Papal Haiku

Benedict teaches.
Francis models Charity.
John Paul lights the way.

My Ananias: Part I

So Ananias went and entered the house; laying his hands on him, he said, “Saul, my brother, the Lord has sent me, Jesus who appeared to you on the way by which you came, that you may regain your sight and be filled with the holy Spirit.” Immediately things like scales fell from his eyes and he regained his sight. (Acts 9:17-18)

I was 28 years old in the summer of the Jubilee Year 2000. I was very active in the Legion of Mary – so active that I was one of three people entrusted by the Regia (the regional governing body) to approach pastors throughout the Archdiocese of Detroit for the purpose of starting new parish chapters (called a Praesidium in Legion-speak.)

The three of us put our heads together, and decided to begin our efforts in the largest parishes in the City of Detroit itself. Our reasoning went something like this:

• The spirit of the Legion strongly suggests itself towards work among the poor and forgotten,
• The less-affluent areas of the city had greater need of the Legion,
• The most influential of the clergy were located within the city (near the Cathedral and Seminary), and
• If a pastor of a wealthy suburban parish complained about us, the Archdiocese would take immediate corrective action.

Okay, so that last one may have been a bit cynical, but it was certainly mentioned in our deliberations.

Off we went, not to other “traditional” parishes like our own, but to any parish that would have us. One of my counterparts, John, went to the poorest, most struggling parishes, thinking that a new Legion praesidium might breathe new life into a dying community. The other, Frank, went into parishes almost at random, talking to as many priests as he could. Both strategies worked well, I’m happy to say.

I targeted the largest parishes. My hope was to influence as many people as I could in the shortest possible time. It didn’t work. Large inner-city parishes make a lot of demands on their pastors’ time, and the priests I spoke with weren’t too interested in another group to direct or another weekly meeting to attend. I ran into brick walls everywhere I went, with the exception of Precious Blood parish in the northwest corner of Detroit.

Precious Blood (now closed) was an African-American parish strongly influenced by the charismatic movement. I was completely out of my element, and I knew it. The parishioners knew it too, and went out of their way to make me feel welcome. When I said I was there representing the Legion of Mary, a few of the parishioners became very excited. They were from West Africa, where the Legion is very active, and they were thrilled at the prospect of having a præsidium in their parish. It was these exuberant, spirit-filled ladies who introduced me to Bishop Moses Anderson – who would soon set my whole world on its ear.

To be continued…