Last week, Sheriff Bobby Guidroz said it in no uncertain terms: whoever is responsible for the spate of church fires in St. Landry Parish, Louisiana, will be identified, arrested and brought to trial. “I said that on public television, and I meant that,” Guidroz said. “You do not burn churches anywhere. You certainly do not do that here.” In modern America, there are some places where people view the depths of others’ religious devotion with skepticism and speak about it in sarcastic terms. But there are many others where people are appalled by the absence of religious fervor in some communities and skeptical that a home can function well without it. St. Landry Parish, Louisiana's equivalent of a county, is home to about 83,000 people who, for the most part, fall into the second category. That fervor has extra meaning now, after three predominantly black churches were set ablaze, and in some cases destroyed, in the span of less than two weeks. The cause of the fires and the specific motivations of anyone who may have set them have not yet been released. But the magnitude of the loss and the reasons black churches may have been a target are much more clear. “Our church was formed 145 years ago and withstood every kind of storm you can imagine,” said Earnest Hines, 66, a deacon at Mount Pleasant Baptist Church, just outside Opelousas, Louisiana, the third and most recent of the institutions to burn. “But to my knowledge, this church has never been through anything like this. Nothing anywhere close to this.” Black churches have always represented spaces within a racially unequal society that were black-owned, black-operated and black-controlled, said Anthony Pinn, a theologian and professor of humanities at Rice University, who studies religion and culture. Because of that, the spaces black churches create can be used to meet community needs, with or without the sanction of others. Firefighters and fire investigators respond to a fire at Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church in Opelousas, Louisiana, on April 4, 2019. Leslie Westbrook / The Advocate via AP The church staff members are paid by black people and therefore attuned to their interests and experiences. That means black church pastors are often in the rare social and economic position to speak publicly about controversial matters and turn black churches into gathering spaces and rallying points for those engaged in various forms of protest and social change. “Whether what is going on inside them is truly revolutionary or that is only imagined or assumed,” said Pinn, who wrote the books, “Why Lord” and “The Black Church in the Post Civil Rights Era." “Whether they are offering a theology of liberation, redemption and uplift or the most homophobic and regressive ideas you can imagine,” Pinn said, "their very existence, on some level, is a strike against white supremacy. That is what they represent in American life. So, attacking black churches became and has always functioned as a way to attack black independence, an effort to reassert white dominance and control the status quo.” Mount Pleasant, a church with about 150 official members and 60 to 70 people in its pews most Sundays, once served as a school for black children. Today, its doors open mostly for choir rehearsals and church services. But it remains a gathering place in a rural community, a valued space in a sparsely populated but expansive parish. “The fires, they are pretty much all anybody in the parish is talking about,” said Hines, who shares the sheriff’s confidence that the culprits will be identified. “We don’t know what yet but we do know something is surely going on.” There are many theories about the culprits and their motives, Hines said. After the second fire at Greater Union Baptist Church, Hines was sure that someone was targeting black churches. It was just too big a coincidence after St. Mary Baptist Church, another black church in the same parish, burned the previous week. Hines was so sure someone was after the parish’s black churches that he wondered if Mount Pleasant should install security cameras. The thought occurred to him Tuesday. By Thursday morning, he was standing near Mount Pleasant watching firefighters work to douse the blaze. While there’s nothing going on in St. Landry that, to Hines, immediately explains what seems like a targeted campaign to destroy black churches, there are broader trends that do, he said. “The climate in our nation now, it’s just where things like this are not surprising,” Hines said. “You look at what’s happening at the border, what happened with the young klansmen [the alt-right in Charlottesville, Virginia], bashing women and children, running one young lady over and you know it’s a very bad racial climate.” Guidroz has put his 55-person patrol team on mandatory overtime. That’s necessary to cover the parish’s 960 square miles of roadway. The department is trying to monitor the area’s many churches while local, state and federal investigators investigate, Guidroz said. For Pinn, the burned churches brought to mind the nation’s history of destructive force and attempted control directed at black churches. “There is a long history of attack on these institutions,” Pinn said, “because of what they represent. We tend to think of churches and religious spaces as somewhat protected. But these burnings, they do tend to send a different message, whether it’s a burning or someone walking in with a gun. That message is, blackness isn’t safe, anywhere.” After the Civil War, federal troops occupied portions of the South enforcing mandates that granted black Americans full citizenship and black men the right to vote. Black Americans bought and sold property, married, scrambled for basic literacy skills and formal education, all forbidden by law in most states during slavery. Churches that had in some cases formed in secret became public and physical institutions. The nation’s new multiracial electorate — a group that in some Southern states was majority black — installed black state and federal lawmakers who, before the Civil War, were widely regarded as imbeciles and animals.<doc-sep>Heartbreaking and tragic, black church fires in Louisiana ignite decency and good Flames and smoke rise as the spire of the cathedral of Notre Dame collapses Monday in Paris. Donations to restore the centuries-old architectural treasure are nearing $1 billion, but the catastrophe also has inspired $1 million in donations for three black churches burned in Louisiana. Associated Press Firefighters and fire investigators respond to a fire at Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church, in Opelousas, Louisiana, on April 4. Monday, officials charged a man with the arson of this church and two others. Donations to rebuild have been pouring in. Leslie Westbrook/The Advocate via Associate Press Seeing the iconic church on fire was stunning. After firefighters extinguished the inferno, the heartbreaking scenes of the charred church, which had been a beloved home for generations of her family, were almost too much for Monica Harris. "Seeing the church in the condition it is now," the 57-year-old Christian said for a story in The New York Times, "it's almost like losing a family member." That loss, and the beauty destroyed by that blaze, hadn't even had time to register before a man of the cloth added some perspective. "They burned down a building. They didn't burn down our spirit," he said. The gofundme rebuilding fund for three overwhelmingly black churches burned in Louisiana in the past month had topped out under $100,000 until Monday's fire at the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris reignited the cause. None of those structures was on a par with the world-famous, centuries-old, magnificent cathedral of Notre Dame, but black churches matter. As of Wednesday, online donations for the three black churches were nearing the $1.8 million goal. Donations for Notre- ame are expected to top $1 billion. "As we hold Paris in our thoughts today, let's also send some love to our neighbors in Louisiana," Hillary Clinton tweeted Tuesday. Journalist Yashar Ali and CNN anchor Jake Tapper posted similar tweets asking people to remember those black churches, too. As the world watched the flames consuming the iconic spire of the cathedral of Notre Dame, people used words such as heartbreaking and tragic to describe the damage to the centuries-old architectural wonder, which is a monument to Christianity. But one of the first online comments I read came from a suburban Catholic priest, who noted, "This is really, tragically sad. But God is NOT confined to even beautiful and ancient structures." He went on to explain how asylum-seekers and other people suffering hardships deserve that same outpouring of empathy and assistance. Easter celebrates the belief that Jesus Christ was crucified and rose from the dead, the keystone of the Christian faith. But it also offers a more universal message that bad things can get better. Easter signals hope and a new start. On the same day Notre Dame was burning, every Major League Baseball player, coach and umpire wore a number 42 jersey to honor Jackie Robinson, the first black player allowed to play in the majors. It is heartbreaking and tragically sad that there was a time when black players were banned from the National Pastime, but in honoring Robinson, we celebrate how the world can change for the better. At the same time, we can continue to find it heartbreaking and tragically sad that the MLB now is investigating racist messages sent to Carl Edwards Jr., a relief pitcher for the Chicago Cubs who got off to a bad start this season and happens to be black. Clearly, today's world gives us plenty of opportunities to right wrongs and make bad things better. Louisiana officials on Monday charged a 21-year-old white man with arson and hate crimes in connection with the fires set at the Greater Union Baptist Church and Mount Pleasant Baptist Church in Opelousas, Louisiana, as well as the St. Mary Baptist Church in nearby Port Barre. Every cowardly and hateful act can inspire a commitment to decency and good in others. Not only can we take some comfort in the fact nobody died in any of these tragic church fires, we can also find something good in the response of ordinary people.<doc-sep>On March 26, St. Mary Baptist, a historically black church in St. Landry Parish, Louisiana, was set alight. One week later, so was Greater Union Baptist, another black church in St. Landry. After the latter incident, Earnest Hines, a deacon at a third black church in the area, Mount Pleasant Baptist, wondered if it would be wise to install security cameras: the successive fires surely couldn’t be a coincidence, he told NBC. Two days later, Hines watched as Mount Pleasant, too, burned. The three fires (and a fourth, at a predominantly white church in a different parish) have attracted national media coverage in the past few days. Much of it has been cautious—a reflection, it would seem, of views on the ground. Local officials have invoked “suspicious elements” in the fires and acknowledge they are “no coincidence,” but have not yet said who started them, or why. Establishing those facts may take time: key evidence has likely burned. In their absence, community leaders are circumspect. “I can’t say for one reason or another that the actual burning was a racist act or a hate crime until we can determine who caused them,” Freddie Jack, president of a local Baptist association, told CNN’s Don Lemon on Monday. “We need the facts.” ICYMI: You may hate metrics. But they’re making journalism better. To this point, at least, the story has felt undercovered—but so do lots of stories, especially those emanating from underserved communities and areas. It’s more useful, perhaps, to say this story has felt atomized. With some exceptions—like Whoopi Goldberg’s monologue, yesterday, on The View—individual reports, while factually informative, have not added up to the broader conversation they beg us to have: a conversation about hate. The lack of hard conclusions is one reason for this; another, perhaps, is that nobody has been killed or physically hurt. But racists have burned black churches so many times in our history that we can surely center the Louisiana fires’ historical parallels and symbolism, without having to wait for definitive proof of motive. Why must hate have a body count for us to prioritize it? America did have a conversation on hate yesterday: in Washington, where the House Judiciary Committee addressed the rise in hate crimes and white nationalism, and the role of big tech companies in enabling it. The hearing—which came less than a month after a white-nationalist terrorist livestreamed a killing spree at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand—was an opportunity for answers and accountability, but was hijacked; it became “a triumph of alternative fact,” as Yahoo’s Alexander Nazaryan put it. Republican lawmakers invited Mort Klein, president of the Zionist Organization of America, and Candace Owens, of the right-wing group Turning Point USA, to testify. Klein called the Christchurch shooter a “left-wing” terrorist; Owens sparred with Democratic Representative Ted Lieu over her previous comment that Hitler wanted to “make Germany great,” and called the “Southern strategy”—the idea that Republicans played on racial fears to win Southern votes in the 1960s and ‘70s—a “myth.” Outside the room, YouTube disabled comments on its livestream of the hearing because they were filled with hate speech. Many articles about the hearing painted it, accurately, as an embarrassing, off-the-rails mess. Of those I read, however, only Nazaryan’s, for Yahoo, mentioned the Louisiana church burnings. Journalists didn’t give Owens a platform to spin the history of US racism yesterday; Republicans in Congress did that. But amplifying her history—over and above the history that’s on vivid display in Louisiana right now—cedes control of the narrative to those who would distort it. Sign up for CJR 's daily email In a rich report for NBC News—headlined “‘Blackness isn’t safe, anywhere’: How the church burnings in Louisiana send a dangerous message”—Janell Ross offered the context so much coverage has been lacking. “The cause of the fires and the specific motivations of anyone who may have set them have not yet been released,” she wrote. “But the magnitude of the loss and the reasons black churches may have been a target are much more clear.” Let’s root the conversation on hate in that. Below, more on Louisiana, Congress, and hate: “Domestic terrorism”: On Monday, the NAACP broke with the cautious tone that has characterized much discussion of the church fires. In a statement, Derrick Johnson, its president and CEO, called the fires “domestic terrorism.” He wrote: “We must not turn a blind eye to any incident where people are targeted because of the color of their skin or their faith. The spike in church burnings in Southern states is a reflection of the emboldened racial rhetoric and tension spreading across the country.” On Monday, the NAACP broke with the cautious tone that has characterized much discussion of the church fires. In a statement, Derrick Johnson, its president and CEO, called the fires “domestic terrorism.” He wrote: “We must not turn a blind eye to any incident where people are targeted because of the color of their skin or their faith. The spike in church burnings in Southern states is a reflection of the emboldened racial rhetoric and tension spreading across the country.” Ugly echoes: For the local Advocate newspaper, Claire Taylor writes that the fires in St. Landry Parish recall simultaneous fires that burned three black churches in the nearby Baton Rouge area in 1996. Back then, Taylor reports, it took the authorities six months of investigations to conclude that a hate crime had been committed. For the local Advocate newspaper, Claire Taylor writes that the fires in St. Landry Parish recall simultaneous fires that burned three black churches in the nearby Baton Rouge area in 1996. Back then, Taylor reports, it took the authorities six months of investigations to conclude that a hate crime had been committed. A win for the haters: For Wired, Issie Lapowsky has a good writethrough of yesterday’s hijacked House hearing on hate. “The hearing succeeded in doing just one thing… pitting minority groups against each other,” she writes. “The haters, in other words, got their way—and the tech giants that have allowed those hatemongers to fester and find each other got off scot free.”<doc-sep>OPELOUSAS, La. -- The suspect in a string of fires that destroyed three black churches in rural Louisiana is the white son of a sheriff's deputy whose father helped arrange for his son's arrest, authorities said Thursday.Holden Matthews, 21, faces arson charges in the connection with the blazes in and around Opelousas, a city of 16,000 where the flame-gutted remains of the buildings evoked memories of civil rights era violence.Louisiana Fire Marshall Butch Browning offered no motive for the fires. He and other officials stopped short of calling them hate crimes. Eric Rommal, the agent in charge of the New Orleans FBI office, said investigators were still looking into whether the fires were "bias motivated. "Browning said there were no indications that anyone else was involved and the danger to churches was over. "This community is safe again," Browning said at a news conference. "We are extremely, unequivocally confident that we have the person who is responsible for these tragic crimes. "The Rev. Harry Richard, pastor of Greater Union Baptist Church, which was destroyed, said the arrest put him at ease and let him sleep at night. "I felt relieved my congregation didn't have to worry anymore," said Richard, who was told of the arrest late Wednesday. "I was reassured that law enforcement was on our side, that things were finally coming to an end. "Investigators used surveillance video, cellphone tracking and a Wal-Mart receipt to help identify Matthews, who was arrested late Wednesday.A red gas can recovered at one of the churches was sold at Wal-Mart locations, and the company's investigators found that the same type of gas can, automotive cloths and a lighter were bought March 25 at a store in Opelousas. The debit card used in that purchase belonged to Matthews, according to court documents. "The purchase time on this receipt is less than three hours before the first church fire was reported," an affidavit said.In addition, cellphone tower data showed Matthews was in the area of all three fires. And surveillance video from businesses and homes near the churches and on the roads to and from each fire scene repeatedly showed a "light colored extended-cab truck" that was consistent with the beige pickup that belonged to Matthews' father. Matthews apparently drove the truck to buy the gas can and other items, according to the court documents.St. Landry Parish Sheriff Bobby Guidroz confirmed that the suspect was the son of deputy Roy Matthews, whom he described as an excellent employee who knew nothing of his son's actions.The elder Matthews was heartbroken when told his son was a suspect, the sheriff said. "He broke down," Guidroz said. "It was hard." He said the father arranged for the son to leave the house and go to a place where he could be arrested without incident. He did not elaborate.The younger Matthews was arrested on three counts of simple arson of a religious building. A conviction could bring up to 15 years in prison on each count, Browning said.Gov. John Bel Edwards said the fires were "especially painful" because they were a reminder "of a very dark past of intimidation and fear. ""This is a reflection of one depraved individual," he added. "It is not a reflection on the state of Louisiana. "Each church catered to an African American congregation in a rural setting, and each was rendered a charred disaster scene as a result of intense flames.The fires set many people on edge in and around Opelousas, about 140 miles northwest of New Orleans. "It's not a super tiny city," Brent Swann, a white, 24-year-old employee at a car rental agency said hours before the arrest. "But it's small enough to where a lot of people know each other, a lot of people go to these same churches together. "Matthews had shown interest in "black metal," an extreme subgenre of heavy metal linked, in some instances, to fires at Christian churches in Norway in the 1990s, Browning said.A Facebook page that appeared to belong to Matthews showed him with the words "black metal" spray painted on a wall behind him. He also posted a comment on a movie's portrayal of black metal musician Varg Vikernes, a far-right figure convicted of manslaughter and arson at three churches.Black metal lyrics often espouse satanism and paganism, and a few bands feature neo-Nazi beliefs.The fires happened over a 10-day period. The first blaze torched the St. Mary Baptist Church on March 26 in Port Barre, a town just outside of Opelousas. Days later, the Greater Union Baptist Church and Mount Pleasant Baptist Church in Opelousas were burned. Each was more than 100 years old.The churches were empty at the time, and no one was injured. Investigators with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives were still combing the scene at Mount Pleasant and warning onlookers away on Wednesday, a week after the fire.At Greater Union, which burned April 2, the flames caused exterior walls of brick and wood to collapse on rows of metal folding chairs. All that was left of an upright piano was the lattice work of steel strings. "At this point, we're trying to head toward normal," Richard said Thursday. "Get back to where we were, if possible."<doc-sep>
Officials are still struggling to find any links or leads between three black churches that burned in one week in the same Louisiana Parish. In a south Louisiana parish, three predominantly black churches have burned in just a week and a half. The first fire occurred on March 26 in St. Landry Parish, a rural community north of Lafayette. The succeeding fires happened on April 2 and April 4. Another fire that officials called a “small blaze” happened on March 31 in Caddo Parish at the Vivian United Pentecostal Church, a primarily white church about three hours north. Officials say the blaze was intentionally set. Although no injuries or deaths have been reported, the fires caused considerable damage to the St. Mary Baptist Church in Port Barre, as well as Mount Pleasant Baptist Church and the Greater Union Baptist Church in Opelousas. Investigation Underway to See Whether Fires Are Related According to officials, there have been “suspicious elements” in each case. The possibilities of arson and relation among the fires have not been ruled out. Louisiana Fire Marshal H. Browning said in a statement, “There is clearly something happening in this community. That is why it is imperative that the citizens of this community be part of our effort to figure out what it is.” The Rev. Gerald Toussaint, pastor at Mount Pleasant Baptist Church in Opelousas, said that the relationship between the black and white residents of St. Landry Parish is “generally good.” The population in the rural parish is 41 percent black and 56 percent white. “I’m trying to find out who did it, why they did it, did it have anything to do with me,” said Toussaint in a statement. “I don’t know none of this.” Aware of the recent fires at Greater Union Baptist Church and St. Mary Baptist Church, Toussaint did not wish to speculate, fearing that doing so might provoke copycat crimes or anger possible arsonists. “There certainly is a commonality, and whether that leads to a person or persons or groups, we just don’t know,” Browning said in a news conference. Black Churches Have Been Targets for Attacks Since the Civil Rights Era African-American churches have been targeted for arson, armed assault and even bombing since the 1950s. The New York Times reported on violence at churches in recent years which included the burning of Cypress Grove Baptist Church, St. Paul’s Free Baptist Church, and Thomas Chapel Benevolent Society, all predominantly black churches in East Baton Rouge, Louisiana. All three were burned on the same day. In 2006, nine churches in Alabama – some were primarily black, and others were primarily white – were burned by three college students. The arsons began as a joke, and soon got out of control, according to officials. In 2015, nine people attending a Bible study at a black church in Charleston, South Carolina, were shot and killed by a white supremacist. Just last month, a black member of Hopewell Missionary Baptist Church in Greenville, Miss., pleaded guilty to burning his church in 2016. According to the New York Times report, the words “Vote Trump” had been spray-painted on the church to make the crime appear to be politically motivated. Law Enforcement Will Do ‘Whatever It Takes’ to Prevent Other Churches from Burning Sheriff Bobby Guidroz of St. Landry Parish said at a news conference on April 4 that police officers would do “whatever it takes” to keep both churches and churchgoers safe from harm. “We’re doing everything we can, collectively, to solve this crime,” Guidroz said at the conference. Florence Milburn, a member of the Greater Union Baptist Church, said that plans for rebuilding are already in progress, and until the church is rebuilt, members will gather in a loaned building for worship. “Why they did it, what motive, we’re at a loss. So whether or not we are told who did it, or why they did it, it doesn’t bring our church back, and all the memories that we had. It’s like losing a family member, or losing a family home,” Milburn told NPR. “We have to rebuild God’s church.”