In Canada and beyond, are Black women seen and heard in the Catholic Church?

Can you imagine suffering from an illness for twelve years and receiving little to no relief? Further, how about the stigma from others who knew in the community? Nonetheless, you hear about this man named Jesus, and everyone is talking about him. A great preacher, teacher, and healer, and all the crowds gather around him. There is no going towards him and asking for relief. You know that, given your low social status, this is just not a possibility. Therefore, what do you do? 

“She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his clothes, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped.”
(Luke 8:44) 

Where did a woman like this, scorn of her own community, receive such faith and belief that Jesus could heal her? There were no words spoken. Simply reaching out, a touch of his clothes was the faith she carried in her heart. I think many Black women in the Catholic Church have this kind of faith. A faith that says no matter how painful the circumstance, it will remain strong in Jesus Christ so that a simple touch can bring forward great healing. 

Recently, a dear friend shared that her brother had died. Without going into all the details, I will note that what came to my mind is how much she has been through physically, emotionally, and spiritually in the last few years. Receiving a medical diagnosis did not stop her energy; she had to become an outspoken advocate. She is also a woman who is a sister in Christ. She is very aware of his presence in her life and what he has done for her. It is so refreshing when we share this faith and love of Jesus Christ in nearly all of our conversations, never forgetting the light of the faith and what Christ has done and will do for her as his adopted daughters.

Black women have a special role. They transmit the faith not just in teaching but in lived-out faith, especially during pain and trauma. Both seem to be some of the heaviest burdens we are asked to bear. They, like the woman in St. Luke’s gospel, are often not seen by others, and sometimes even face rejection and isolation. In spite of such sufferings, they continue to serve the Church that they love, with faith and fortitude. 

Historically, Black women have never really had a significant recognized role in the Catholic Church. Those who did in fact rise and become the leaders, we know well: Servants of God Thea Bowman and Julia Greeley, as well as Venerable Mary Lange and Henriette DeLille, are a few that come to mind. (There are, of course, many others whose names have been lost to history.) 

All of these Black Catholic women fought to maintain dignity and recognition. However, these specific examples are African-American women who rightly deserve such accolades. Alternatively, though, this is not the narrative in the Canadian Catholic Church for Black women. Here, we have no National Black Sisters’ Conference, there is no Office of Black Catholics, and to date, no Black person has had a cause of canonization opened in the Great White North. This is a sad fact, because I know personally of Black women who today are taking on roles as faithful servants in the Church.

They are lectors, Eucharistic ministers, and women who will volunteer hours of their own personal time toward sacramental preparation for children. Many of these women do not hold leadership roles in recognized Catholic organizations like the Catholic Women’s League and other such organizations. However, Black Canadian women have fought to stay in the Church and insist that the faith is passed on to their own children. 

In fact, that is part of my own personal testimony. My mother would not entertain the option to attend a public school. Therefore, from kindergarten through high school, both my brother and I received a Catholic education. Although I saw Black women once more volunteering their own time to assist us as helpers in the classroom, preparation for Confirmation, and the like, they were never formally recognized for their contribution. From all of my Catholic schooling, I cannot recall even one Black woman whose story was widely celebrated. This is the stark reality of the invisibility of Black women in the Canadian Catholic Church.

As Black people and as Black Catholics, we know that we often bear others’ sorrows. Many Black women going to church are not only willing to run things like grief support groups but also devote hours of other service to the Church. I do not think I am overemphasizing this point when I state that Black women, and women generally, are often the ones that hold up the Church. Sometimes, many Black women might find connecting with Church-related activities will give them an even deeper sense of community, an opportunity to be seen. These women silently make what we call “church” really a church community.

Why, then, do we not know their names? Should we not want to find ways to acknowledge their devotion? Are we considering that maybe someone else can step up to help? Why does it feel as though in the Church, Black women tend to receive a heavier load, little recognition, and are even asked if they can do more? Of course, we do not celebrate Mass or go to Church for status, but Black Catholic women should not become invisible. How can it be that once again, like the hemorrhaging woman, we cannot be seen in the crowds? 

Our faith as Black Catholic women drives community and strengthens family bonds. Hopefully, the day will come when we can easily call the names of Black Catholic Canadian women and the love they demonstrate for Jesus Christ.

Tamika Royes has fifteen years of experience in the social services sector in various roles. She has been a tireless advocate of justice causes, beginning in high school. She is currently pursuing a post-graduate certificate at Assumption University.

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