OPEN LETTER TO THE BAPTIST CHURCH ON THE LIFE AND PASSING OF REV. JESSE JACKSON

The Baptist Church was once the place where I first witnessed a faith so immense that it opened my eyes in ways I did not expect. Even as a Catholic and a Mexican, I found myself moved by the sincerity of Baptist worship and the way its communities embraced spiritual awakening. That early encounter helped set me on my own path, one that eventually deepened my admiration for figures like Mother Teresa and strengthened my belief that Jesús es nuestro Señor. ¡Viva México! ¡Viva la Virgen de Guadalupe!

As I reflect on the life of Rev. Jesse Jackson, I want to begin by acknowledging the earnest mission of the Baptist Church itself. I have always respected the Church’s commitment to spreading its message and nurturing hope among its congregations. My support for the Baptist Church remains sincere, even though I am not a Baptist myself. My Catholic upbringing and my Mexican heritage shape my faith, but they also allow me to appreciate the spiritual richness found in other traditions.

When it comes to Rev. Jackson, my feelings are more complicated. While I recognize his long public life and the impact he had on many people, I have always been more skeptical of his broader offerings to North America. From my perspective as a Mexican living in a foreign land, I sometimes felt that his public role drifted away from the core aims and goals of his own religious foundation. Still, I can acknowledge that his life was meaningful to many and that his years in this country left a mark on its history.

Some have claimed that Rev. Jackson walked a path similar to mine or that he shared in experiences that I consider deeply spiritual. I cannot agree with that. I know what it means to witness a miracle, and I know the weight of calling oneself a prophet. In Mexico, we have a long tradition of people touched by the divine—humble miracle‑workers from pueblos across the nation. That heritage is part of who I am. I do not believe Rev. Jackson shared that same experience; I say that only for clarity.

To those who imagine him as something beyond what he was, I would simply say: do not confuse admiration with myth‑making. His supporters have every right to honor his memory, but elevating him into something he never claimed to be does not serve truth or faith. If I have ever spoken too sharply about these claims, then I offer my apology—not for my beliefs, but for any misunderstanding they may have caused.

There is a saying that without the false prophet, the true prophet cannot be revealed. I do not use this phrase to condemn anyone, but to reflect on the nature of spiritual identity. Each of us must discern what is real in our own journey. I often picture the image of a serpent biting into an apple—not as a symbol of evil alone, but as a reminder of the human heart, full of longing and contradiction. The apple may be forbidden fruit, yet it also represents the desire for peace, understanding, and spiritual truth.

As I close this letter, I return to what grounds me: my Catholic faith, my Mexican heritage, and my respect for the Baptist Church that once helped awaken something powerful within me. I remain grateful for the spiritual paths that cross and intertwine, even when I do not agree with every figure who walks them. Rev. Jesse Jackson has taken his final bow, and may all of us—Baptist, Catholic, Mexican, American—continue seeking the light that guides us. ¡Viva México! ¡Viva la Virgen de Guadalupe! Jesús es nuestro Señor.

Is this image of Simon of Cyrene really painted in my likeness?