Sunday, August 26, 2012

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!

As a good ole seminarian, I was excited for Sunday to role around and see what a worshiping congregation looks like on the reservation.  I took a class last spring called Native American Religions and Traditions at Chicago Theological Seminary, which is a United Church of Christ seminary that is a part of the consortium of seminaries that LSTC is a part of in Chicago.  When I took the class, I was looking for a unique opportunity, especially one outside of the LSTC community.  I never thought I'd use the knowledge from the class quite so quickly or so intensely as moving to a reservation for internship.

The PRRC works primarily with three congregations: Makasan Presbyterian Church, St. John's Episcopal Church and the Pine Ridge Presbyterian Church.  On Sunday, we worshipped with the Makasan community.  This church and its multipurpose hall was built by visiting retreat groups, seminarians in fact.  It seems to be a common tread to have a sanctuary completely separate from the multipurpose hall or social hall.  Services at Makasan start promptly at 10:30am, or so they advertise.  The minister came in at approximately 10:45am and shook everyone's hands or hugged them, then we began to worship.  I was asked by my supervisor if I liked to sing prior to the service.  I responded with a hesitant "Yes..." and she said that I might be asked to join the choir up front, "But don't worry.  The choir doesn't rehearse.  We just go up and sing whatever song he picks out of the booklet."  So, I did.  I was invited up with the choir and we sang a song out of the booklet, then the rest of the congregation applauded.  There were about 15 of us in church that morning; roughly seven of us went to sing with the choir.

The service seemed to have a steady pace, without the extra singing pieces of Lutheran liturgy that I'm used to.  The minister began each hymn, since there was no organist or pianist.  We sang a few hymns in English and a few in Lakota.  We read Psalm 84 responsively, which struck this emotional chord in me.  "How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!"  How awesome, God, is this place, where a few are gathered, and we are worshiping you in multiple languages.  How awesome, God, is this place where I have been welcomed in, hugged, invited to sing in the choir, and be a part of the community, without even earning it.  How awesome, God, is this opportunity to sit in a pew, in a congregation in the middle of a reservation, knowing that my life has already been forever changed by the people who surround me.  We concluded the service by singing the Doxology in Lakota.  Yes, the Doxology in LAKOTA!  How cool?!

After worship, we gathered for a meal of fellowship in the multipurpose hall.  My supervisor had mentioned in the prayers that our retreat group from Chicago had a late start on traveling, due to the smashed windshield.  One of the women in the congregation talked about how frustrated she was by this, because she said, "It makes us look bad when people do this!"  Several of my friends have posted articles lately about the number of shooting deaths in Chicago over the last few days.  When I read those articles, my heart hurts for the families and communities of the victims.  I have never once thought, "Those Chicagoans killing people are making me look bad!"  I'm not sure if this is a cultural thing, such as the Lakota understanding that we are all one, or if it's a recognition of how white people come into Pine Ridge and carry the stories out into their communities.  What image have I already portrayed of Pine Ridge, based on tell y'all on this blog about the windshield or the gangs?

During the fellowship meal, some of the women explained to me the relationships between washichu.  This was the first Lakota word I learned, since I watch Aaron Huey's TED talk found here.  If you haven't watched it, check it out.  Aaron Huey is the photographer that did the work for August's National Geographic article on Pine Ridge--check that out too!  Wasichu has been translated as "the one who takes all the meat."  I looked up some etymology to confirm this and seems that there are differing opinions.  Regardless, people in the Oglala Sioux nation have used it to describe white people.  If an Indian man marries a Wasichu woman, then she becomes Indian.  She is a part of the tribe.  If an Indian woman marries a Wasichu man, then she is considered Wasichu.  People seem to use this term as a description, rather than an insult; however, I can't help thinking that there has to be some negative connotation to it.  I am wasichu and to this people, I have been one to take all the meat, forcing their people to move onto a reservation and live a lifestyle that they did not choose.  I am a wasichu that has power to tell the story of this people to my fellow wasichu, hoping to share not only the poverty, but also the sweet way in which one of the women who works at the center spoke to me about her children and how much she loves them all.

After our fellowship meal, the diaconal minister candidate, Alicia, started her project: teaching the Makasan community to knit and crochet prayer shawls.  I have never been so thankful for a random skill learned along the journey as this day!  Alicia knows how to crochet, but some of the women wanted to learn how to knit.  I learned to knit prayer shawls last spring from a seminary classmate.  I've made a few prayer shawls and a few scarves, but I am no expert!  I found myself teaching these women how to knit, barely knowing myself.  It was awesome.  Frustrating, since I have no skills at teaching knitting, but awesome.

I am so thankful to be here, knowing that I am wasichu, but that I have an awesome opportunity to learn and grow from the people here, in this lovely dwelling place of God.

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