In life, was Father Junipero Serra a saint or a sinner?

There is a shared sentiment held by many that Junipero Serra contributed in direct ways to the tremendous suffering that fell upon the California tribes and the First Nation people in general throughout the 18^th and 19^th centuries. And there is no question that the history of the native peoples of California ended in one of the greatest human tragedies imaginable.

There is also a romanticized view of Father Serra that portrays him without blemish and neglects the profound impact the European empire was certain to have on the function and psyche of pre-modern culture. Awareness of such impact is part of a global awakening that has only been critically embraced over the past century.

To a great extent, myths about Serra — both supportive and critical — define his legacy. The truth of the matter lies somewhere in the middle and still struggles to find a hearing.

In terms of raw mortality, it is undisputed that all indigenous people, from coast to coast, suffered deeply from European diseases to which they had no immunity. Given the lack of knowledge of epidemiology in the early 18^th century, it is fair to assign historical responsibility for these pandemics, but more difficult to attach moral blame.

For many overlapping reasons it fell to the Catholic Church, and the mendicant orders in particular, to influence for the better how future lands would be settled by Spain. It is well-documented that as early as the 16^th century the Church began to publicly defend the cause of the people living in the Americas.

Father Bartolome de las Casas OP (1484-1566) authored a well-reasoned and impassioned argument, Defense of the Indians, to challenge the right of one people to subjugate another. In particular, as first Bishop of Chiapas, he maintained the fundamental humanity of the people inhabiting the Americas. Belief in the common humanity of every race and culture as a principle of Catholic doctrine, together with the example of St. Francis of Assisi to preach the Gospel to all creation, was the starting point for Serra’s work as a missionary.

Through modern eyes simply the desire, or presumption, to evangelize, convert and instruct indigenous cultures may be called into question. None other than Pope Benedict XVI declared that the Church no longer engages in raw proselytization, but rather grows by the power of attraction. This was Serra’s own method. In fact, failure to witness the Gospel to non-believers would have been the crime and injury against them in the mind of both Serra and St. Francis.

Faithful to the example of their founder, Francis of Assisi, the missionaries to California arrived to preach and to teach in a place the friars would have considered something near to Eden. The otherness between the Spanish and native California cultures cannot be overstated. Contact naturally occurred tentatively, cautiously, but with some real sense of wonder and possibility on both sides.

It did not happen without preparation by Serra. Far from being the cultural imperialist sometime suggested, Serra spent years in Mexico learning native dialects and absorbing cultures that would allow him to engage the population of California. To acquire a new language is necessarily to gain insight into the thinking of those who speak it and therefore to understand something of their worldview.

If most of the indigenous Californians lived in a deeply spiritualized world, so did the Franciscans who left their own world behind to rely only on providence. Their preaching clearly resonated with something preexisting in the hearer or the missions would have failed quickly. The settlements were never designed to operate through fear or impressment.

The criteria for community discipline and the expectation of obedience placed upon native catechumens and neophytes in California would most logically have been adapted from the conduct codes handed down within Spanish religious institutes of the 18^th century guiding the formation of Franciscan postulants and novices. Hierarchy was deeply ingrained and ready obedience assumed. To this day the trait of docility is asked and expected of Catholic seminarians.

Whether the application of these disciplinary concepts and methods to the missions was either wise or fruitful is doubtful. But neither can the mere presence of coercion or sanction, in itself, be construed as a sign of particular brutality on the part of Serra. The missions simply could not have been built, and were not built, under a regime of terror or cultural enmity.

As a recent candidate for sainthood, Serra can only be judged legitimately for his personal actions and intentions and not as an icon of events beyond his control or foreknowledge.

Many if not most saints are justly canonized despite themselves and their inevitable failings. That is the true and only reason they may serve as worthwhile examples. In trust we are called to offer what is best in us at the risk of exposing what is worst.

If all voices could be heard fully and fairly, the one which would object most deeply to Serra’s memorialization would be that of Junipero Serra himself. He would reject the status of sainthood as unmerited and point to the testimony of his harshest critics as clear evidence against himself.

If prior to his death he had foreseen the suffering of the native people of America he would have assigned to himself an unwarranted measure of responsibility and taken on a grave penance in accord with his character and spirituality. For his humility, and for his devoted and conflicted life, he is still more worth remembering than forgetting, and the Missions themselves remain his lasting monuments.

Rev. Russell Brown served as pastor of Old Mission San Luis Obispo from 2006 to 2018. He holds degrees in journalism, philosophy and theology.

This story was originally published July 22, 2020 at 12:55 PM.