Editor's note: "The Faith in Our Lives" is a monthly series spotlighting Catholics in various walks of life, and how they connect faith with what they do.

By 1996, Sharon Johnson had crafted a career many aspiring writers who flock to Hollywood would die for.

The Barnard College alumnae, who also holds a master's degree in media studies, had been a writer on three TV shows: Fox's "Sinbad," ABC's "Buddies" and UPN's "Good Behavior." No small feat for an African American woman in tinseltown.

Although the hours were long, the pay more than compensated. Still, something was missing for Johnson, who was raised Catholic by a Baptist father and Catholic mother in Brooklyn and Queens, New York, along with an older brother and younger twin siblings. Then on Dec. 3 of that year, her dad died from a severe diabetic reaction, and Johnson's fast-lane West Coast life hit a sudden metaphysical speed bump.

"That was always my fear," the 39-year-old single woman confides today. "But I didn't even realize until after he passed how much that fear gripped my whole sensibility. So I really had to come to terms with, 'What do you really believe about death? What do you believe if you are so afraid of this?'

"So that was a big life-changing event," she stresses. "And that's really when I started more seriously focusing on the deeper meaning of Scripture and how it can be used to heal. You hear about the 'wounded healer,' about going through suffering people try to avoid. But by going through it is what deepens your faith, and it deepens your ability to minister to others."

'Defecting in place'
After returning from the New York funeral to Los Angeles for two more months of shooting the television show she was working on, Johnson decided to take a year off to get her priorities straight. And the following January, when she got back in the television loop again, it "felt different."

Writing sitcom one-liners and creating silly scenes just weren't enough anymore. It was time to break out of the confines of the TV writers' room --- where she was often the only woman, never mind the only African-American present --- and find her own voice before she became, in her words, the "black writer slut."

First, she did what she likes to call "defecting in place" by becoming more involved in the Writers' Guild West and revitalizing its sagging Committee of Black Writers. Chairing the group, her goal was not only to raise the visibility and esteem of African-American writers, but also to highlight the singular employment barriers blacks faced in the industry.

"I also read a book --- 'The Kingdom Within, The Inner Meaning of Jesus' Sayings' by John Sanford --- that changed my life," she reports. "He took Scripture and showed how it related to you individually."

Johnson decided it was high time to get involved in her own church.

With the goal of "moving" the congregation the way she had been moved by the Word after her father's death, the writer became a lector at Holy Name of Jesus Church on West 31st Street. For the last two years, she's chaired the lector ministry, and volunteered to be on the liturgy committee, too.

Last September, she started coordinating the youth ministry at the urban parish. Her six-page plan calls for the group to focus on volunteering with Habitat for Humanity this year, repairing houses for the poor. She also hopes to stem chronic "Mass-is-boring" teenage complaints by having members be responsible for three youth Masses in 2004. And she wants to create adolescent leaders who can stand up to the onslaught of destructive peer pressure.

In addition, Johnson was recently named editor of the AACCFE (African American Catholic Center for Evangelization) Newsletter. After struggling to get out the first issue, which featured articles on communication in marriage, the movie "Barbershop" and center happenings, she wants to have more black Catholics not only share their faith in print, but to speak out about issues in the parish, archdiocese and church that might need changing.

Remaining present
"I think that people are surprised when you're black and Catholic," Johnson says, grinning a bit. "There are some black people who are surprised --- especially when you're in a group of non-Catholics and they begin to rip apart the Catholic Church, and you say you're Catholic. Catholics in general, and black Catholics in particular, don't know how to defend their faith. It just seems like other people know their faith more."

Growing up in St. Mary Magdalene parish in Queens, she never experienced any direct discrimination from fellow white parishioners. But the perceptive girl did notice there were no priests or nuns "who looked like me."

And as an educated black Catholic woman, who is sometimes invited to be on archdiocesan committees, she's felt occasionally "put off" after speaking her mind. It makes her wonder why she was asked to join these groups in the first place.

"I think we're beginning to see change," Johnson reports. "I think it's up to black Catholics to remain present so they can change it even more. I mean, just by your presence you have to make people acknowledge you. But we're in the minority, and then there's the whole issue of slavery between us, which even today frames our relationship."

Can't go back
The native New Yorker is trying to change that relationship by her own presence in the church as well as through her stories in the AACCEE Newsletter and, on occasion, The Tidings. She says she could never return to writing mindless dribble for sitcoms because she's no longer "unconscious."

People have told Sharon Johnson she's crazy for trading the glitz and glamour --- and money! --- of Hollywood for her volunteer labors at Holy Name of Jesus Church and the AACCFE, which she supports by being a substitute music teacher. They've told her she should be writing for the networks and cable, not The Tidings.

All she can do is shake her head and try to explain.

"Sometimes I'm like, 'Lord, can't I just go back to 1996?'" Johnson almost whispers. "But I know I can't go back because I would be choosing it for wrong reasons. People cannot understand that. They're like, 'Are you crazy?'"

And her smile fades.

"People don't want to destroy anything to build something," the wordsmith points out. "But my own life has shown me that you have to destroy all the old stuff to build up the new stuff."