Healing the World

I am writing this on the day following the eclipse of the sun—Margy and I didn't travel to see the totality—but it was exciting to see millions of people in our country gazing at the mysteries of the universe. Astrologer friends of mine say the time between the lunar and solar eclipses was good for introspection and reflection. I've been taking that solitary time during these last few weeks to prepare for this upcoming church year—thinking about sermons, thinking about teaching, thinking about what has been happening in our world, and how we can respond to it.

Two events stand out for me this summer. In July, I participated in a gathering led by Penobscot Sherri Mitchell, entitled Healing the Wounds of Turtle Island. Indigenous elders from across the continent came together in Passadumkeag Maine, for ceremonies to heal the violence in the history of our country. The gathering was open to anyone, and we learned that, actually, this was the beginning of a twenty-one year ritual for the healing of our country. There will be three more gatherings here in the East, then four gatherings in the South, four in the West, four in the North, four in the center of the country, and then one more back in the East. A big vision! On the first day, Sherri reminded us that all of us carry wounds from the violent history of our country, whether our ancestors were part of the oppression, were oppressed, or were witnesses to what occurred.

In August, the wound of white supremacy in our country showed itself overtly. A white nationalist rally in Charlottesville turned deadly, when a neo-Nazi man plowed his car into a group of anti-racist counter-protesters, killing a young activist woman, Heather Heyer, and injuring many others. One of the many clergy present there to counter-protest was Rev. Susan Frederick-Gray, new president of the Unitarian Universalist Association. I was proud to be UU on that day, even as my heart was broken. Since then, many other protests have sprung up across the nation, calling for cities and towns and universities to take down Confederate statues and plaques, and inviting us to affirm a nation that welcomes all, despite our violent beginnings.

Can we heal our nation? There are many Indigenous prophecies that speak of today as a time for healing. We need it so much! I believe we need to acknowledge the violence of our nation's past before we can heal the violence of the present moment. Perhaps we are beginning to do that. The ceremonies at Passadumkeag reminded me that often what is most powerful is not what we see in the news, but what is hidden close to the earth, in small gatherings, in communities of love and vision. I am looking forward to being with all of you again, as together we wrestle with the struggles of our times, and seek healing in the light of the larger mysteries.

Affectionately, Rev. Myke

Stories

Our theme for November is “What does it mean to be a community of story?” Of course, stories can be truth-telling, or truth-hiding. Many of you know I have mixed feelings about the Thanksgiving holiday. I am very much in favor of gratitude. But the stories we tell about the holiday have been used to hide the truth about a deep crack in the foundation of our nation, and have distorted and corrupted the high ideals we cherish as the basis of our American democracy.

Of course, I am speaking about the colonization of this continent, a destructive process unparalleled in history. Millions of Indigenous people were killed, or died from disease unknown to them. Land was stolen. Treaties were signed and then broken, and then never talked about again. Most of our senators and representatives in Washington know nothing about the legal responsibilities of our federal government to the Indigenous nations within our borders.

Why should we care? Those of us whose ancestors were among the settlers of the continent? We have benefited from this colonization, but we have also been harmed by it. Colonization is at the root of the many of the problems that all of us are facing now: the destruction of the natural world, climate change, oppression of one group by another, the overarching greed that has bankrupted our economy. I don't believe we can fix those problems without revisiting our history.

Sadly, churches were a large contributor to colonization. I am part of a new project here in Maine, called “Decolonizing Faith.” A few clergy colleagues and I, under the auspices of the Wabanaki REACH program, are exploring the history of colonization, and the role of the churches in it. We recently spent a long weekend with a few partners from the Wabanaki people having deeper conversations about the impacts of colonization on Wabanaki people, and building trust for future work together. We hope that we might begin to envision how churches could help in the process of de-colonization, joining together with Indigenous people for the benefit of all people.

Our next plan is to create and hold day-long workshops for people in faith communities to explore these questions together. But we realized this topic is so huge, that perhaps we should start by encouraging people to attend the Ally workshops that are already being offered by Wabanaki REACH. These workshops look at the history of U.S. Government relationships with Native people, explore the dynamics of systemic racism, and ask what non-native people can do as allies. Once people have this basic foundation, they will be better prepared for looking at how churches were involved in the problems, and how we can be part of the solutions.

I would encourage folks to sign up for the ally training to be held in Falmouth on Saturday November 12, or in Augusta on November 19^th. You can email Barbara@mainewabanakireach.org or call at 951-4874 for details and more information. These trainings will be a prerequisite for the first Decolonizing Faith workshops we hope to offer this winter.

On another note entirely, some of you may have noticed that we've moved the chalice and the candles of joy and concern to the side table for worship. Part of this is due to my allergies—I often find myself reacting to something in the sanctuary during worship, for example, by coughing. One of our members suggested that it might be the oil burning chalice or candles that were triggering this, and that made sense to me. So we moved them further away from the pulpit. I think it looks nice on that table. I am also exploring beeswax candles for the chalice, rather than lamp oil which is a petroleum product—wouldn't that be more in line with our ecological vision of weaning ourselves from petroleum?

        Affectionately, Rev. Myke