No Word for Goodbye

Thursday, January 29
I began today with a small group determined to finish our projects at the worksite. I am quite sore from laying flooring, but satisfied with the results. Our guest for lunch was Pinky Clifford, a store owner who has followed her passion and hope in providing native housing through Partnership for Housing. http://friendsofpineridgereservation.org/organizations/OST-Partnership-for-Housing-Inc.shtml
Her energy and hope was inspiring.

A couple classmates and I walked to a Native owned gas station for ice cream and then to Higher Ground for some good coffee. Somehow the afternoon passed by and it was time for Children's hour. It was sad to realize we wouldn't see these kids again. They grew on us, what can I say.

The evening included dinner with Asa and Tresita Wilson and a closing communion service. Asa shared that there is no word for "goodbye" in Lakota. The closest word means "until we meet again or I will see you again." I have an idea this is not an end of my visits to Pine Ridge, but rather a beginning of future meeting again.

Tomorrow we leave at 6:00am for our homes. Pray for safe journeys.

Theology of the Cross at Pine Ridge

I woke up this morning with a sore throat. Since colds have been taking people down one by one, I was not thrilled. We met as a group to open conversation and process some of what we have experienced these two weeks. Then we were off to SuAnne Big Crow Boys and Girls Club.

SuAnne was a true leader. An athlete who averaged 39 points per basketball game, one of the top four scorers in SD history. SuAnne was killed in a car accident when she was 17 years old. Her family decided to carry on her legacy of promoting drug and alcohol free lifestyle, athletic fitness, and academic excellence by creating a safe place for kids. Check out the website. It's really an amazing story. I'm surprised there isn't a Disney movie yet.

Following lunch at HappyTown at SuAnne Big Crow Boys and Girls Club, there was time for a nap to take care of myself before Children's Hour. Today we had Children's Hour, worship, and supper. We took the kids to go feed the buffalo at a neighbor's ranch. Two white buffalo calves were born to this rancher and we heard the story of the White Buffalo Calf Woman.
Some folks fed the buffalo by hand and some dared to stick the buffalo food cube in their mouths and feed them by mouth. Um, I bypassed the Buffalo Kiss option. But I have some fun pictures.

Quickly after the kids returned home, we traveled to the Boys and Girls dorms at Pine Ridge school to celebrate winter birthdays. The evening concluded with a talking circle. Whew, that is a full day.

There are so many layers and facets to the socio-political-economic-s

piritual issues and topics here. Where does one begin? I've witnessed hope rise out of tragedy in the story of SuAnne Big Crow. I've heard vision and hope in the story of White Buffalo Calf Woman bringing the prayer pipe, 7 religious rites, and the medicine wheel. I've tried to find Christ in culture and seen a Lakota Jesus in the Stations of the Cross. Now, since I am a Lutheran, it's time to talk about Theology of the Cross.

According to an article by Gerhard Forde, Theology of the Cross "is a particular perception of the world and our destiny, what Luther came to call looking at all things through suffering and the cross. It has to do with what he referred to often as the question of usus, the way the cross is put to use in our lives."

Deaths of someone you know is a common occurrence here. Children from little on attend wakes. Sometimes there is a Christian burial, someones traditional, and sometimes both. The shadow of Wounded Knee weighs like a heavy blanket over all vision for the future. I see the cross, the place of death, the place of revelation and truth-telling here. I see true humanity revealed in those who live there lives to be role models and visionaries and those who are angry, bitter, and suffocating.

Robert Kolb writes in his article on theology of the cross "The cross reminds us that “ ‘we live on borrowed time’—time lent us by the Creator.Yet we also see in the death of Jesus on the cross our rebellion against that life, and we note that there is absolutely no way out now except one. God vindicated the crucified Jesus by raising him from the dead. So the question and the hope come to us.‘If we die with him, shall we not also live with him?’ In the cross we recognize not only the awful truth but also the wonderful truth about ourselves."

The truth is we are children of God capable of love, peace and joy, plagued by evil, injustice, and oppression. The truth is God reveals himself as a person of love and mercy in the midst of our tragedies. When we question human value and worth, the economics of God are irrational and radical for they come in the death of what we value most so that we can experience a revelation beyond our conception. The Lakota way is to know that all things happen for a reason. If one were to judge human life from the basis of God's presence in human life and God's love for creation, we might find all things happen for a reason to be a relevant cross-view.

Theology Lakota Style

Today we accomplished a lot of work laying flooring. A classmate and I went to Higher Ground Coffee House for some gourmet coffee. This is a Lakota run business and Christian ministry. We spent a few hours visiting with the owner. Now I can say I've heard a full circle of opinions concerning culture and religion this week for I have heard those who say Lakota spirituality and Christianity should be separate and those who strive for balance and integration.

After children's hour, we shared a meal of Indian Tacos with Pastor Asa & Tresita Wilson and Kelly & Suzie Looking Horse. Following the meal we made dream catchers. http://www.wldwind.com/lhorse.htm

Today I thought a lot about the words and concepts I've been hearing. Language is a great pathway for understanding a culture. This week I have prayed often in words I did not understand. I have heard cultural theology explained and wondered how to integrate Christ and culture. Yesterday when we visited Red Cloud School, we toured Holy Rosary chapel. The tour guide explained how their philosophy is to balance one's Catholicism/Christianity with one's Lakota identity. An example was the artwork for the Stations of the Cross. Three artists created paintings in which Jesus was Lakota and the soldiers were portrayed as Calvary or Crow, who were both historical enemies.

The words I've heard this week were Lakota of the L dialect. However, I grew up in Dakota territory, which is the D dialect. In Canada one would meet Nakota who speak the N dialect. Even dialects can create differences in culture and understandings of tradition.

So what about Lakota Theology? I found a website that listed a few terms or concepts in catechetical terms that I've heard this week that illustrate the complexities of belief. http://www.bluecloud.org/41.html

1. WAKAN -- Sacred, Holy

Wakantanka -- wicasa wakan -- sunka wakan
People are wakan -- and some places too
Other words: Unktomi, Witko denote kinds of spirits.

2. Creation -- starts in Black Hills

3. Sin -- Moon was unfaithful, so she must again and again cover her face.

4. Prayer -- Hambleciya -- Prayer stones

5. Penance -- Sweat Bath -- Sun Dance.

6. Community -- Oyate -- Tiyospaye.

7. Priesthood -- Wicasawakan -- had much Wasagiya

8. Worship -- Sacred Pipe

Flags at the Sacred Spot: (Four colors of the Medicine Wheel)

West --- Black -- Confrontation -- War
North -- Red ---- Control ----------- Law
East ---- White -- Renewal ---------- Spirit
South -- Yellow - Quiet ------------- Unity

9. After life -- No Hell -- Life -- Eating with the dead (Preparing and sharing a meal with all at a funeral)

Around the turn of the century Native American education was established to "kill the Indian, save the man." The culture was kept alive through an underground effort. Like an honorable warrior, this culture bears its scars with humility.
Personally, I am nobody. I am a sinner who falls down and gets back up. But, I do believe in a Christ who frees the oppressed, who liberates the bound, who befriends the outsider. So if Jesus is alive anywhere, why not here?

Red Cloud Indian School

Monday, January 26

A few of us went to the work site this morning and I continued to help with laying flooring. It was cold, very cold. After about three hours we joined the rest of the group (a few folks have had bad colds to deal with) and received a tour of Red Cloud School and Heritage Center.The museum was amazing and I would love to visit in the summer for the art show. Over 600 students attend from miles away and the school is known for its record in academic excellence.

When we returned the the retreat center, I was exhausted and ended up napping through childrens' time. Our evening was free and we traveled into Nebraska to go out for supper. It was nice to have an evening of silliness in the midst of all this cause for reflection. I'm afraid the well of deep thoughts is feeling rather shallow tonight. I think rest deserve more respect so that is my plan. Tomorrow calls for more work and more learning. So blessings and good night.

Come Together and Woyatan

Through the flurries of snow we attend two worship services this Sunday. First we traveled to Oglala for worship at Makasan Presbyterian church. Due to the weather there were few in attendance. We sang hymns from the Dakota hymnal, which includes a collection of familiar hymns translated into Lakota. Louis Garcia writes in the article "The History of Customs of the Spirit Lake Dakota" an interesting story about the translation of hymns into Dakota and Ojibwe since the 1840's.

"This is the setting for our story.

A single wakeya (conical tent made of hides) was situated deep in the woods. The husband and perhaps the oldest son were off hunting. As was the custom they would not return home until they harvested some animal for food. Only the faithful wife and children were home. At dusk as they huddled around the small fire within the tent, the wife heard some thing outside. Not wanting to alarm the children she said nothing, but listened intently. Then to her horror she saw from the corner of her eye, a hand, with only its fingernails visible, slightly open the tent door to peek inside. It was their dreaded enemy the Hahatonwan Oyate, the Waterfall People, known today as the Ojibway or Chippewa. What was she to do? The men were not there, she had no defense, and could do nothing. The Ojibway would shortly kill them all and take their scalps. So she prayed to God, the God the missionaries told them about. “What ever you ask of God, he will grant”, the missionaries said. Then she prayed and began to sing the Dakota words to the hymn Bethany. Fortunately the Ojibway warriors outside recognized the tune of the hymn and added their voices, but in their language. The trees reverberated with the sound of the hymn. The tent door was pushed to the side and a warrior entered and shook hands with the jittery occupants. The woman invited the men into her home and they shared a meal together. The Dakota family was saved from destruction and two former enemies were made friends, all because of a hymn."

Following lunch at Makasan, we traveled to Rapid City for an Epiphany worship at Woyatan Lutheran Church, a multi-cultural ministry. The worship service began and ended with the drum group drumming and singing in Lakota as traditional dancers danced toward the altar, followed by the crucifix, acolyte, and pastoral worship leaders. It was quite a display of mingling culture and traditions.

As I reflect on the mission of multi-cultural ministry I imagine a coming together. The image of a sanctuary for peace, dialogue, and connection come to mind. I asked someone what "Woyatan" means and received two answers. One said it means "praise." Another said, "It means to praise God through humble service for others." Now that sounds like my impression of woyatan's theology and a theology for all of us. Come together and Woyatan.

Buffalo Grace

Saturday, January 24

It was a very early morning today. A group of six took advantage of our day off to tour South Dakota. We headed to Crazy Horse, drove by Mt Rushmore, and ate a huge lunch in Rapid City. On the way to Crazy Horse we were surrounded by a herd of buffalo. One bull was next to my window and he was taller than the van. The thought, "We're goners." did cross my mind as they bowed heads and trotted toward the van. Turns out they just wanted to lick the van and passed on by. Unfortunately I have no pictures.

There is a snowstorm outside so we have canceled our trip to an evening pow wow. It's cold and windy today. Most of us are downright exhausted and plan to watch the movie National Treasure 2. It seemed fitting since we just visited the Black Hills.

Have you ever seen a buffalo up close? They truly are majestic animals.
I remembered an image I saw yesterday of the destruction and hunting of buffalo in the 1800s. I thought about the sin against these animals that was committed in the past.

Martin Luther posed a theology that we are both saint and sinner simultaneously. That I sin and am inclined to self and not God AND that I am created in the image of God. I love the comments Sarcastic Lutheran makes in her blog about this topic.

Sometimes friends criticize how Christianity is like the proverbial gumball machine (see sarcastic lutheran blog). You confess and you are forgiven. So what's the cost, what's the big deal? Truth is that's just "cheap grace." Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession.... Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate. (Cost of Discipleship by Bonhoffer)

I don't want cheap grace for the reckless waste of sins against humanity and yes, even the buffalo. Give me true grace. May I come to God with knees bent and a true sense of needing that forgiveness. Let it be with cost and meaning. Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. (Cost of Discipleship by Bonhoffer)

Today, I was thankful for some Buffalo Grace.

Land Treaties Dust to Dust

Friday, January 23

After a week of spring with temperatures in the 60s, I awoke to snow and a temperature of 14 degrees with a bitter prairie wind. I drove the van this gray day to Kyle, SD where we visited Lakota Funds http://www.lakotafunds.org/ and Lakota College http://www.olc.edu/
We drove to Betty's Kitchen for lunch. This restaurant is literally in Betty's Kitchen! I've been listening to KILI radio while here. You can stream it online so check it out - http://www.kiliradio.org/

When we returned to the retreat center I helped pick up kids for children's hour. I drove all over Pine Ridge and came to dread those treacherous speed bumps. Let's just say you'd better slow down or say goodbye to rear suspension.

It's been a long day. We had the evening off to do what we wanted. Tomorrow I head to the Black Hills, the birthplace of the Lakota people, the holy lands so to say. Only these holy lands have long been taken from their chosen people. Today, I looked at three maps based on three treaties that the U.S. government made with Lakota people about the designation of tribal lands. http://puffin.creighton.edu/lakota/index_treaties.html It shrunk dramatically when gold was discovered in the Black Hills. Greed over land is such a painful sin. It is so wasteful.

I keep thinking about Leo Tolstoy's story "How Much Land Does a Man Need?" A man who is desperately land-hungry makes a bet for a lower price that he can have all the land he can walk from sunrise to sunset as long as he returns to the spot he began at. He walks and walks trying to attain more and more only to realize his mistake too late and makes a mad dash for the starting point. He makes it just as the sun sets and everyone cheers while the man drops dead from exhaustion. They bury him in an ordinary grave, only six feet long. Thus answering the question.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. What are we doing in between?

Knees Who Hurt at Wounded Knee

Thursday, January 22

I woke up late with a half hour to get ready. I rushed out to the building site and spent three hours laying flooring. My knees were killing me, but I enjoyed the activity after feeling pent up. As I've written before it isn't very safe to go for a walk. We returned to the retreat center for a quick lunch while "street people" knocked on the door for a sandwich. We serve every day for lunch and there is always someone knocking at the door here.

After piling into vans we sped off to Wounded Knee, where Kelly Looking Horse gave a presentation. Some folks are not in favor of white people hanging out at the grave site and fear we might be disrespectful. So we quickly prayed with tobacco, observed the site with honor, and heard the stories told. But not without the police driving by to check it out. No problem, just another day at the rez.

We made it back just in time for children's hour, which was a lively time of about 20 kids. Kelly and Suzie Looking Horse were our guests for supper and talked openly about the economic and social realities around here, as well as dreams for change. We sang songs and learned to dance the round dance, snake dance, veteran's honor dance, and men's sneak up. It was an evening of laughs and silliness. I even yelled out a good "war whoop". Which Kelly teased sounded like a Crow. (haha a few of you will get the joke)

Earlier today I text that my knees hurt and now I'm going to Wounded Knee, which the recipient found quite funny. You know if someone knocks you down at the knees, life can be pretty painful. As I thought about the poverty, the constant door knocking, the inner city environment I'm living in this week I had the image of a person knocked down at the knees limping along life.

It hurt my heart to hear the story of Wounded Knee again. To hear of the mutilation of women, the savage trickery to draw children out of their hiding places and slaughter them, the proud soldiers standing over the dead like a hunter holding the horns of a prize elk. I remembered the story of the survivors who were taken to a Catholic church across town for medical care and mostly died. The massacre was a few days after Christmas and the banner in the church filled with dying elders, women and children read "Peace on Earth and Good Will Toward Men." The irony of what we proclaim and the sinful horror of what we are capable of doing in one simple image.

A classmate and I got in a discussion about 1st and 2nd use of the law. That's theology stuff. Basically, 1st use of the law if for "civil" or "political" use.The law works to compel civility through legal restraint and the threat of punishment.Basically, it is unlawful to kill, rape, massacre people because it's just not civil and you will be punished. The 2nd use of the law is "theological". The law not only sets up and enforces standards of civility but also accuses those who disobey it and thereby makes offenders aware of their
sin and consequent need for forgiveness. It's wrong to do those things, you're convicted for them, and now are aware of your wrongness. The only path to deal with this awareness is that of repentance and forgiveness. (Thank you Professor David Lose for a great paper on this.) http://www.luthersem.edu/word&world/Archives/21-3_The_Law/21-3_Lose.pdf

What conviction do you feel about the image of dying victims beneath a flapping banner proclaiming peace on earth and good will toward men...women...children? I feel the hopelessness of never attaining justification by the law, because it is in all of us to do harm, break civility, and cause terror. It is also in all of us to live mercy, practice forgiveness, and walk humbly with our God for these are the very things that make us the children of God, images of God, beloved. But I cannot achieve that justification by my own will, by seeking perfection, nor by doing what I think best. Those soldiers were defeating an enemy. Until recently Wounded Knee has been called a battle, not a massacre. It has been recorded as a great win for the US government, though today more of us may say it was a dark day of shame. For years people have thought this event was what was best. Was it? Really? A lot of mistakes have been made, some reconciliation has been attempted, but the path of forgiveness is one of returning and reclaiming honor by those who limp on wounded knees.

Judgment Interpreted

Wednesday, January 21

Today we went to Red Shirt Table for a talk by Fr. Robert Two Bulls about Asampi Bleza, a relative who was killed in a skirmish with ranchers during the time of the Wounded Knee massacre. We met at an overlook with an amazing view of the badlands. We had lunch at the Episcopal church which included soup, fry bread, and Wojapi.
http://www.turtletrack.org/Issues00/Co04222000/CO_04222000_Wojapi.htm

Following lunch, we returned to the retreat center to host children's hour, followed by Wednesday children's worship, followed by children's supper - sloppy joes. The evening concluded watching the documentary "Incident at Ogalala" about the Wounded Knee 71 day siege in 1973 and the violence that occurred in the 1970s over the corruption in tribal government and the differences in traditionalists vs progressives.

Judgment was the stumbling block of the day. I remember a few years ago I participated in some training to heal ones' judgment. The exercise consisted of naming a judgment you have about someone. Then naming what you think that means about them. Then owning that judgment as a fear that means something about you. Finally forgiving yourself for making a mistake and believing an untruth. For example, say you have a judgment about someone with a tattoo. You think what that tattoo means about them is that they are rebellious. Then think about what rebelliousness you judge in yourself or fear being judged for. Finally forgive yourself for making a mistake and believing something untrue.

Deep, I know.

The point is that fear and insecurity are the foundations of judgment which can lead to prejudice, -isms, and violence. "Fear not" is an ongoing theme in the Bible. It is the essence of Christ. Fear not. I have come to give you abundant life. Don't buy into the themes of scarcity and lack, the fears of judgment and hopelessness. Yet tonight I sat with children who can't walk a few blocks to the retreat center for fear of gang violence. I can't go for a walk or hang out alone anywhere while I'm here for fear of violence and feel pent up. The elderly cannot exercise with walks to treat their diabetes for fear of gang violence. This county is the poorest county in the nation. Only Hurricane Katrina has knocked in down to second poorest. What an honor. Yet folks say, that's not poverty if you got what matters - family and our values, our traditions, our community.

I've participated in metaphysical thought for a long time. I've also been a student of the Bible and Christian faith. There is an age-old wisdom I've come to know in my studies and observed here in the midst of poverty and violence. It is in asking all to focus not on the fear but the hope. To laugh when you could cry, stand strong when you feel weak, and love when it would be so easy to hate. Oh, and traveling in groups always helps. :)

The Other Side of Me

Tuesday, January 20

I awoke this morning with a shiver. I had gone to bed very late and did not know where the extra quilts were kept. Needless to say I slept with extra layers of clothing as exhaustion swept over me. We watched the inauguration of President Obama on a tv that had faded color. Only shades of red and blue appeared with any clarity. This made every screen shot to the American flag quite striking as all other images were ironically black and white. Following the inauguration we served sandwiches to those who knocked on the door and took a trip to the building site where we will provide some volunteer labor to build another retreat center. This activity was a bit of a surprise, but so be it. Then it was children's hour, an after-school program for providing a safe place for kids from 4-5pm. I played a lot of pool. Who knows maybe I will become a pool player.

The evening ended with a guest speaker. Some of what he said I'd heard or read before. Something that caught me up in thought was his referral to his "other side of me" instead of saying "wife". He said "wife" isn't enough to explain what a relationship is all about. She was his other side. As ya'll know I hate Jerry McGuire "you complete me" kind of language about relationships, so I began to wonder why this felt different. Not my "other half" but my "other side". Who are the other sides of our life? I've observed I may behave differently with people based on the kind of relationship I have with them, from formal, professional to casual and yes even romantic. So how does being with your "other side" look like? Respectful, honorable, passionate, comfortable, strangely familiar... I'm still brewing this tea of thought tonight like a good herbal - best to let it steep.

Windblown Mysteries on the Rez

January 19, 2009 The beginning of a two-week immersion in Pine Ridge, SD.

My day began at 5am, loading a 15 passenger van and setting off for Pine Ridge, SD. It was a quiet trip in a van of strangers. As we drove across the prairie the wind became stronger and stronger creating a physical effort to keep the van on the road. In Mitchel, SD I switched drivers and let my arms have a rest. As we drove I read articles about Pine Ridge and wondered where this little adventure would take us. I also began to pray as each gust swept us across the freeway that we would survive to see the mystery unfold.

Have you ever taken a journey without a plan, itinerary, or any expectation? It's a rare gift to give yourself. I plan to practice being present, listening, and allowing mystery to lead me on. Tomorrow our nation will observe a historic event. I may not be around technology to observe the inauguration live, but I can always go online later. I listened to MLK's "I Have A Dream" speech as I drove out to the rez and wondered about the mystery unfolding in the world's journey of life. So many people traveled east while I traveled west, each to engage an American story unfolding, dreaming, and dying. The path of dismantling racism is far from over, the journey of forgiveness is fraught with the blows of hard winds. Yet, we carry on. And that is a mystery I am thankful for.