Rejoicing 175 years: Local black Catholics marking historic anniversary of St. Patrick’s

  • Posted: Sunday, January 29, 2012 12:01 a.m.
    UPDATED: Friday, March 23, 2012 6:08 p.m.
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Joan Mack (left) and Vertelle Kenion stretch out an anniversary banner in front of St. Patrick’s Catholic Church as Melvin Kenion (in the hat) and Marcus Cox look on and confer atop the steps.
Joan Mack (left) and Vertelle Kenion stretch out an anniversary banner in front of St. Patrick’s Catholic Church as Melvin Kenion (in the hat) and Marcus Cox look on and confer atop the steps.

Before the American Revolution, when South Carolina and Eastern Georgia were still Colonies subject to the king and Church of England, Catholics were not much welcomed, and black Catholics were the most unusual of aberrations.

“(A)ll Christians which now are, or hereafter may be, in the province (Papists only excepted), shall enjoy the full, free, and undisturbed liberty of their consciences,” states a colonial act of 1696-97.

But Catholicism could not be shut out, and a minority of blacks soon embraced it.

The history of black Catholicism will be celebrated beginning today at Charleston’s St. Patrick’s Church, which is turning 175. It is marking its anniversary with a special Mass and series of events extending through 2012.

The Most Rev. Robert E. Guglielmone, bishop of the Diocese of Charleston, will be principal celebrant at this morning’s Mass. The church building (and its predecessors) will be acknowledged on March 17. A homecoming weekend in June will pay tribute to the 1967 merger of St. Peter’s and St. Patrick’s parishes. An anniversary gala is slated for October. And a final celebration is planned for Dec. 2.

The theme “Remember, Renew and Rejoice” sums up the congregation’s intent, said longtime parishioner Joan Mack.

What church members likely will discuss is a fascinating combination of cultures and religious practices that produced a unique expression of Catholicism in the Lowcountry.

European slave traders introduced their religion to African slave merchants and captives, thus Catholicism trickled into the Lowcountry. A few white planter families, especially those along the Ashepoo River in Colleton County, west of Walterboro, had converted to Catholicism by the late 1700s and early 1800s, influencing the slaves who worked the rice fields, according to Suzanne Krebsbach, author of the 2002 essay “Catholic, Black and Proud.”

The presence of Spanish settlers in the Southeast also helped introduce the religion to the region, and it’s likely that black Catholics from parts of the Caribbean came to the Charleston area because of the slave trade, Krebsbach writes.

Once revolution resulted in an independent United States, government-sponsored religion, as well as sanctioned religious suppression, mostly came to an end (at least officially). St. James the Greater Catholic Church was built in the Colleton County town of Ritter in 1835, but caught fire in 1856. Eventually, it was rebuilt, and the area’s black Catholics clung to their tradition tenaciously. The area is known as Catholic Hill.

When the Civil War came, it changed everything in the South, including Catholicism.

Inexorable change

On Monday, a handful of members, along with the Rev. Henry N. Kulah, pastor of St. Patrick’s, unfurled a newly minted anniversary banner and contemplated how to mount it to the front of the building on St. Philip Street.

The groundskeeper was on hand to make the landscaping trim and neat. A carpet cleaner had just finished his work in the parish hall beneath the sanctuary.

The parish has come a long way from its early days.

It was founded in 1837 by a small group of blacks and whites when Catholics living outside the city limits requested a parish toward the Neck Area. They didn’t want to travel downtown to St. Mary’s on Hasell Street, the first Catholic parish of Charleston, established in 1789, or to the Cathedral of St. Finbar on Broad Street (now St. John the Baptist), which opened in 1821, Krebsbach writes in her essay.

Bishop John England, the first leader appointed by the Vatican to the fledgling diocese in 1820, was forced to navigate both anti-Catholic prejudice and racial discrimination. When he opened a school for free blacks, it quickly attracted 80 students, writes Krebsbach, but the bishop was forced to shut it down under threat of lynching.

That interest in education persisted, however, and years later, in 1904, the diocese opened Immaculate Conception School on Coming Street, a parochial day school for blacks. In 1961, then-Bishop Paul Hallinan announced the diocese’s Catholic schools would be integrated.

The parochial school system was instrumental in making and sustaining black Catholics, according to Mack. Non-Catholic students often were admitted, then converted, sometimes bringing their parents and other family members with them into the faith. Predominantly black parishes were beneficiaries of this process, drawing a growing number of worshippers during the course of the 20th century.

For most of its existence, St. Patrick’s drew white worshippers. Its sister parish, St. Peter’s on Wentworth Street, was home to the peninsula’s black Catholics. In 1967, under the leadership of Bishop Ernest Unterkoefler, the diocese was restructured. Several smaller parishes were closed. St. Peter’s was merged with St. Patrick’s, and many in its congregation moved up the peninsula to become part of the white church. “The whole membership of St. Peter’s had a place to go,” Mack said.

The change at St. Patrick’s in 1967, as legal segregation came to an end in the South, was eerily reminiscent of what happened after the Civil War emancipated the slaves. The infusion of black worshippers drove many whites away, church leaders said. Soon, the diocese’s first black priest, Fr. Egbert Figaro, took the reins of St. Patrick’s. The following year, Immaculate Conception School and Bishop England High School were integrated.

Reaching out

Today, St. Patrick’s sanctuary fills up with about 250 people on any given Sunday morning, according to Kulah. As many as 80 show up for the Saturday evening Mass. White regulars number 15-20.

Guglielmone called St. Patrick’s “a vibrant church doing wonderful things.” Because of its proximity to the College of Charleston, it hosts the diocese’s campus ministry, showing “tremendous hospitality,” he said.

“It’s certainly a testimony to the black Catholic presence and the diocese’s commitment to supporting that presence,” Guglielmone said.

Marcus Cox, a professor of history at The Citadel and co-chairman of the 175th anniversary committee, said he appreciates the sense of family at St. Patrick’s, where members refer to one another as “brother” and “sister.”

“One of the things I really love about Father is that he really stresses fellowship,” Cox said.

Though the congregation mostly consists of older parishioners, the church is making an effort to reach young people, Mack said. St. Patrick’s has a junior choir, altar servers and junior daughters who assist with services. A health fair, Easter egg hunt and parish picnic attract children and adults alike.

Its community outreach, too, is pronounced, Mack said. It includes a Women’s Guild affiliated with the National Council of Catholic Women; support of Our Lady of Mercy Outreach on Johns Island which, in turn, assists migrant workers; and a Christmas basket initiative that provides a full meal to families in need.

Music in church is important, often incorporating aspects of the gospel tradition. The Mass is utterly Catholic, Mack and Kulah said, but the singing derives from a long history of black church music.

The choir of about 15 is directed by Charlton Singleton, a noted pianist and trumpet player who’s a fixture of the jazz scene in Charleston.

“The congregation loves to sing,” Mack said. “And visitors often say they really loved the music.” Clapping is common. “The church encourages its own culture.”

And unity in Christ.

“It’s a family,” Kulah said, “it’s really just a family.”

Reach Adam Parker at 937-5902 or on Facebook.