Tears and Other Acts of Repentance

By Christie R. House

At a dinner last night (April 26) hosted by the Native American Comprehensive plan, more than 50 people gathered from about 20 different tribal groups. Marcus Briggs-Cloud, a member of the Maskoke Nation, son of the Wind Clan and grandson of the Bird Clan, was acknowledged for his role in the opening worship ceremony at General Conference 2012. Briggs-Cloud then led them in the singing of several hymns. They sang "Amazing Grace" in seven different languages. The Lumbee group from North Carolina started the singing in English because most of their mother tongue has been lost. Kiowa, Choctaw, Klinket, Comanche, Creek, Padawatomi, and Cherokee, followed in turn.

Dr. Henrietta Mann (Cheyenne), co-author with Anita Phillips (Cherokee) of On This Spirit Walk, a study guide given to every delegate attending this conference, spoke of the difficulty in getting through some of the sections of the book. She named the tragic events at Sand Creek and Washita River, and the denominationally run "Christian" boarding schools that removed children from their homes and sent them where only English was spoken and only non-indigenous culture, tradition, and subjects were taught. "Eventually," said Dr. Mann, "the Federal Government decided it was cheaper to 'educate' the Indian than to continue fighting the Indian wars."

The loss began to penetrate my being as I listened to their stories of grief—at the hands of the government, at the hands of US settlers, many of whom were recent immigrants to this land, and at the hands of a Methodist preacher. I could feel the anguish in the room, and somehow in the presence of so many first peoples grieving together for their shared history, I knew that the history of my people was also part of this shared story. It is God's will that we should share the grief of this history together.

At that moment, the Act of Repentance became real for me. It is not about being defensive because I, personally, feel guilt about the sins of my ancestors. There is no defense for the sins of my ancestors. This is about members of the body of Christ taking corporate responsibility. The acts perpetrated by the colonizing settlers were unforgivable, yet in God's grace, they might yet be forgiven—but not without cost to their descendants. The wounds, still felt in the form of deep loss in many ways by the first peoples, by the grace of God, may yet heal, but not without this and many more acts of repentance.

Skyler Corbett, a member of the Klameth nation from Oregon, helped me to see what those acts might be. First, Native Americans are storytellers. We must listen to the stories of our sisters and brothers. We may have read about the stories, or heard about them, or we may have generally blocked out those stories as past occurrences. One act of repentance is to listen to the stories of indigenous people, and to receive the stories from their point of view, even when those stories express pain and loss.

Secondly, we must have a ceremony. We, all the descendants, must feel the grief and loss expressed in those stories together. And then we need to cry together. "Tears," said Corbett, "cleanse the soul." And then we can begin.

Other acts of repentance may follow: seeking to understand and acknowledge that the way Christ touches the spirit of Native Americans may not be the same way that we of other cultures experience Christ. Being Christian in any culture means that Christ, as revealed in the Bible, has struck a chord that resonates within, and not in spite of, the cultures and communities that God has formed and birthed people into.

Another act of repentance requires acknowledgment that, because of past wrongs, the scales have not been weighted in favor of Native American peoples today. The church needs to support Native Americans in their ministry. This does not mean, in any way, that non-indigenous folks should send missionaries, define programs, or provide funding that has strings tied to it defining how and where it can be used. We must trust in our fellow United Methodists. They know best how to answer the call of Christ and to spread his love in their communities. Once the church's trust in its Native American members is sincere and open, God may move their spirits, in turn, to trust in the church.

Why Are We Counting "Firsts" in 2012?

By Christie R. House

It is very difficult for white Americans of European descent to understand what life has been like for the first peoples in their own land. Difficult, I believe, because we somehow think that whatever it is we have to ask forgiveness for, it was all in the past. And we were not the perpetrators; it was an ancestor maybe. And maybe not even one of my ancestors, because all my relatives arrived on the East Coast long after those other white people had removed the land's first inhabitants.

And there it is: a string of reasons why it is difficult for us to understand our need for repentance.

Last night a group of about 50 Native American United Methodists gathered to share a meal and prepare for tonight's Act of Repentance. They came from all corners of the United States, representing more than 20 tribal groups. How good it is when brothers and sisters dwell together in harmony. Yet even in the genuine warmth that filled the room, they were remembering why they came.

As they celebrated one another's accomplishments—the Rev. David Wilson, a member of the Choctaw Nation from Oklahoma, would stand for bishop, the first viable Native American candidate from the South Central Jurisdiction; Rachael Mull, a Navajo from New Mexico, would be the first Navajo to serve as director of Four Corners Navajo Ministry—they pondered why they were counting "firsts" in The United Methodist Church in 2012. "Firsts," even though the ancestors of some of those present had heard and believed John Wesley himself, 50 years before the Methodist Europeans arrived to "plant" Methodism on North American soil.

And yet, a couple of those gathered said to me, "If this goes well…who knows?" Have we reached that turning point? More to come….

Reflections on Writing Missionary Biographies

By Elliott Wright

The liturgy for the commissioning of United Methodist missionaries includes a moment of what could be called a "holy touch"—hands placed on head or shoulders symbolize the grace of God and the blessing of the church.

As each new missionary receives the hands, relatives and friends in the congregation may stand, signifying both support of the person commissioned and identity with God's mission.

I always want to stand for every new missionary because each has entered my life, my world of work, and my spiritual journey in a private way that becomes indirectly public.

For some years now, I have written the internet biographical sketches of new United Methodist missionaries. These bios can be accessed in several configurations from the Global Ministries' web homepage. They are snapshots of the background, work, and aspirations of the in-service missionaries; the short accounts are suitable for download for use in mission education and promotion.

I had no idea when I started this post-retirement assignment that it would become a constantly renewing saturation in Christian witness—the witness of women and men, young and mature, from all parts of the world, so diverse in culture and experience; so united in love of God and global neighbors.

From data the missionary candidates provide for public use, I come to know the narrative of each life: spiritual journeys, calls to mission service, education and earlier employment, languages spoken, musical instruments played, the names of children and grandchildren, and hobbies.

I meet parents and grandparents, pastors and campus ministers, and teachers and coaches who guided their footsteps; hear about life-changing mission trips; and can often feel the struggles each faced before answering God, "Here am I, send me."

Jesus is the dominant presence, a constant companion, in the faith stories, a presence of compelling compassion that has reshaped lives into the many forms of today's missionary service.

Another presence is that of John Wesley, often by name and always by implication. His profound combination of personal and social holiness is often given as the theological reason for being both Methodist and missionary. The influence of Wesley, especially the impact of his written sermons, is most dramatic in the spiritual pilgrimages of missionaries from Africa, Asia, and Latin America. The hallmarks of Methodism, such as God's free grace and the social nature of the church, have come as joyful, liberating gifts making the impossible possible in Jesus Christ. Never as a lifelong Methodist have I felt the Wesleyan experience of faith as powerfully alive as in these global missionaries. 

The new missionaries allow me to walk with them if only for a short span as I write their brief online biographies; they touch me with their passion, wisdom, humor, and loving spirits; the touch is holy.