Man in black—times two: Father Guy Roberts uses tae kwon do
to build unusual bond with students
Students at St. Joan of Arc School in Indianapolis follow the lead of Father Guy Roberts to demonstrate a tae kwon do move during an after-school program. Lauren Graves, from left, Aleise Holder, Micah Jackson and David House are among the 30 students who meet twice a week for lessons from Father Roberts, the pastor of St. Joan of Arc Parish, who has earned a black belt in tae kwon do. (Photo by John Shaughnessy)
By John Shaughnessy
The eyes of 8-year-old Lauren Graves are almost as wide as her smile when she recalls the first time she saw Father Guy Roberts walk into St. Joan of Arc School in Indianapolis to give a demonstration in tae kwon do.
Lauren had been used to seeing the parish priest celebrate the school’s Masses, but this time he was barefoot, wearing a white martial arts uniform and carrying several wooden boards.
Then he kicked one of the boards and shattered it, drawing stunned “Did you see that?! I can’t believe I just saw that!” looks from Lauren and other St. Joan of Arc students.
“I thought it was really cool, and I was wowed at the same time,” Lauren recalls. “I couldn’t believe Father Guy was up there breaking boards. That was cool, and I wanted to do it.”
As Father Guy—the priest who wears black and has a black belt in tae kwon do—broke the boards, he also began to build a different bond with the students at St. Joan of Arc. For the past two years, he has provided after-school lessons in the martial art to interested students, a connection that has helped to increase the respect, self-discipline and even the grades of many of the children who participate in the program.
“I notice that students want to stay in the program, and they know they have to do well in school to stay in the program,” says Mary Pat Sharpe, the principal of St. Joan of Arc School. “He has high expectations for the kids when they’re in his class and when they’re in school. For those students who have been doing it for a couple of years, you can see the growth in them. It carries over into the classroom.”
Even more important to the students, the Monday and Wednesday afternoon lessons are fun, says 8-year-old Maeve Flynn.
“You don’t have to be sitting at home watching TV,” says Maeve, a third-grade student who has earned an orange belt, signifying the third level of achievement in tae kwon do. “It’s relaxing. It calms you down. You don’t have to think about your school work.”
Besides, she gets to break wooden boards. She smiles as she remembers the first time she saw Father Roberts splinter a board. “I was very, very surprised.”
It’s almost as surprising as the path that led the Baptist-raised Father Roberts to become a Catholic and then a priest, a priest who just happened to become initially involved in tae kwon do as a child because of the 1970s’ television show Kung Fu starring David Carradine.
“I started when I was 7,” says Father Guy, now 41. “I was always reserved. From watching the television show, my parents thought it would be good for exercise and confidence. I was always a spiritual kid and, once I started it, I saw something spiritual in the martial arts. Kung fu was started by [Buddhist] monks.”
Yet just a year after he started the sport, he was seriously injured as a passenger in a pickup truck that was struck by a train near his family’s home in Brownsburg. Both his legs and ankles were broken in the crash.
“I wasn’t able to do anything physically for a long time,” he recalls. “It took a year or two to be able to play or run again.”
He drifted away from the martial arts, but his interest in developing his spirituality continued to grow through the years. Even though he was raised as a Baptist, he started thinking about becoming a Catholic priest when he was a freshman at Butler University in Indianapolis.
When he later told his parents about his desire to become a Catholic and to study theology, his mother suggested a different route—entering a Lutheran seminary in St. Louis. He tried it, but the desire to be a Catholic remained.
“I didn’t want to settle for anything less,” Father Roberts says. “It was essentially my search for the truth. I’m not one to be satisfied with just the basics. I want to go back to the roots of everything. I wanted to go back to the Church that Jesus and the Apostles started.”
He left the Lutheran seminary, became a Catholic in 1996 and was ordained a priest in 1998 in the Diocese of Sante Fe, N.M. Health issues and the desire to be closer to his family in Brownsburg eventually led him to ask to serve in the Archdiocese of Indianapolis. He has been here since 2005.
Coming home also led to a renewed interest in tae kwon do.
“When I transferred back here, I met Grand Master Jae Park,” Father Roberts says. “He started training me. He’s a member of St. Luke’s [Parish in Indianapolis]. It was actually Grandmaster Park who wanted me to teach the children. He said, ‘They’re your kids.’ ”
Father Roberts provides the lessons for free. He also tries to be there when the children do the different “forms” or moves to earn their next belt.
At 10, Patrick Johnson has earned a purple belt, his fifth belt in two years.
“It’s pretty cool to practice new things as you advance to a new belt,” Patrick says. “You get to break boards, too.”
Breaking boards is a small part of the plan that Father Roberts has for the students.
“I tell them it’s not about physical strength, it’s all about technique,” the priest says. “That’s where the discipline comes in.”
He requires that his students follow certain rules to stay in the program, including being honest, respecting parents and grandparents, and honoring the decisions that their parents make.
“When I see them in class and when I see them around, they have more confidence and respect,” Father Roberts says. “They take more responsibility. They will step up and do things in school and church without being told. Patrick is an altar server. He’s become an even better one because he anticipates and pays attention more.”
The principal sees another benefit to the lessons that are given in the school’s gymnasium.
“It gives the kids another window to see the vocation of a priest, that there’s a lot of ways to interact with people,” Sharpe says. “It also gives him a way to connect with the kids besides celebrating Mass and coming into the classroom to talk about religion. About 40 percent of our students are non-Catholic. That means he is interacting with quite a few students who aren’t Catholic through tae kwon do. And, of course, our mission is evangelization.”
For Father Roberts, it’s all part of the joy of being a priest.
“In many people’s minds, a priest does one thing—he lives at the church,” he says. “A lot of people don’t get to know the priest outside the vestments. To see a priest do tae kwon do is unusual for a lot of kids. One of the things [that] I like about being a priest is the ability to be flexible. You’re a counselor, an artist, a musician. It’s more a lifestyle than a job. You’re able to share so many things.”
Father Roberts shares his faith. He shares his beliefs and his rules for living a good life focused on others. He shares his passion for a sport that gives children confidence, self-discipline and joy.
“It’s fun because you get to exercise, hang out with your friends and advance to another belt, says Lauren, the 8-year-old with the wide eyes and the smile to match. “You never use it for violence. You only do it for protection, and you get to do all these moves. We also get to learn it from our priest. And he keeps it holy. We always pray before class.” †
