Ceremonies
23/07/16 05:17
With each succeeding generation the labels that marked Americans have less meaning. At one time the country was divided into two groups: indigenous and immigrant. Most of the immigrant people came as a result of the policies of colonizing countries. Then relationships between the groups produced a new generation that didn’t have their feet firmly in either camp. I have settlers on both sides of my family, but they wouldn’t have accepted the label of colonizers. Their coming to this continent was far more defined by what they were leaving behind than by a sense of political or economic gain from their adopted country. Since arriving on this continent, my family took a couple of different paths. Some of us have moved nearly every generation. Others have stayed put. I have cousins who are the sixth generation on the family farm. I have never lived in one location for more than 21 years, though this home promises to be my place for a few more.
Although it isn’t part of my heritage, there is the whole category of people who came to this continent against their will. African slaves didn’t choose this country as their home. They didn’t come here out of their own greed or desire for power. They didn’t come here with disregard for those who were already here. Their grandchildren and great grandchildren have a unique perspective on land and location.
As time goes by attitudes change and people are transformed. There are those whose ancestry is distinctly colonial who have learned about and adopted some of the indigenous ways. There are people who are indigenous by heritage who have become educated and successful in the ways of the dominant society. And there are all sorts of people whose lives carry aspects and parts of a wide variety of traditions and heritages.
Not long ago I had a conversation with a Lakota person who was speaking of the power of ceremonies. He speculated that the enduring ceremonies of colonist society (his term, not mine) are not based on the land. They are based on family and culture - on things that are portable from one place to another. Indigenous people, on the other hand, according to my friend, have ceremonies for the land and for the plants and animals that are a part of the land. Although his generalization is probably exaggerated to make the point, there is truth in it.
Our faith has its roots in migration. The deepest stories of our Hebrew Scripture came from the wanderings of Abraham and Sarah when they left the land of their ancestors and struck out for a new place to live. Even after the Exodus from Egypt and the occupation of the promised land, our people kept the ark of the covenant as a portable place of worship until the time of Solomon. The sacraments of the Christian church don’t depend on a particular place. A bit of water, a drop of juice and a morsel of bread - these are all we need to experience the holy in ceremony. Our ceremonies are indeed portable. I’ve celebrated them in hospital room and private home, outdoors and indoors, in churches and chapels and jail cells and a host of different locations.
Still, I recognize the power of sacred place. I’ve hiked to the top of Bear Butte with my children. I’ve walked the trail around the base of the rock the settlers renamed “Devil’s Tower,” known to indigenous people as the place (or home) of the bear. In other lands, I’ve visited cathedrals and hiked along the base of Uluru. I’ve gazed out at the ocean from the headlands and I’ve hiked in the midst of glorious mountains. There are places where I go to feel connected to my parents and the generations who have gone before. I do not deny the power of place and the sacred nature of ceremonies derived from the land. And, with my indigenous brothers and sisters, I grieve over some of the senseless destruction of the land and its native creatures in the service of greed and consumption.
I have participated in some of the ceremonies of Lakota people at their invitation. My traditions are not theirs and I do not pretend to be any kind of an expert, but I understand the importance of ceremonies. I have felt the cleansing power of the aroma of burning sage and sweetgrass. I have been cleansed in the sacred Inipi, also known as sweat lodge. I have witnessed the granting of a feather in celebration of the accomplishments of outstanding youth. I have greeted the new day with thanksgiving and the gift of tobacco in symbolic gratitude for the gifts of creation. That participation, however, does not make me indigenous. I am by tradition and choice a wanderer - in some sense forever immigrant.
I suspect that all of the different cultures who share this land have a yearning for new ceremonies. Our children are, in many ways, disconnected from their heritage. They don’t know the traditional ways. This is as true of children raised as Christians as it is of children raised in indigenous ways. I frequently work with people on the occasion of a wedding or of the funeral of a loved one who are not familiar with the age-old traditions and ways of the church. They are often surprised at the power of ceremonies that have been practiced for generations. I am not discounting the value of new ceremonies, but I know that my role lies in the practice of traditional ceremonies. Furthermore, I often find that so-called “new” ceremonies, are more frequently rediscoveries of ancient ceremonies and ways. I’ve been known to quip that the one thing about “New Age” religion is that it isn’t new. The discovery of practices that have a long and honored tradition can be enlightening, but it is not the creation of something that is truly new.
We all are in search of meaning. The ceremonies that are most empowering are the ones that welcome all people into their practice without distinctions based on heritage, ethnicity, culture and other divisions. As I remain open to new ceremonies and possibilities, I continue to offer the sacraments of our church to all who come.
Although it isn’t part of my heritage, there is the whole category of people who came to this continent against their will. African slaves didn’t choose this country as their home. They didn’t come here out of their own greed or desire for power. They didn’t come here with disregard for those who were already here. Their grandchildren and great grandchildren have a unique perspective on land and location.
As time goes by attitudes change and people are transformed. There are those whose ancestry is distinctly colonial who have learned about and adopted some of the indigenous ways. There are people who are indigenous by heritage who have become educated and successful in the ways of the dominant society. And there are all sorts of people whose lives carry aspects and parts of a wide variety of traditions and heritages.
Not long ago I had a conversation with a Lakota person who was speaking of the power of ceremonies. He speculated that the enduring ceremonies of colonist society (his term, not mine) are not based on the land. They are based on family and culture - on things that are portable from one place to another. Indigenous people, on the other hand, according to my friend, have ceremonies for the land and for the plants and animals that are a part of the land. Although his generalization is probably exaggerated to make the point, there is truth in it.
Our faith has its roots in migration. The deepest stories of our Hebrew Scripture came from the wanderings of Abraham and Sarah when they left the land of their ancestors and struck out for a new place to live. Even after the Exodus from Egypt and the occupation of the promised land, our people kept the ark of the covenant as a portable place of worship until the time of Solomon. The sacraments of the Christian church don’t depend on a particular place. A bit of water, a drop of juice and a morsel of bread - these are all we need to experience the holy in ceremony. Our ceremonies are indeed portable. I’ve celebrated them in hospital room and private home, outdoors and indoors, in churches and chapels and jail cells and a host of different locations.
Still, I recognize the power of sacred place. I’ve hiked to the top of Bear Butte with my children. I’ve walked the trail around the base of the rock the settlers renamed “Devil’s Tower,” known to indigenous people as the place (or home) of the bear. In other lands, I’ve visited cathedrals and hiked along the base of Uluru. I’ve gazed out at the ocean from the headlands and I’ve hiked in the midst of glorious mountains. There are places where I go to feel connected to my parents and the generations who have gone before. I do not deny the power of place and the sacred nature of ceremonies derived from the land. And, with my indigenous brothers and sisters, I grieve over some of the senseless destruction of the land and its native creatures in the service of greed and consumption.
I have participated in some of the ceremonies of Lakota people at their invitation. My traditions are not theirs and I do not pretend to be any kind of an expert, but I understand the importance of ceremonies. I have felt the cleansing power of the aroma of burning sage and sweetgrass. I have been cleansed in the sacred Inipi, also known as sweat lodge. I have witnessed the granting of a feather in celebration of the accomplishments of outstanding youth. I have greeted the new day with thanksgiving and the gift of tobacco in symbolic gratitude for the gifts of creation. That participation, however, does not make me indigenous. I am by tradition and choice a wanderer - in some sense forever immigrant.
I suspect that all of the different cultures who share this land have a yearning for new ceremonies. Our children are, in many ways, disconnected from their heritage. They don’t know the traditional ways. This is as true of children raised as Christians as it is of children raised in indigenous ways. I frequently work with people on the occasion of a wedding or of the funeral of a loved one who are not familiar with the age-old traditions and ways of the church. They are often surprised at the power of ceremonies that have been practiced for generations. I am not discounting the value of new ceremonies, but I know that my role lies in the practice of traditional ceremonies. Furthermore, I often find that so-called “new” ceremonies, are more frequently rediscoveries of ancient ceremonies and ways. I’ve been known to quip that the one thing about “New Age” religion is that it isn’t new. The discovery of practices that have a long and honored tradition can be enlightening, but it is not the creation of something that is truly new.
We all are in search of meaning. The ceremonies that are most empowering are the ones that welcome all people into their practice without distinctions based on heritage, ethnicity, culture and other divisions. As I remain open to new ceremonies and possibilities, I continue to offer the sacraments of our church to all who come.