By Vincent L. Hall
Reverend Frederick Douglas Haynes III is a master raconteur. If you are confused, a raconteur uses anecdotes skillfully to persuade or make a point.
Freddy does it weekly at his pulpit at Friendship-West Baptist Church and crisscrosses the nation speaking to audiences hungry for his wisdom-filled oratories.
On one such Sunday morning, Doc recounted a spellbinding story about the Nuns of Loretto. The legend began in 1850 in New Mexico when Bishop Jean Baptiste Larry saw a need to educate the girls in the territory. The rest is miraculous. The Loretto Chapel website spilled the tea, and I just want to hit the high points. What had happened was…
“Bishop Lamy sent a plea to Catholic teaching orders to open a school for girls. The Sisters of Loretto responded and sent six sisters to open the Loretto Academy.
Having been recently under Mexican rule, the Territory of New Mexico was full of Spanish-speaking citizens, so the six had to learn the Spanish language and, after an arduous trip during which the Mother Superior died, finally arrived in Santa Fe and opened their school in 1853.
By 1873, the Sisters were able to start the construction of a Chapel. Using the same French architect and builders as Saint Francis Cathedral Basilica, the Chapel of Our Lady of Light was patterned after Archbishop Lamy’s favorite Sainte Chapelle in Paris.
Unfortunately, the architect died before access to the choir loft was built. Given the height of the loft and the small size of the Chapel, a staircase would have taken up too much floor space, thereby reducing the seating capacity to an unacceptably small level.”
Parenthetically, that’s kinda how Black Americans feel right now. We are in what’s supposed to be a sanctuary, we can see the choir loft, but our access is limited.
Anyway, back to the story. “Legend states that seeking guidance and help, the Sisters of Loretto prayed a nine day novena to St. Joseph, Patron Saint of Carpenters. A novena is a special prayer said for nine consecutive days.
On the final day of the novena, a carpenter appeared with only a hammer and carpenter’s square. He built what is now known as the Miraculous Staircase with simple tools and wooden pegs.
The rare wood is not native to the American Southwest. When the Staircase was complete, it is said that the carpenter dis- appeared without receiving thanks or payment. The Sisters tried all local lumber stores but could not find accounts open for supplies for their stairs.
The Staircase has two complete 360-degree turns and no center pole for structural sup- port. Its entire weight rests on the bottom stair. The banisters were added approximately ten years later due to the difficulty of climbing the tall, tapered stairs with no railing.
Some believe the carpenter was St. Joseph himself, while others think it was someone St. Joseph sent. What is known is that the Sisters of Loretto prayed, and their prayers were answered.”
My point in rehearsing this allegory or narrative is to declare that we are at a point in this nation whereby those of us who profess prayer and supplication actually practice what we preach. Our future is stuck between a belligerent former president bent on getting revenge and a nation that is navigating without a compass.
At some level, we must begin making the same assessment Bishop Lamy made. The children need to be educated, and it is the church’s responsibility to shore up the sagging sides that “the state” does not care to fortify.
We also must assess the house sanctuaries and safe places every child deserves. And whether it’s a stray bullet in a Georgia suburb or aimless bombing in the Gaza Strip, we are not providing sufficient cover for their minds, bodies, or spirits.
It doesn’t matter to me who or how we fix our house; it must be repaired. The Sisters of Loretto called on the saints, and so must we. We may not see who or how it gets done, but that should be our least worry.
If we are to construct a new Miraculous Staircase, we must follow three steps that the nuns followed.
We must believe, pray after doing all that we can, and none of us can be concerned with who gets the credit.
A long-time Texas Metro News columnist, Dallas native Vincent L. Hall is an author, writer, award-winning writer, and a lifelong Drapetomaniac.
