Among the privileged friendships that I enjoyed over the years was with a Monsignor Frank Gilligan. Monsignor, in the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis’ lore, was one of the three wise men from the East. They were three priests from the vocation-rich Diocese of Fall Rivers, Massachusetts, who signed up for the developing archdiocese in the 1930s. The archdiocese needed many imports to meet the requirements of a rapidly expanding Church.

Monsignor had a slender frame and stood about 5 feet, 5 inches. He was effervescent. He earned a Ph.D. from Catholic University in moral theology. The title of his thesis was: “The Morality of the Color Line.” An unwavering proponent of social and, in particular, racial justice, the monsignor was unafraid to utilize his powerful vocal chords in advocacy of the blacks. In his time, he was a prophet; he was a fearless leader.

An example of his ongoing activity to achieve change, was an incident with Clarence Mitchell, an African-American NAACP leader and its first labor secretary, who came to St. Paul for an event.  Monsignor had personally reserved a room at the St. Paul Hotel in Clarence’s name. He re-confirmed it. He was assured there was plenty of room.

When Mr. Mitchell showed up to register for his room, the desk clerk persisted, “There must be a terrible mistake. Unfortunately, there is not a room available for you.” Lurking around the corner was the monsignor who quickly stepped forward. His unrestrained booming voice blurted out, “What do you mean there is no room?” He then produced documents and the re-confirmation information. As a result of a spirited conversation with the hotel manager, it turned out there was a room available for Mr. Mitchell.

Like Monsignor Gilligan, there were many fearless clergy and lay persons who insisted on the civil rights of their black sisters and brothers and put themselves on the line to achieve a guarantee of these rights.

The arrival of the ship bringing the first slaves to the United States was at the Port of Jamestown in the Colony of Virginia on August 20, 1619. They were Kimbundu-speaking peoples from the kingdom of Ndongo. Slavery and its grandchildren — segregation, discrimination, racism, police brutality — constitute what has been termed “America’s original and ongoing sin” were born then.

In contemporary times, this pervasive evil has been addressed time and again. Rosa Parks asserted her dignity and sat in the front part of the bus where she was deemed “unworthy.” In the Supreme Court decision — Brown v. Board of Education — school segregation was declared unconstitutional. Lyndon Johnson led the country in enabling the Voting Rights Act of 1965. It is landmark legislation that prohibits racial discrimination in voting.

The patron saint of racial justice during this era was Martin Luther King, Jr. He upheld for all to see the radical equality of every human in the eyes of God. What stood out was his methodology of achieving progress — non-violence. Such a way of acting is at the heart of Christianity.

I was deeply pained as I watched from my living room in Minnesota the violent death of George Floyd. A white policeman relentlessly pressed his knee on the neck of a black man for eight minutes and 46 seconds, snuffing out life. Born was a catalyst, George Floyd, who in the giving of his life spurred a huge step in the march to end racism, an intrinsic evil, always wrong.

SUCH A WAY OF ACTING IS AT THE HEART OF CHRISTIANITY

For the black and Hispanic communities, a movement of liberation was created from the oppression of racism that was prevalent in the institution of police forces. Such liberation is a significant step forward in the journey of racial justice.

For a good proportion of the white community, it was liberation from the evil that resides in our hearts sometimes imperceptibly. The blatant light of truth shined out. A call to conversion was sounded. Needed once again is institutional change. If the partner to conversion, action, is authentic, it requires unwavering commitment.

No doubt, we are the beneficiaries of the moral compass of heroes such as Monsignor Gilligan. May we, in our time, be courageous in choosing always to do what is right.