“If the United States has never before seen a black priest, it must see one now.”
Servant of God Augustus Tolton, 1854-1897

Hello. It’s Elizabeth again, and this is the first in our Saints series--where we highlight the lives of Saints and how they resonate in our modern lives. Since this is our first post and it is Black History Month, we are talking today about Augustus Tolton: Servant of God and the first African-American priest.  Fr. Tolton was born a slave and--even after his escape to freedom and fighting in the Civil War--encountered racism in his schooling, his quest to enter seminary and fulfill his vocation, and his life as a priest.  So affected his life so greatly that he was forced to move to another diocese just to be able to act as a pastor.  His story is one of perseverance in acts of service and the pursuit of holiness.
Augustus was born to Martha Jane Chisley, slave of Stephen Elliot, and Peter Paul Tolton, slave of the Hager family in Ralls County, Missouri.  As a slave, Peter was forced to remain as the Hager family’s slave while Martha and their children would be property of the Elliots.  Due to this agreement, Augustus’ and his two siblings’ baptismal certificates do not name him or his parents but instead list him as:

‘a child, property of Stephen Elliot; and Savilla Elliot as sponsor, and the child’s birthdate of April 1, 1854.’ 

Can you imagine your baptismal certificate--the document listing you as a beloved, known child of God--not listing your name but instead identifying you as property?
After the attack on Fort Sumter, which started the Civil War, Peter escaped to join the Union Army and tragically died of dysentery in an Arkansas military dispensary shortly after.  Martha saw her sons working in the field and lashed by the overseer and knew they needed to run.  She gathered the children at night and made her way to Hannibal on the Mississippi.  Once there, they found a rowboat and started across the river.  If you’ve ever driven west, you’ve crossed the Mississippi: that great river that made the Midwest.  I seriously can’t imagine rowing across it without any experience. Nevertheless, Martha did it and the Toltons made it to Quincy, Illinois which boasted a community of escaped slaves.

Once in Quincy, Martha and her children joined St. Boniface, a German parish led by Fr. Schaeffermeyer, and its associated school, taught by Notre Dame sisters.  Augustus’ presence as the only African-American, however, incensed the rest of the parish.  Parents threatened to unenroll their children and discontinue support of the parish, they threw rocks through windows, they sent threats through the mail, and they circulated a petition to remove Fr. Schaeffermeyer.  After a month, Augustus (Gus) was forced to leave.  Fr. Schaeffermeyer poignantly remembers:

mother and son-her arms flung around the boy’s shoulders, walking down the sidewalk after we drove them out.

Just sit with this quote for a minute. Racism forced a young family out of their own parish.

Three years later, Augustus returned to school through the insistence of Fr. Peter McGirr at St. Lawrence.  It was this same priest who helped Gus find his vocation to the priesthood.  At this time, there were no African-American priests (two out east were of mixed race) and seminaries throughout the United States refused to admit Gus.  For almost seven years, Gus and the priests of Quincy looked for a seminary or an order that would admit him until a letter to the Urban College in Rome, the seminary that trains priests for work in mission countries, resulted in his enrollment.  Thinking he would be sent to Africa, Gus traveled to Rome to fulfill his vocation.  Once in Rome, he was invested in his seminarian’s garb, black cassock and biretta, with a red sash and tassel, special to the Urban College.  He would wear these for the rest of his life.

On April 24, 1886, August Tolton was ordained at St. John Lateran and instead of being sent to Africa as he assumed, he was told he would be sent home, to Quincy, Illinois.  In the words of Cardinal Simeoni:

America has been called the most enlightened nation in the world.  We shall see whether it deserves that honor.  If the United States has never before seen a black priest, it must see one now.

Fr. Gus returned to Quincy to a hearty welcome and full church at St. Peter’s including his mentor Fr. McGirr.

Fr. Gus took over the African-American parish of St. Joseph’s and worked to improve the parish school and preached against alcohol abuse.  However, despite his sermons and his ability to fill his church every weekend, few people converted to Catholicism and the school faltered due to issues of the surrounding areas poverty.  Additionally, the racism that prevented his enrollment in seminary followed him as a pastor.  The new pastor of nearby St. Boniface Church called him the “[n****r] priest and campaigned to remove Fr. Gus from his ministry.  The final incident occurred when Fr. Gus officiated the wedding of the daughter of Quincy’s most prominent families to an unacceptable person in an African -American church.  The outcry was unbearable and he successfully petitioned to be sent to the Diocese of Chicago. 

In Chicago, Fr. Gus oversaw the establishment of St. Monica’s, an African-American parish, with a monetary gift from a laywoman and the help of St. Katherine Drexel.  However, the distance to St. Monica’s was too great for many African-Americans who could attend white parishes without problems and the parish struggled.  Despite low attendance, Fr. Gus was tasked with working to improve the poverty around him.  He constantly was trying to find help for individuals and making rounds to the poorest in his parish.  By 1897, Fr. Gus was exhausted and worked to the bone.  While making his way to a priest’s retreat in Bourbonnais, he collapsed of heat stroke and later died on July 9, 1897.  He was 43.

He was brought back to St. Peter’s in Quincy for his funeral mass.  The church was filled; however, there were few African-Americans in the crowd.  Sadly, St. Monica’s in Chicago was closed in 1945 and there was no need for an African-American parish in Quincy.  Fr. Augustus Tolton’s Cause for Canonization was initiated by the Archdiocese of Chicago in 2011.

On the outside, Fr. Gus’ story may seem to be one of failure.  He did not convert thousands, his parish closed within 50 years of his death, and he constantly faced racism from every side including his fellow priests.  However, this is a man who escaped slavery to freedom, who fought his way into the seminary, and continued to serve the poor of his parish despite the antagonism of other priests and society at large.  I believe he shows the beauty of perseverance in faith.  He was baptized without a name but God called him personally to the priesthood.  How often do I feel enslaved in my sin without a name?  But He calls me by name, Elizabeth, to escape and follow Him.  Gus didn’t have great numbers, but he followed the Lord all the same.  I most likely will not become a missionary to the poorest countries or preach the Gospel on a national stage or even convert tens of people. But God doesn’t base His love or admittance to Heaven on numbers or grand acts.  Instead, He asks me to persevere in the quiet and hardest of times.  To escape the slavery of sin and follow Him in my vocation when it does not seem possible.  To serve those around me even without thanks or conversion.  To set my eyes on Him instead of earthly rewards.  And isn’t that amazing?  I am given a name, called by the Creator, and all He cares about are my attempts to follow Him.  To me, this is true freedom.

Fr. Tolton, Pray for us.
 
All information for this post was taken from Fr. Tolton’s Complete Biography from the Archdiocese of Chicago.