Christ Is A Tapestry. He Was At My High School Reunion.

by Darryl L. Fortson

Tapestry

"Used in reference to an intricate or complex combination of things or sequence of events."

Christ is a tapestry – at least that is what He was two weekends ago at my high school reunion. I saw Him weaving, and weaved. It will be in another realm that I will see the face of Christ, but this weekend, I saw his presence keenly.

  My high school, St. Ignatius College Prep in Chicago, was a clap-trap building when I arrived there in the summer of 1976 (Or was it 1776? Lol). Both the old and “new” wings of the school had been built in the 1800’s. We sometimes had to wear our jackets in the classroom because the wind was worming its way through porous windowsills. And there were murmurings of closure of the school due to financial stress.

  Looking back, my first glimpse of the divine tapestry for me was not recognizable as anything divine at all -it was just a comedian. But not just any comedian - Bob Hope! Fr. Joseph Bowen, the school President at the time, wrote the world-famous comedian seeking his assistance through a performance fundraiser. Hope graciously accepted the offer to do the show, which raised $250,000 (over $1.4 million in today's money). More importantly, it put the school, already possessing a sterling academic reputation, on the map. That fundraiser was the genesis of the school’s ascent in the Chicagoland area.

  My social studies teacher that first year was a very young man by the name of John Chandler. I don’t know how old he was then and I don’t know how old he is now, but he had to be a “young man," because some 49 years later, he is still at the school, only now he is running it, as he has been for many years. Before Mr. Chandler, the school building was utilitarian, spartan, and drafty, but you can see the money raised by the school in the quality of the woodwork, the furniture, the artwork, and even in the beauty and diverse fare in the library sitting atop the school. (I could spend a year in that library!) But what you are really seeing is the love the alumni and the Chicagoland community has shown the school, and you can feel the love that the school has shown the students. Christ is always involved when a Christian institution grows and flourishes so consistently for so long under one man’s dedicated leadership. It moved me deeply at the Reunion Mass Celebration to hear Mr. Chandler open and close the event in a strong, clear voice. He remembered me, and he remembered my mother.

  Standing next to me as I spoke to him was the daughter of the woman who introduced my mother to St. Ignatius, her dearest friend since their attendance together at Fisk University and Meharry Nursing School. It was her reunion year too, five years after mine. Mrs. Aline Young changed my life with her love for my mother and her love for me. Christ ls love.

  Standing next to mom’s friend’s daughter was her boyfriend, my college classmate from Morehouse College and my schoolmate from Meharry Medical College. When a patient moved to Atlanta from Northwest Indiana where I was practicing medicine at the time, I sent that patient to him. The patient was as appreciative of the excellent care he gave him as he was of the care I had given him and his mother in Gary, Indiana, and the care my uncle had given them both since he had been a boy prior to my arrival to the clinic. That patient never left the “chain of custody” of diligent, quality medical care, even though he was almost 700 miles away from where he began. Jesus doesn’t leave or forsake you either.

  Our class was the first to graduate women. Three of them were there. One of them runs a personal care product business out of a house/factory that she shares with her two sisters. I heard part of her life story/odyssey from her, another part second hand. It is a story of family, and of courage, resilience, talent, and plain ol’ Irish grit. Three million Irish people either died or were displaced in the Irish Potato Famine (aka, “The Great Hunger”). St. Ignatius was founded by Fr. Arnold Damen for the expressed purpose of tending to the Irish immigrants who had settled on the West Side of Chicago in the wake of that horror. My classmate was part of that legacy. And now, with no Irish blood in my veins known to me, in some sense, so am I. In the meanwhile, the priest celebrating the earlier Mass saw the ICE trucks headed toward the Hispanic Pilsen neighborhood just south of the school to round up the dispossessed Mexican immigrants now that the Irish immigrant descendants that attended my high school used to be.

  Two of my Black classmates that I ate with after the school tour do have Irish blood, however – one with a Black father and an Irish mother; the other with a Black mother and an Irish father. Around us were other Black men, happy to see each other, proud to be Black (without saying a word about it), and glad to be alive, since our class has buried an almost equal amount of Black and White classmates, even though our class was only around 15% Black.

  Over the years, I have championed the cause of Reparations through a non-profit known as AASRT, Inc. No group of non-Blacks have been as supportive of our work than my classmates and others affiliated with St. Ignatius. Several have made donations. A Chinese classmate organized a Zoom call during the pandemic to discuss slave Reparations. A former president of the school, Fr. Brian Paulson (who was the reunion Mass celebrant) and his colleague, Fr. Timothy Kesicki, have worked tirelessly to reparate the descendants of slaves owned by the Jesuit Order at Georgetown University, raising millions of dollars for the cause. When our organization had an event, it was Fr. Kesicki who spoke. Do you see Christ woven in and weaving yet? I do.

  I gave out some medical advice. I pray it will help a classmate’s family member get lifted out of their affliction. The guy who used to flick my ear in Algebra 2/Trig, saying “Fortson’s a geek! Fortson’s a geek!” was there with his beautiful daughter, who is doing well in the financial sector. We were so happy to see each other! The hug lingered. His daughter was happy to be with her dad – you could tell. Another guy retired from a successful career in finance started doing woodwork, but some of that Jesuit/service/Christ "stuff" got soaked into his brain, and now he’s teaching special needs kids. Sunday morning, at a breakfast gathering, we started playing musical chairs in the restaurant so one of our lady classmates could sit next to another classmate to give him instructions on how somebody he knows can help their special needs child, like the son she has.

  I saw the guy who stole my watch when we were in school. I forgive him. I saw a friend who had publicly embarrassed me a few years back. I forgive him. It was good to see both of them. We are all alive. I got another watch. My self-esteem survived. I hope the guy I verbally bullied in high school forgives me for my incessant "yo' mama" jokes back in the day. He and his mother died years ago. I pray they have forgiven me - I've had to forgive myself. If you have no forgiveness and repentance to give (even for yourself), on Judgment Day you have no forgiveness coming. And you won't be forgiven by God if you never ask for it from yourself or your neighbor.

  Dinner on Sunday was at a classmate’s house. He cooked a seafood paella for his wife, his mother-in-law, and me. I was his best man at his wedding, and I wrote and sang their wedding song. They had just gotten back from their 30th wedding anniversary trip. He played a copy of the insanely funny audio tape he and I made with comic Buddy Lewis (my cousin) over our first Christmas break after our high school graduation. We talked about our kids, including my daughter, his goddaughter. He uplifted me, and the food was good, just like God is.

  Christ isn’t far away. You just have to know where to look. He is in every blessing, every joy, and every good thing right in front of you. St. Ignatius is a beautiful school. And Jesus Christ is a blessed and beautiful Savior, and a tapestry.

Thank you, Lord.