Confessions of a Black Catholic

Praised Be Jesus!

I hope this post finds everyone well and that everyone is keeping warm in these cold times (and to all those in warm climates, I have some uncharitable things to say, but in charity, I will leave them out).

Every February, the secular world celebrates Black History Month, a month to remember and celebrate the contributions and history of African Americans and other people of color. So, in honor of Black History Month, I wanted to share my experience of being both Black and Catholic. This is neither the story of my conversion, nor about the sociological implications of what it means to be Black and Catholic (even though I may touch on these things) but just my personal experience and my outlook.

When God Speaks My Love Language

Readers, I have a confession to make. 

I have an addiction. 

An addiction…

To adoration!!

That was awful. I'll never joke again. So, on to all seriousness: Eucharistic Adoration is probably my favorite thing in the whole world. It wasn't always, though. As a kid, I remember being dragged along to Adoration and feeling that it was the most boring thing anyone could possibly do. I didn't actually believe in the Real Presence back then. I couldn't tell that Jesus was there using my senses, so I couldn't really believe. Why would someone spend an hour in silence staring at a piece of bread, when she could be out climbing trees or playing kickball? 

CAPTION THIS: When Rome Met Alexandria

Coptic Bishop: "Papa! Papa! Look what we drew!"
Francis: "Oh, how lovely! This is going right on the fridge." *slips into drawer*
(Full story here, here, here and here. Picture c/o: Vatican Radio English)

It's our first caption contest of the year! Joy! Mega-thanks to everyone who participated in our last caption contest. Without further ado, the winner is...