I have just received word that, after voting to remove a large statue of St. Junípero Serra that stands in front of their City Hall, the government of Ventura, California (which is in my pastoral region) is now considering removing the image of Padre Serra from the county seal. This entire effort to erase the memory of Serra is from a historical standpoint ridiculous and from a moral standpoint more than a little frightening. Let me address the ridiculous side first. To state it bluntly, Junípero Serra is being used as a convenient scapegoat and whipping boy for certain abuses inherent to eighteenth-century Spanish colonialism. Were such abuses real? Of course. But was Fr. Serra personally responsible for them? Of course not. I won’t deny for a moment that Serra probably engaged in certain disciplinary practices that we would rightfully regard as morally questionable, but the overwhelming evidence suggests that…

Acabo de recibir la noticia de que, después de votar para retirar una gran estatua de san Junípero Serra que se encuentra frente a su ayuntamiento, el gobierno de Ventura, California (que está en mi región pastoral) está considerando ahora la posibilidad de retirar la imagen del Padre Serra del sello de la ciudad y de las insignias de los oficiales de policía de Ventura. Todo este esfuerzo por borrar la memoria de Serra es desde el punto de vista histórico ridículo y desde el punto de vista moral más que un poco aterrador. Déjenme abordar el lado ridículo primero. Para decirlo sin rodeos, Junípero Serra está siendo utilizado como un conveniente chivo expiatorio de ciertos abusos inherentes al colonialismo español del siglo XVIII. ¿Fueron reales esos abusos? Por supuesto. ¿Pero fue el Padre Serra personalmente responsable de ellos? Por supuesto que no. No negaré ni por un momento que…

A principal reason why the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s was so successful both morally and practically was that it was led largely by people with a strong religious sensibility. The most notable of these leaders was, of course, Martin Luther King. To appreciate the subtle play between King’s religious commitment and his practical work, I would draw your attention to two texts—namely, his Letter from the Birmingham City Jail and his “I Have a Dream” speech, both from 1963. While imprisoned in Birmingham for leading a nonviolent protest, King responded to certain of his fellow Christian ministers who had criticized him for going too fast, expecting social change to happen overnight. The Baptist minister answered his critics in a perhaps surprising manner, invoking the aid of a medieval Catholic theologian. King drew their attention to the reflections of St. Thomas Aquinas on law, specifically Thomas’ theory…