Dear
Parishioners,
My
mom is often amazed when I recall incidents from my youth in precise
detail. She would typically remark, “How
do you remember all that?” I guess some
things are just ingrained in the mind.
One
such time was when I was walking alone down the streets of Wildwood as a boy
somewhere around 10-12 years old. It was
the springtime and mid-morning on a clear, sunny day. The summer crowds were not around yet. I was returning from Fox Park where I would frequently play with my friends. Our town was usually safe to walk or ride my
bike around alone.
As
it turned out, that day a group of black youth was coming down Ocean Avenue in
the opposite direction. There were about
a dozen of them. One teen, obviously
looking to start some trouble, approached me.
I was minding my own business and hadn’t even spoken a word. Before I knew it, he had tackled me to the
ground as his friends laughed and cheered him on. How was
this happening to me? I did nothing
to provoke such behavior. Fortunately, a
passer-by stopped. Obviously, he had
seen what was going on and came to my rescue.
He threatened to call the police and the gang of youth quickly ran.
Fast
forward to my college days. I was in
Philadelphia shopping alone at the Gallery—an
indoor mall—on Market Street. I was a
seminarian at the time. Again, a group
of black teens/young adults approached me looking to start something. I had not spoken a word to any of them. I told them that I was not looking for any
trouble and that I was, in fact, studying to be a priest. One nearby lady heard me say this and
immediately came and stood by my side and told the troublemakers to go before
she called the cops.
I
try to think of myself as a person who is colorblind. I try not to judge a person because of his or
her skin, race or nationality but seek to determine what is going on in the
heart. I have vacationed and shared
meals regularly with an African-American couple who have been my friends almost
as long as I have been a priest. In
fact, I tried as best I could, not to allow some bad past experiences to poison
the way I look at or treat others.
I
have lived and worked with priests from Africa, India, Ireland, Poland, Colombia, the Philippines
and Mexico. I studied with men from Vietnam,
Poland and China. They were/are some of
the finest people that I was fortunate enough to know. What a blessing to be exposed to the many different
cultures worldwide that all comprise the universal (Catholic) church!
My
deepest scars in life, in fact, never came from some foreigners, but rather from those who should have been a source of
strength and support—my fellow (American) Catholics. There were those parishioners who made my life miserable and personally attacked me as
a priest for following the request of the bishop to merge parishes. There were those students in Catholic grade school and high school
who made fun of the way I looked, or my ethnic heritage.
Tension
is running high in society after the recent shootings in Dallas, Baton Rouge
and suburban St. Paul. People are taking
to the streets to protest in various cities.
Whether it is the police who were killed and injured in Dallas or
certain black individuals who were
shot and killed elsewhere, there is mistrust, anger, fear and an ever-growing
concern in the general population. We
need to support our police who do their jobs day in and day out under
increasing pressure, tension and scrutiny.
The overwhelming majority perform their duties in selfless, exemplary
fashion. We also need to listen to one
another and to hear the concerns that lead to protests in the streets.
We
are at a difficult time once again in America.
May God help us all as the presidential election draws nearer.
We certainly need to pray fervently.
Fr. Ed Namiotka
Pastor
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