I'm not certain when I first encountered Native American rituals, but I don't think, growing up as a white girl in the northern great plains I was given a great cultural respect for my neighbors. But as I got older, met people from the Dakota, Lakota and now Anishnabe tribes, my respect and awe has only grown.
So I found myself very honored this past Saturday when a gentleman agreed to enter into a sanctuary that was not his own, and perform a pipe and drum ceremony in honor of the woman whose life we were celebrating. This is not a usual thing for my congregation. There is much racism, much hate in this community. But it was wonderful to see how this woman, even in her death brought together people who would usually never sit side by side in a holy place.
Holy ground means so many different things for people. Wars have been fought over it, wars are still waged today over holy ground. Will there ever be a time when we can say there is enough holiness to go around? That my holy ground can be your holy ground- even if we don't name the holiness the same name?
Mi taku oyasin (Lakota) "We are all related."
1 comment:
Your perspective - your thoughts and words often bring me to tears, healing tears. Thank you.
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