Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Gospel Seeds
July has been a busy month. Jodi spent the month with the Sicangu Lakota in South Dakota and then met up with 18 people from God's House for our second trip to the Wiconi Living Waters Family Camp and Pow Wow in Turner Oregon at the end of the month.
Through out the month one question has been, why, after 500 years of missionary endeavors with the indiginous people of North America are there so few who would identify as following Jesus? And what, if anything, can be done now to rectify that?
One Native elder who was asked this question responded, "The gospel was never planted as a seed in our cultures. A seed adapts to its environment, it takes on some of the characteristics of the life around it. The gospel was always brought to us as an already formed plant, a plant that had the characteristics of Western culture. Now we need to let the gospel be planted as a seed and see what will grow."
It is interesting that when we first attended Wiconi Family Camp and Pow Wow, Allan, a Kwakwat'l man said that it was the first time he felt like he could be Native and Christian at the same time. Even though we use many indiginous forms in our ways of being church this was the first time he was seeing Native men and women worshipping Jesus in culturally appropriate ways. Not only historically, but even today I am amazed at how many Native people I meet who believe (because they have been told it over and over and over again) that they need to choose between being Native or following Jesus, they cannot do both. But this is a complete denial of the fact that culture bears some aspect of God's glory. That culture is an expression of our humanity and yes, our humanity is fallen, and something of its true nature is obscured by sin, but it is also an expression of the nature of God, we are made in God's image, and our cultures will also bear something of God's image. The gospel both brings out the "God light" in culture and corrects the lies of sin in culture. Missiological practice tells us though that it is the people in the culture who, by the Spirit of God are able to discern what is of God and what is not. However it is outsiders to Native culture who continue by and large to say what cultural practices are of the devil and what of God, without an insiders understanding of those practices, and the seed of the gospel continues to not be given space to take root.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Goal Posts: What are we trying to do here?
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Truth and Reconciliation
Did you know that Canada is in the midst of a Truth and Reconciliation process like the one that South Africa went through at the end of apartheid?
Read below for more information on this. I (Jodi) have had the privilege of working with a this group in BC on behalf of our denomination and God's House of Many Faces.
Over the past few decades,there has been an increasing awareness of the church's disturbing historical relationship with native people in Canada. The key role that missionaries played in the colonization of this land, and the specific task of administering Indian Residential Schools that certain denominations fulfilled, are both very troubling aspects of our history in this place.
In particular, from the 1870s to 1996 Canada established 130 Indian Residential Schools across the country, which were government funded and church run. These schools had the express purpose of eliminating parental involvement in the intellectual, cultural and spiritual development of Aboriginal children.
Survivors took the government and churches to court to address the harms of this system. The settlement involved 2 parts: compensation to former students and the implementation of a 5 year Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The mandate of the Commission is to learn the truth of what happened at the schools and to inform all Canadians of this truth as a means of healing and reconciliation (taken from the TRC website, www.trc.ca).
Here in BC an Ecumenical Coalition was called together at the request of the Indian Residential School Survivors Society (IRSSS) to be the hands tasked with ensuring that the process of the TRC becomes an opening in the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal persons whereby real healing and reconciliation can begin.
The Ecumenical group consists of party denominations (those responsible for running schools) and non-party denominations. While the TRC officially only involves party denominations, deep and lasting reconciliation requires all followers of Jesus to own our part in the attitudes that contributed to the schools, and to learn new ways of relating to Aboriginal persons in light of the wounding that has been done in the name of Jesus to our Aboriginal brothers and sisters. The Ecumenical group is committed to finding openings and opportunities within our traditions to further the work of reconciliation.
This work is important because 1) in the name of Jesus, the church in Canada colluded with the State to remove children from their homes and communities in order to "kill the Indian in the child"; 2) for the sake of the gospel, Canadian Christians need to know our history and be given the opportunity to repent of our misdeeds; and 3) for the sake of reconciliation (the primary task of Jesus our Saviour) we must examine and renounce the doctrines and traditions that allowed us to justify and perpetuate this sin against our brothers and sisters.
In South Africa during apartheid, a group of theologians across a variety of denominations got together and wrote a document renouncing the practice of apartheid and the church doctrines and traditions that supported it (see http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/kairos-document-1985-0#.TyWPM8ikeOI.mailto). Survivors of Indian Residential Schools in Canada are asking that the same thing be done here.
Read below for more information on this. I (Jodi) have had the privilege of working with a this group in BC on behalf of our denomination and God's House of Many Faces.
Over the past few decades,there has been an increasing awareness of the church's disturbing historical relationship with native people in Canada. The key role that missionaries played in the colonization of this land, and the specific task of administering Indian Residential Schools that certain denominations fulfilled, are both very troubling aspects of our history in this place.
In particular, from the 1870s to 1996 Canada established 130 Indian Residential Schools across the country, which were government funded and church run. These schools had the express purpose of eliminating parental involvement in the intellectual, cultural and spiritual development of Aboriginal children.
Survivors took the government and churches to court to address the harms of this system. The settlement involved 2 parts: compensation to former students and the implementation of a 5 year Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The mandate of the Commission is to learn the truth of what happened at the schools and to inform all Canadians of this truth as a means of healing and reconciliation (taken from the TRC website, www.trc.ca).
Here in BC an Ecumenical Coalition was called together at the request of the Indian Residential School Survivors Society (IRSSS) to be the hands tasked with ensuring that the process of the TRC becomes an opening in the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal persons whereby real healing and reconciliation can begin.
The Ecumenical group consists of party denominations (those responsible for running schools) and non-party denominations. While the TRC officially only involves party denominations, deep and lasting reconciliation requires all followers of Jesus to own our part in the attitudes that contributed to the schools, and to learn new ways of relating to Aboriginal persons in light of the wounding that has been done in the name of Jesus to our Aboriginal brothers and sisters. The Ecumenical group is committed to finding openings and opportunities within our traditions to further the work of reconciliation.
This work is important because 1) in the name of Jesus, the church in Canada colluded with the State to remove children from their homes and communities in order to "kill the Indian in the child"; 2) for the sake of the gospel, Canadian Christians need to know our history and be given the opportunity to repent of our misdeeds; and 3) for the sake of reconciliation (the primary task of Jesus our Saviour) we must examine and renounce the doctrines and traditions that allowed us to justify and perpetuate this sin against our brothers and sisters.
In South Africa during apartheid, a group of theologians across a variety of denominations got together and wrote a document renouncing the practice of apartheid and the church doctrines and traditions that supported it (see http://www.sahistory.org.za/article/kairos-document-1985-0#.TyWPM8ikeOI.mailto). Survivors of Indian Residential Schools in Canada are asking that the same thing be done here.
Monday, February 27, 2012
The Deserving Poor
(originally posted on Beth's personal blog)
Not long ago, I read a blog that raised an interesting question: why do Christians and churches in North America tend to give more to the poor overseas (especially to Africa and to places where natural disasters have occurred) than to the poor in their own cities?
Robb Davis, the writer of the blog I read, thinks it has very little to do with the fact that overseas poor people are poorer than our poor people. He thinks it has more to do with the fact that we generally see overseas poor people as deserving, and our own poor people as undeserving, or at least less deserving. I tend to agree.
Whether or not we care to admit it, I think we all have a subconscious scale of who really deserves our help (money, mission trips, prayers, attention). It probably looks something like this:
MOST DESERVING
Children born into poverty in third-world countries
Victims of natural disasters
Adults in third-world countries
Prostituted women in other countries, trafficked into North America
Children born into poverty in North America
Adults in North America who have lost their jobs due to the recession
Adults in North America who have never had stable jobs
Prostituted women born in North America
Drug addicts
Drug dealers and other criminals
Sex offenders
LEAST DESERVING
Ok, maybe that list is splitting hairs a bit. But I do think we have this natural tendency to decide who deserves our help based on how much we think their choices led them into their circumstances, that is to say, based on how much we think their poverty is their fault. Children
in Africa definitely didn't choose to be born into malnourished,
war-torn environments where they will receive little education and few
opportunities. We have no qualms about helping them. Natural disasters
are nobody's fault (or the developed world's fault, if you consider
climate change), so we're definitely supposed to help those people.
Trafficked women were kidnapped or tricked into prostitution, so they're
deserving - the worst we could accuse them of is naivete.
But prostitutes in my neighbourhood? The popular opinion is that they're choosing to do that work. And probably choosing it because they need to fund their drug addictions, and it's their fault that they're addicted. No one forced them to do drugs. And look at all the social assistance programs and advantages they have! They get an education and plenty of opportunities like everyone else in North America. So if they're still poor, obviously they lack initiative; they're just working the system, choosing to remain poor and taking welfare money from hard-working middle class people. Why would we enable their bad choices by giving them more hand-outs?
This sounds harsh, and most of us don't go that far in our thinking, but believe me, when I am dumb enough to read the comments on online news articles about the DTES, I see far more scathing opinions about the poor people in my neighbourhood.
I have begun to learn the real meaning of "choice" in the midst of the oppressive and degrading structural inequity that most people in my neighbourhood face. Just this week I met a woman, who has likely been prostituted, in recovery for her addiction, using our hard-earned tax dollars. She shared with me that she had been in twenty-four different foster homes over the course of her life. Yes, she got an education... in fourteen different schools. "Never really fit anywhere," she said. No kidding. The choices she has had to make and odds she has overcome just to get into recovery far outweigh any of my good life choices as a middle-class, stable-familied Masters-educated white girl.
So in light of this, who deserves our help? Who deserves our love? Who deserves our self-sacrificial giving?
In her book "Jesus Freak," Sara Miles tells a story about hosting a group of grade four kids at her church's food pantry program, and some of the questions they raised. They were concerned that some people who came to get food didn't really need it, or were cheating and taking too much. Like many adults, these kids didn't want anyone to take advantage of the church's generosity. Here's what Sara writes:
"I talked with the kids about the idea of “taking advantage,” explaining that it was impossible to be taken advantage of as long as you were giving something away without conditions. “If it's a trade, than it's fair or unfair,” I said. “But if I'm going to give it to you anyway, not matter what you do, then you can't take advantage of me.”
“How many of you have ever taken the best piece for yourself, or stolen something?” I asked, raising my own hand. Slowly, every hand went up.
“How many of you have ever been generous and given something away?” Every hand went up.
“Yeah,” I said, “You know, poor people cheat and steal and are really annoying. Just like rich people. Just like you. And poor people are generous and kind and help strangers. Just like rich people. Just like you.... In my church, we say that judgment belongs to God, not to humans. So that makes things a lot easier for us. We don't have to decide who deserves food.” (37)
I think Sarah Miles is on to something here. All of us do beautiful things and awful things, simply by virtue of being human. Yes, poor people in Canada cheat and steal. Poor people in Africa also cheat and steal, as I just confirmed in a conversation with a friend of mine who works in Darfur. Regardless of nationality, people who have been repeatedly abandoned and betrayed by others get used to cheating and stealing to survive. And yes, rich people cheat and steal, in ways that are often rewarded by society. All of us are sinners and letdowns, even the "noble" poor in the World Vision commercials. It's just that we're close enough to the poor in Canada to see their shadow sides. And they're close enough to make us feel very uncomfortable and guilty, and we can't just change the channel to push them out of our view.
Now, I do think we need to think carefully about the ways we try to help the poor, whether they're here or overseas, because our methods can often decrease their dignity and self-worth and increase their predisposition to want to cheat the system. Peter Maurin, a good friend of Dorothy Day's, said that we need to strive to make the kind of society in which it is easier for people to be good. This is a society in which we assume the best of one another, strive to see the image of God in one another, draw out each other's gifts and skills, love each other unconditionally over the long term, and uphold each other's dignity. In that society, no one will want to cheat the system, because they will belong; they will know they are needed, and they will have what they need.
This
past Wednesday night at our worship service at Jacob's Well, a friend
of mine did something that is really quite strange. She drew a cross on
my forehead with ashes and told me that I was made of dust, and that
one day I would die. She did the exact same thing to everyone in the
circle, all of us, rich and poor... all of us bags of ashes and water,
all of us sinners and sinned-against, all of us selfish screw-ups... all
of us unable to be good on our own, unable even to sustain our own
lives... all of us undeserving...
...all of us created in the image of God, the grateful recipients of unearned and undeserved grace, of each new day and each next breath...all of us empowered and sent to care for one another and to share with one another and to be healed and sanctified together.
So, all of us - let's share what we have with everyone who needs it, in Africa, in Japan, in Canada, in the DTES, whether or not we think they deserve it. And let's love each other so much that we want to be better people, in the knowledge that we'll never be good enough to deserve the love and grace God seems to want to keep lavishing on us.
Not long ago, I read a blog that raised an interesting question: why do Christians and churches in North America tend to give more to the poor overseas (especially to Africa and to places where natural disasters have occurred) than to the poor in their own cities?
Robb Davis, the writer of the blog I read, thinks it has very little to do with the fact that overseas poor people are poorer than our poor people. He thinks it has more to do with the fact that we generally see overseas poor people as deserving, and our own poor people as undeserving, or at least less deserving. I tend to agree.
Whether or not we care to admit it, I think we all have a subconscious scale of who really deserves our help (money, mission trips, prayers, attention). It probably looks something like this:
MOST DESERVING
Children born into poverty in third-world countries
Victims of natural disasters
Adults in third-world countries
Prostituted women in other countries, trafficked into North America
Children born into poverty in North America
Adults in North America who have lost their jobs due to the recession
Adults in North America who have never had stable jobs
Prostituted women born in North America
Drug addicts
Drug dealers and other criminals
Sex offenders
LEAST DESERVING
But prostitutes in my neighbourhood? The popular opinion is that they're choosing to do that work. And probably choosing it because they need to fund their drug addictions, and it's their fault that they're addicted. No one forced them to do drugs. And look at all the social assistance programs and advantages they have! They get an education and plenty of opportunities like everyone else in North America. So if they're still poor, obviously they lack initiative; they're just working the system, choosing to remain poor and taking welfare money from hard-working middle class people. Why would we enable their bad choices by giving them more hand-outs?
This sounds harsh, and most of us don't go that far in our thinking, but believe me, when I am dumb enough to read the comments on online news articles about the DTES, I see far more scathing opinions about the poor people in my neighbourhood.
I have begun to learn the real meaning of "choice" in the midst of the oppressive and degrading structural inequity that most people in my neighbourhood face. Just this week I met a woman, who has likely been prostituted, in recovery for her addiction, using our hard-earned tax dollars. She shared with me that she had been in twenty-four different foster homes over the course of her life. Yes, she got an education... in fourteen different schools. "Never really fit anywhere," she said. No kidding. The choices she has had to make and odds she has overcome just to get into recovery far outweigh any of my good life choices as a middle-class, stable-familied Masters-educated white girl.
So in light of this, who deserves our help? Who deserves our love? Who deserves our self-sacrificial giving? In her book "Jesus Freak," Sara Miles tells a story about hosting a group of grade four kids at her church's food pantry program, and some of the questions they raised. They were concerned that some people who came to get food didn't really need it, or were cheating and taking too much. Like many adults, these kids didn't want anyone to take advantage of the church's generosity. Here's what Sara writes:
"I talked with the kids about the idea of “taking advantage,” explaining that it was impossible to be taken advantage of as long as you were giving something away without conditions. “If it's a trade, than it's fair or unfair,” I said. “But if I'm going to give it to you anyway, not matter what you do, then you can't take advantage of me.”
“How many of you have ever taken the best piece for yourself, or stolen something?” I asked, raising my own hand. Slowly, every hand went up.
“How many of you have ever been generous and given something away?” Every hand went up.
“Yeah,” I said, “You know, poor people cheat and steal and are really annoying. Just like rich people. Just like you. And poor people are generous and kind and help strangers. Just like rich people. Just like you.... In my church, we say that judgment belongs to God, not to humans. So that makes things a lot easier for us. We don't have to decide who deserves food.” (37)
I think Sarah Miles is on to something here. All of us do beautiful things and awful things, simply by virtue of being human. Yes, poor people in Canada cheat and steal. Poor people in Africa also cheat and steal, as I just confirmed in a conversation with a friend of mine who works in Darfur. Regardless of nationality, people who have been repeatedly abandoned and betrayed by others get used to cheating and stealing to survive. And yes, rich people cheat and steal, in ways that are often rewarded by society. All of us are sinners and letdowns, even the "noble" poor in the World Vision commercials. It's just that we're close enough to the poor in Canada to see their shadow sides. And they're close enough to make us feel very uncomfortable and guilty, and we can't just change the channel to push them out of our view.
Now, I do think we need to think carefully about the ways we try to help the poor, whether they're here or overseas, because our methods can often decrease their dignity and self-worth and increase their predisposition to want to cheat the system. Peter Maurin, a good friend of Dorothy Day's, said that we need to strive to make the kind of society in which it is easier for people to be good. This is a society in which we assume the best of one another, strive to see the image of God in one another, draw out each other's gifts and skills, love each other unconditionally over the long term, and uphold each other's dignity. In that society, no one will want to cheat the system, because they will belong; they will know they are needed, and they will have what they need.
...all of us created in the image of God, the grateful recipients of unearned and undeserved grace, of each new day and each next breath...all of us empowered and sent to care for one another and to share with one another and to be healed and sanctified together.
So, all of us - let's share what we have with everyone who needs it, in Africa, in Japan, in Canada, in the DTES, whether or not we think they deserve it. And let's love each other so much that we want to be better people, in the knowledge that we'll never be good enough to deserve the love and grace God seems to want to keep lavishing on us.
Tales of an up-and-coming Fancy Dancer
(originally posted on Beth's personal blog)
Every Monday night since July, I have been trying out a new activity: First Nations traditional dance classes.
(Well, it hasn't been every Monday night... I took a bit of a break from dance after I stepped on a sea urchin while on vacation, but that's for another blog entry.)
I will say this up front: I am the whitest regular attender of the drop-in class. Last Monday, several new people joined us, so we did the customary go-around-the-circle-and-say-your-name thing, but we were also asked to share our tribal background. There were Miqmaqs and Plains Crees, two Squamish girls, a Haida woman, a Gitxzan, and a few people from Tsawwassen nation. When it was my turn, I said, "I'm Beth, and I am British/Irish/Swedish/Czech."
I am not only the whitest dancer, but also possibly the dancer with the least natural talent for dance. Sure, I can move in time with a piece of music, but I have always lacked the confidence required to do it creatively and convincingly. For much of my life, I have avoided school dances, and have made awkward small talk with other non-dancers during wedding receptions.
My whiteness and my lack of dance training combined to produce a fair amount of anxiety the first night I headed out toward the Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre for dance class. As I walked, I rehearsed the reasons why I was going.
I need exercise.
The Friendship Centre is only a fifteen-minute walk from my house.
The classes are free.
Those
reasons were convincing (especially the last one, on a low-income
pastor's budget), but they could apply to a lot of other potential
activities. They were not adequate to get me through the doors of the
Friendship Centre.
I was invited to the class. That was a better reason. The teacher, who was fancy dancing at a National Aboriginal Day celebration put on by a local church, had invited the whole crowd to come to her class. But I could still rationalize that the invitation wasn't specifically intended for a white non-dancer like me.
I tried to think of another reason. I love to watch fancy dancing. Fancy dancing drew me in from the first time I saw it, in Saskatoon, during my undergrad years. I watched, dumbstruck, as the colorful ribbons of the dancers' shawls spun around them. They seemed to spend more time in the air than on the ground, traveling by tiptoe, their feet stepping deftly, as though the grass under them were actually a bed of hot coals. Perhaps if I enjoyed watching it, I would also enjoy doing it. Still, I had little faith I could reproduce such beautiful and free movement.
Thankfully, there was one more reason I had for learning to fancy dance, and this was the reason that pushed me over the edge: I
believe I have a responsibility to protect and appreciate the cultures
of my brothers and sisters, especially if those cultures have been
denigrated, or threatened with assimilation and extinction.
I co-pastor a predominantly low-income First Nations congregation in a neighbourhood that is home to one of Canada's largest off-reserve Aboriginal populations. About a century ago, my people tried to take away the dances of their peoples; we called them evil and outlawed them in the name of Jesus. We tried to rob them of many of the ways they worshiped their Creator and expressed their uniqueness. We cut their hair, changed their names, and muted their languages. It was only by their ingenuity and collective memory that they kept these cultural elements alive. Today, some First Nations languages and practices are still very much in danger of extinction.
I have a responsibility to protect these cultures by virtue of being human, but even more so as a human who claims to follow Christ. I believe that what my people did was sinful and unjust. My Creator loves variety and values culture. His plan for humanity is not for us to merge into a monoculture, but for all the kings and nations of the earth to march (or maybe dance!) into the holy city in our glorious diversity, bringing all our splendor (Rev. 21:24).
I did not think that learning to fancy dance would in any way undo the damage caused by my people. I did, however, hope that it would take me a few steps closer to appreciating and understanding the beautiful culture I sought to protect in the name of Christ. Besides, the slight discomfort and embarrassment I might feel as a white girl in dance class would, at most, be a small taste of the many marginalizing experiences most First Nations people face daily.
It
turned out that my first dance class wasn't nearly as awkward as I
expected. Rather than explaining the steps, the teacher stood in front
of me and demonstrated them over and over, which is a typically First
Nations way of teaching. She told me to keep trying them for the next
hour of dancing. I left exhausted but exhilarated. It took me a full
month to get a feel for the heartbeat of the drum, and many more months
before I was able to combine the steps more creatively. Now, I notice
myself loosening up and relaxing. I am even making a couple of
friends.
I am always ready to share my reasons for learning to fancy dance. Yet to this day, not a single person at dance class has asked me why a pale-faced redhead would keep showing up. Maybe in the future they will pop the question, but for now, they simply accept me as a fellow learner, laughing complaining with me during the warm-up abdominal exercises, and poking fun at me when I fail once again to anticipate the ending of a song. It is a privilege to be so welcomed, and to work with them to preserve and promote something so beautiful.
Watch for me on the pow wow circuit years down the road. I'll be the one blinding you with my white skin and my boss moves.
Every Monday night since July, I have been trying out a new activity: First Nations traditional dance classes.(Well, it hasn't been every Monday night... I took a bit of a break from dance after I stepped on a sea urchin while on vacation, but that's for another blog entry.)
I will say this up front: I am the whitest regular attender of the drop-in class. Last Monday, several new people joined us, so we did the customary go-around-the-circle-and-say-your-name thing, but we were also asked to share our tribal background. There were Miqmaqs and Plains Crees, two Squamish girls, a Haida woman, a Gitxzan, and a few people from Tsawwassen nation. When it was my turn, I said, "I'm Beth, and I am British/Irish/Swedish/Czech."
I am not only the whitest dancer, but also possibly the dancer with the least natural talent for dance. Sure, I can move in time with a piece of music, but I have always lacked the confidence required to do it creatively and convincingly. For much of my life, I have avoided school dances, and have made awkward small talk with other non-dancers during wedding receptions.
My whiteness and my lack of dance training combined to produce a fair amount of anxiety the first night I headed out toward the Vancouver Aboriginal Friendship Centre for dance class. As I walked, I rehearsed the reasons why I was going.
I need exercise.
The Friendship Centre is only a fifteen-minute walk from my house.
The classes are free.
Those
reasons were convincing (especially the last one, on a low-income
pastor's budget), but they could apply to a lot of other potential
activities. They were not adequate to get me through the doors of the
Friendship Centre.I was invited to the class. That was a better reason. The teacher, who was fancy dancing at a National Aboriginal Day celebration put on by a local church, had invited the whole crowd to come to her class. But I could still rationalize that the invitation wasn't specifically intended for a white non-dancer like me.
I tried to think of another reason. I love to watch fancy dancing. Fancy dancing drew me in from the first time I saw it, in Saskatoon, during my undergrad years. I watched, dumbstruck, as the colorful ribbons of the dancers' shawls spun around them. They seemed to spend more time in the air than on the ground, traveling by tiptoe, their feet stepping deftly, as though the grass under them were actually a bed of hot coals. Perhaps if I enjoyed watching it, I would also enjoy doing it. Still, I had little faith I could reproduce such beautiful and free movement.
Thankfully, there was one more reason I had for learning to fancy dance, and this was the reason that pushed me over the edge: I
believe I have a responsibility to protect and appreciate the cultures
of my brothers and sisters, especially if those cultures have been
denigrated, or threatened with assimilation and extinction. I co-pastor a predominantly low-income First Nations congregation in a neighbourhood that is home to one of Canada's largest off-reserve Aboriginal populations. About a century ago, my people tried to take away the dances of their peoples; we called them evil and outlawed them in the name of Jesus. We tried to rob them of many of the ways they worshiped their Creator and expressed their uniqueness. We cut their hair, changed their names, and muted their languages. It was only by their ingenuity and collective memory that they kept these cultural elements alive. Today, some First Nations languages and practices are still very much in danger of extinction.
I have a responsibility to protect these cultures by virtue of being human, but even more so as a human who claims to follow Christ. I believe that what my people did was sinful and unjust. My Creator loves variety and values culture. His plan for humanity is not for us to merge into a monoculture, but for all the kings and nations of the earth to march (or maybe dance!) into the holy city in our glorious diversity, bringing all our splendor (Rev. 21:24).
I did not think that learning to fancy dance would in any way undo the damage caused by my people. I did, however, hope that it would take me a few steps closer to appreciating and understanding the beautiful culture I sought to protect in the name of Christ. Besides, the slight discomfort and embarrassment I might feel as a white girl in dance class would, at most, be a small taste of the many marginalizing experiences most First Nations people face daily.
It
turned out that my first dance class wasn't nearly as awkward as I
expected. Rather than explaining the steps, the teacher stood in front
of me and demonstrated them over and over, which is a typically First
Nations way of teaching. She told me to keep trying them for the next
hour of dancing. I left exhausted but exhilarated. It took me a full
month to get a feel for the heartbeat of the drum, and many more months
before I was able to combine the steps more creatively. Now, I notice
myself loosening up and relaxing. I am even making a couple of
friends. I am always ready to share my reasons for learning to fancy dance. Yet to this day, not a single person at dance class has asked me why a pale-faced redhead would keep showing up. Maybe in the future they will pop the question, but for now, they simply accept me as a fellow learner, laughing complaining with me during the warm-up abdominal exercises, and poking fun at me when I fail once again to anticipate the ending of a song. It is a privilege to be so welcomed, and to work with them to preserve and promote something so beautiful.
Watch for me on the pow wow circuit years down the road. I'll be the one blinding you with my white skin and my boss moves.
A video of one of my teachers fancy dancing.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
8th Fire
Beth here. Just wanted to draw your attention to a new show on CBC profiling the experiences and realities of First Nations people in Canada. It's called "8th Fire." I watched the first episode, and I found it quite visually engaging, educational, challenging, and balanced. Highly recommended by me!
You can watch it on CBC on Thursdays at 9:00 pm, or you can watch it online whenever you want - just click on the photo below to find the links.
You can watch it on CBC on Thursdays at 9:00 pm, or you can watch it online whenever you want - just click on the photo below to find the links.
Monday, January 16, 2012
A Year in Review
2011 was evidently not a great year for blogging for us. Sorry about that. We have been busy, and we are still learning which makes it hard sometimes to make sense of what we are learning enough to talk about it. So thanks for your patience with us. We are trying to do better in this area.
Highlights of 2011:
We are celebrating almost one whole year of stable locations for our Sunday gatherings. We continue to meet outside in the warmer weather and consider this our "true home" in many ways. It is such a joy to worship in public space and watch how creative God can be in drawing people in. Mission Possible, a local mission group extended hospitality to us last February and using their space has been an extraordinary gift. We are able to accommodate a wide range of groupings and use of their industrial kitchen has added much to our life together. We have even been able to partner on occasion, including this past Christmas Eve (pic. of Christmas Eve band above).
This Easter on a cold rainy afternoon we celebrated our first baptism.
Our summer was dominated by two themes. First, Red Clover Farm where we had our first year, start to finish, of managing the entirety of the farm. The space continues to be a source of joy, connection, sharing and learning. We are considering how to best steward this gift in the coming year, perhaps looking to generate some income from the farm.
Last spring the children put together an interactive production of the Exodus story to top off our series on that book. This year as we began our preparations to tell a story from Daniel the kids said, "let's make it be 4D like our one last year, cause that was really cool." We did enjoy a dollar store stock of plague-like toys that we could throw at the audience at appropriate times. This year's fiery furnace might prove a little more challenging...unless I can get my neighbour who breathes fire to join us!
In a neighbourhood where time is largely punctuated by the rhythms of welfare distribution days it has been fun to have children and adults alike begin to comment, "hey, we did that last year!" as the rythm of the church year begins to permeate our lives.
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