Greg_Groogan's Blog

Sunday morning - what some have called the most segregated hour in America.

 A time when citizens in this country gather to worship - often with  people that look pretty much like themselves. Many, over the generations, have found comfort in this sameness and shared experience.

This past Sunday I thought about this oft repeated observation as I sat among my congregation at  St. Thomas More Catholic Church. There before my eyes was an absolute contradiction of  the national norm.

 Certainly, there were caucasions like myself - but their numbers  were more than matched by a collection of faces reflecting the world in which I live and work . I saw  first generation African immigrants born in places like Nigeria, but now making homes and lives in  Houston.  I saw Hispanic families whose roots run south to Mexico, El Salvador and Nicaragua. I saw worshippers with cultural ties to the Phillipines and Vietnam. And I saw Black Americans whose ancestors had celebrated mass in and around hurricane ravaged New Orleans for the past three centuries.

 It was, I thought with satisfaction, the most INTEGRATED hour of my life, spent  surrounded by folks bound by a faith which transcends the earthly differences with which humans divide and sub-divide.

 Comfort - redefined.