"How should the Catholic Church remember the sins of its saints? This question proves particularly urgent in the case of those saints who were canonized due to their relation to black slavery. Today, many of their racial virtues seem like racial vices. This book proposes black fugitivity, as both a historical practice and an interpretive principle, to be a strategy by which the church can build new hagiographical habits. Rather than searching inside itself for racial heroes, the church should learn to celebrate those black fugitives who sought refuge outside of it."--Back cover.

How should the Catholic church remember the sins of its saints? This question proves particularly urgent in the case of those saints who were canonized due to their relation to black slavery. Today, many of their racial virtues seem like racial vices. In this way, the church celebrates Peter Claver, a seventeenth-century Spanish missionary to Colombia, as “the saint of the slave trade,” and extols Martín de Porres as the patron saint of mixed race people. But in truth, their sainthoods have upheld anti-blackness much more than they have undermined it. Habituated by anti-blackness, the church has struggled to perceive racial holiness accurately. In the ongoing cause to canonize Pierre Toussaint, a Haitian-born former slave, the church continues to enact these bad racial habits. This book proposes black fugitivity, as both a historical practice and an interpretive principle, to be a strategy by which the church can build new hagiographical habits. Rather than searching inside itself for racial heroes, the church should learn to celebrate those black fugitives who sought refuge outside of it.

In the US, Black children are twice as likely as white children to be removed from their parents and adopted out to strangers. The Ethics of Protection responds to this dire reality with a liberationist approach to child welfare ethics. This book reframes child welfare by centering the stories, challenges, failures, and victories of Black families.

What drove U.S. Catholics in their arduous quest, full of twists and turns over more than a century, to win an American saint? The absence of American names in the canon of the saints had left many of the faithful feeling spiritually unmoored. But while canonization may be fundamentally about holiness, it is never only about holiness, reveals Kathleen Sprows Cummings in this panoramic, passionate chronicle of American sanctity. Catholics had another reason for petitioning the Vatican to acknowledge an American holy hero. A home-grown saint would serve as a mediator between heaven and earth, yes, but also between Catholicism and American culture. Throughout much of U.S. history, the making of a saint was also about the ways in which the members of a minority religious group defined, defended, and celebrated their identities as Americans. Their fascinatingly diverse causes for canonization—from Kateri Tekakwitha and Elizabeth Ann Seton to many others that are failed, forgotten, or still under way—represented evolving national values as Catholics made themselves at home. Cummings's vision of American sanctity shows just how much Catholics had at stake in cultivating devotion to men and women perched at the nexus of holiness and American history—until they finally felt little need to prove that they belonged.

The history of Christianity includes many doctrines adopted (and actions taken) to meet immediate problems but which had unintended consequences; they are bad fruit (Matt 7:15–20). The oldest is antisemitism, which arose from the competition of the early church with early Judaism. It was built into the New Testament and was developed by the church fathers. Having learned to dehumanize, it was easy to apply the same techniques to other groups; the church became complicit with enslavement, misogyny, and other forms of oppression. One response to the bad fruit is to reject religion, in the manner of Christopher Hitchens. However, the dogmas are part of our culture even if in secular form. If the roots of marginalization are not understood, they cannot be eliminated. This work uses a range of critics and defenders of traditional Western Christianity to identify poisonous fruits and detoxify them. The critical voices do not create a consensus. Nevertheless, a core can be perceived, what Erasmus called the “few truths.” Grounded in the religious tradition, they can be shared with secular people as a basis for an ethical, merciful, and respectful society. Although the history of Christianity is bloody, there are ways to go forward.