Black parishes hold onto faith amidst virus, shutdown and an uncertain future

Two women pray at St. Charles Lwanga Parish at Livernois and Grand River in Detroit in this file photo. Because of a reliance on service-sector jobs, a lack of access to healthy food options and pre-existing medical conditions, the African-American community has been hit particularly hard by the coronavirus, a reality to which inner-city parishes such as St. Charles Lwanga have responded with grace, faith and community. (Detroit Catholic file photos)

COVID-19 has disproportionately affected the African-American Catholic community, which thrives on person-to-person engagement

DETROIT — From the outset of the COVID-19 outbreak in Michigan, it became clear the virus was particularly devastating to the African-American community.

From limited access to health care and poorer living conditions to greater dependence on service jobs where remote work and social distancing aren’t possible, the impact of COVID-19 has not been equitable — and once more, the African-American community is suffering the most.

The virus’ impact has reverberated in majority-Black Catholic parishes in the Archdiocese of Detroit, particularly in the city itself, which has seen the most virus cases anywhere in the state. 

The Michigan Department of Health and Human Services have reported 67,237 confirmed cases of COVID-19 in Michigan as of July 9, with African-Americans accounting for 20,229 cases -- equating to 13,495 African-American cases per million as opposed to 3,361 white cases per million.

The disparity among COVID-19 cases in the African-American community prompted Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer to launch a task force headed by Lt. Governor and native Detroiter Garlin Gilchrist II to address racial disparities in healthcare in the state. 

With 6,015 confirmed COVID-19 deaths in Michigan, 2,375 of which have been borne by the African-American community --- 39.4% of deaths in Michigan from a demographic that is only 14.1% of the state’s population --- the virus is just another crisis in which the African-American community is the first to feel the impact and the last to see relief, said Vickie Figueroa, coordinator of Black Catholic ministries for the Archdiocese of Detroit.

“A lot of the work Black Catholic parishioners do is direct service work,” Figueroa told Detroit Catholic. “They are basically front-line, essential workers. It’s not like they can work safely from a computer via Zoom meeting.”

Coupled with a higher rate of pre-existing health conditions in the African-American community, it’s easy to see how the virus has ripped through the community.

“There are certain health problems, like high blood pressure and diabetes, which makes a person more susceptible to the virus,” said Fr. Norm Thomas, pastor of Sacred Heart Parish in Detroit, who himself recovered from COVID-19 after being sick for two weeks. “The virus attacks people with those weaknesses in their immune system. Then you look at things like fewer health care options in the area or having the right kind of insurance or coverage, and these things become more serious for the community.”

A health care worker tests a man for COVID-19 symptoms outside SS. Peter and Paul (Jesuit) Church in downtown Detroit.

In addition, a lack of access to healthy food options in the city of Detroit forces Detroiters to go to fewer stores, allowing for greater chances to come in contact with the virus.

“You find in urban communities there are more fast food restaurants, a lot more dependency on corner stores with less viable options for healthy food,” said John Thorne, executive director of the Detroit Catholic Pastoral Alliance. “When Farmer Jack, a huge chain in Detroit, left, closing all their locations, that left people in a scramble to find groceries in the city. 

“That leads not only to a lack of food, but lack of jobs,” Thorne continued. “I know four people who work at the Meijer at 8 Mile and Woodward, and they go every day to work and put themselves at risk.”

How Black Catholic parishes reacted to COVID-19

Already operating on razor-thin budgets, this spring’s suspension of public Masses in the Archdiocese of Detroit pushed many predominantly Black Catholic parishes closer to the edge. 

Joi Hunter, director of communication and lead catechist at St. Charles Lwanga Parish at Livernois and Grand River, lost her aunt to COVID-19. After experiencing grief in a socially distanced world firsthand, Hunter said she’s seen the parish try to keep a sense of community togetherness despite the ongoing challenges.

For African-American Catholic communities, responding to the coronavirus crisis has meant sacrificing traditions such as music and social togetherness in order to keep parishioners and community members safe. Pictured, a young girl proclaims a reading at Gesu Church in northwest Detroit.

“We started celebrating Mass again June 7, and not singing is one thing that’s been difficult,” Hunter said. “We have a really awesome choir, so it’s really different to not hear them. Beyond the music, not moving around to hug each other during the Sign of Peace, not holding hands during the Our Father, these are all a big part of our tradition. It’s a big deal to us.”

St. Charles Lwanga didn’t have the ability to livestream during the shutdown, but it did continue to record weekly videos with Fr. Ted Parker, the parish’s pastor, Hunter said. The parish also expanded its social media outreach with Gospel reflections from Patricia Dixon, director of faith formation at the parish, and a youth liturgy and teen liturgy video for younger parish members. 

Even after the shutdown was lifted, Mass attendance at St. Charles Lwanga has been limited. Because of social spacing restrictions, the parish can’t use its bus to transport parishioners from home to church, leaving 20 to 35 parishioners without an option in how to get to Mass.

But for all the social media, Zoom meetings and reflection videos, nothing replaces the authentic sense of community that comes with person-to-person interaction, Figueroa said.

“We were sad about being away from so many of our brothers and sisters for such a long time, when we couldn’t go back into the church and really worship with people,” Figueroa said. “Being close together, being able to hug each other, that’s our culture; we love up on people.”

Curtis Simpson Jr., director of Christian service at Corpus Christi Parish in Detroit, said more and more families have been asking for assistance after losing a job during the pandemic.

“You’re looking at the 48219 ZIP code, and two miles to the east, in 48205, you have areas that are always in extreme poverty, with inadequate levels of health insurance and an unemployment rate of 55 percent — all before the pandemic hit,” Simpson said.

Volunteer Jewell Jones hands a meal to a guest at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen's Conner Street meal site in Detroit, which has stepped up to-go meal options for the city’s homeless and hungry. (Tim Hinkle | Special to Detroit Catholic)

The 48219 ZIP code, where Corpus Christi is located, has seen 906 COVID-19 cases to date, the second most in the state behind only neighboring 48235, which is home to St. Peter Claver Parish, another predominantly African-American parish. 

Simpson said Corpus Christi parishioners have continued contributing to the parish since the shutdown, a necessity as the neighborhood looks to the community to provide social services in a time of need.

“In an unfortunate sense, the pandemic is bringing Jesus to families that wouldn’t (encounter him) if the pandemic didn’t happen,” Simpson said. “It’s a blessing, and obviously a curse as well, but a blessing to be able to reach out to people by picking up their prescriptions or groceries or a gas card. We’re serving families we probably would have never met.”

Despite parishioners’ generosity, smaller numbers of Catholics at Mass has meant smaller weekly collections, especially at vulnerable inner-city parishes. That, in turn, has led to fewer resources to help the community.

Thorne said the pandemic has highlighted the need for creativity, especially as it relates to online streaming and digital outreach. 

“It’s amazed me how many of us were not ready to do online streaming; but we have so many old churches where we don’t have internet access, so we’re finding ways to jump that hurdle,” Throne said. “Every Sunday on our Facebook page at Sacred Heart Parish, we’ve had 1,400 to 1,900 devices connected to our Sunday Mass. The comments during Masses, praying and saying hello, has taught me that we need to think differently in order to minster differently.”

The shutdown is ending, but the virus is still here

The reopening of the economy in certain regions in Michigan, coupled with the resumption of public Mass in the Archdiocese of Detroit, might give the sense the COVID-19 pandemic is over, but members of the Black Catholic community say its impact isn’t fading soon.

Throne said many in the Sacred Heart community have been hesitant to return to Mass. The parish on the edge of Eastern Market is already small, and social distancing has limited the church’s capacity even further.

Since Masses returned in June, attendance has been around 30 to 40 people, Thorne said, with social get-togethers after Mass — a staple in the community — no longer permitted.

“We are looking forward to when people can come back in whatever form that would be, however fast they want to come back,” Throne said. “It would be great to see everyone come back, but we are still getting phone calls saying, ‘Hey, I’m not ready,’ particularly in the 65 and older community.

Choir members sing during the Black Catholic Women’s Conference at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in this file photo. 

“We want everyone to be safe and healthy,” Thorne added. “We took very seriously the document from Archbishop (Allen H.) Vigneron, a four-page procedure about how we will open up as a parish, but keeping our streaming services for those who still aren’t ready.”

On June 4, the parish organized a “drive-by” to celebrate Fr. Thomas’ 65th anniversary of the priesthood, with parishioners donating to the parish’s scholarship fund in his honor. 

Still, as the reopening of society has begun, Fr. Thomas worries it might be happening too soon.

“As we know, some states that have opened up early are seeing a spike in the cases of the virus,” Fr. Thomas said. “Michigan is doing pretty good so far, but I think people are going to follow the trends as things are opening up.”

In the weeks, months and years ahead, it will be up to the Church to help the Black Catholic community get back on its feet after the virus has run its course. Just as with the economic downtown of 2008, the Black community always seems to be the last to recover, Curtis said.

“In the Black community, COVID-19 has affected people who have had struggles before, whether it’s violence in neighborhoods, unemployment or other things,” Simpson said. 

Certain public protections, such as a moratorium on evictions or an easing of bus fares for city residents, will eventually disappear and create another set of challenges for the community, he added.

“That’s when you are going to see people ask for more assistance, and that is a great opportunity for the Catholic Church to step into peoples’ lives, to be the light in a dark time for many,” Simpson said.

Through it all, the Black Catholic community continues to have faith and show its solidarity, Figueroa said. And that can be example for the whole Church. 

“What gives me hope is the adaptably of the Black Catholic community,” Figueroa said. “There is just this willingness to enter into a new way of faith, prayer and worship, a willingness to reach across parish lines and boundaries. Black people will always find a way to keep our faith in Jesus Christ strong. No matter how many barriers we will climb, we’ll find a way to reach Christ.”

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