Make a pilgrimage to Colorado’s first shrine for victims of human trafficking

Guardian Angels Parish carries mission with St. Josephine Bakhita’s intercession

Vladimir Mauricio-Perez

It’s a reality.

On any given day during 2016, an estimate of 403,000 people were living in conditions of modern slavery in the United States, according to the 2018 Global Slavery Index. This evil that so many times seems foreign, also exists in America, and it may be much more common than many believed — ranging from forced labor to forced sexual exploitation of adults and children.

Nonetheless, where darkness is present, the light of prayer and charity can make a true difference.

Catholics in northern Colorado can now make an impact by making a pilgrimage to Guardian Angels Parish in Mead — located nearly 35 miles north of Denver on I-25 — which Archbishop Samuel J. Aquila designated as a shrine for victims of human trafficking in January 2018.

It all began with the devotion to St. Josephine Bakhita that Father Alan Hartway, CPPS, initiated even before he became pastor of the parish.

“Even when I started coming to the parish as a substitute priest in the early 2000s, I began to emphasize [the meaning of] hospitality to [our parishioners], and how important that was, as the forefront ministry of evangelization parishes,” he recounted. “So, I introduced them to St. Josephine Bakhita because she is also the patron saint of hospitality ministry —that was her work.”

The Sudanese-born saint was kidnapped as a child and sold into slavery. After being sold several times, she arrived in Italy, and was gifted to a family that gave her nursemaid duties.

The future saint would accompany the girl she cared for to catechism classes in Venice, where she met the Canossian Sisters and later decided to join the Church, adopting the name Josephine.

After refusing to return to Africa with the family that claimed rights over her, the Canossian Sisters testified on her behalf before a judge, who eventually ruled she was free, since slavery was illegal in Italy.

Bakhita joined the religious order, where she carried out her duties of cooking, sewing and welcoming guests, eventually becoming very loved by children and visitors.

“When we built our new Church, I requested from Archbishop Aquila that we have [St. Josephine’s] relic in our altar, and when we secured the relic from the Canossian Sisters, in that same letter he designated this [parish] as a shrine for victims of human trafficking. So, he challenged the parish to have a hospitality [that goes] very deep,” Father Hartway said.

MEAD, CO, Jan. 1, 2018: Guardian Angels Parish celebrates a dedication Mass of their newly built parish center with Archbishop Samuel J. Aquila. (Photo by Jason Weinrich | Denver Catholic)

While the parish community is still developing its mission, Father Hartway hopes to begin contributing to this cause by educating people on the reality of modern slavery, praying for the victims and welcoming people how they deserve to be welcomed.

“The first step is familiarizing people with [St. Josephine Bakhita’s] story. The plan is to build on that gradually and develop the full meaning of our shrine… We have started by praying [for the victims] and honoring her feast day Feb. 8. We have a nine-day novena beginning Jan. 31, expose her relic and icon during the novena and nine more days after that, and have named our parish hall the Bakhita Hall,” he said.

“We also want to help people realize the effect of human trafficking and modern slavery in the modern world, and to make people conscious — to provide a way for them to be generous to these kinds of causes. It also opens their hearts to hospitality to everyone… something we take seriously here. When people come here on pilgrimage, we would show them the hospitality maybe they’ve never had in their lives.”

Christians have observed the tradition of making pilgrimages to sacred sites since the first centuries of Christianity, when they would visit the tombs of the apostles and martyrs, and the Holy Land.

More than sightseeing, however, pilgrimages are deep and transformative spiritual journeys, which were even popular acts of sacrifice and penance for grave sins during the Middle Ages.

People can go on pilgrimage to ask for special intentions or causes to the patron saint of a specific shrine or sacred place.

St. Josephine Bakhita’s first-class relic is exposed during 18 days, beginning with the novena that leads up to hear fest day Feb. 8. (Photo provided)

The faithful in Colorado will now be able to make a pilgrimage to Guardian Angels Parish and ask for St. Bakhita’s intercession for the victims of human trafficking and their own special intentions.

“We welcome everyone, regardless of their language, their color, their race, etc.,” Father Hartway said, calling to mind that many victims of human trafficking in the United States are people from other countries who are forced to work in inhumane conditions, under domestic servitude, or at times are even exploited by the pornography industry.

“Migrants, and especially migrant women and children, are particularly vulnerable to modern slavery in the United States due to their ‘low level of education, inability to speak English, immigration status, and lack of familiarity with the U.S. employment protections,’” the 2018 Global Slavery Index attests.

Children, and particularly those who are or have been in the child welfare system, are also particularly vulnerable to abuse and exploitation.

Amid this reality, the parish community at Guardian Angels Parish in Mead hopes to shine a light for victims of human trafficking by reflecting the spirit of the saint who, even after suffering the endless pains of slavery, was able to say, “The Lord has loved me so much: We must love everyone.”

COMING UP: A man for strengthening others

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When the choirs of angels led Father Paul Mankowski, SJ, into the Father’s House on September 3, I hope the seraphic choirmaster chose music appropriate to the occasion.  Had I been asked, I would have suggested the Latin antiphon Ecce sacerdos magnus as arranged by Anton Bruckner. The all-stops-pulled moments in Bruckner’s composition, deploying organ, brass, and full choir, would have been a perfect match for Paul Mankowski’s rock-solid Catholic faith, his heroic ministry, and his robust literary and oratorical style; the a capella sections, softly sung, mirror the gentleness with which he healed souls. Above all, I would have suggested Bruckner’s motet because Father Mankowski truly was what the antiphon celebrates: “a great priest who in his days pleased  God.”

We were friends for some 30 years and I can say without reservation that I have never met anyone like Paul Mankowski. He was off-the-charts brilliant, an extraordinary linguist and scholar; but he wore his learning lightly and was a tremendous wit. He rarely expressed doubts about anything; but he displayed a great sensitivity to the doubts and confusions of those who had the humility to confess that they were at sea. He could be as fierce as Jeremiah in denouncing injustice and dishonesty; but the compassion he displayed to spiritually wounded fellow-priests and laity, who sought healing through the work of grace at his hands, was just as notable a feature of his personality.

His curriculum vitae was singular. The son of working-class parents, he put himself through the University of Chicago working summers in a steel mill. He did advanced degrees at Oxford and Harvard, becoming the sparring partner of a future Australian prime minister, Tony Abbott, at the former, and delving deeply into the mysteries of Semitic philology – unfathomable, to most of his friends – at the latter. He taught at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome and was pastor of an English-speaking parish in Amman, Jordan. Wherever he was, he lived like a true ascetic; he was also the best company imaginable at a meal or a party.

He was a writer of genius, although his published bibliography is considerably slimmer than it might have been, thanks to the years when he was silenced or censored by his religious superiors. A good example of his ability to combine keen insight and droll humor is his 1992 dissection of the goings-on at the annual convention of the American Academy of Religion (available here). More recently, Father Mankowski drew on his extensive experience as a confessor and spiritual director to pen, with his superiors’ permission, a respectful but sharp critique of his fellow Jesuit James Martin’s book, Building a Bridge (available here). In the decades between those two pieces, and when permitted to do so, he published essays and reviews on a wide range of topics, including literature, politics, Church affairs, biblical translations and the priesthood, while sharing his private musings with friends in a seemingly endless series of pungent parodies, revised song lyrics, and imagined news stories.

Years ago, his friend Father Richard John Neuhaus dubbed Father Mankowski one of the “Papal Bulls:” Jesuits of a certain generation notable for their intellectually sophisticated and unwavering Catholic orthodoxy, which often got them into hot water of various temperatures (including boiling) with their Ignatian brothers and superiors. Paul Mankowski was no bull, papal or otherwise, in a china shop, though. He relished debate and was courteous in it; what he found off-putting was the unwillingness of Catholic progressives to fight their corner with a frank delineation of their position. This struck him as a form of hypocrisy. And while Father Mankowski, the good shepherd, often brought strays back to the Lord’s flock, he was unsparingly candid about what he perceived as intellectual dishonesty, or what he recently deplored as “ignoble timidity” in facing clerical corruption. Paul Mankowski was not a man of the subjunctive, and he paid the price for it.

He is beyond all that now, and I like to imagine St. Ignatius of Loyola welcoming him to the Father’s House with a hearty “Well done, my son.” In this valley of tears, freshly moistened by those who mourn his untimely death at age 66, Father Paul V. Mankowski, SJ, will be remembered by those of us who loved him as a man and a priest who, remaining faithful to his Jesuit and sacerdotal vocations, became a tower of strength for others. This was a man of God. This was a man, whose courageous manliness reflected his godliness.