Father Valentine Erhahon, Parish Priest of Saints Simon and Jude Catholic Church, Streatham reflects on what Racial Justice brings to his parish.
A Parish Where There Is Always Room For One More
There is a picture. It is Edwardian. The lady in it wore a merry widow hat and a black long
trench coat. Her right-hand rests on a young boy wearing smart shoes and a suit of
shorts. They stand before our Church of Saints Simon and Jude Catholic Church here on
Streatham Hill. It is 1916, two years into the First World War. Our parish lost twelve men
during The Great Wars. Looking at this picture, I often wonder if her husband had gone to
war or was one of those who prayed in this Church before going. I always wonder what
her story was.
There is another picture. It is a picture of a lady and her son standing in what is now the
Narthex. Mum, dad and children are known to me. Her son in the picture is the first child
I baptised when I was appointed Parish Priest here. She is standing at the same entrance
of the church, teaching her son how to make the sign of the cross as they go off to
nursery.
Between these two women a century apart, we have a history of different people brought
together by their shared love of Jesus Christ in our small, beautiful church. Between
them, we have generations of many other stories of war, of migration from here to there,
of celebrations, of faith, of discipleship, of community, of friendship, of struggles, of hurt,
of pain, of healing, all interwoven together to tell one story of a welcoming community
that is always outward looking, rooted in the Eucharistic. Next year, our parish will
celebrate 120 years on Streatham Hill after being founded in 1906 at the dawn of the 20th
Century.
Our parish history tells us that our church first welcomed Belgian refugees during the
First World War. It welcomed Caribbeans on Empire Windrush in the 1950s, Irish migrants
in the 1960s, and groups of Italian, French, and Spanish communities shortly afterwards.
We also know that our parish welcomed Western Africans, especially those from the then
Bendel State in Nigeria, in the 1970s. At the turn of the millennium, our parish welcomed
different communities from India, especially Goans and those from Kerala.
Today, we are in a new era. Our parish welcomed different nationalities just before and
after the pandemic, no longer as set groups. Today, more than ever before, our parish
opens her doors to everyone from every background. It follows my one shared principle:
In this Church, there is always room for one more because of Jesus.
Personally, I feel blessed to be a part of this community because it is what my younger
self had dreamt of experiencing. I can relate with those who share stories not just of
encounters with racism but of the impact of prejudices and unconscious bias rooted in
policies and procedures.
That is why my experience of being a member of the Racial and Cultural Inclusion
Commission of the Archdiocese of Southwark from its early days has been invaluable. Its
focus on oneness in Christ, drawn from Galatians 3:28, reminds us that while we
recognise the evil of racism and its long-term impacts on social mobility, flourishing and
community cohesion, there is still work to do in creating a culture change that is
welcoming. I am pleased with the leadership because it creates a robust sense of
belonging for everyone without divisions; it offers practical support to parishes, such as
the Toolkit for Racial and Cultural Inclusion for Catholic Churches. I like the theme,
“Pilgrim of Hope: Our Journey Together Towards Racial Justice.” For my parish, this
theme reminds us that we are a Pilgrim People of Hope going through the Holy Door of
Repentance, Renewal and Revival in this Jubilee year. Ours is a parish family with many
nationalities, languages, and backgrounds that is always in prayer, one that loves and
cares for each other because of Jesus. My parishioners who attend Racial Justice
Sunday have always found a sense of profound joy in a shared community spirit where
difference is celebrated around the Eucharistic table.
When I reflect on what Racial Justice brings to my parish, I like the memories we share
each year. I like the words that have kept us together. I like the rich intercontinental
accents. I like the various languages in prayer. I like the space we give to listen, learn,
heal, forgive, and move on. I like the various Items in our church that jolt our collective
memory of moments of profound unity. Take a look at any one of our stained glass
windows in our church, such as the different depictions of our lady, or the saints and you
will see how other cultures in this church inspired the arts. I like the unfinished stories
that continue from one generation to another.
I like the care and respect we give each other. I like the honesty we show when
recognising cultural tensions. I like the efforts we put into addressing these challenges. I
like the transparency inspired by the command to love in John 15:12-13. I like how we
see each other as brothers and sisters. I like how we see each other as friends. I like how
our Catholic Faith inspires us to work together for the common good. Most of all, I like
how we have one parish story of welcoming, made up of different stories of loss, success,
and new beginnings.
Someday in the future, when I have long left this parish, I would like to receive a postcard
picture of a typical Sunday Mass of Saints Simon and Jude, Streatham Hill; I hope the
picture will be of one family of different nationalities, races, cultures, and backgrounds, a
people who call each other brothers and sisters all united in prayer because of Jesus.
An advocate for racial justice and a Permanent Deacon for the Archdiocese of Southwark.
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