Whistling In The Wind

By Albert McKnight

An inspiring voice of economic development and social justice for African—Americans in the post Civil Rights era. Rev. A. J. McKnight has focused on organizing a national development bank with innovative local chapters of cooperatives to promote economic progress all over the country.
His life has been a testament that real economic and social change occurs only after the "inner change," the cultural change, which comes with emphasis on spiritual growth and sharing. After reading this story you will learn what you must do to grow and how you can contribute to the quest of African—American progress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Albert McKnight
• Release date: Jul 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476367781

Book preview

The Autobiography of

The Rev. Albert J. McKnight, C.S.Sp.

Edited by Ronnie M. Moore

Copyright – July 2011

Southern Development Foundation, Inc.

Opelousas, LA

eBook formatting: Cornelius T. McQuillan, C.S.Sp.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I am thankful to Alfred McZeal, Sr., who kept records of my writings and photographs of major events in my life. This book is about the cooperative movement and pastoral ministries in the rural South. I am indebted to my longtime friends and associates who worked with me in the struggle for economic justice.

DEDICATION

I am grateful to my mother who has been a positive force, helping me to deal with the realities of life as I pursued visions of changing the face of the South. She helped me to deal with my shadow so that I can project light instead of darkness. Together with my father, she gave me the greatest gift that parents can give their children — self-esteem and a healthy self-love.

FOREWORD

My brothers, what good is it for someone to say that he has faith U his actions do not prove it? Can that faith save him? Suppose there are brothers or sisters who need clothes and don’t have enough to eat. What good is there in your saying to them, God bless you! Keep warm and eat well! — if you don’t give them the necessities of life? So it is with faith: if it is alone and includes no actions, then it is dead.

But someone will say, One person has faith, another has actions. My answer is, Show me how anyone can have faith without actions. I will show you my faith by my actions. Do you believe that there is only one God? Good! The demons also believe —— and tremble with fear. You fool! Do you want to be shown that faith without actions is useless. How was our ancestor Abraham put right with God? It was through his actions, when he offered his son Isaac on the altar. Can’t you see? His faith and his actions worked together; his faith was made perfect through his actions. And the scripture came true that Sara, Abraham believed God, and because of his faith God accepted him as righteous. And so Abraham was called God’s jriend. You see, then, that it is by his actions that a person is put right with God, and not by his faith alone.

It was the same with the prostitute Rahab. She was put right with God through her actions, by welcoming the Israelite spies and helping them to escape by a different road.

So then, as the body without the spirit is dead, also faith without actions is dead.

—·James 2: 14-26

I have been an observer, participant and consultant in the life of the Rev. A. J. McKnight since 1967. We have been mentors to one another throughout the years. I have seen the Rev. McKnight try to change old things, and make new things happen as a cooperative activist, priest, pastor, corporate executive, grantsman and community organizer of grass roots people throughout the rural South and the nation.

His theory of community change is based on cooperative economics, Afrocentricity and innovative ministry. He believes that preaching alone cannot do it. He contends that human and institutional behavior must be changed. He has dedicated nearly 40 years to community service and ministry, declaring war on institutionalized racism by organizir1g socio-economic and spiritual entities to change the ownership and control of government, churches, schools and businesses.

He holds one truth to be self-evident, that the essence of slavery hinges on two questions: Who owns? Who controls?

The Rev. McKnight has chosen African-Americans as the target population of his ministry. He urges them to own and control where they live, work, buy and worship. He preaches that Black history is world history because humankind began in Africa. He constantly calls on African-Americans to go tell it on the mountain that a Black woman was the mother of humankind.

From one small gathering of community organizers in Abbeville, Louisiana, in 1967, the Rev. McKnight has been the "vanguard in organizing more than 75 cooperatives and minority businesses in 11 Southern states over a period of 25 years.

When the Rev. McKnight introduced the symbols and artistic exhibitions of the Nguzo Saba and Afrocentricity into a local African-American Catholic parish, an elderly Black woman remarked, All my pastors have been White. Why did my first Black pastor have to be so Black?

The Rev. McKnight does not believe in gradualism. He often upsets the old with the presentation of the new. His personality is a complex combination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X. He advocates nonviolent civil disobedience, but he will consider any means necessary to set the captives free.

I beseech you to read the pages of his autobiography with an open mind in order to understand his values and emotions, to understand what makes this Black Catholic priest tick

Watch him move like a roller coaster, possessing the energy and impatience of youth coupled with the wisdom of Moses.

Study his behavior. Perceive his visions. Draw your own conclusions as to his sanity, relevancy, motivation and divine calling. His autobiography is a simple sketch — not a portrait — of an African—American priest trying to do God’s will as he perceives the will of the Master to be.

Agree or disagree with his words and deeds. Debate his philosophy and methodology. No matter what you conclude, one thing is certain: the Rev. A. J. McKnight is not a priest of apathy and procrastination; he is a man of faith and action.

—Rormie Moore

Whistling in the Wind

The Autobiography of

The Rev. Albert J. McKnight, C.S.Sp.

Part I

So then, the person who does not do the good he knows he should do is guilty of sin.

—St. James 4: 17

When I die, I hope to be still on the battlefield struggling against racism and the inequities of the capitalistic system. There's a big gap between t.hose who have and those who don’t.

When I die, I hope to be still speaking the truth as I believe Jesus taught the truth to be when He said to take care of the least ones.

When I die, I hope to be still never compromising values, following the dictates of my conscience and demanding justice — now.

People say that I enjoy confrontation and conflict. That is not true. I dread confrontation and conflict. But I believe and live by the words of Pope Paul VI: If you want Peace, work for Justice. But justice is not only equality. Justice is about paying debts, the ones that the rich owe the poor. The earth belongs to the Lord, and therefore, the basic needs of all people of society should be provided for. In my concept of God, the earth is not owned by the clique, the few.

I am a priest, but not your typical priest. Some people reject me because I do not fit the traditional mold. I believe in being my own person, true to myself. For instance, I have a beard. In 1968 I visited Israel for three weeks, and my electric razor did not work in their wattage, so I allowed my beard to grow with the intention of cutting it off after I returned to the States. However, I decided to keep it after I received such negative reactions from my parishioners and my mother. I kept it trimmed until March of I 987 when I decided not to trim it again until Black people in Opelousas, Louisiana received justice.

I wear sandals. I find them more comfortable and they cost less than shoes. I wear t—shirts. They are also comfortable. For the most part, people give them to me free.

My facial expressions are misleading. My frown is sometimes a smile, and my smile is sometimes a frown. I do not engage in things to please or displease people. I try to be real. Yet sometimes, it comes out unpolished.

Partially because of the above, I was removed by the Bishop of Lafayette as pastor of Holy Ghost Catholic Church in Opelousas, My Provincial of the Holy Ghost Fathers supported me in my struggles with the Bishop of Lafayette, disagreeing with his evaluation of my pastorate of Holy Ghost Parish. In fact, he disagreed with the Lafayette Diocese so much that he withdrew the Holy Ghost Fathers from staffing the parish which they had staffed since 1921.

I am still a member in good standing of the Roman Catholic Church and my religious order, the Congregation of the Holy Ghost. I have been asked several times to become a pastor of another church, but after my experience at Holy Ghost, I have no desire to be associated with a parish. I decided that parishes are composed of many people who consume your energy and time but have no interest in doing the inner work necessary to grow spiritually.

I simply aspire to do God’s will as I perceive His will for me to be. I guess you could say that I am stubborn like my mother, whom I lived with — just a few blocks from Holy Ghost Catholic Church. My office is a renovated garage adjacent to our home.

I swim and walk and ride my bicycle regularly. I am trying to take better care of myself because I suffered a heart attack in 1977. Fifteen years later in 1992, after experiencing more pain, I underwent laser surgery and angioplasty. I used to diligently take my 20 pills a day until the doctor took me off them after my successful laser surgery. Each year, I get a complete physical examination and a heart stress test.

As I move toward the final stretch of my life, at age 66, I have become more convinced of the wisdom of listening to my body. I have had two major arteries closed for over twelve years. In the latter part of April of 1992, after experiencing a strange tightening around the heart while swimming, I decided to have it checked out. Fortunately, I did. My doctor had me take a heart stress test which showed something was wrong. The next day I had an angiogram which showed that I had a new major blockage and was on the verge of a serious heart attack. The following day l had the laser and angioplasty surgery which opened the three arteries which had been blocked.

After spending only two days in the hospital and two days resting at home, I was ready to get back on the road. If this had happened to me five years ago, I would have had to have triple bypass open heart surgery, spent two weeks in the hospital and several months recuperating.

Yes, I listen to the body. Venerable Francis Paul Libermann, one of the founders of the Holy Ghost Fathers, taught us that the first requirement to be a missionary is to be alive.

I am a priest. I hope to die a priest of the Roman Catholic Church or the proposed African American Catholic Rite in union with Rome if I live that long.

BACKGROUND AND FAMILY

I want to take you on a journey back in time with me. From layman to priest, from the East Coast to the South, from Negro to Black to African—American, and intertwined.

I was reared in New York, rotating my growing years between Brooklyn, my birthplace, and Harlem. I have one brother and two sisters. I am close to my brother, Donald. In certain ways, he shares the same values that I share. But when it comes to issues, we once differed in politics. He believed Ronald Reagan was the best thing for this country when he first ran for the presidency.

My sister, Colleen, is a year and a half younger than I. Yet our interests and values are different. For instance, I remember she always spent her allowance immediately. But at the end of the week, I still had mine. When it comes to consumption, we differ. I am more thrifty.

Yet, Colleen and I shared a bond of mischief as children. My mother loved to tell the story about the summer we spent in Philadelphia with my aunt when I lifted my sister and told her to pull the fire alarm. Then we stood on the porch and watched as the fire engines rolled down the street to answer the false alarm. It wasn’t until years later that my sister told my mother and aunt what we had done.

Brenda, my other sister, was only four years old when I left for the seminary. I always felt protective of her. I remember once when I was home on vacation from the seminary, I made a great fuss about Brenda leaving to go to a dance so late one evening when I thought she should be returning.

I remember always being the responsible one during my childhood. Once when my mother went away for three weeks to visit my father, who was in the Navy, I was in charge of the money, cooking, paying the bills, and things like that.

I do not recall any hard times while I was growing up. We never missed a meal or lacked the necessities of life. Even during the depression, my father always found work. And when he died, my mother started sewing. She never had to go out for work; several businesses simply brought things to her at our home.

My father was my role model. He had only a third or fourth grade education, but he was always taking some course to improve himself. It was not until my last year of study and the last year of his life that I became very close to him. He and my mother were always there for me. During my seminary days, they came to visit me once a month. When there was ice and snow, it took four hours instead of two hours for them to arrive. Despite inclement weather, they always came; that always impressed me.

Yet it wasn’t until after my father’s death that I realized the impact that he had had on my life and on our family. We often take people