Saturday, July 2, 2005
Social activist John Fife will retire soon
Still to strive for justice
GABRIELLE FIMBRES
Tucson Citizen
ADVERTISEMENT
As Dorothy Reid's nimble fingers dance on the piano's keys, filling the church with rousing strains of "I'm too Blessed to be Stressed," the congregation at Southside Presbyterian Church dances and sings, creating a joyful sense of belonging.
At the heart of this Sunday celebration is the beaming Rev. John M. Fife, dressed in white robes and singing along with the choir, made complete with the sweet voice of his wife, Marianne.
Thirty-five years ago, Fife, then a young pastor from Pennsylvania, stepped in as the head of the crumbling, little church that has stood about a mile east of "A" Mountain since 1906.
With no pastor and only 24 members, the church that brought together Native Americans, blacks, Hispanics and Anglos was slated to be closed.
But Fife, now 65, helped turn Southside into a thriving congregation of 230 members who worship and work together in the name of social justice.
His career has taken him from the Nogales border, where he helped Central Americans flee to the United States, to the boardrooms of multinational corporations, where he stood up for the poor and oppressed.
This lanky preacher with an impish grin is preparing to preach his final sermons at Southside. He will retire from the congregation July 10.
Freddy and Maribel Tobar danced with joy as the choir sang on a recent Sunday. But their hearts ache over Fife's pending departure.
"Everybody is sad in our hearts," said Freddy Tobar, 58, a member of the church for 13 years. "But we have been very blessed from God, who put him in our community."
Mike Wilson, who read prayers of blessing in Tohono O'odham during the two-hour service, said, "John's moral leadership is probably unequaled when the question comes to social and ethical issues. He continues to be a prophetic voice in the desert."
Changed lives
Fife has fought to improve living conditions for the disenfranchised and destitute worldwide.
As a member of the National Council of the Presbyterian Church, he negotiated with major multinational corporations on environmental concerns including strip mining and the building of nuclear power plants.
He worked to stop companies from marketing infant formula to Third World nations because babies were dying when the formula ran out or when it was mixed with water to cut costs.
Members of his congregation said his daily acts of kindness changed their lives.
"When my mother was dying, John made time to visit her every day," said Catalina Verduzco, 64, whose mother died in January. "He would pray with her and talk to her. When she went into a coma, he would pray with us. When she passed, he came at 1 a.m. and stayed and lit candles and prayed with us. He was there to give us the answers we needed and to let us cry. It was very peaceful."
The son of a Presbyterian minister, Fife dreamed of becoming a marine biologist. But too much drinking in his fraternity at Washington & Jefferson College in Pennsylvania left him "searching for the meaning of life."
That search has led him around the globe, speaking out for those who have no voice.
NEXT PAGE» 1,
2,
3