Rev. Samuel Davis

Rev. Samuel Davis is the rector of St. Simon the Cyrene Orthodox Mission in New Brunswick, N.J.

There is a disconnect between how we say the Orthodox Church has strong African roots and how we demonstrate that.

Could you say a little about your background and your family?

My wife, Julitssa, and I have four children—two boys and two girls. My oldest is 16; my youngest is 4. Julitssa is a manager of a medical spa in New York City. My parents, who are from Panama, immigrated to the United States before I was born. I attended the University of Valley Forge in Pennsylvania. After college, I worked in corporate America for a few years before I decided to join the military. My father is a veteran of the U.S. Army and I am a veteran of the Air Force.

Where did you serve?

I served on a Naval base in Iceland. I was part of the military police on the base—in the Air Force, they’re called security police. I learned about Orthodoxy for the first time when I was in the military.

So your family is originally from Panama? What is that story?

My great-grandparents were originally from Colombia and then later moved to Panama —although Panama was part of Colombia until 1903. My parents later moved from Panama to the U.S. Through a little research on ancestry.com, I learned that one of my great-grandparents was a Sephardic Jew. I grew up hearing my parents speak Spanish. Both my wife and I speak Spanish, but we don’t speak it much in the home.

Do you consider yourself Black, given that your family came from Latin America?

Technically, I consider myself Afro-Latino, but let’s be honest, that’s still Black. I’m Black, but I’m not technically Black American. My wife is also AfroLatino, and her family is from Panama, too. There are certain things in common across various kinds of Black people, but there are still a lot of differences, and it is hard to generalize. Because of my background, it

has been easier for me to connect with Black people from Latin America. Having a common language helps forge a common bond.

Seeing as there are so few African Americans in the Orthodox Church, did you feel like an outsider when you first started attending? Like you didn't belong?

I had a very unique experience when we started out. We first encountered Orthodoxy in the Coptic Church. You would think that because Copts are African, even though they are not Black, I would not have had some of the negative experiences I had. One time I had a Coptic man ask me why I was visiting this Coptic church since I was Black.

I was ready to leave the Coptic Church, partly because I realized that the outreach efforts towards the Black community weren’t going well and weren’t going to get better. They had a hard time getting past their Coptic identity, and it kept getting in the way of their mission efforts. For example, on many occasions, the clergy insisted on singing hymns in the Coptic language, despite being in a mission where no one spoke or understood Coptic. The mission wasn’t even aimed at Coptic people in the first place. I eventually met Father Jonathan Ivanoff the rector of St. John the Theologian Church, in Babylon, New York—who introduced me to the OCA and our diocese. From there, the transition was smooth and felt very natural.

I didn’t have too much of a problem adjusting culturally to the Orthodox Church, because I came from an immigrant family and was used to moving between different cultures and languages. Neither did my family. Growing up Afro-Latino also meant that I grew up in a culture inundated by Roman Catholicism. I had a traditional Christian background that wasn’t “low church” and didn’t have the anti-liturgical sentiments found in many Protestant traditions. That made it easier to become Orthodox, and probably makes it easier for AfroLatinos generally to become Orthodox than those from Protestant backgrounds.

The hurdles for many Black people are what most of us would think of as small things, not big doctrinal issues. Like, “OK, you say there are many African saints in the Orthodox Church, but how come I don’t see any Black saints on your walls? Why do all of your icons depict light-skinned people?” I’ve had many conversations with Black pastors and Black laypeople to this effect. So there is a disconnect between how we say the Orthodox Church has strong African roots and how we demonstrate that.

It is a big deal to see saints who look like you and your people. For Blacks and Latinos, it is powerful to see iconography of African saints. It makes us feel like there is a place for us in the life of the Church.

What was the most welcoming encounter you had when you first started attending an Orthodox church?

I will never forget this. Just as much as I had negative experiences, I had positive ones in equal measure. I remember seeing the fervency in people’s faces when they were taking communion. I was very moved by it. I was standing there with tears in my eyes, and a man came up to me, having noticed that I was moved. He said to me, “Welcome home. This is just as much your Church as it is my Church.” Then he gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

One negative experience I had was when someone in church asked me, “Why are Black people so lazy?” I really had to calm myself down inside. But I tried to explain where that stereotype came from and how it is inaccurate.

Two years ago, at the same time you were ordained, you took over the leadership of the St. Simon of Cyrene Mission in New Brunswick, New Jersey—which is in our Diocese. Tell us a little about your experience there.

We have made a point at St. Simon’s to display iconography of people who look like the minorities in our community. Demographically, New Brunswick is one-third white, one-third Black, and onethird Latino. We need to be prepared to welcome and share the Gospel with any and all visitors from our community. Something as simple as having the right kinds of icons, or chanting some of the service in Spanish—which we also do at St. Simon’s, goes a long way in communicating to inquirers that the Gospel is for them, and that the Orthodox Church cares about them and has a place for them, too. My vision is not chiefly to create a parish for Black people, but rather to reach out to urban communities that are neglected by the Church, which are largely composed of Black and Latino peoples.

What do your friends and family think about you being Orthodox?

I think there are mixed reviews. There are some who think I am absolutely crazy. Some people thought Julitssa and I had joined a cult. And there are some who, to this day, refuse to talk to me about it. For my parents, it was a big problem at first. My dad and I used to meet every week and discuss the Bible and our faith. When I became Orthodox, that stopped for a long time. But now he is attending church with me almost every Sunday.

What could the average parishioner do to be welcoming to a Black inquirer? Any practical advice? And how might that be different than other minorities?

I would suggest not bringing up any hot-button topics to them! Like questions about police brutality, for example. I also wouldn’t assume that Black people are monolithic. Don’t assume too much. Also, don’t pander and say things that you think they’ll agree with like, “Just so you know, I support Black Lives Matter, and I’m with you, man.” Just be welcoming and treat them like people. Show them respect. Show them kindness. Learn about their families. Learn the stories of their lives. And share the Gospel with them. There’s only one Gospel. There’s not one for Black people and another one for other people.

What is one thing you wish other Americans understood better about the Black experience and culture?

History. I wish there weren’t so much propaganda and misinformation that passes for history— as with the aforementioned Orthodox layperson who asked me why Black people were lazy. That myth came from propaganda pushed by certain Southerners after Reconstruction. “Black people weren’t lazy when they were working for free, but now that they are working for themselves, they are lazy.” I wish Americans did their homework better.

Have you ever experienced racism firsthand? Can you share a particular experience?

Well, growing up in Somerset County, New Jersey, I was in a bubble, so to speak. There were race riots in the area between 1979 and 1981. Those riots really changed the culture of that area, and afterward, the people were committed to not tolerating racism in that community or repeating mistakes from their past.

So I didn’t experience any racism until leaving home from college. Once, my girlfriend and I were in a parking lot, speaking together. I told her she should drive her car ahead of me. She said, “Why?” And I said, “Because that cop over there has been staring at me for a really long time.” My girlfriend had blond hair and blue eyes, and I was the only Black guy in that town. Almost immediately after I drove away, the cop pulled me over. Now, the car was not mine; I was borrowing it from a friend. When I explained this to the police officer, he did not believe me. He held me on the side of the road while he called my college friend’s parents. The parents called my friend and relayed to the officer that he indeed did lend the car to me.

Once the cop learned the truth, he gave the keys back to me. He didn’t even apologize. No “goodnight,” or “goodbye,” or anything. He just walked away in silence and wouldn’t look me in the eye. When I got back to campus, I returned the keys to my friend, who was white, and he was crying and was so sorry for me and disturbed by how I was treated. It probably should have been the one crying, but I was oddly calm about the whole incident.

What do you think African Americans can bring to Orthodoxy? How would their increased presence leave a positive mark on the life of our parishes?

I think the most important thing they could bring is a renewed sense of zeal and passion for the spiritual life. They have also experienced great oppression, like Russians did under Soviet communism and Greeks under the Turks. That experience has left a positive mark on them as a people. They are stronger and more resilient because of that suffering. They would strengthen our Church with their hard-earned resilience.

Interview by Rev. Matthew Brown