Auxiliary Bishop Joseph Perry, episcopal vicar of Vicariate VI, recounts the events and the emotions surrounding the much-reported conflict between the South Side Catholic League and St. Sabina Parish over admittance to the independent sports association.

Furor over St. Sabina:
How the church heals itself

I had just arrived at my office the morning of May 31 when Sister Anita Baird called asking me, as quickly as possible, to come to the Pastoral Center for the press conference regarding the South Side Catholic Conference’s vote not to include St. Sabina Parish in their sports league.

I had not yet seen the headlines since I had left early for Mass at St. Columba School. I wanted to be with the children for their final Eucharist together as the school closed its doors the following week.

At the Pastoral Center, I read quickly the Chicago Sun-Times article, headlined, “You Can’t Play With Them!” and a feeling of sadness immediately came over me. Cardinal George’s Pastoral Letter on racism was issued only a few weeks earlier. Why was this coming so soon afterward?

The league’s 11-9 vote against St. Sabina was too close for a final decision; it dictated that the group come back to the table to talk it out with shared Christian reflection on the issues.

Everything indicated that the wrong things were said and reported. Issues mentioned, at least in the newspaper articles purportedly representative of the discussion before the vote—concerning young suburban mothers driving into inner city, fear for safety, crime, and crime statistics—immediately signal, for African Americans, deeper truths for which these same terms are merely codes. For me, the terms recalled the racial hysteria of the 1950s and ’60s.

African-Americans are profiled in our society as some of the worst human beings, if not predators, when it comes to white women, crime and other antisocial behavior—all that old stuff which heightens a sense of lack of self-esteem and dignity on the part of blacks.

Decent human beings know this profiling to be not true. Notwithstanding added realities of poverty and disadvantage for significant numbers, African-Americans are no more crime-prone than any other ethnic or racial group.

The fear for lack of safety as articulated through the newspapers does not take into consideration everyone’s fear—white or black or brown—to pass through any number of city and suburban neighborhoods.

I found myself thinking, “Why would anyone be afraid to drive through neighborhoods I live in and drive through everyday? On further thought, I’m apprehensive about certain white neighborhoods I must go into.”

I move in neighborhoods in the black community—poor, middle- or upper-class—and never see a white person, even in the safe ones, except for the brief visit of a city worker or delivery person. African-Americans are isolated in our society and this is not healthy.

Laws say we must work together, attend school together, use public facilities, eating establishments and transportation together. The end of the day we go back to our neighborhoods, exclusive by most counts, away from others not of our stripe where we live, learn, worship, recreate away from each other. Oddly, we don’t find this an anomaly but consider it a privilege and a right of American freedom. When certain groups of people are not free to move about in similar fashion, then really none of us is left to feel free and secure.

I must drive and walk through all kinds of neighborhoods—white, black, brown, poor, rich and exclusive. My sense of apprehension—and I consciously suppress these feelings—stems from the white neighborhoods, wondering if someone will stare at me or question my presence. I have heard the stories of black seminarians and black priests stopped by police, searched, handcuffed, questioned without reason near our major seminary and university at Mundelein. I know the same could easily happen to me, collar or no collar.

But I can’t decide never to drive to Mundelein or elsewhere. That would not be appropriate. The church’s work would never get done. But who in the white neighborhood would care that I was stopped, searched, questioned, harassed or even handcuffed?

During the furor over St. Sabina, there were some ugly calls for me and Father Michael Pfleger. Several even identified themselves as members of our parishes. It’s easy to say ugly things from a distance. I am confident these represent the few and the unusual.

That nine parishes first voted for St. Sabina’s inclusion tells me there are a lot of people who do not represent these callers or their attitudes. Everywhere I go I encounter many people of good will and many genuine Christians among them. Yet, our fears of each other can make us less than true disciples especially when it is time to stand up and be counted for what we believe.

I was a third- and fourth-grader at St. Raphael School in 1950s Englewood when the exodus of whites was getting under way. Here and there a classroom desk would be found empty when the day started. Sister never said anything. The missing student never said anything beforehand; nor did he or she leave a new address or phone number; nor did their parents invite me to their new house to play with their sons.

I guess it wasn’t for us children to understand what was happening in those days. And these mysterious moves and shiftings continue on.

I listen to our pastors decry the emptying of their parishes that continues unabated in the southwest corridor, feeling helpless to do anything about it. The effects of original sin keep us from appropriating the Christian message when it comes to issues black and white.

There is much work to be done to clean up the racial tone and the racial divide that plagues our communities. The church must lead. An immediate response to media interest on the part of the archdiocese was necessary from the very beginning. We cannot allow ourselves to become paralyzed by our fears, whatever they are.

I applaud Cardinal George and his response and for the guidance he has offered in the wake of the media blitz. He is our shepherd. He has a right to remind his flock what good they ought to be doing.

I thank Bishop Raymond Goedert and Bishop John Gorman and archdiocesan officials for their ministry and attention to this saga. I am proud of our priests who came together to hash out the issue. I am proud of the individual parishes and athletic board members who knew this decision had to be overturned and did the right thing by revisiting the matter.

For those who remain angered at all that has been said and done, I trust we might all benefit from greater understanding and greater tolerance. The cardinal’s pastoral letter on racism, “Dwelling Together in Love,” offers good suggestions for steps we can take as church for appropriate Christian witness with issues of race.

Fear for our safety can never be the prime concern. Fear for the modeling passed to our children must be the prime concern.

In the area of sports, adults and children view people of all races and colors competing on the TV screen.

Sports, even the Olympics, are a multicultural reality today, not always so in the past, as we know. And while parents’ hopes and dreams for their children are often channeled through their children’s accomplishments in sports, the world of children and their future are guaranteed to be racially diverse.

Why not bless their education with the complement of diversity to offset any unwarranted fears that could plague the children about their own future.