Accessibility Tools

Skip to main content

Fourth Sunday of Advent

December 22, 2024

Today’s Invitation

Today we invite you to explore Black Catholics’ leadership and participation in Black emancipation and autonomy in the early Americas; engage the history of Black Catholic militant resistance to slavery; and embody a renewed look at Catholic praxis with the help of Francisco Mendez and the Stono Rebellion.


Commentary by Toivo Asheeke

Fourth Sunday of Advent


Reading 1

Micah 5:1-4

Thus says YHWH:

“As for you, Bethlehem in Ephrathah,
small as you are among Judah’s clans,
from you will come a ruler for me over Israel,
one whose goings out are from times long past, from ancient days.
But God will give them over to their enemies
until the time when she who is in labor has given birth;
then the remnant of the ruler’s brothers and sisters
will return to the Children of Israel.
The ruler will rise up to shepherd them in the strength of YHWH,
by the power of the Name of YHWH, their God.
They will live in security, for now the ruler’s greatness
will reach to the ends of the earth.
They will say, ‘This at last is the one
who will be our peace.’ ”

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 80

Response: O God, make us turn to You, let us see Your face and we will be safe.

Hear me, O Shepherd of Israel, / enthroned on the cherubs, shine out,
Rouse Your power, / and come to save us!
R: O God, make us turn to You, let us see Your face and we will be safe.

Please, Adonai Sabaoth, relent! / Look down from heaven, look at this vine.
Visit it, / protect what Your own right hand has planted.
R: O God, make us turn to you, let us see Your face and we will be safe.

Safeguard those You have chosen, / those You have made strong.
Never again will we turn away from You; / restore us, O God.
R: O God, make us turn to You, let us see Your face and we will be safe.

Reading 2

Hebrews 10:5-10

And this is what Jesus said, on coming into the world:
“You who wanted no sacrifice or oblation
prepared a body for me.
In burnt offerings or sacrifices for sin
you took no pleasure.
Then I said, just as it was written of me
in the scroll of the book,
‘God, here I am!
I have come to do your will.’ ”

In saying that God does not want burnt offerings and sacrifices — which are offered according to
the Law — and then saying, “I have come to do your will,” Jesus abolishes the first covenant in
order to establish the second. By God’s will, we have been sanctified through the offering of the
body of Jesus Christ once and for all.

Gospel

Luke 1:39-45

Within a few days Mary set out and hurried to the hill country to a town of Judah, where she entered Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! But why am I so favored, that the mother of the Messiah should come to me? The moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who believed that what Our God said to her would be accomplished!”


The Inclusive Lectionary © 2022 FutureChurch. All rights reserved. 

The inclusive language psalms:
Leach, Maureen, O.S.F. and Schreck, Nancy, O.S.F., Psalms Anew: A Non-sexist Edition
(Dubuque, IA: The Sisters of St. Francis, 1984).
Used with permission.

Read

Explore

A Renewed Look at Catholic Praxis


In today’s first reading we hear a prophecy fighting for a future of peace and security for people under the throes of empire and oppression. They gain this peace and security through liberation, faith, family, community, armed struggle and self-determination. This same push for liberation and autonomy has been tried time and again throughout history, including by Black Catholics, specifically in the southern United States in the 17th and 18th centuries leading into the Civil War and the abolition of slavery.  

Since at least the late 17th century, armed Black Catholics have at various points stood at the forefront of formally organized armed resistance to chattel slavery and land dispossession by white settler colonialism in North America. Often in the territory known as La Florida, armed Black Catholic communities organized themselves into an explicit anti-slavery force throughout both Spanish periods, British imperial rule, and lastly American rule (see here). In South Carolina in 1739, there was a strong Black Catholic influence within  the Stono Rebellion in which enslaved Africans revolted against British imperial rule, enslavement, and spiritual domination by Anglican British slaveowners, and then marched south to St. Augustine to build a free life for themselves (more on the Stono Rebellion). Over time, this community rose in prominence and autonomy as the strength of Spanish rule in Florida weakened after it was returned to the Spanish after the American Revolution in 1783. Communities like these show an alternate history of formerly enslaved people, not just fighting for emancipation from slavery on an individual level, but as communities, often called maroons, fighting for self-determination and autonomy from many colonial forces.  

After the American Revolution, of which Black people played a central, if unheralded role, the 2nd Spanish period in La Florida would begin. Here, we see the Spanish Empire at their weakest. The Spanish could barely maintain St. Augustine and were forced to concede more autonomy and legal racial equality to the now firmly established Seminole Nation – a creation of Indigenous refugees from various smaller groups/bands and African maroons – as well as Black Catholic militia communities who straddled all sides (more on this relationship). It was this population of Black Catholics who – after defending their communities from white slave catchers/raiders from Georgia and South Carolina, and elements of the State of Muskogee (1799-1803) – would receive rich farmlands, homesteads, and plantations (minus the enslaved labor force) in large parts of East Florida. If allowed to continue to build and grow they, as well as their Seminole neighbors and independent African maroon villages, would threaten the expansion of slavery in Middle Georgia and Alabama and the wider Louisiana territories. 

As this community grew in strength, the US slave states bordering the La Florida territory invaded the community in what became known as the Patriot War (1812-1815). At its core the Patriots were made up of petty slave owners, slave catchers, and aspiring planters who, needing a workforce to realize their white Protestant dreams of social advancement, were unwilling to accept the freedom of Blacks and Catholics across the border. Moreover, they were terrified of the examples these free communities were setting to rebellious enslaved Africans north of the La Florida border. Stronger alliances and autonomous community building between these Blacks in Florida and the enslaved in Georgia and South Carolina could not be allowed to take root.  While the Black Catholic villages and their neighbors were able to fight off the Patriots, soon General Andrew Jackson led troops made up of slave raiding/trading allies and militias. He would attack Negro Fort, a growing established Black maroon community in Prospect Bluff, which would lead to and spark the Seminole War that led to the US empire securing Florida, and thus the safe expansion of slavery across Georgia, Alabama, and the Louisiana Territories. Jackson’s influence was also key to breaking the tenuous social equality the Black Catholic community had fought hard for as their lands, granted to them by the Spanish, were seized and many were kicked out of St. Augustine and forced to flee either to Cuba or Fernandina. 

Badly beaten, but not defeated, this community would deemphasize its armed tradition to blend into the new society, but this proved difficult as white supremacy, slavery and capitalism wove threads of oppression around them tightly. Then came the ‘Big Shoot,’ as the Gullah-Geechee peoples in the Lowcountry (South Carolina, Georgia, Florida) call it – the War of the Rebellion, or Civil War as it later became known (1861-1865). For the Black Catholic forces who were able to resist or avoid deportation, their heirs in East Florida/SE Georgia would go on to serve in the 1st and 2nd South Carolina Volunteers – the first Black regiments in the Union with formerly enslaved Africans from the Lowcountry as its core – in the final armed conflict over the future of enslavement in North America. Within this fighting force, the Black Catholic contingent from Florida would make up, in the opinion of some white officers, the best prepared, trained and ideologically clear segment of the 1st and 2nd South Carolina Volunteers (for more see here).

By the middle of 1862 formerly enslaved Africans were being recruited and conscripted (with poor results) into what was being called the 1st South Carolina Volunteer (1st SCV) regiment in the Union Army’s Department of the South. Given the failures of conscription, recruitment was turned to and over 100 Blacks, many of them Catholic, were recruited to head north and join the new regiment. This regiment, the 1st SCV, and eventually the 2nd SCV, the latter holding more men from Florida, were critical to the early efforts of Black people to strike against slavery on their own terms. We emphasize this, as most of the written academic records propose that they were fighting for the Union. This to me is questionable at best, for reasons too numerous to detail here now. In brief, it must be understood that the white Union commanders did not know the South and were reliant on their Black troops who were from the Lowcountry, not just for guidance and direction, but tactics and strategy. Black troops knew the riverways and waterways, and had a mind to maintain their autonomy from the Union – and had the Union not called them back from Jacksonville in mid-1863 for the assault on Charleston, there could have been a reality in which these troops triggered a wider Haiti-esque revolution in the South (SC, GA, FL). In the numerous battles and skirmishes that followed, Black Catholics distinguished themselves alongside those of the Protestant faiths and many who worshipped in the African religions, which at times intersected with Catholicism.

Commentary by Toivo Asheeke


Toivo Asheeke is a scholar-activist whose research interests intersect the disciplines of Historical-Sociology, History, and Africana Studies. He focuses on Southern African Liberation struggle history, Black Power Studies, African American Resistance to Enslavement, Haitian Revolution Studies, and Political Economy. His recent book entitled Arming Black Consciousness focuses on exploring hidden fronts of South Africa’s liberation movement through a focus on the Black Consciousness Movement and its return to armed struggle from 1967-1993. His new research project, hinted at here, seeks to trace the contours of a new history and geography of Black struggle in North America through the lens of the Gullah-Geechee Wars (1715-1899). Asheeke comes from a Black Catholic background, his grandmother, Jacqueline Wilson, recently called to glory, was influential to his life path in so many ways. She was the main influence behind him blending academic investigation with committed social justice activism.
Explore

Engage Catholic Social Teaching

Racial Justice

I would like to bring in the image of Michael the Archangel, which has been one of the central guiding lights of my Catholic faith through this verse from Revelation:

‘And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him’. (KJV, Revelations, 12:7-9).

For many Africans, especially those from Kongo and Angola, part of the allure of Catholicism was the importance placed on angels, saints, and holy places. For many who understand themselves as Catholics, Michael is a comparable figure to, say, Ogun in Voodoo. Ogun was a deity, or shall we say, representative of the wider Kongo spiritual pantheon who initially was the protector and influencer of blacksmiths and warriors. In the Americas, on the plantations and in the Caribbean, he became more so the God of war and liberation, especially in Haitian Voodoo, which has strong histories in Florida and Louisiana. My quote also speaks to why many Africans converted willingly at times to Christianity broadly. These stories must be real in the material world. For us, there is no sharp division between the spiritual world and material worlds. For most African faiths, we do not believe in a heaven or hell. For me, Michael’s fight against evil is a fight I believe my people have fought daily in their lives since enslavement, and we will win. 

Armed Black Catholics were at the forefront of antislavery activity from the beginning of the European presence in North America. It was they who forced Catholic Spain to recognize their freedom in La Florida with the 1693 cedula; through the force of their example gradually weakened slavery in La Florida; and won for themselves various semi-autonomous African Maroon communities. 

For us today, as Catholics or those raised Catholic, the lessons are many. Firstly, often the grassroots must lead a lonely fight against leadership and authority, even within the Church. Many in the wider Catholic world, even beyond the Spanish, hated how Black Catholics in La Florida were able to forge a strong community and position for themselves. Secondly, unlike other Christian denominations, Catholics have always concerned themselves with governance and rule in the material world. In this, Black Catholics in La Florida and parts of the wider Spanish empire like Cuba played an important part in creating a more multiracial, emancipatory, and militant society within the shadow of the slave colonies emerging. Lastly, armed struggle and self-defense, and the cultures and materials that must be gathered to make it possible, as well as the spiritual guidance, is indispensable to the fight for freedom that Catholics who are Black have always had to turn to. As a Black man who was raised around the Catholic faith, these stories and histories were never taught to me. It might have made me look at my Catholic upbringing differently had I known even fragments of this long narrative of insurgent militant activity of Black Catholic communities. Indeed, looking back on this history I believe these Black Catholic maroon communities did the faith proud as they attempted to destroy, like the Archangel Michael, the multi-headed dragon of slavery, white supremacy, and capitalism as embodiments of evil here on our material heaven that is earth.

Engage


A Witness

Francisco Mendez

One of the key leaders of this Black Catholic maroon community was a formerly enslaved African who was conscripted by the British to fight in the Yamasee War, Franscisco Menendez. Fort Mose, a Spanish fort, was under his command and it stood at the vanguard of resisting the expansion of British slavery and, given the weakness of the Spanish in La Florida, slowly attacking the legitimacy of the institution of slavery through the force of their example.  He also made a point to build with local Native Americans, and he ensured Catholicism was practiced in Fort Mose, granted, with many Africanisms. 

Fort Mose, it could be argued, inspired a Black rebellion along the Stono River in South Carolina in September 1739. There is still much we do not know about the Stono Rebellion. From what we do know, a group of newly captured and enslaved Africans, who clearly had Catholic leanings, were familiar with European arms, had their own sophisticated military tactics, and killed over 20 whites in an uprising. As they marched across the terrified state of South Carolina burning plantations, killing whites, sparing allies of all colors, and beating the drums of recruitment, they made clear their intention was to make their way to St. Augustine where others like them had found refuge as Black people and Catholics. While most were eventually defeated in a series of engagements, some did make it to Fort Mose. The new state of Georgia under General Oglethorpe led a series of raids and invasions against this community, and Oglethorpe’s troops were stopped from taking the whole territory for England, in large part because of the fighters of Fort Mose, the neighboring Indigenous villages, and dissension in the British ranks as many of the Blacks they had forced into service revolted against them at key moments. 

My argument is to suggest, different from some of the mainstream literature, that the fighters of the Stono Rebellion fought not only for Spain, Catholicism, and their individual/family freedom from slavery, but for their lands, their history, and their culture as a semi-autonomous Black maroon community. By the force of its example and tangible work in the material world, this rebellion was a challenge to slavery everywhere.


Embody