With the July 4 holiday still fresh in our memory, it's a good time to remember what defines us as a country. It isn't race or where our parents were born. It's an ideal — a belief about the nature of the human person. At its best, the United States is about the equality of each person's human dignity, justice under the law and the opportunity to build a better future.

We don't always achieve that, but for 227 years, we've never stopped trying, and the effort has always involved friction and hope. America is a nation continually renewed by immigrants. Nearly every American, somewhere in his or her family history, is a foreigner. That's especially true for Catholics. The waves of Irish, Italian, Polish and German Catholics who arrived here in the 19th and 20th centuries faced bitter ethnic and religious prejudice. Some of the ugliest discrimination occurred right here in Colorado, a Ku Klux Klan stronghold until well into the last century.

So what's the lesson for Colorado Catholics? The open public square we take for granted today was built by immigrants who invested their lives in the American experiment, often at great personal cost. For many thousands of them, the Church was their only defender and voice. We have the same vocation in 2003 as we did in 1903: to welcome and assist the newcomer, and in doing that, to guide our country and our state to live up to America's best ideals.

Of course, that sounds great in theory. Living that vocation, like living the Gospel itself, can be a lot more demanding in practice than in theory, but our actions — not our words — define who we really are.

Over the last 25 years, Hispanics have grown tremendously as a percentage of the U.S. population, especially in states like Colorado. This is very good news for the Church, because Hispanic Catholics bring with them deep traditions of family and faith. They're a vital part of our future and a source of renewal for the whole Catholic community.

But this good news also creates challenges. New arrivals need help and a place to feel safe and welcome, and if they don't find these things in the Catholic Church, other religious groups will very happily oblige. More than 60,000 Hispanic Catholics leave the Church every year for sects and Protestant churches nationwide. This is a tragedy, and there's no one to blame but ourselves. It also reminds us that Hispanic Catholics have lived in Colorado for 400 years, and the many thousands who have remained faithful to the Church down through the generations are all the more admirable because, too often in the past, they were pushed to the margins.

I understand the uncertainty that can occur as new people arrive in a community and the nature of parish life changes. Change can be hard, but it's nothing unusual for the Church. The Acts of the Apostles talks of many of the same issues we face in 2003. We shape the future of the Church in Colorado by the Christian welcome and support we show to each other today, even at the cost of our own discomfort — or rather, especially at the cost of our own discomfort.

This Saturday, July 12, I'll join Bishop José Gomez in inaugurating the Centro San Juan Diego, a community center designed to serve Hispanic Catholics throughout the archdiocese. The Centro will provide religious education, family life assistance and other vital services to Hispanic Catholics. It's a wonderful facility — not just to look at and use, but because it's built by the sacrifices of Hispanic and non-Hispanic Catholics alike. It's a project of and for our whole Church. In fact, it's an effort every Catholic in Northern Colorado should take pride in, because it embodies how Christians should help their brothers and sisters, and it plants the seed of the next generation of faith.

There's no better way to show the spirit of Christian fraternity the Gospels ask from each of us.

Centro San Juan Diego, located at 2830 Lawrence St., will officially open with a dedication ceremony 11 a.m. July 12.