Sacred conversations
18/04/15 05:11
This is the fourth year that I have participated in a program of the South Dakota Conference of the United Church of Christ called “Sacred Conversations on Race.” The purpose of the program is to engage people in conversations that help to move us beyond some of the entrenched racism that permeates our society. It is important for us to talk openly about race and to confront the half truths and untruths and misperceptions that are rampant in our culture. I have made participation in these conversations a priority and have invested time and energy in them.
I am not, by nature, a pessimist, but I am a realist. I know that a handful of UCC clergy are not going to change centuries of broken relationships in one weekend a year. I know that the problems of entrenched racism are bigger than one generation. I know that change often comes in fits and starts and at an uneven pace. I know that some of the problems of our region are bigger than we are. I am, however, called to do what I am able and to reach beyond the ways of the past in the living of my life.
Sometimes working for change can be frustrating.
Sometimes our conversations drift from ourselves and the relationships in the room to other people and the misperceptions that they carry. I’ve never been very good at changing people in other places whom I’ve never met. I can be frustrated with their opinions and attitudes. I can even be disappointed at the way they vote. For me, however, what I can do is to be present and authentic in the relationships that I have. I can reach out and develop new relationships.
The story of the Woodchuck Society at our church is one to which I turn because it is a genuine grassroots attempt of people to have helpful relationships with others. In the hills, we have excess wood. There is a need for the trees to be thinned and other trees have to be removed to prevent the spread of insect infestation. In many different places on the reservations firewood is a practical solution to reduce energy costs and provide heating for homes. So our little group receives donations of logs. We cut and split them using volunteer labor and donated equipment. Then we deliver cut and split firewood to partners in several different locations on the reservation. Our partners get the wood to the people who need it. So far it is simple and the program has grown in terms of the number of participants and the amount of wood that we deliver.
Through the Woodchuck Society, we have enabled people who otherwise might not do so to make regular trips to reservation communities. We have formed relationships with some of the families who receive the firewood and with our partners who distribute it. Friendships have formed. Opportunities to make real changes have occurred. Attitudes have changed. Fears have been calmed.
From time to time our church receives a little publicity for the program. Whenever that happens expressions of support are received. We also, from time to time receive questions and criticism. A common question I hear is something like this: “Why don’t you employ Lakota people in your project? People on the reservation need jobs, not charity.”
My answer is usually pretty simple: “We don’t know how to run a jobs program. We do know how to cut and split firewood.”
The answer is rooted in my core conviction that the Woodchuck society is all about relationships. It is about the joy of working together shoulder to shoulder. It is about the depth of returning year after year to the same people and sharing meals and conversation and getting to know each other as human beings. It is about recognizing and celebrating our common humanity. We can understand the love and concern of grandparents for their grandchildren. We can laugh at shared jokes. We can learn to recognize each other when we meet in other contexts. We can provide care for one another that reaches beyond the delivery of firewood.
My belief has always been that my role is to facilitate relationships, not to be a spokesperson for my congregation on the reservation or to be a spokesperson for the reservation in my congregation. I try not to speak for others, but to get them to speak themselves.
We won’t change the world overnight. We will change it one relationship at a time.
When I was younger an perhaps a bit more idealistic than I now am, I used to wrestle with Jesus statement, “You will always have the poor with you.” I wanted to end poverty and see it go away. With more age and perhaps a bit more maturity, I have come to understand that there are many things in this world that are bigger than I. Relationships between indigenous people and settlers who are primarily from European backgrounds have been going on in our country for at least 500 years. That’s 500 years of history, some of it harsh and cruel and filled with pain. We can’t fix all of the brokenness of this history in one generation. Some problems are worthy of many generations of faithful work.
To put it simply, this isn’t about me.
That said, it remains important for each of us to do what we are able. I can’t solve the problem of jobs, but I can speak out for fairness in hiring practices in the community where I live. I can’t solve multi-generational poverty, but I can share what I have. I can’t eliminate the fear of others, but I can introduce a few folks who might develop lasting friendships.
Our congregation isn’t the solution to all of the problems of South Dakota, but we can be a place where people meet and conversations begin.
Perspective is critical when working on big problems. While I’ll continue to participate as genuinely and authentically in the Sacred Conversations on Race as long and as I am able, I am aware that back home, a group of faithful people will gather to split wood this morning. I need to keep balance in my life.
Some days I work for change with careful listening and a few words. Other days I split and stack firewood. Splitting wood may be the more noble of the tasks.
I am not, by nature, a pessimist, but I am a realist. I know that a handful of UCC clergy are not going to change centuries of broken relationships in one weekend a year. I know that the problems of entrenched racism are bigger than one generation. I know that change often comes in fits and starts and at an uneven pace. I know that some of the problems of our region are bigger than we are. I am, however, called to do what I am able and to reach beyond the ways of the past in the living of my life.
Sometimes working for change can be frustrating.
Sometimes our conversations drift from ourselves and the relationships in the room to other people and the misperceptions that they carry. I’ve never been very good at changing people in other places whom I’ve never met. I can be frustrated with their opinions and attitudes. I can even be disappointed at the way they vote. For me, however, what I can do is to be present and authentic in the relationships that I have. I can reach out and develop new relationships.
The story of the Woodchuck Society at our church is one to which I turn because it is a genuine grassroots attempt of people to have helpful relationships with others. In the hills, we have excess wood. There is a need for the trees to be thinned and other trees have to be removed to prevent the spread of insect infestation. In many different places on the reservations firewood is a practical solution to reduce energy costs and provide heating for homes. So our little group receives donations of logs. We cut and split them using volunteer labor and donated equipment. Then we deliver cut and split firewood to partners in several different locations on the reservation. Our partners get the wood to the people who need it. So far it is simple and the program has grown in terms of the number of participants and the amount of wood that we deliver.
Through the Woodchuck Society, we have enabled people who otherwise might not do so to make regular trips to reservation communities. We have formed relationships with some of the families who receive the firewood and with our partners who distribute it. Friendships have formed. Opportunities to make real changes have occurred. Attitudes have changed. Fears have been calmed.
From time to time our church receives a little publicity for the program. Whenever that happens expressions of support are received. We also, from time to time receive questions and criticism. A common question I hear is something like this: “Why don’t you employ Lakota people in your project? People on the reservation need jobs, not charity.”
My answer is usually pretty simple: “We don’t know how to run a jobs program. We do know how to cut and split firewood.”
The answer is rooted in my core conviction that the Woodchuck society is all about relationships. It is about the joy of working together shoulder to shoulder. It is about the depth of returning year after year to the same people and sharing meals and conversation and getting to know each other as human beings. It is about recognizing and celebrating our common humanity. We can understand the love and concern of grandparents for their grandchildren. We can laugh at shared jokes. We can learn to recognize each other when we meet in other contexts. We can provide care for one another that reaches beyond the delivery of firewood.
My belief has always been that my role is to facilitate relationships, not to be a spokesperson for my congregation on the reservation or to be a spokesperson for the reservation in my congregation. I try not to speak for others, but to get them to speak themselves.
We won’t change the world overnight. We will change it one relationship at a time.
When I was younger an perhaps a bit more idealistic than I now am, I used to wrestle with Jesus statement, “You will always have the poor with you.” I wanted to end poverty and see it go away. With more age and perhaps a bit more maturity, I have come to understand that there are many things in this world that are bigger than I. Relationships between indigenous people and settlers who are primarily from European backgrounds have been going on in our country for at least 500 years. That’s 500 years of history, some of it harsh and cruel and filled with pain. We can’t fix all of the brokenness of this history in one generation. Some problems are worthy of many generations of faithful work.
To put it simply, this isn’t about me.
That said, it remains important for each of us to do what we are able. I can’t solve the problem of jobs, but I can speak out for fairness in hiring practices in the community where I live. I can’t solve multi-generational poverty, but I can share what I have. I can’t eliminate the fear of others, but I can introduce a few folks who might develop lasting friendships.
Our congregation isn’t the solution to all of the problems of South Dakota, but we can be a place where people meet and conversations begin.
Perspective is critical when working on big problems. While I’ll continue to participate as genuinely and authentically in the Sacred Conversations on Race as long and as I am able, I am aware that back home, a group of faithful people will gather to split wood this morning. I need to keep balance in my life.
Some days I work for change with careful listening and a few words. Other days I split and stack firewood. Splitting wood may be the more noble of the tasks.