The journey has been deeply rewarding

As we approach the 30th anniversary of the first Black history service in our diocese, to be celebrated on Sunday, Feb. 23 at St. James Cathedral, I share this personal reflection.

My arrival in Toronto in the spring of 1993 to serve as the associate priest of St. Michael and All Angels, where there was a strong Caribbean presence, marked the beginning of an encouraging and mutually affirming journey, both for myself and for the community. At the outset, I should note, I was in time to see the words “death to race mixers” indelibly marked in graffiti on the exterior walls of the church building, before the vegetation that grew on the walls returned at the end of the winter. St. Michael’s was one of those few churches in the diocese known to be a place where the leadership was historically an active and strong voice for the marginalized and offered a warm welcome to all Caribbean people.

Having ministered in the Caribbean, I was familiar with the rhythms, vibrancy and challenges of the culture. However, stepping into a diocese where I was one of only four or five Black priests among more than 200 predominantly white clergy presented a new and complex reality. It was both humbling and daunting, and I was unsure about the shape my ministry would take and develop in such a context.

That uncertainty began to shift when I started receiving calls from non-white individuals seeking priestly ministrations. They wanted a pastor who would understand their experiences, someone who would empathize with their struggles as minorities in a predominantly white society and Church. One call came from the Don Jail, where the caller asked me to visit him after he saw my picture in a community paper. He told me that he was not comfortable with the white chaplain. I went expecting to see a young Black man. To my surprise, it was a young, bi-racial (First Nations-Hispanic) man.

These calls revealed a neglected spiritual and pastoral need among non-white individuals and families who often felt invisible within the broader diocesan structure. That, I soon experienced at a personal level.

It became clear that my ministry was not just about serving a congregation but about representing and uplifting a marginalized community. However, as these calls increased, so did my own feelings of isolation. I recognized that while I was ministering to others, I lacked a support system for myself, and I felt the weight of navigating my role in an environment where representation and cultural understanding were scarce.

Realizing that I could not do this work alone, I reached out to the four other Black priests in the diocese. Our conversations were very encouraging and mutually enlightening. We shared our experiences and began to discern how we could address the needs of the community we served. We saw parallels with the early Church, particularly in the story of the Hellenistic Jewish widows in Acts 6:1-6, who felt neglected “in the daily administration” until the apostles took action to address their concerns.

This similarity strengthened our resolve. Just as the apostles appointed deacons to ensure equitable care, we recognized the need to organize and advocate for a neglected community. Through prayer and reflection, we identified three key areas of focus for our collective ministry:

1. Mutual support for clergy and laity. We prioritized creating a network of support for Black clergy, recognizing the importance of having spaces to share experiences, offer encouragement and collaborate on initiatives.
2. Advocacy and leadership. We aimed to amplify the voices of the Black community within the diocese, ensuring that their needs and contributions were recognized and valued.
3. Fostering vocations. We committed to nurturing vocations among young Black Anglicans, encouraging them to consider leadership roles within the Church.

Around this time, the diocese launched an initiative in multicultural ministry, No Longer Strangers, which provided a platform for us to organize more formally. This initiative served as a catalyst for our work, allowing us to connect with other marginalized groups and advocate for greater inclusion within the Anglican Church. It also reinforced the importance of creating spaces where diverse cultural expressions could flourish within the life of the Church.

The defining moment of our efforts came in 1996 with the diocesan Black history service at St. James Cathedral. This service was not only the genesis of our work but also a bold statement of the vitality, colour and richness of the Black heritage within the Anglican Church. We envisioned it as a celebration of our culture and faith – a worship experience that would reflect the unique contributions of the Black community to the Church.

The service was an overwhelming success. For the first time in the history of the Anglican Church of Canada, people were turned away from a worship service because the cathedral was full to overflowing. Steelpans, Caribbean rhythms and liturgical dancers filled the sanctuary, creating an atmosphere of joyful praise and cultural pride. It was a moment that transcended mere tradition, inviting the entire diocese and wider community to witness and participate in the richness of Black spirituality.

The sermon, delivered by the Rev. Dr. Professor Kortright Davis of Howard University School of Divinity, was a powerful centerpiece of the service. He spoke about the “five spiritual S’s” that Black people bring to enrich the life of any church or community. These S’s – suffer, serve, share, struggle, sing – resonated deeply with the congregation, affirming the unique gifts and resilience of the Black community. Here is what he said:

“First, Black people know how to suffer; and suffered they have, just because of the colour of the skin in which God was exceptionally pleased to place them. Second, Black people know what it means to serve, whether it is in enforced servitude or voluntary and selfless service. Third, Black people know what it means to share. They share their substance, they share their meaning, they share their lives, they share their hopes, they share their poverty. Fourth, Black people know what it means to struggle. Life, for them, is never easy being Black. As they struggle with all their might, they are challenged to use all of their wits and a full measure of their faith to turn every stumbling block into a useful stepping stone. Fifth, Black people know how to sing. They have had to sing the Lord’s song in a strange land. How could they do this? They inherited this virtue from their foreparents. Their forebears had to sing to ease their own pain. They had to sing in solidarity with each other as they protested their many common indignities and injustices. They had to sing to put strength and meaning in their lives.”

The service was more than a one-time event; it was the beginning of a sustained effort to uplift and celebrate the contributions of Black Anglicans. It gave visibility to our community and laid the groundwork for broader advocacy and engagement within the Church. Over time, this work inspired others to join the cause, ensuring that the seeds we planted would continue to grow. We have seen new things. The number of Black priests has grown, the Church elected its first Black bishop, Bishop Peter Fenty. Our diocese appointed two Black archdeacons in the recent restructuring of its administrative protocols. Black Anglicans have taken their place in the councils of the diocese. To be honest, the momentum has waned. There is still much more to do, so we cannot grow weary in well doing.

Now, nearly 30 years later, the work we started has been taken up by a new generation of Black Anglicans, organized under the banner of The Black Anglicans of Canada. This group has expanded the vision, focusing on a national agenda of transformation. Its work includes advocating for systemic change, mentoring young leaders and creating spaces where Black voices can thrive within the Anglican Church and beyond.

As I reflect on this journey, I am struck by the power of community and collaboration. What began as a response to feelings of isolation and neglect evolved into a movement that has enriched the Church and inspired countless individuals. Our ministry demonstrated the importance of equitable representation, the beauty of cultural diversity and the transformative power of faith.

The Black history service of Sunday, Feb. 25, 1996, remains a milestone – a watershed moment when the Black community came together to worship, celebrate and affirm its place within the Anglican Church. It showed that when we honour the unique gifts of every culture, we reflect the fullness within the Reign of God.

Looking ahead, I am filled with hope. The journey has not been without its challenges, but it has been deeply rewarding. It is my prayer that this work will continue to inspire, uplift and transform, ensuring that the richness of our Black heritage remains a vibrant part of the Church’s life for generations to come. “A luta continua.”