In Canada’s north, where the wounds of the residential school system remain deeply etched into Indigenous communities, Archbishop Susai Jesu of Keewatin–Le Pas sees reconciliation not as a destination but as a daily act of accompaniment.
The 55-year-old Jesu was born in India, in the village of Pushpavanam in Tamil Nadu State, India, and is the first cleric from the subcontinent appointed to lead a North American archdiocese not primarily serving the Indian diaspora.
The archdiocese of Keewatin–Les Pas sprawls across more the 450,000 square miles in which roughly 90% of the faithful belong to the Indigenous groups of the First Nations in Canada, with whom Jesu has come to feel a powerful kinship over two decades of ministry.
The missionary of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate has learned the language of the Cree people to whom he has ministered, first as a priest and now as archbishop, in large part by listening.
“Language is much more than a means of communication,” Jesu told Crux Now. “It is a doorway into culture, identity, and relationship,” the archbishop said.
“When people see that you are making the effort to learn their language and understand their traditions,” he said, “trust begins to grow,” and through fostering those relationships, “genuine listening becomes possible.”
“It is within this space of encounter,” Jesu tod Crux Now, “that wounds begin to heal and that hearts become open to the transforming grace of God.”
Jesu was one of 35 metropolitan archbishops in Rome this week to receive the special sign of his office – the pallium – from Pope Leo XIV, in a special Mass marking the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, an experience he described as a “deeply spiritual moment.”
It was “a profound sign of communion between the local Church and the universal Church,” he said, as well as “a reminder of the bishop’s vocation to carry the Good Shepherd’s mission of guiding, protecting, and serving the flock entrusted to his care.”
Jesu told Crux Now his meeting with the Holy Father “was marked by remarkable simplicity, joy and genuine warmth.”
“He received me with great attentiveness,” Jesu said, “and his concern for Indigenous peoples was evident.”
“When I told him that approximately 90% of the faithful in my archdiocese are Indigenous,” Jesu recounted, “he looked at me and simply said, ‘Take care of them’.”
“Those words immediately brought to mind Christ’s own commission to Saint Peter: ‘Take care of my sheep’. They remain deeply engraved in my heart,” the archbishop said, “as both an encouragement and a responsibility.”
In a candid conversation with Crux Now in Rome this week, Jesu spoke of a Church called to listen before she speaks, to remain present before she acts, and to witness that authentic healing is ultimately found in the compassionate love of Christ.
Jesu reflected on the challenges of serving one of Canada’s largest archdioceses in extent of territory and on Church’s mission of reconciliation.
Below, please find a transcript of Crux Now’s conversation with Archbishop Susai Jesu of Keewatin–Le Pas, Canada…
Crux Now: What was your experience meeting with Pope Leo XIV and receiving the pallium?
Archbishop Susai Jesu: Walking towards the altar to receive the pallium was a deeply spiritual moment, filled with gratitude. My heart was full of thanksgiving to Christ, the Good Shepherd, to Our Blessed Mother, to my own mother as well, and for the gift of the vocation entrusted to me.
The pallium is far more than a liturgical vestment.
It is a profound sign of communion between the local Church and the universal Church, and a reminder of the bishop’s vocation to carry the Good Shepherd’s mission of guiding, protecting, and serving the flock entrusted to his care.
Whenever I wear it, I am reminded that my ministry must always be rooted in communion, humility, and sacrificial love.
Placing the pallium over my shoulders is a reminder of the greater responsibility entrusted to me.
My meeting with the Holy Father was marked by remarkable simplicity, joy and genuine warmth. He received me with great attentiveness, and his concern for Indigenous peoples was evident.
When I told him that approximately 90% of the faithful in my archdiocese are Indigenous, he looked at me and simply said, “Take care of them.”
Those words immediately brought to mind Christ’s own commission to Saint Peter: “Take care of my sheep.” They remain deeply engraved in my heart as both an encouragement and a responsibility.
I also find great inspiration in Pope Leo’s own missionary experience in Peru, where for many years he served as both priest and bishop among rural and Indigenous communities.
His witness reminds me that authentic pastoral leadership begins not in administration, but in closeness to the people, especially those living on the peripheries of society.
What has been the reception of your ministry among parish communities?
The reception has been overwhelmingly warm and encouraging. In many communities there is a genuine openness toward priests who have come from India to serve here. People often greet us with humour and hospitality, but beneath that warmth lies a sincere spirit of acceptance and welcome.
I still remember people telling me when I first arrived that they had been praying for a good priest, and that God had answered their prayers by sending them a real Indian priest. There was humour in that remark, but also genuine affection and appreciation.
Ultimately, ministry in this Archdiocese is about far more than administering programmes.
It is about sharing life with people, entering into their joys and struggles, and helping them deepen their relationship with Christ, especially through the celebration of the Eucharist and the Sacraments.
The openness and trust I have experienced from parish communities have been a great source of encouragement and strength in my pastoral ministry.
What are the greatest challenges of leading such a vast diocese?
The archdiocese covers an immense territory of approximately 450,000 square miles.
Although many communities are accessible by road or air, the sheer distances involved make travel one of the greatest challenges of my ministry. Much of my time is spent driving long hours, often alone, in order to reach the people entrusted to my care.
Communication can also be difficult, as Internet connectivity is limited in many areas.
During the long winter months, when temperatures fall well below freezing, these challenges become even more demanding.
Yet I do not believe in making what I call a “doctor’s visit”, like simply arriving, staying briefly, and leaving.
Whenever I travel to a community, I try to remain for two or three days. I celebrate the Eucharist, hear confessions, visit families, meet with priests and pastoral collaborators, and spend time simply listening to people.
Presence is itself an essential part of pastoral ministry.
Whatever the logistical or climatic challenges may be, I strive to approach every visit with an open heart, an open mind, and an open will, without preconceived answers.
Only by listening attentively can I discern what the people are truly asking of the Church and how we are called to respond.
What has surprised you most about the suffering in your diocese?
What has struck me most deeply is the profound and enduring pain that remains in the wake of the residential school system.
I have encountered many people carrying wounds that are not immediately visible but are expressed through addiction, broken relationships, despair, and a loss of hope. These realities are heartbreaking.
This suffering is rarely a simple matter of personal choice. More often, it is the manifestation of deep interior wounds that have never been fully healed. That is why accompaniment is so essential.
We must walk alongside people with patience and compassion, especially by working closely with Elders and community leaders, whose wisdom and experience are indispensable in supporting those who continue to struggle.
One cannot speak authentically about reconciliation without first entering into a personal experience of healing and understanding. We cannot deny the painful realities of the past, nor should we minimise them.
At the same time, we cannot allow ourselves to remain imprisoned by them. Again and again, I hear people say that they want to move forward.
That, for me, is a profound sign of hope.
The journey is undoubtedly difficult because the wounds are deep. Yet the encouraging reality is that healing, growth, and renewed relationships are aspirations shared by the communities themselves.
It is this hope that inspires and sustains my ministry.
What does your vision of reconciliation and healing mean in practical terms for the Archdiocese of Keewatin-le pas?
Reconciliation and healing are not abstract ideas. They are realities that must be lived and experienced.
During my nineteen years of walking alongside Indigenous peoples and serving among them, I have come to recognize three broad groups.
Approximately 20% have already undertaken the journey of reconciliation and have found ways to move forward. Another 20 to 30% are actively engaged in that process; they acknowledge the painful realities of the past and are striving to build a future shaped by hope.
However, there remains a significant number – perhaps around 55% — who continue to carry deep wounds.
The pain they have experienced or inherited remains a heavy burden, making it difficult to move forward. It is these brothers and sisters who occupy the heart of my pastoral concern.
While I remain deeply grateful for those who have already progressed on the path of healing, and while the Church will continue to accompany them, my particular focus is on those who remain wounded, including those who continue to harbour anger toward the Church.
My mission is not to offer quick solutions but to be present, to listen attentively, and to walk patiently with them.
Only through that ministry of accompaniment can we move forward together as one people.
Why have some individuals not been able to move towards reconciliation?
Humanly speaking, many have been deeply affected by the painful memory of the residential school system and the broader suffering experienced by Indigenous communities.
These histories are taught in schools and remembered within families and communities. As a result, they often evoke strong emotions, especially when the wounds are both personal and collective.
What is often missing, however, is a guided process that helps transform anger into healing.
Anger, in itself, is not the problem.
It can be a natural response to injustice and suffering. Yet when it is not accompanied by a path toward reconciliation, it can become a burden that imprisons the heart and prevents healing from taking root.
In some cases, people seek fleeting relief from their pain through destructive coping mechanisms such as alcohol and drug abuse, which only deepen existing wounds. For this reason, Church leaders must become authentic agents of peace, healing, and hope.
Rather than remaining trapped in a culture of blame, we are called to accompany people with compassion, to listen deeply to their stories, and to share in their suffering so that the path toward healing may gradually unfold.
How can reconciliation become a lived responsibility for parishes and individual Catholics?
Reconciliation begins with formation and relationship. Before asking others to undertake this journey, I must begin with myself, with my priests, and with all those who collaborate in ministry.
For this reason, we have established an inculturation programme lasting between two and four months to help clergy and pastoral collaborators understand the history, cultural context, and ongoing realities that shape the reconciliation process.
A vital part of this formation is direct encounter.
I regularly visit communities and spend time with local leaders, including chiefs and councillors, because they possess a deep understanding of the lived realities of their people. Authentic pastoral ministry begins by listening and learning.
We also encourage clergy and pastoral workers to learn local Indigenous languages such as Cree and Dene.
Language is much more than a means of communication; it is a doorway into culture, identity, and relationship. When people see that you are making the effort to learn their language and understand their traditions, trust begins to grow.
As relationships of trust deepen, genuine listening becomes possible. It is within this space of encounter that wounds begin to heal and that hearts become open to the transforming grace of God.
Reconciliation then ceases to be merely a programme or initiative and becomes a way of life rooted in communion and mutual respect.
How is your clergy structured to serve such a large number of communities?
When I was appointed Archbishop, there were fifteen priests serving the archdiocese.
Following last Christmas, two priests returned to India, leaving thirteen priests in active ministry, in addition to myself. With approximately fifty communities entrusted to our pastoral care, this presents a significant challenge.
We are therefore working to increase the number of priests to around twenty by inviting missionaries, many of them from religious congregations, to join us in this mission.
Encouragingly, several communities have even offered to help support a priest financially, not as a commercial arrangement, but as a genuine expression of shared responsibility for the life of the Church.
Above all, the people are looking for priests who are faithful, compassionate, and deeply committed to their ministry.
They desire shepherds who can accompany young people, strengthen families, nurture faith, and help communities move beyond the wounds of the past toward a future marked by hope and renewal.
How do you ensure safeguarding and contextual formation for clergy?
Safeguarding is an essential responsibility of the Church and an integral part of priestly ministry.
Every priest serving in the archdiocese must complete safeguarding protocols, including background checks, police clearances, and all the necessary requirements for working with minors and vulnerable persons.
Beyond these general practical measures, we place great emphasis on ongoing formation.
All clergy must participate in an inculturation programme that introduces them to the history, cultures, and lived realities of the Indigenous communities we serve.
This formation includes learning about the treaties, the significance of land acknowledgements, and the historical experiences that continue to shape relationships today.
Such formation is not merely academic.
It helps our priests minister with humility, cultural sensitivity, and genuine respect, enabling them to build relationships of trust and to serve as authentic witnesses to the Gospel within the communities entrusted to their care.
How did you experience your calling to this ministry?
I was ordained in 2000 and began my ministry in North India among tribal communities. As a member of the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the missionary vocation has always been at the heart of my priesthood.
Learning the local language enabled me to enter more deeply into the lives of the people and strengthened both my ministry and my understanding of what it means to proclaim the Gospel through presence and relationship.
From the beginning, my desire was simply to be a missionary. I never knew where the Lord would send me, although I had always imagined serving in South Africa.
Canada never entered my thoughts.
I considered it a developed country and assumed that missionary work belonged primarily to places marked by material poverty.
The Lord, however, had a different plan.
It was only after arriving in Canada that I discovered another kind of missionary frontier, one shaped not by material deprivation alone, but by historical wounds, cultural complexity, and the deep need for healing, reconciliation, and hope.
I came to realise that mission is not defined by geography but by wherever Christ calls us to bear witness to His love.
Nor did I ever imagine becoming a bishop. I was happy and fulfilled as a missionary priest. When the call came from the Nuncio, I spent two hours in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament, entrusting everything to the Lord.
Only then was I able to say yes, trusting that the One who calls also gives the grace to serve.
What is your hope for the future of the Archdiocese of Keewatin-le pas?
My deepest hope is that the journey of healing and reconciliation will continue unceasingly, especially for those who remain burdened by painful memories and unresolved wounds.
Every person is at a different stage of that journey, and our first responsibility as the Church is to meet people where they are, accompanying them patiently with the compassionate love of Christ.
We are called to touch wounded hearts with the tenderness of the Gospel and gently lead them to the healing embrace of the Crucified and Risen Lord, who alone can restore hope, reconcile hearts, and make all things new.
Ultimately, the goal is not simply the growth of an institution, but the transformation of lives.
When individuals encounter the healing love of Christ, families are strengthened, communities are renewed, and relationships marked by trust and peace begin to flourish. This is the true fruit of reconciliation.
Such a mission cannot be accomplished by human effort alone. It requires constant prayer, the grace of God, and the shared commitment of the entire people of God.
With faith in the Lord and by walking together in hope, I believe the Archdiocese of Keewatin–Le Pas can become an ever more visible sign of Christ’s healing presence among the Indigenous peoples and all those entrusted to our pastoral care.