By Joe Lee
MADISON – A book you may have missed during the pandemic is the excellent biography of Sister Anne Brooks, The Power of One (University Press of Mississippi, 2020). Penned by Sally Palmer Thomason and Jean Carter Fisher, this brief but powerful read dives deep into the culturally transforming work a devoted Catholic nun did for the people of poverty-stricken Tallahatchie County, Mississippi, for over three decades.

That’s merely part of the story, however. Raised in Maryland by a high-ranking naval officer and an emotionally distant, alcoholic mother, Sister Anne (Kitty, growing up) learned early on that her parents wanted nothing to do with organized religion and even preferred their daughter not associate with neighborhood kids, let alone cultivate friendships.

So how did this young woman, after growing up in such an environment, develop such a deep, abiding faith? What empowered her to thoroughly immerse herself in serving the least among us in places so far from home?

As Sister Anne is still quick to point out, the kindness of people in her formative years can’t be overstated. The family of practicing Catholics across the street in Maryland – with a daughter to whom Kitty discreetly became close – were instrumental in her decision to devote herself to a life of service.

As a young adult, while teaching at a Catholic school and volunteering at a free medical clinic in Clearwater, Florida, Sister Anne was plagued with pain from rheumatoid arthritis. Not surprisingly, she was skeptical upon meeting a doctor who took a holistic approach to medical treatment and insisted he could cure her. But as Sister Anne would come to realize – and apply to her ministry the rest of her life – the holistic approach was very much about building trust.

The death of Emmett Till and the subsequent trial of those accused of his murder, which took place while Kitty Brooks was in high school, was a great motivation for her to serve in Tutwiler, Mississippi (just minutes from where the horrific crime occurred) once the opportunity presented itself in 1983. After relocating and seeing for herself the once-prosperous railroad town dying a slow, torturous death while its mostly black, largely uneducated population lived in squalor, she prayed long and hard for guidance.

The answer she received: it was time to go to medical school. At age forty.

Sister Anne Brooks eventually became Dr. Anne Brooks, DO (Doctor of Osteopathy), and spent more than three decades healing and building trust in black citizens who, when she arrived, still wouldn’t look white people in the eye. As she says, treating the whole person – the heart of the holistic medical approach – absolutely requires listening and earning one’s trust.

Now retired and living with her fellow sisters at St. Joseph’s Provincial House in Latham, New York, Sister Anne Brooks has a story that needs to be heard not just by Catholics, but most everyone in these trying times. Highly recommended.

(Joe Lee is the Editor-in-Chief of Dogwood Press, a small but traditional publishing house headquartered in central Mississippi. He is a regular contributor to Mississippi Catholic.)

From the Archives
By Mary Woodward
JACKSON – Rev. John Edward Gunn, a Marist priest and native of County Tyrone, Ireland, was appointed the sixth Bishop of Natchez by Pope Pius X in 1911. He was ordained a bishop at Sacred Heart Church in Atlanta where he was serving at the time on August 29 of that year.

Bishop Gunn was known as a brilliant orator and for having tremendous energy. He cultivated the diocese’s relationship with Catholic Extension to help in the building of chapels throughout the state. By the time of his death in 1924, almost every Catholic in Mississippi was able to reach one of these chapels for Mass at least once a month. Catholic churches grew from 75 to 149 during his administration, and Catholics grew in number from 17,000 to more than 31,000.

He also helped found St. Augustine Seminary with the Society of the Divine Word in Greenville for the formation of African American clergy in 1923. The seminary later moved to Bay St. Louis.

It is rumored that Bishop Gunn preferred Pass Christian to Natchez and had hoped to move the diocesan offices there.

Bishop Gunn’s 13 years of service to the Diocese were marked by the difficult four years of the first World War and the ravages of Spanish influenza.

Not only was he a gifted orator, but he was a fine chronicler of daily life as is proven in his diary. From his diary we find an interesting entry from Nov. 8-10, 1918, that is very relevant to today’s pandemic atmosphere. It also contains a noteworthy bit of information about the end of the war.

“I left [Nov. 8] for St. Louis to assist at the consecration of the new Bishop of Galveston, Bishop Byrne. When I reached St. Louis, I got into the midst of the flu. Not only were the churches, schools, and public buildings closed but all the stores, soda water fountains and everything.”

“On Saturday night I walked the streets of St. Louis for more than an hour and could not buy a cigar and the question was – how could the consecration take place in St. Louis Cathedral on November 10th when it was forbidden to open a church door?”

“I went ‘round on Saturday night to see Archbishop Glennon and found Bishop Allen with him. The Archbishop seemed to take everything very quietly and said that it was forbidden to open the main door of the Cathedral but there were several other doors that were not officially closed, with the result that the consecration took place on Nov. 10. The crowd was small, the ceremonies were beautiful, the dinner was as heavy as the oratory and there was an atmosphere of unrest everywhere.”

“The papers were filled with the flu conditions of the country; the war conditions were reaching a climax, and everybody was on edge.”

“I left St. Louis on Sunday night [Nov. 10] and on my way home, at Fulton [Missouri], I thought that the world had come to an end. I was in the Pullman compartment when noise broke loose in the form of whistles, bells, bands and every kind of thing that could make a rattle and a screech at the time when ghosts are supposed to appear and graves yawn, etc.”

“It was occasioned by the fake news that had gone over the world that the Germans had signed the armistice. When the real news of the Armistice came nobody believed it.”

“I managed to get to New Orleans on the 11th and the city looked like the morning after Mardi Gras. The people had shouted themselves hoarse over the fake armistice and had no voice for the real one.”

Although WWI was a very complex time for those of Irish heritage due to British rule and treatment of them, the Bishop believed strongly in service to one’s country. “In life and death, I am proud of three things: my Irish birth, my Catholic faith, and my American citizenship,” he said. “I tried to translate my love for all three into service and sacrifice,” he wrote in his will.

Bishop Gunn died at Hospital Hotel Dieu in New Orleans on Feb. 19, 1924, and is buried beside his fellow Irishman Bishop Thomas Heslin on Catholic Hill in the Natchez City Cemetery. His portrait hangs in the dining room of the Cathedral rectory in Jackson. As in any good portrait, Bishop Gunn’s eyes follow you as you move through the room.

In his will the Bishop also wrote, “I believe in God. I believe all He has said because He said it and because His infallible Church heard Him and told me what He said. I love Him with my whole heart and soul and strength and for His sake I love others.”

Bishop Gunn’s diary is so rich that we will share some more gems from it in the future.

(Mary Woodward is Chancellor and Archivist for the Diocese of Jackson)

Parishes are faced with different realities as to the size and makeup of parishioners, and the size and layout of their building facilities. The diocese has decided it is still prudent to allow the local parishes to address their reality in making decisions how to address the pandemic through these protocols. These suggestions should be implemented based on the parish’s reality and the local community reality and community regulations that are in place.

– Social distancing of 3 feet is recommended.
– Masks are encouraged for everyone.

For full list of protocols visit jacksondiocese.org/public-health-concerns

By Catholic Extension
PHILADELPHIA – In 1830 the Choctaw Native Americans signed the Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek, which commenced their removal from Mississippi and the treacherous journey to Oklahoma on the infamous Trail of Tears.

Many Choctaw, however, refused to leave their ancestral land. Those who chose to stay had to become invisible to survive, hiding in swamps and working as sharecroppers. In 1884 a Catholic priest was sent to see what could be done to minister to the Choctaw, and Holy Rosary Indian Mission was established.

Catholic Extension has supported Holy Rosary Indian Mission since 1926. This includes helping build and repair two of its three mission churches: Holy Rosary in Tucker in 1969 and St. Therese in Philadelphia in 1972. Between Holy Rosary, St. Therese and St. Catherine in Conehatta, this faith community in the Diocese of Jackson spans 87 miles.

For a combined 31 years, a missionary priest has been helping the Choctaw grow closer to God in a place where He is ever so present. Father Bob Goodyear, S.T., who was attracted as a high school freshman to the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity, has truly answered the religious congregation’s charism to work for the “preservation of the faith among the poor and abandoned” in his ministry.

“Father Bob Goodyear is so successful in his ministry because he walks with the people every step of the way,” said Diocese of Jackson Bishop Joseph R. Kopacz. “Father Bob has remained stalwart in his love for the people and in his commitment to foster their Catholic faith in our loving God.”

Language is the doorway to the soul
In his seminary formation, Father Goodyear never imagined serving a Native American community. After arriving at Holy Rosary Indian Mission in 1975, he spent his first years learning everything he could about Choctaw culture.

This included the Choctaw language — despite being told not to bother because non-natives had never been successful doing so.

“That’s the wrong thing to say to me,” said Father Goodyear. “Because now I’m going to try.”

With the help of three Choctaw, he was able to learn the language. After eight years of study, his education reached its culmination: translating the Catholic Mass into the Choctaw language. On May 1, 1983, Father Goodyear celebrated his first Mass in Choctaw at St. Catherine, with a Vatican-approved text.

During the homily, he delivered this inspiring message:
“Language is more than words and how you put them together. Language tells you your history. It tells you your dreams.”

Along with learning the Choctaw language, Father Goodyear has had his hands in several of what he calls “non-traditional” ministries. He established the Choctaw Suicide Council and its corresponding “Suicide Counseling Manual.” Additionally, he opened a youth recreation center.

Father Goodyear served Holy Rosary Indian Mission from 1975 to 1990. After two assignments away from the reservation, he returned in 2006. Upon returning to the Mississippi Choctaw, the tribal chief told him, “I am very worried about the spiritual life of my people.”

Forming Choctaw Catholic leaders for the future
In Father Goodyear’s time away, the Catholic Church lost some of its footing among the Choctaw. His focus in his last 15 years of ministry and counting has been on developing lay leadership at the three mission churches. These lay leaders will help teach and pass on the faith to future generations.

“My most exciting moment is confirmation,” Father Goodyear said. “I’m the catechist for confirmation because I want them to get everything they need. Kids that have been confirmed have gone on to be eucharistic ministers.”

Father Goodyear, 72, has eucharistic ministers playing a vital role at Holy Rosary Indian Mission. He developed a training manual that teaches eucharistic ministers not only how to serve during Mass, but also how to lead Communion services in the absence of a priest and how to deliver the Eucharist to the sick and shut-ins. The manual is used throughout the Diocese of Jackson and at parishes in other states.

Father Goodyear had been pleased with the progress made in developing lay leaders. That progress, however, was halted by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Having performed three to four funerals a week at the height of the pandemic — the average number for a single month in previous years — he has shifted his ministry in these unprecedented times toward helping the Choctaw grieve.

“Their beliefs about death are very special,” Father Goodyear said. “They have a close relationship with the spirits who have died.”

Now, as the Choctaw hopefully emerge from the pandemic, Father Goodyear aims to renew the church on the reservation by continuing to develop lay leaders and by helping the Choctaw believe in themselves.

“I preach that you can’t really believe in God if you don’t believe in yourself, because you’re made in His image,” Father Goodyear said. “God not only created you, He believes in you.”