A Place of Welcome
14/09/14 05:05
There are a lot of places where I hear the term “Native American” replacing the old term “Indian” as a generic term for all of the indigenous people of North America. I suppose that there are places where the use of this term is appropriate, but the problem is that the people who inhabited this continent before the arrival of European settlers were not one united group of people with a single language and consistent cultural traditions. Although history and circumstance have handed them some shared experiences, the people were members of many different tribes with different cultures, different languages and different religions. It seems more appropriate most of the time to speak of individual tribes. And even then, there can be much variation within the tribe. Using “Sioux” to refer to all people of Lakota, Dakota and Nakota bands doesn’t facilitate understanding. In the first place “Sioux” is not the name they chose for themselves. It is an adaptation of the word the Cree and Chipewan people used to speak of them, which was somewhat misunderstood by French fur trappers and ended up being the generic term applied to members of the allies. Their chosen name is Lakota, Dakota or Nakota. It is the same word with three different consonantal pronunciations, depending on which language subgroup is speaking. These days I have friends who use Lakota or Dakota to describe all of the members of the various tribes, without understanding that there are different tribes with different identities. Even within the Lakota language group there are tribes. These subtitles take time to learn. But they help one to understand the people.
I have a friend who is Sicangu on his mother’s side and Oglala on his father’s side of his family. He grew up on the reservation of his mother’s people, the Rosebud, though he is also very familiar with Pine Ridge, the home of his father’s people. Although there are official boundaries between the two reservations, the lives and spirits of the people are not restrained by the lines drawn up by 18th and 19th century Indian Agents. There are, however, un-healed wounds left from those days and the stories of broken treaties and abuse of the people are well-known and often repeated.
These days, there are many struggles for family and identity and wholeness and healing among the people who live in Mission and Martin and Porcupine. The suicide rate in South Dakota is about 2.5 times the national average. The rate on reservations is even higher. and most years the rate on the Rosebud is highest of all of the regions of South Dakota. It seems like there isn’t any family left on the Rosebud who hasn’t been touched by suicide. And most families, like the one of my friend, have had multiple suicides mixed in amongst the other deaths, some natural, some from preventable disease, some from accidents. There is a lot of grief work going on in his family and amongst their neighbors. I met my friend’s mother in the emergency room of the hospital where we were keeping watch over the body of one of there other sons, who died by self-hanging. It was a time of great stress and sadness around four years ago. In the years that have intervened, we have seen each other from time to time. Often the place of our meeting has been our church, where members of the family come to attend a survivors of suicide support group. Yesterday, we were gathered together for our annual Suicide Survivors Day. We had moved our recognition from the federal day of recognition, which is the Saturday before Thanksgiving to the week for suicide prevention declared by our governor. It was a time for more healing.
There is something she said during the meeting that rings in my ears. She thanked the organizers for choosing a “safe place” for our meeting, where people could talk and where differences of culture and religion were honored. I love it when someone describes our church that way.
Later yesterday as we were unwinding in my office after a long and difficult day, following a wedding, we were visiting with a violinist from Boston who was visiting Rapid City for her husband’s upcoming concert and to be with his family. She has been rehearsing in our building during the week. She thanked us for the use of the building and commented on the “welcome feeling” of the place. She said that she could feel the strong spirit of our church the minute she walked into the door. It was, she said, more than beautiful architecture. It was the spirit of the people who she has met, who were warm and welcoming. I love it when someone describes our church that way.
The bottom line is that our church isn’t just “ours.” It belongs to the community and to our neighbors and to all of the people we serve. The couple at yesterday’s wedding and reception are not members of our congregation. Many of their guests had never been in our building before. They chose our building because it was accessible to family members who use wheelchairs for mobility and open to providing support for persons with disabilities.As we planned the wedding, we got to know each other and formed a strong bond. I don’t yet know whether or not they will one day become members. I do know that they will never forget the warm welcome extended by our congregation and the gracious service of those who prepared the space, helped decorate, served food and washed dishes for their reception. They won’t forget the way they felt on their wedding day.
We belong to the community we serve. That has been true of our congregation for 135 years. And to the extent that we remember our purpose, it will be true for the next century and beyond. Even though much of my days are focused on institutional maintenance - keeping the budget balanced and the building repaired - the real spirit of the place is the spirit of the people.
I will long remember yesterday - a day of welcome when the members of our congregation came to the building to serve others and the guests outnumbered those who are official members. I will remember what our guests said about the safety and welcome of our church.
it is who we are.
I have a friend who is Sicangu on his mother’s side and Oglala on his father’s side of his family. He grew up on the reservation of his mother’s people, the Rosebud, though he is also very familiar with Pine Ridge, the home of his father’s people. Although there are official boundaries between the two reservations, the lives and spirits of the people are not restrained by the lines drawn up by 18th and 19th century Indian Agents. There are, however, un-healed wounds left from those days and the stories of broken treaties and abuse of the people are well-known and often repeated.
These days, there are many struggles for family and identity and wholeness and healing among the people who live in Mission and Martin and Porcupine. The suicide rate in South Dakota is about 2.5 times the national average. The rate on reservations is even higher. and most years the rate on the Rosebud is highest of all of the regions of South Dakota. It seems like there isn’t any family left on the Rosebud who hasn’t been touched by suicide. And most families, like the one of my friend, have had multiple suicides mixed in amongst the other deaths, some natural, some from preventable disease, some from accidents. There is a lot of grief work going on in his family and amongst their neighbors. I met my friend’s mother in the emergency room of the hospital where we were keeping watch over the body of one of there other sons, who died by self-hanging. It was a time of great stress and sadness around four years ago. In the years that have intervened, we have seen each other from time to time. Often the place of our meeting has been our church, where members of the family come to attend a survivors of suicide support group. Yesterday, we were gathered together for our annual Suicide Survivors Day. We had moved our recognition from the federal day of recognition, which is the Saturday before Thanksgiving to the week for suicide prevention declared by our governor. It was a time for more healing.
There is something she said during the meeting that rings in my ears. She thanked the organizers for choosing a “safe place” for our meeting, where people could talk and where differences of culture and religion were honored. I love it when someone describes our church that way.
Later yesterday as we were unwinding in my office after a long and difficult day, following a wedding, we were visiting with a violinist from Boston who was visiting Rapid City for her husband’s upcoming concert and to be with his family. She has been rehearsing in our building during the week. She thanked us for the use of the building and commented on the “welcome feeling” of the place. She said that she could feel the strong spirit of our church the minute she walked into the door. It was, she said, more than beautiful architecture. It was the spirit of the people who she has met, who were warm and welcoming. I love it when someone describes our church that way.
The bottom line is that our church isn’t just “ours.” It belongs to the community and to our neighbors and to all of the people we serve. The couple at yesterday’s wedding and reception are not members of our congregation. Many of their guests had never been in our building before. They chose our building because it was accessible to family members who use wheelchairs for mobility and open to providing support for persons with disabilities.As we planned the wedding, we got to know each other and formed a strong bond. I don’t yet know whether or not they will one day become members. I do know that they will never forget the warm welcome extended by our congregation and the gracious service of those who prepared the space, helped decorate, served food and washed dishes for their reception. They won’t forget the way they felt on their wedding day.
We belong to the community we serve. That has been true of our congregation for 135 years. And to the extent that we remember our purpose, it will be true for the next century and beyond. Even though much of my days are focused on institutional maintenance - keeping the budget balanced and the building repaired - the real spirit of the place is the spirit of the people.
I will long remember yesterday - a day of welcome when the members of our congregation came to the building to serve others and the guests outnumbered those who are official members. I will remember what our guests said about the safety and welcome of our church.
it is who we are.