This is the year of hope.
The Catechism calls hope “the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of Heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1817).
As a Colorado Catholic, the most immediate figure that comes to mind when I read this is Denver’s own Servant of God, Julia Greeley. What besides a radical fixation on the Kingdom of Heaven could move someone who had every reason to hate to be an irresistible force of love? Who besides the Holy Spirit can give someone that kind of strength?
Born into slavery, Julia bore the wounds of its abuse her whole life. One of her eyes was so damaged by a beating as a child that it oozed fluid continually, and she had to carry a handkerchief to wipe it.
And yet, Julia devoted her life to serving others. Her entire life was so utterly focused on the things of Heaven that she lived in self-forgetful charity, loving God with her whole being and her neighbor as herself.
She would give alms. She served others devotedly. She even once donated $30 of her own money — a small fortune for her — to help a small basement chapel where she attended Mass purchase a new organ. Her eyes were fixed on heaven.
On the one hand, Julia belonged to her day’s lowest conceivable social rank: she was an uneducated, unmarried, Catholic, disabled, former slave woman with no family. On the other hand, even those who tried to slander her inadvertently assisted in documenting her sanctity.
Take, for instance, when the first Governor of the Colorado Territory, William Gilpin, divorced his wife and sued for parental rights of their children. He used his wife’s friendship with Julia Greeley to discredit her in court, claiming Julia was a “lewd and unprincipled woman” who had destroyed all decency in their home. As a result, we have sworn legal testimonies that, far from accusing her character, roundly acclaim Julia’s goodness and virtues.
The Poor in Spirit
Julia was poor her whole life but was ready to give what little she had to the service of the poor and the Church, and beyond what she could give, she begged on behalf of others. Stories abound of Julia procuring clothes, toys, food – even a mattress – when she learned someone was in need.
Julia made little distinction between people’s desires and necessities: she was as eager to beg for a bag of potatoes as she was for a pretty party dress for one of “her Cinderellas” to attend a parish dance. If Julia received torn clothes or broken toys, she took them home in her red wagon, repaired them and gave them away. What is more astonishing is that Julia gave these items to the poor in secret, usually at night, so that the white beneficiaries of her charity would not be ashamed to receive help from a Black woman.
In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says the poor in spirit inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. The great spiritual teachers have noted that those who are poor in spirit — those who hold what they have lightly, ready to give it away — are those who receive the great gifts that God wants to bestow on them.
As one of the “poor in spirit,” Julia was undeniably heir to the Kingdom of Heaven. Transfigured by hope, even the streets of Denver — from Sacred Heart Parish through Five Points to the firehouses — for Julia were the gilded streets of Heaven.
Joy & Beauty Contests
How do you recognize hope alive in a soul? One way, I think, is the testament of joy. Real joy, after all, is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. The soul animated by hope is daily looking to and, indeed, living in the Triune God. Joy, therefore, is the proper response to the good things that God has promised for those who love him.
Julia’s joy was especially clear in her particularly delicious sense of humor.
There was an occasion when Julia’s parish, Sacred Heart, was having a fundraiser. Some girls in the congregation thought up the idea of making it a beauty contest: votes would be cast by monetary donation. Whichever girl raised the most would be declared the beauty queen.
Julia decided to compete. At that point, she was an old woman, bent by arthritis, with an oozing eye and adorned in worn-out rags. She did not seem a strong contender for the coveted prize.
However, Julia intended to win because it was the funny thing to do.
She was already a regular visitor to every firehouse in Denver, where she delivered pamphlets on the Sacred Heart and collected goods to bring to the poor. So, Julia went to the local firehouses and told the men about the contest. She ended up earning more votes and raising more money than everyone else and was crowned the parish’s Beauty Queen.
The Goal of Hope
When she died on the feast of the Sacred Heart in 1918, Julia became the first layperson to lie “in state” in a Catholic Church. Without ease of communication or any written notice, all of Denver learned their Angel of Charity had died. For five hours, people passed through Loyola Chapel to pay their last respects: the rich in their limousines, the poor on foot, White folks and Black folks, religious and laity. Groups of people who had nothing in common except Julia’s charity.
Julia was born into slavery, but she became the first person entombed at the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Denver.
Julia’s childhood was nightmarish, but priests who knew her well “declared her the most saintly character they had ever met” (Denver Catholic Register, 1922).
Julia had a bad eye, but people who knew her had trouble remembering which eye it was. They recalled most strongly how her face always glowed.
Julia lived in secret charity but God, who sees what is secret, has given her back to us as a model of virtue, perhaps especially of hope.
