The Stories That Make Us Weep

The events that happened are the past, but ‘history’ is the record of those events. The two are rarely identical. Our connection with history is mediated through the stories we hear and remember. These stories can be skewed, and there is nothing wrong with trying to bring them more in line with reality.

I experienced this tension recently when I finished John Grisham’s Camino Ghosts. I had started it last year but put it down, finding the story initially uncompelling. Last week, while browsing my Kindle, I realized I had never finished it. I gave it another chance because Grisham is a favorite author of mine; I love how he connects his stories with real-world situations, helping me see things in a different light.

I finished the book earlier today and found myself weeping at the end. Briefly, the story follows a writer documenting an island off the north Florida coast inhabited solely by descendants of former slaves. The last inhabitant, an 80-year-old woman, is fighting a ruthless casino developer who wants to take over the island. The story has a good ending, but I found myself reflecting on why it moved me so deeply.

This reflection connected with another activity I’d been doing: genealogy. I decided this weekend to set aside time to look at my family tree, exploring the history of my great-great-great-grandfather, Rev. James Settee. I was researching his progenitors and came across an article written by Raymond Shirritt-Beaumont for a public school curriculum in Northern Manitoba. It discussed Rev. James Settee and his cousin — and later colleague — William Garrioch.

The author made a cryptic remark that a Joseph Smith was Settee’s great-grandfather. The article explored various possibilities before focusing on one person: a Joseph Smith who arrived in the Hudson Bay in the late 1700s. He made five journeys inland into what is now southern Manitoba and Saskatchewan, primarily to connect First Nations people with the Hudson’s Bay Company for trade. Smith eventually died on one of these trips. Remarks in his boss’s journal seemed to imply he had a “local family.”

For those unfamiliar with this history, that was very common. European men often formed families with First Nations women. Their children are known today as the Métis or Country Born. The article speculates that this child was Rev. James Settee’s grandfather. There’s no concrete proof; it’s a historical speculation based on Settee’s own claim of a Smith ancestor. This is where the past and the record of it — history — diverge.

“Certainly the glimpse Settee gave us of life among the Swampy Cree in the early years of the nineteenth century reveals a culture in transition, a unique blend of aboriginal and European that defies easy definition. For the Garriochs and Settees, that cross-cultural exchange had been going on for four generations, and perhaps longer, when James Settee and William Garrioch set out in 1824 for the mission school at Red River. It continues today among their descendants; indeed, one might say that the family represents Canada in microcosm. From its multicultural beginnings, the Garrioch family has become a new people, one that is firmly planted on this continent, but with roots stretching out across the seas. When all is said and done, what could be more Canadian than that?”

[Raymond Shirritt-Beaumont, Wabowden: Mile 137 on the Hudson Bay Railway, (Frontier School Division, 2004), 129.]

It was with this understanding of my own ancestors’ blended history that I returned to the story of the island in Camino Ghosts. Reading the story of a woman whose ancestors were slaves, who grew up on the fringes, and who finally saw justice done connected me directly to the story of the First Nations and Métis people of Canada — my ancestors. Reading how they worked not only in the fur trade but also in spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ throughout Manitoba and Saskatchewan connected me personally.

I am a long time removed from that period. Yet, thinking about their journeys through the wilderness of Northern Canada brought me back to my own experiences in that same wild. As I read, pictures of the lakes, trees, animals, and fish came directly to my mind.

The story became profoundly meaningful because I could feel a direct connection. Through my ancestors, their stories — the injustices they experienced through displacement and cultural pressure and the hardships they endured — became real. The theme of justice in Grisham’s book resonated with that personal history.

This reminds me again of the importance of relationship. It is impossible for me to care about the world or to desire to make it a better place without a relationship with it. That’s why perspectives are important. I must expose myself to other people’s perspectives — to understand their point of view, to hear their stories of joy, hardship, and justice. It is only through hearing these stories that we can connect our stories together.

I’ll close with a moment from the show Alone. In Season 10, set at Reindeer Lake, the producers invited Cree elders from the Peter Ballantyne Cree Nation to give a blessing. An elder stood and prayed over them in nîhithawîwin — the subtitle translation was the words of the Lord’s Prayer. This prayer had become so integral to this First Nations community’s way of life that their blessing invoked a connection with the God of Jesus.

I connect directly back to that because it was my great-great-great-grandfather, Rev. James Settee, a missionary with the Church Missionary Society in Northern Saskatchewan, who worked at making that prayer meaningful for First Nations peoples as he planted churches and communities of Jesus-followers in that part of the world. It felt like a full circle moment — a story connecting past to present, and history to the heart. This reveals what Shirritt-Beaumont so ably stated above, “a unique blend of aboriginal and European that defies easy definition.”

These are the connections have I found, but every story depends upon its listener. What’s your perspective? How do you connect with the world around you in a deeper way? How does your family story impact your experience so that you too can weep — like me — when you see beauty? If that is a new idea for you, what’s the first step towards discovery?

Photo of Rev. James Settee from the The Cathedral Church of St. John Archives.

Orange is more than just a shirt: It’s a call to live the life Jesus wants us to live!

I’m wearing an orange shirt today. This is because September 30 in Canada is the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation aka Orange Shirt Day. One of the ways that this truth and reconciliation is remembered is through the wearing of an orange shirt. Even though I am far removed from Canada and haven’t lived there for any length of time for 26 years, the shirt that I put on today reminds me of two key aspects to what it means to be a follower of Jesus: Truth & Reconciliation.

I should point out before we continue that I do have skin in the game. One branch of my family has a long heritage of both First Nations and Metis peoples and I am a citizen of the Metis Nation of Saskatchewan. My Great-great-great grandfather, the Maškēkowak Rev. James Settee, spent his life ministering through Manitoba and Saskatchewan, introducing people to the good news of Jesus Christ and how that good news can help transform their lives.

If you’re a longtime reader of this blog, you’ll realize that these two words are a key aspect to how I think that we need to frame our lives and our engagement as Jesus followers. The whole framework — that we call the functional church — includes the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Values of God’s Kingdom, Loving God and Neighbour, and Truthtelling.

Orange Reminds Me of Truthtelling at Both the Political and Theological Levels

The first is through truthtelling. Jesus came not only to represent the truth, but to be the Truth. And part of this truth means we need to reflect on ourselves, on the way we think, and on the foundations we’ve built, and to find ways that God wants us to change these for the better. Unfortunately, in the history of Canada, Jesus’ followers have not always exhibited the kind of truth that Jesus would have us exhibit. (This is by no means limited to issues in Canada). One of the truths we need to face is that it’s difficult for us to tie up our political beliefs with our biblical beliefs. Sometimes we connect following Jesus to our adherence with a specific political party or political ideology. One of the truths that some of our founding fathers believed was that First Nations identity was bad and this needed to be changed into something good. Thus we have residential schools that were explicitly designed to “remove the Indian from the child.” This is all clearly documented in the reports of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and also in quotes like this:

When the school is on the reserve the child lives with its parents, who are savages; he is surrounded by savages, and though he may learn to read and write his habits, and training and mode of thought are Indian. He is simply a savage who can read and write. It has been strongly pressed on myself, as the head of the Department, that Indian children should be withdrawn as much as possible from the parental influence, and the only way to do that would be to put them in central training industrial schools where they will acquire the habits and modes of thought of white men.

John A. MacDonald, 1883

This was not merely a political failure; it was a theological one. These political ideas, in turn, fostered and were justified by a flawed theology. What do I mean by that? There are several theological flaws at play here.

Flawed Understanding of Politics and Theology

The first, of course, is that it represents a marriage between politics and theology where political theory is prioritised over theology rather than the other way around. All of life needs to be informed by scripture.

Where do we see this today? It happens when we assume a political party’s platform is synonymous with God’s will, or when we dismiss a fellow believer’s faith because they vote differently.

Humans Were Created Originally Righteous

The Bible clearly teaches us that humans were originally created good. It was only after a specific choice to rebel that sin entered into the world. I’ve written a little bit about that here. That means we cannot look at people from another part of the world who may have different cultures or different languages or different political structures or different technological levels, and say that somehow because they’re not as developed as we are, they’re not worthy of receiving the gospel of Jesus Christ on their own terms. The message of Jesus must be communicated in a way that is understandable to them. There is no command in scripture for us to transform other peoples’ cultures for them. In fact, each person in each culture is called to do their own internal transformation as their own minds are renewed.

Recognizing that truth is the foundation for repentance, healing, and reconciliation.

Imago Dei

The very first words after the creation story in Genesis 1:27 declare that all peoples on the earth are in the image of God.

“So God created humans in his image. In the image of God he created them. He created them male and female.”

The very truths of the Bible condemn the attempts of others to erase languages, traditions, and identities as not only cruel, but also as a denial of Scripture itself. The Good News of Jesus Christ is not an attempt to replace a lost image, but rather a call for all peoples to be reconciled to God and, in that process, to restore and renew their own cultures in Christ, purifying and elevating what aligns with God’s truth and rejecting what does not (Colossians 3:10; Ephesians 4:24).

The truth of the Bible is far from this idea and clearly teaches that the image of God was not erased by the Fall. Genesis 9:6 plainly states human life is sacred because people still bear God’s image. James 3:9 warns against cursing others because they still reflect God’s likeness. Paul describes men and women as God’s image-bearers in the present tense (1 Corinthians 11:7). The truth runs through the whole Bible: every person, every people, every culture carries this dignity.

One tragedy of the residential schools was deeply theological because of the idea that First Nations peoples were somehow less than fully human, or less than fully made in the image of God. This has been framed as “robbing communities and individuals of their cultural and spiritual identity.”

Heaven Will be Explicitly Multicultural

The truth of the matter is that God accepts people from every tribe, language, nation, and people in the world and each of these groups will be represented in heaven. There’s this great image from Revelation 7:9-10 that sees John open his eyes to the reality of the kingdom of God that contains all of these People.

“After this I saw a great crowd of people, too many to count, from every nation, tribe, clan, and language. They were standing before the seat of honor and before the Lamb, dressed in pure white regalia, holding palm tree branches in their hands. They lifted their voices and shouted, ‘The power to set us free and make us whole belongs to the Great Spirit who sits upon the seat of honor, and to the Lamb!’” Book of the Great Revealing 7:9-10

The truth is that we need to work towards a more intentional welcoming of people from all nations into God’s Kingdom, not as peoples whose cultures have been stripped away in favour of our own, but as peoples whose cultures express God’s goodness and love. Maybe these new perspectives will reveal to us that our own culture is flawed and in need of transformation. Unfortunately, for many, this is a very scary prospect because it means that we all need to admit our flaws and work towards repentance and restoration. The culture that we may want to protect; the way of life that we may want to preserve may in fact not be worth protecting or preserving because of their built-in flaws. Maybe instead of preservation we need to work towards growth.

This isn’t just a historical error. We see it when we dismiss other cultures as “unreached” because they lack Western infrastructure, or when we implicitly value some lives over others based on nationality, wealth, or social status.

Wearing Orange not only reminds me of my commitment to truth, it also reminds me of something else.

Orange Reminds Me Of Reconciliation

The second word that this orange shirt I’m wearing reminds me of is reconciliation. There is good news, even in light of the fact that we have made mistakes in the past there is good news because God is working to reconcile us to himself. He has even indicated that Jesus followers are to be agents of this reconciliation. We are to find ways to connect to God with people and people with God. We are to find ways to bring Hope to a world that is hopeless. We must find ways to help others be lifted up as they journey towards God.

But as I was reminded today, in conversation with my Spiritual Director Len Thompson, we may not always see the fruit that we are looking forward to. Len reminded me of Hebrews 11 and 12 where all of these great heroes of our faith worked very hard to establish God’s Kingdom here on earth, but they did not yet experience that kingdom during their own lifetimes. Each had a contribution to make to establishing the Kingdom but the establishment of that Kingdom supersedes any one lifetime or era. What’s especially significant for us today — as pointed out by Andrew Walls — is that we too are waiting to see that Kingdom established! This not only means that you and I each have our own contribution to make, it also means that our contributions are essential!

The legacy of this theological failure isn’t confined to history books. It echoes in the ongoing trauma of survivors, the systemic inequalities Indigenous people still face, and in our own complacency. So, what’s the next step for us, right now?

What’s the next step?

So, today, feel free to wear an orange shirt. But it’s not merely enough to just wear an orange shirt. We are called to be truth-tellers and reconcilers today, and this historical example shows us what happens when we fail that call. Here’s how we can live it out now.

  • How can I apply the truth of God to my life? To my society’s life? To my use of the land?
  • How can I be an agent of reconciliation today? Encourage individuals to return to a right relationship with God? Reshape my society so that it has a proper relationship with God? Improve my relationship with the land in a way that God desires?

Will you join me in being a truth teller? Will you join me in being an agent of reconciliation?

If Orange Shirt Day is painful for you, help is available. Call the 24-hour national Indian Residential Schools Crisis Line: 1 (800) 721-0066.

When is it appropriate to appropriate? Why appropriation can be good. (Part 2)

“Not all appropriation is bad” may seem like an odd statement since in Part 1 of this topic I talked about all the reasons why appropriation is bad. In this part I intend to talk about one aspect of human culture that needs to be appropriated and if it isn’t appropriated then problems happen. I am talking of course about the good news of Jesus Christ.

Get this. The gospel is supposed to be appropriated. No one culture can claim ownership over it. No one group can say that they are the final authority on how the gospel should be understood and applied — such decisions need to happen in dialogue with everyone else. This is something very hard to do, granted, but also something that should be done. We know this because Jesus’ final command to his disciples — often called the Great Commission — is to spread this good news around the world.

Andrew Walls spent his life developing a framework of Transmission and Appropriation when it comes to the good news of Jesus Christ. What’s significant about Walls approach is that he sees not only the transmission side of things but also delves into the appropriation side as well. Appropriate is as intentional as transmission — eventually whatever is being transmitted is to subsequently be appropriated by the recipient. 

Walls talks about two types of recipients of the good news: Proselytes and converts. Proselytes adopt some one else’s encounter with God as their own while Converts adapt their own culture to reflect a new encounter with God. It may seem as if this is a two-stage process starting from proselyte and moving towards conversion but that is an over simplification of how things work. In fact in every culture we see examples of both co-existing. For example the practice of baptism, while debated as to its mode, is a nearly universally accepted practice among Christians, in spite of the fact that it originated in the Jewish religion.

The fact that the gospel is to be transmitted also implies that it will also be appropriated. Thus, Appropriation and Transmission must occur together. What’s also interesting is that ultimately the process also happens in reverse to create a richer transmission culture: The appropriator becomes the transmitter and the transmitter becomes the appropriator — or at least it should 🙂 Cultural hybridity is not a bad thing. In reality there are very few cultures that exist that have no interaction with other cultures. 

We have seen the dangers of what Bakhtin calls monologues — where only one person is allowed to speak. The results are staggering. 

Church participation in Cultural Genocide. I have already written a lot about this topic particularly as it relates to the Canadian Indian Residential Schools System but suffice it to say the church’s failure to listen to the voices of the Other in their missions efforts has been nearly universal. The “Other” is “someone or something who is perceived, either consciously or not, as alien or different.” In this example, while missionaries may recruit some of those they are on mission to into their own ranks, their otherness is often maintained as seen by the second example.

Marginalisation of Other clergy. My great-great-great-great grandfather, Rev. James N. Settee, was the second person of First Nations ancestry to be ordained as a priest in the Church Missionary Society (Anglican Church of Canada). He devoted his entire life to spreading the gospel among first nations peoples in Manitoba and Saskatchewan but was also forced to spend much of his time combatting the inconsistencies and discriminations that he himself experienced on a daily basis to the point that it hindered his ability to do actual ministry. What’s interesting is that he clearly appropriated the gospel into his life’s work but found baggage that needed to be peeled away in order for it to work in his context. 

Other examples. This can also been seen in the many Church splits and schisms that have marked church history as people took stands on where they thought the gospel should end — I suspect all done without acknowledging different contexts.

Rather than monologue, dialogues need to take place and it’s only through the use of dialogue that the appropriation of the good news of Jesus Christ can take place. We talked about Enriquez’ approach to what he calls indigenization from within, which is in effect a system of appropriation governed by insiders rather than outsiders and perhaps this is the best way for appropriation to take place — under the control of the Other!

Salin a Tagalog root word that means “translate” and also “pour” and talks about the process involved in making something one’s own in a different language or culture. Just as liquid is decanted from a pitcher into a glass, and thereby made useful, so also concepts can be decanted from one culture to another and more more understandable. But translation is more than simply making something more understandable — translation means that ownership is taken of the new word or phrase and making it one’s own. So how does someone make something one’s own? Here are a couple of examples from the Philippine context.

Sometimes this combination is more complex than merely combining indigenous and exogenous theories. Regardless of theoretical origins, other factors come into play that exert influence on human decisions, including sociopolitical purposes, religious institutional ends, and religious practitioners’ ends. The various actors, whether those in authority or those under oppression, are each able to exert their own will and influence outcomes. Wendt and Guazon each talk about the interaction of these three factors in the Philippines. Both describe situations where the original intent of the transmitters was re-purposed by the appropriators according to their own needs.

Wendt (1998) talks about fiesta, looking at both historical origins as a means of Spanish control that eventually was co-opted by Filipinos and reformulated into a real part of Filipino identity. Wendt says, “The functions originally intended to implement colonial rule, cultivate specific attitudes and stabilize the colonial system were counteracted to the same degree by the Filipinos’ incorporating the fiesta into their own ways of life and social structures.”

Guazon’s Crisis in the Formation of provisional members of a religious congregation in the Philippines is a study of the interactions between “formandi” and “formators” in the CICM, which is “Congregatio Immaculati Cordis Mariae, the institute’s Latin name. CICM is a Roman Catholic male religious missionary institute of Belgian origin.” The formandi are acolytes desiring admission to the order and the formators are those charged with overseeing the initiation process. One would assume that the process is quite straight forward since the acolytes are the ones seeking admission and will presumably submit. This is not the case, however, with tension occurring on multiple levels. In the end, Guazon concludes that the formandi … are “active participants” in the process and appropriate the requirements of their new social system “according to their own cultural matrix.”

Feedback is always welcome.

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Image by Tyler Nix on Unsplash.