"We could do with any good publicity we get." That was the parting shot from a local priest who rang The Sligo Champion last week to alert us about a good news story involving another priest, in California.

These days, with evil wrongdoing by many clergy having overshadowed the quiet good of most, it's the sort of story that's often overlooked.

The story concerns Fr. Peter Banks who was featured last month on the front page, and on an almost full inside page, of the Los Angeles Times, which, in itself, is no mean achievement.

Like all good headlines, that over the article on Fr. Banks captured the essence of the story. It read: "One God, two cultures."

A sub-headline, referring to the poverty and violence plagued area of Watts, in Los Angeles, added: "Father Peter Banks 'walks between the raindrops' to be a bridge between Latinos and blacks."

And there you have it, more or less . . . until you begin to ponder on the challenges the 63-years old Collooney man has grappled with.

As a seminarian, Peter Banks dreamt of serving in Zambia but in 1973 he was told he was going to the United States. As everyone knows, including priests moved by their superiors, all changes bring their own stresses and challenges. Among the first for the young Peter Banks was the casting away of his own perceptions of other places and other people.

Most of what he knew about Los Angeles had come from watching television, evoking thoughts of Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Marilyn Munroe.

"I had only one image of Los Angeles. It was white. It was wealthy, and it was by the beach. There was Hollywood and Disneyland," he told The Los Angeles Times, adding: "The TV did not show Watts."

He was 27 and had never met an African American. "I didn't even know Watts was black," he said.

After his plane touched down in Los Angeles, the Collooney man climbed into the biggest car he had ever seen, a Chevrolet. A Spanish-style church he passed was surrounding by a vast area of empty house spaces, or lots, devastation that was the product of the infamous 1965 Watts riots.

"It was a barren desert," Fr. Banks recalled. "I thought, how can the church be in a city without houses around it?"

Although feeling lonely and odd in the midst a black community he knew little about, Fr. Banks set about his work, observing, asking questions, listening and learning. He got his first taste of gospel music at black funerals. He became fond of Southern cooking and found out about life in the neighbourhood's four public housing projects.

And all the while, he was learning about a new culture and a new race.

But even as Fr. Banks was learning about one group, another group, Latinos, mostly immigrants from Mexico, began pouring in, resulting in a demographic shift that would have profound implications for him, his church and the neighbourhood.

"I felt I would prefer for it to stay all black. It's much easier to work with one culture," he said. "But the reality was that they were coming. I feared the unknown. I didn't want to learn a new language. But I thought I can't just let all these people be here and not do anything."

Again, he watched, asked, listened and learned. He went on a mission in Bolivia for three months to learn Spanish.

In his work as a priest, he found his position changing too.

"I didn't want the blacks to feel that now I was going to abandon them and go over to the Latinos. So I always had to try to say I'm for all."

On a recent Sunday at 6 a.m., he said Mass in what the Los Angeles Times described as "Irish-tinted Spanish." A 7:30 a.m., he said Mass for a congregation that was mostly black. At the 9 a.m. Mass, there was another crowd; this time it was mostly Latinos.

But if one suggests there's segregation, Fr. Banks says wait for the 11 a.m. service. And sure enough, the congregation, although mostly Latino, is mixed. The choir is black - and the priest, of course, is from Sligo.

"The big struggle is between the black and brown. How do we get them together," Fr. Banks said.

Turns out, music and food has been two of his many tools. He believes the key to reconciliation is not grand projects but a multitude of small gestures, such as simply getting people to mix and know each other. It requires patience, humility and modest expectations. For example, he's often seen walking in different areas. During meals at church events, he might have Latinos serving blacks and visa versa. When he realised that Africans and Latinos shared a passion for gospel music, he made gospel standards a centrepiece of Sunday services. He also leads by example, showing his concern not only for Catholics, not only for Latinos and blacks, but for Asians too.

Although now renowned for his efforts to promote racial understanding in Los Angeles, he acknowledges much remains to be done. But that, it seems, will be for others to continue because he's stepping down as pastor later this year.

"I've grown old here. My guts and my soul are tied to this area," he told the Los Angela's Times.

And then, he added: "There's still bridges to be built."

- HARRY KEANEY