Sister Helen Prejean
Random House, 320 pages
Reviewed by Roy Howard with Candy Markman and Terry Horgan
One of the most remarkable gifts in my life is to know Sister Helen Prejean. Several years ago, she came to our congregation in Lexington, Kentucky, to speak about her deep call to oppose the death penalty. Her compassion was so obvious, along with her fierce commitment to do what is merciful and just, that we were riveted to her words, and more importantly to her calling for us to be disciples of Jesus. As a consequence of that visit, a prison ministry was formed at the largest federal prison for women. Later, we joined together in Maryland as she lent her voice to the (successful) efforts to end capital punishment. Through Prejean I received another remarkable gift: becoming friends with an amazing, eclectic and ecumenical company of those working with her for the abolition of the death penalty, eradication of poverty and a more just criminal justice system. Terry Horgan and Candy Markman, who have co-written this review with me, are among them.
Prejean’s new memoir, “River of Fire,” ends in 1980 with the first paragraph of “Dead Man Walking,” the book that turned her into a living saint for those who oppose the death penalty. “Dead Man Walking” became a best-seller, then a movie starring Susan Sarandon and Sean Penn, and even an opera with a libretto by Terrence McNally. In “River of Fire” she looks back, clear-eyed about her thoughts, prejudices and motives, as she presents her upbringing in white middle-class Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and her first few decades among the Congregation of St Joseph.
Her memories of life in the novitiate and convent ring true. (Terry is from an Irish Catholic family of that era, with both ordained and religious relatives.) “I had to break out of two cocoons. One was the spiritual one that by praying you helped the world be a better place. And the other was white privilege because I was taken care of in every way,” Prejean says. And break out she does, in a spiritual explosion, after hearing the message that Jesus’ good news to the poor is that they should be poor no longer. “Translated: There’s no authentic following of Christ if I don’t work for justice.” Within months she was living and working in New Orleans housing projects, tackling criminal justice and human rights issues that lead her to death row.
For those who didn’t live through that era, “River of Fire” is an accessible, down-to-earth primer on the American Catholic Church and the experience of its adherents during the 20th century, both before and after the Second Vatican Council. Often what we know of Vatican II
comes from church leaders, the ordained and theologians, male and largely American or European. Prejean candidly offers perspectives of unordained, female religious and lay people, struggling to be “good Catholics” during a period of faith-shattering change, when guidance was often delivered with a tin ear to the needs and demands of daily life.
Descriptions of the forces for and against Vatican II’s vision of transformation also provide insights into the powerful tensions continuing within the church in the Pope Francis era. Such are the meaty takeaways from “River of Fire,” but reading it feels like sitting on any front porch in the South, where storytelling is an essential art form. Prejean is a consummate storyteller, witty, warm-hearted, brimming with nuggets of gossip and insight from well-honed powers of observation. The memoir ends abruptly, except for a brief afterword, and one yearns to hear her reflections on her life since 1993.
Roy Howard is the pastor of Saint Mark Presbyterian Church in North Bethesda, Maryland, and the book editor of the Presbyterian Outlook.
Candy Markman led Tennesseans Against the Death Penalty and was a board member of Amnesty International during the “Dead Man Walking”era. Terry Horgan led Dismas communities and shepherded prison ministry for the Catholic Diocese of Nashville. They both live in Washington, D.C.
