The Thirty-first
Sunday of the Year (A)
On the Servant of
God Father Augustus Tolton
Dear
brothers and sisters,
Mother
Church presents the lives of the Saints to us as models of Christian living
because she sees something of the life of Jesus reflected in them. Each one of
us is called to form our hearts after the heart of Jesus so that we might each
become heralds of his merciful love in each aspect of our lives. The Apostle
Saint Paul so closely conformed himself to Christ Jesus that he could say to
the people of Thessalonica, “With such affection for you, we were determined to
share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very selves as well” (I Thessalonians 2:8). While he went about this work of sharing the gospel, he
said, “We were gentle among you” (I Thessalonians 2:7).
Gentleness,
of course, is one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, one Saint Paul mentions in
his letter to the Galatians (Galatians 5:23). Of all the fruits of the Holy
Spirit, it is perhaps the one least appreciated in our own day. Society, it
seems, is becoming ever most bombastic, ever more self-centered, and ever more
loud. We shout each other down, rather than listen to what each other has to
say with a heart desiring to understand. Something is wrong with us and so we
need someone to help refocus us on the life of Jesus, someone who can show us
how conform ourselves to his heart.
It
may be that one such man, the Servant of God Father Augustus Tolton, whose
cause for beatification and canonization is underway, died one hundred and twenty
years ago this past July. His life, which is intimately connected with this
Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, will be presented this week across central
Illinois in the play, Tolton: From Slave
to Priest.
His
was a life seemingly marked by opposition wherever he turned, save for a few
moments of calm. In Father Tolton, we find one who, with Saint Paul, trusted in
the Lord’s words: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in
weakness” (II Corinthians 12:9). Born April 1, 1854 in Ralls County, Missouri
to faithful Catholic parents, Peter Paul and Martha Jane Tolton, who were
slaves near Brush Creek, Missouri, Father Tolton remained a man of gentleness,
the fruit of a deep life of prayer.
In
1862, Martha heard talk of slave traders in the area looking for children.
Having herself been separated from her parents when she was sixteen, she feared
for her children and fled the farm. After a harrowing escape through fields and
over the Mighty Mississippi, they finally arrived in Quincy, Illinois,
forty-one miles away; Augustus was only seven.
In
1865, he enrolled in St. Boniface school with the permission of the pastor,
Father Schaeffermeyer, and found those both “hard of face and obstinate of
heart,” those whose hearts were proud and whose eyes were haughty (Ezekiel 2:4;
cf. Psalm 131:1). His enrollment led many to threaten to remove their children
from the school, to leave the parish, and even to call for the removal of their
pastor. Just one month after he enrolled, young Gus, now ten, withdrew from the
school.
Hearing
of his troubles, Father Peter McGirr, Pastor of St. Lawrence Parish (it would
later become St. Peter Parish) insisted that Augustus study in a Catholic
school. He promised he would personally see that Gus would have no trouble
there. Years later, Augustus recalled, “As long as I was in that school, I was
safe. Everyone was kind to me.”[1]
Deep
within his soul, he seems to have felt a strong desire to share “not only the
gospel of God, but [his] very self,” but because he had not yet heard of a
black priest, he thought the priesthood was beyond him (I Thessalonians 2:8). He
began serving Mass each morning before going to work at a local tobacco factory
and became close with two priests who were both impressed with his devotion and
thought he had a priestly vocation. They wrote letter after letter to
seminaries and religious Orders throughout the country seeking one that would
accept him; time and time again, they were told, “We are not ready for a Negro
student.”
When
he was twenty-four, Augustus opened St. Joseph School of Black Children in Quincy
One
day a long-awaited letter arrived for Gus: he was accepted to the seminary for
the Propagation of the Faith in Rome. Those ordained from this seminary would
be sent to mission territories throughout the world, with no choice as to where
they would be sent. Nevertheless, Gus was filled with great joy that day. He
arrived in the Eternal City at the age of twenty-six and was nicknamed, “Gus
from the U.S.”
Five
years later, he was ordained a deacon. He later said: “The day I was ordained
deacon, I felt so strong that I thought no hardship would ever be too great for
me to accept. I was ready for anything; in fact, I was very sure I could move
mountains – in Africa.”[2]
He had spent all of his spare time studying the geography and cultures of
Africa, certain he would be sent there, but the Lord’s ways are not our ways
(cf. Isaiah 55:8).
The
day before he was ordained a priest, Giovanni Cardinal Simeoni told Deacon
Tolton it was decided the night before that he would be sent Africa, but the
Cardinal over-ruled the decision. “America has been called the most enlightened
nation in the world,” he said. “We shall see whether it deserves that honor. If
the United States has never before seen a Black priest, it must see one now!”[3]
He was sent home, to Quincy.
It
was shocking news, but he had already promised his obedience. He must have
remembered the difficulties of his childhood and early adulthood in the United
States, but he trusted in the Lord even as he surely heard his words: “A
prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin
and in his own house” (Mark 6:4). Would the people take offense at him as they
took offense at Jesus (cf. Mark 6:3)?
He
arrived in Quincy in July of 1886 and was appointed Pastor of St. Joseph’s
Parish, which had been established as a parish for Black Catholics. He received
an enthusiastic welcome in the Gem City and was admired by all. They found in
him a “rich and full voice which falls pleasantly on the ears” and saw the
“whole-hearted earnestness” with which he went about his ministry impressed even
the local newspapers.[4]
His
ministry met with some success, but affairs soon turned sour when Father
Michael Weiss was appointed Pastor of St. Boniface Parish, just one block from
St. Joseph’s, for it was Father Weiss who took great offense at Father Tolton. St.
Boniface Parish was in debt and had given much to St. Joseph’s Parish. Many of
Father Weiss’ parishioners attended Father Tolton’s Masses and contributed to
his parish. Father Weiss forbade Father Tolton from ministering to whites and
repeatedly made it clear that contributions from whites belonged to white
parishes. This was the first time Father Tolton experienced prejudice from a fellow
priest, and it devastated him.
When
finally this hardship became too great for him to accept, he wrote to the
Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith. Without naming Father Weiss, he said:
There is a certain
German priest here who is jealous and contemptuous. He abuses me in many ways and
he has told the bishop to send me out of this place. I will gladly leave here
just to be away from this priest. I appealed to Bishop [James] Ryan and he also
advises me to go elsewhere.[5]
Soon
afterward, Archbishop Feehan told Father Tolton he would be welcome in Chicago,
so he wrote again to the Congregation: “I beg you to give me permission to go
to the diocese of Chicago. It is not possible for me to remain here any longer
with this German priest.” The reply arrived two months later: “If the two
bishops concur in giving their approval, go at once!”[6]
Just twelve days later, he left for Chicago with nineteen of his converts and
took up the pastorate of St. Monica’s chapel, where he was entrusted with the
pastoral care of all of Chicago’s black Catholics. After he left Quincy, St.
Joseph Parish closed for good.
One
woman who encountered him, Mary Elmore, said of Father Gus, “We who come in contact
with him in our labors and are witnesses of his ardent charity and self-denying
zeal, feel ourselves privileged to – bow the knee for his saintly blessing.”[7]
Within two years he began construction on a new church – that was never
completed – and ministered to some six hundred black Catholics.
Having
spent himself in the service of the Church, he died of heat stroke in 105
degree weather on July 9, 1897; he was forty-three years of age. St. Monica’s
became a mission and it took another two years for a full-time pastor to be
assigned to it. St. Monica’s closed for good in 1924.
His
is a life of deep faith and of perseverance. Speaking to a group of black
Catholics, he said:
I was a poor slave
boy but the priests of the Church did not disdain me. It was through the
influence of one of them that I became what I am tonight… It was the priests of
the Church who taught me to pray and to forgive my persecutors. It was through
the direction of a Sister … that I learned to interpret the Ten Commandments;
and then I also beheld for the first time the glimmering light of truth and the
majesty of the Church. In this Church we do not have to fight for our rights
because we are Black. She had colored saints – Augustine, Benedict the Moor,
Monica. The Church is broad and liberal. She is the Church for our people.[8]
Despite
the opposition he faced, he never lost his love of the Church or of the
priesthood, and never did he condemn Father Weiss or speak ill of him, so deep was
his gentleness. Throughout his life, Father Tolton could sing with the Psalmist,
“In you, Lord, I have found my peace” (cf. Psalm 131).
In
this he is a model for each of us; never did he cease his proclamation of the
Gospel or the sharing of himself with those he met. As Father Roy Bauer has
said, “Some people could easily judge that his life was not a success, but God
calls His servants to be faithful, not successful!”[9]
The fidelity of Father Tolton cannot be doubted, and for this reason he is a
model for us all and a continual reminder that “when I am weak, then I am
strong” (II Corinthians 12:10).
Father
Tolton found his place of refuge in the Lord and now we pray that he will be
declared Blessed and raised to the dignity of the altars. May his example and
intercession raise up many more such faithful and devoted priests in our
Diocese, that each of the Lord’s altars may have a holy and zealous priest to
administer the mysteries of God. Amen!
[1] Roy Bauer, They Called Him Father Gus: The Life and Times of Augustine Tolton,
First Black Priest in the U.S.A., Part Eight.
[2] Ibid., Part Fifteen.
[3] Ibid., Part Seventeen.
[4] The Quincy Journal, July 26, 1886.
[5] In They Called Him Father Gus, Part Twenty-four.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Mary Elmore, Letter to John R. Slattery,
SSJ, 1890-1891. In The Father Tolton Guild:
Official Organization for the Promotion of the Cause for Canonization of Father
Augustus Tolton (1854-1897), October 2017, 3.
[8] Roy Bauer, They Called Him Father Gus, Part Twenty-three.
[9] Ibid., Part Twenty-nine.
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