When by their answers to our questions they showed that they had sufficiently understood this, we went on to a more extensive instruction, namely, about the one God, who rewards and punishes each one according to his merit, and the rest. We asked them to make an act of contrition and to manifest their detestation of their sins. Finally, when they appeared sufficiently prepared, we declared to them the mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation and the Passion. Showing them Christ fastened to the cross, as he is depicted on the baptismal font on which streams of blood flow down from his wounds, we led them in reciting an act of contrition in their own language.

O God, who made Saint Peter Claver a slave of slaves and strengthened him with wonderful charity and patience as he came to their help, grant, through his intercession, that, seeking the things of Jesus Christ, we may love our neighbour in deeds and in truth.Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

For this week’s homily, please watch the video below.

September School

Our young people are going back to school this month of September.

What about those of us who are not going to school?

You are all learners, Jesus says in the gospel, and learning goes on all our life. Whether we know it or not, we’re in school, all our life. 

Our first reading today from the Book of Wisdom reminds us how little we know:

 “Scarce do we guess the things of earth and what is without our grasp we find with difficulty.” (Wisdom 9:13-18) There’s a lot we don’t know. And we are slow learners; we learn with difficulty.

“Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain wisdom of heart,”  our psalm today says. We’re learners all the days of our life and we’re looking for wisdom of heart. 

Wisdom of heart. Where will we find wisdom of heart?

Artificial intelligence is in the news these days. Will that give us all the answers we’re looking for? If you listen to our gospel today we’re going to need more than artificial intelligence to make our way through life.

Jesus speaks of fundamental human relationships in today’s gospel. ( Luke 14;25-33) Will artificial intelligence help us the solve how we handle the way we live together as human beings, in a family, in marriage, in the way we made choices in life? I don’t think so.

Will artificial intelligence be the answer to the crosses we carry in life? Sickness? Disappointment? Failure? Death? I don’t think so.

In today’s gospel Jesus speaks of a king marching into battle? Will artificial intelligence solve the wars that are multiplying in our world today? It may give us a more sophisticated arsenal. But will it help us bring peace and justice to the table? Will it take away greed and pride that so often cause our wars and our lack of care for the world we live in? 

Press a button and you will find it there? I don’t think so.

“Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain wisdom of heart,” we pray today.

For one thing, I wish we could make our Sundays our school through the year. Sunday is our Sabbath rest, which we inherit from our Jewish ancestors.

On the Sabbath God rested from the work of creation, the Book of Genesis says. And so should we. God saw creation as good, the Book of Genesis says, and so should we. The Sabbath rest invites us to turn from the regular cares that preoccupy us, turn from the television, the internet, the things that fascinate us, turn from the usual work that engages us, and be open to the presence of God, who is our Teacher and Savior. 

Jews and Catholics both follow the commandment of God “Keep holy the Sabbath Day.” Both of us see the Sabbath as the day God rested, and so should we. Our only difference is instead of Saturday, our Sabbath is Sunday, the day Jesus rose from the dead. Sunday was the day  Jesus revealed himself to his disciples. Sunday is still the day he reveals himself. 

 Jesus cured  on the Sabbath.  He raised people from the dead. On the Sabbath he told his disciples to eat lest they go hungry. Sunday should be a day of joy and replenishment.  The Jewish tradition says you always receive a gift on the Sabbath. We say the same thing, but we say  Jesus Christ is the gift we receive.  

He knows us as we are. We’re learners, slow learners. “Scarce do we guess the things of earth and what is without our grasp we find with difficulty.” He is always here as our Teacher and Savior to bless us. Sometimes it’s a bit of wisdom, sometimes it’s just the strength to go on. But he will always bless on our Sabbath, our Sunday, our Sunday School.  

Wouldn’t it be good to see our Sunday Mass, not something we have to go to, but a time to experience a gift of God?                

Thomas Berry was a Passionist priest and scholar dedicated to the care of creation, which we remember this season, September 1- October 4. In the video above he describes the simple, moving experience of a meadow he had as a child, an experience that influenced all his later scholarly work and reflections.

This season, let’s look at the gifts of creation around us, the water we drink, the food we eat, the trees, flowers and plants around us, and ask them to speak to us. As Pope Francis says: “The simple gifts of creation have a value in and of themselves and each one reflects in its own way a ray of God’s infinite wisdom and goodness. Its value and ray of divine light must be discovered and to discover it, we need to be silent, we need to listen, and we need to contemplate. Contemplation heals the soul.”

In the  Eucharist we take bread and wine into our hands and bless God for the whole of creation they represent.They become our spiritual food and drink.The celebration of the Eucharist in the Season of Creation is a good time to deepen our vision and visit our brothers and sisters of creation in the light of this mystery.

We begin reading the Letter to the Colossians this week in our liturgy. Paul never visited this church near Ephesus. Commentators don’t agree about the situation Paul addresses in the letter. It’s not about human behavior or questions about human morality as the letters to the Corinthians are. 

The Colossians have faith in Christ; they love for one another. But some of them are trying to understand the cosmos. What’s this world beyond our human world all about? 

Don’t leave Jesus Christ out of that larger world, Paul says. He speaks to the Colossians– and also the Ephesians– about the Cosmic Christ. 

“Jesus is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For in him were created all things in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things were created through him and for him.He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the Body, the Church.He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things he himself might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile all things for him, making peace by the Blood of his cross through him, whether those on earth or those in heaven.”  (Colossians 1, 15-20)

Is Paul’s letter to the Colossians a timely message for our age too? Jesus Christ seems to have little place in our discussions on cosmology. Jesus Christ is not just Jesus of Nazareth, rejected by his own people in a little corner of the Middle East long ago. He is not just a teacher who tells us how to get along with one other. “Jesus is the image of the invisible God…in him were created all things in heaven and on earth.” “He holds all things together” for 4.5 billion years and beyond.. He brings peace through the blood of his cross. He lives and reigns with Father and the Holy Spirit, now and forever.  

Like the Colossians, we need to hear this, today.

September 3rd is the feast of St. Gregory the Great – greatest of the popes, many say. Gregory’s remembered, not on the day of his death, but on the day he became pope, September 3, 590, which probably was the day he thought himself condemned to death.

Years ago, I lived across the street from Gregory’s home on the Celian Hill in Rome. On my way to school, I would peek through the doors of the library of Pope Agapitus, a relative of Gregory’s, where archeologists were at work learning about what was once the largest Christian library in Rome. Barbarian tribes later plundered the place on one of their regular sweeps through the city. 

Bad times. Gregory was called from his monastery, not just to be pope, but to lead a city under siege. He was never healthy and never had much support. Most of Rome’s leading families moved to safer parts; the imperial government relocated in Milan. The burden of the city and the church fell on him. 

Called to a position he didn’t want, Gregory drew wisdom and strength from the scriptures, especially from figures like Job and Paul the Apostle. In his Commentary on Ezechiel, Gregory saw himself like Ezechiel appointed the city’s watchman, who had to go up to the heights and see what’s coming,

“I’m not doing this very well, ” Gregory says. 

“I do not preach as well as I should nor does my life follow the principles I inadequately preach.

  “I don’t deny my guilt, I get tired and negligent. Perhaps by recognizing my failure I’ll win pardon from a sympathetic judge. When I lived in the monastery I was able to keep my tongue from idle topics and give my mind almost continually to prayer, but since taking on my shoulders the burden of pastoral care, I can’t keep recollected, with my mind on so many things.

“I have to consider questions affecting churches and monasteries and often have to judge the lives and actions of others; I have to take part in certain civil affairs, then I have to worry about barbarians attacking and wolves menacing the flock in my care; I have a political duty to support those who uphold the law; I have to put up patiently with thieves and then I have to confront them,  in all charity.

  “My mind is torn by all the things I have to think about. Then I have to put my mind on preaching. How can I do justice to this sacred ministry? 

“Because of who I am I have to associate with all kinds of people and sometimes I say too much. But if I don’t talk to them the weaker kind of people wont come near me, and then we wont have them when we need them. So I have to listen to a lot of aimless chatter. 

 “But I’m also weak myself and I can get drawn into gossiping and then find myself saying the same things I didn’t care to listen to before. 

  “Who am I — what kind of watchman am I? I’m not standing  on the heights, I’m down in the depths of weakness. And yet the creator and redeemer of all can give me, unworthy as I am, the grace to see life as it really is and power to speak effectively of it. It’s for love of him that I do not spare myself in preaching him.”

You have to admire Gregory. However he felt, he’s the watchman caring for his city and his church. Weakness doesn’t prevent him from serving or being far-sighted. From the Celian Hill Gregory sent monks to England, then the ends of the world, to found the church there.

On his tomb in the Vatican is the simple inscription that describes him so well. “Servant of the servants of God.” 

We shouldn’t limit Gregory’s teaching on service to popes, bishops and priests either. It applies to anyone who directs others, like parents, teachers, politicians, directors and mentors of all kinds. You can’t serve others well if you don’t know yourself and your own weakness.

Kids go back to school in September and  I ask myself: are you going to school too? I’m looking at the church calendar for September. It’s a school of another kind, isn’t it? It calls for celebrating feasts, reflecting on the scriptures and listening to saints. They’re good teachers, not afraid to offer their lessons year after year.

The saints in our calendar are wonderful people, good teachers. St. John Chrysostom, September 13th, complained about people of his time who don’t know much about the church’s calendar at all: “Many people today just about know the names of the feasts we celebrate in church. They know hardly anything about where we come from and what it means… What a shame.” We’re forgetful listeners, the saint says.s

September has a parade of interesting saints, like Gregory the Great, September 3rd, the pope who lived when the Roman world was falling apart, but he didn’t fall apart. He believed in doing something and he wasn’t afraid to think big. He sent missionaries out to faraway England and northern Europe. 

In a world falling apart, he tells us don’t give up, be courageous. There are still things to be done. 

St. Peter Claver, September 9th, worked among the black slaves in Colombia, South America. He reminds us not to forget there’s still slavery in our world. Don’t forget it: let’s try to get rid of it.

Saints Cornelius and Cyprian, September 16, early Christian martyrs, remind us that people died for the faith we believe in. It’s that important. They were concerned too about God’s forgiveness. The world goes round because of the mercy of God.

September 26th , St. Vincent De Paul was inspired by God to take care of the poor in France. He started a whole movement in the church of people who looked after the poor. Is there someone at work now speaking for the poor?

St. Matthew, the tax collector, September 21. Jesus called him to be one of his apostles. Others looked down on him. But God didn’t look down on him, nor does he look down on us. 

St. Jerome. September 30th was a saint who loved the bible and constantly studied it. That’s something we should do too. Some of our calendars give us a list of the scriptures we’re reading in church. So why not read them with the church day by day. That would be a wonderful way to keep learning and hearing God speak.

September 14th we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. It’s like Holy Week in September. We need to be lifted up by the mysteries of Jesus continually. He died and he rose again. We die and rise again with him. 

September 15 we remember the sorrows of the Mary. Every month we have at least one feast of Mary, this month, September, we have two. We remember her birth on September 8. She’s our companion as we follow her son. She can help us understand him and do whatever he tells us.

On September 1st this year, Pope Leo called again to remember creation and care for the creation we are part of. Leo wants us all to join together and lift up this world we’ve endangered by our abuse.

September is a school. October, November….they’re schools too.