Diversity & Inclusion: The Holy Covenant of Faithful Community

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Capernaum - Many Rooms

House Ruins in Capernaum, Israel – in the foreground is an example of a home with added rooms (Photo taken by the author in 2017)

 John 14:1-6 
‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

The Gospel of John came into its current form between 90 AD and 110 AD. The historical context of time and place in which this gospel emerged helped shape the discourses and themes contained within it. Understanding the socio-cultural environment can help translate the use of symbols and metaphors employed by the gospel’s author in order to communicate the intended messages and teachings. This holistic approach underscores that it is not possible to understand any one passage from John’s gospel without a consideration of the way everything contained within the gospel is interrelated, internally consistent, and intentionally dialogical in construct.

The author whom Christian tradition names as “John” (although there is evidence indicating several contributors over time) is intimately familiar with the scriptures and symbol system of the Jewish faith, culture, and history. John is also familiar with non-Jewish sources of Greek philosophers and Greco-Roman mystery cults. By weaving together themes that were influential among the diverse populations of the Mediterranean, John presents an interpretation of Jesus that communicates common themes that would have been comprehensible and attractive to a wide-range of cultures and belief systems extant in the author’s time and place.

John is writing for a diverse Christian community experiencing a significant shift in communal identity as related to but independent of Jewish community and identity. The symbols and imagery evoked in the gospel open up the early Christian worldview to thoughts and influences beyond the Hebrew lexicon of stories and symbols representing the Israelite understanding of the Messiah. For John, the Messiah invites spiritual union between Christ and the individual that is unmediated and free-of-charge. This spiritual union is contrasted to the communal covenant with God requiring the fee-based mediation of Jewish priests and interpretation by Jewish teachers who have the exclusive cultural authority to do so. Liberating one’s relationship with the Messiah from Jewish mediation and interpretation is why John contrasts Christian belief from Judaism as it was identified in Judah, even utilizing messianic concepts from the Samaritan Jewish tradition.

For John, the importance of the innovation of a personal relationship with Christ is why the passage of John 14:1-6 is significantly illuminated when it is viewed in light of John 2:1-11, the wedding at Cana. I believe that that the symbolic language employed in the depiction of the wedding at Cana is a storyline that is completed in the symbolic language of Christ going to prepare a place in his Father’s house for those he will bring to where he is going.

Firstly, in the marriage traditions of the ancient Israelites, the father of the groom often selected a bride (kallah) for his son, as did Abraham for his son Isaac (Genesis 24:1-4). The consent of the bride-to-be is important. For example, Rebecca was asked if she agreed to go back with Abraham’s servant to marry Abraham’s son, Isaac, and she went willingly (Genesis 24:57–59). Mutual agreement was required for a valid marriage contract.

John’s gospel uses the image of marriage at the wedding of Cana as the central image of the nature of the believer’s relationship with Christ – namely, a spiritual, intimate, and mutual union. Further, the illustration of water turned to wine at the wedding feast encodes the early Christian teaching coupled frequently in John’s gospel, linking baptism to the pascal feast – both are celebrations and occasions of our spiritual union with Christ. The symbol of wine employed in the joyful experience of a wedding is linked to the wine used in the Last Supper, specifically the cup of wine reserved for after the meal which is traditionally associated with the joyful expectation of the arrival of the Messiah.

The link between the waters of baptism and the wine representing Christ’s sacrifice can be found in the traditional preparation for the Jewish betrothal ceremony. Namely, the bride (kallah) and groom (chatan) are separately immersed in water in a ritual of mikvah, which is symbolic of spiritual cleansing. For John, Jesus has already been immersed (baptized) by John the Baptist in the waters of mikvah at the Jordan River, in preparation for Christ’s union with his Beloved, which is each of us. From John’s use of symbols, the community is to understand that baptism serves a similar purpose.

After the immersion in the mikvah, the betrothed couple enters the huppah (marriage canopy)—symbolic of a new household being planned, to establish a binding contract. Within the symbol of home, the groom would give the bride a valuable object such as a ring, and lastly a cup of wine was customarily shared to seal their covenant vows.

After the betrothal ceremony, the bride returned to her mother’s house, while the groom departed to his father’s house. This period of separation lasted about a year, providing time for the groom to add additional rooms to his patrilineal household in order for him to prepare for welcoming his bride into the household of his father. Although the bride knew to expect her groom after about a year, she did not know the exact day or hour. He could come earlier or later than was expected. For this reason, the bride kept her oil lamps ready at all times, just in case the groom came in the night (Matthew 25:1-13). It was the father of the groom who gave final approval for the time for him to return to collect his bride.

When the time came, the bridal procession was led by the sounding of the shofar to the home he had prepared for her. The final step of the wedding tradition is called nissuin (to take), a word that comes from naso, which means to lift up. At this time, the groom, with much noise, fanfare and romance, carried the bride onto the property of his father’s home. Once again, the bride and groom would enter a huppah, recite a blessing over the wine (a symbol of joy), and finalize their vows. Now in their home, the bride and groom lived out their covenant of marriage – the traditional Jewish version of “and they lived happily ever after.”

In her book, “Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas,” Elaine Pagels suggests that John’s gospel is a direct response to the emerging Christology of the community that gathered around Thomas, which is why John portrays Thomas as having a theologically challenged Christology. Now as then, different Christian communities have different
understandings of Jesus and can hold conflicting beliefs of how to interpret Jesus and the stories that are our collective legacy about him.

While both the Gospel of John and the Gospel of Thomas value the individual’s relationship with Christ, The Gospel of John and its basic tenets seem to be in direct opposition to Thomas. John says that he writes “so that you may believe, and believing may have life in [Jesus’] name.” Thomas’s gospel, however, encourages us not so much to believe in Jesus, as John says, as to seek to know God through one’s own, divinely given capacity, since all are created in the image of God. The Gospel of John speaks from a multivalent symbol system in which there are “rooms” for each person to have a unique relationship with Christ but which are also an interconnected part of the common household of the Father. The Gospel of John, therefore, provides a foundation for a unified church, which the Gospel of Thomas, with its emphasis on each person’s search for God, did/does not.

For the author of the Gospel of John, the belief that Jesus is the Messiah is sufficient common ground for unity. Each believer is a bride to Jesus the groom, expressed and experienced through Baptism and communion. The house of Christ’s Father has many rooms, because Christ has prepared a place for each person that the Father has approved or “given to him.” When John reports Thomas asking, “How do we know where you are going?” the question represents the emphasis John perceives in the Thomasine community regarding the path of gnosis, which appears to focus on secret knowledge held by the few over belief that makes God readily accessible to all. The response given by Jesus, “I am the way and the truth and the life,” emphasizes John’s teaching on the primacy of belief. In the Gospel of John, a community of believers is bonded together through a shared belief that Jesus is the Messiah, while also making room for the validity of individual relationship with God through a shared and public belief.

For the author of the Gospel of John, the Christian community for whom the author is writing is diverse, informed by mystery traditions and covenant traditions, populated with peoples drawn from multiple faith traditions, histories, and cultures indicative of the Roman Empire. What they hold in common is a desire for liberation from tenants of the belief systems influential in their time (Jewish and Roman) that restrained them from practicing social and spiritual equality before God and with one another. Every individual in the community of the faithful has free and equal access to God, and the way to that access is by agreeing to enter a spiritual union with Christ that while mystical is not at all mysterious, and while binding is not legalistic in nature but rather a mutual commitment to love one another. Personal love for God is expressed in one’s commitment to live together in community, as represented by the many rooms in the Father’s unified house.

Throughout the generations of the church, ideas of how to achieve unity amidst our Christian diversity has been often elusive. We identify instruments or statements with which we are expected to agree, but such relationships seem always to be conditional. Alternatively, in the Gospel of John, we are all of us brides in love with the same groom, and if we are truly in love with God, then our hearts ought not to be troubled – for truthfully, in our Father’s house, there are many rooms. Within an incarnational theology of the Body of Christ — the church — the rooms are ours to build for one another. For John, the concluding line, “No one comes to the Father except through me,” is not exclusionary. Rather, the symbols used throughout the gospel convey that everyone can have access to God, if they simply believe in the love that Christ has for them and live by the wide embrace of that covenant for all people.

Life On Earth vs. Death by Patriarchy

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Singing Bird

Top Song Birds in America – Song Sparrow photographed by Bill Leman

In the mid-1940s, environmentalist Rachel Carson became concerned about the broad use of synthetic pesticides in the United States. Many synthetic pesticides had been developed through the military funding of science following World War II, and Carson’s friends living on Long Island noticed that while the local application of DDT was killing insects, it was also killing birds.

Because of the impact on bird populations, the Audubon Naturalist Society actively opposed chemical spraying programs and recruited Carson to help publicize the U.S. government’s spraying practices and related research. Carson then began a four-year project gathering examples of environmental damage attributed to DDT. By the end of her research, she had investigated hundreds of individual incidents of pesticide exposure and the resulting human sickness and ecological damage. Her conclusions were published in 1962 as the book entitled “Silent Spring,” a metaphorical title suggesting a bleak future for the entirety of the natural world, not only the literal predicted absence of birdsong.

The development of chemical and herbicidal warfare gave rise to the domestic application of the same chemicals by the corporations that developed them. On September 20, 2016, top executives from Bayer, Monsanto, DuPont, Dow Chemical, and Syngenta testified before the US Senate Judiciary Committee in Washington D.C. asking federal regulators to approve mega-mergers between the corporations, which have today fundamentally reorganized global agriculture. (Executives from the sixth company involved in the consolidation, China National Chemical Corp., declined an invitation to appear at the hearing.)

The worldview that allows for and supports the exploitation of natural resources is linked with patriarchal socio-cultural systems that are characterized by competition for land, the control of women and children, and subjugating peoples of other cultures considered to be threatening to nationalistic concepts of racial and biological purity. Social power within patriarchal systems is all about control – of men and women, of resources, of economies, of leaderships, and of nature itself. The patriarchal system is preoccupied with structures of dominance and submission, a dynamic that has put both human societies and Earth’s ecosystems in peril.

Carolyn Merchant is an American ecofeminist philosopher and historian of science. She is most famous for her theory presented in her book, “The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology, and the Scientific Revolution” (1980), in which she identifies the Enlightenment as the period when science began to objectify nature as an inert resource for exploitation that needed to be forcibly dissected in order to be made to give up its riches and power. Her book and theory continue to be relevant in today’s Anthropocene era of globalization and global climate change. I highly recommend Merchant’s book, and she is currently Professor of Environmental History, Philosophy, and Ethics at UC Berkeley.

Just a few days ago, I read an article by Catwhipple in “The Circle” (an online magazine for Native American news and arts).  The article, Sex, Fossil Fuels, and Matriarchal Economics, connects the dots between exploitation of the environment by the oil industry with the phenomenon of missing and murdered indigenous women plaguing the United States and Canada.

Catwhipple writes:

The man camps and the consistent violence against Native women which occurs at the hands of the fossil fuels industry is a huge issue, and it’s also the metaphor. “Let me shove this pipeline down your throat”. That’s basically what the MN PUC [Minnesota Public Utilities Commission] just said to Native people, with the approval of the permits for Enbridge’s Line 3. That’s what $11 million worth of lobbying will buy you in Minnesota. The rape of the north and the rape of Native women. How much more graphic than “let me shove this down your throat…” do I have to be?  Consent is consent. Consent is about sex and consent is about pipelines and megaprojects. In the old days, the company men and their governments used to just rape and pillage. That was how it went. It’s not supposed to be those days now.

Sadly, most people realize that the days of colonialism, racism, and patriarchy remain a powerful influence. However, the current national and global struggles may indicate the last stand of a system that perceives its immanent demise.  The truth behind climate change is that either our current socio-cultural system is radically transformed or this planet will die by our collective hand.

Affecting many nations, men and women who identify with the toxic system of patriarchal authority and privilege have girded their collective loins today for what seems to be a 12th hour stand against those who don’t see nature or women as ultimately expendable.  Women and nature are inextricably linked within the patriarchal worldview, which long has been the dominant system informing resource exploitation and the oppression of peoples. What once may have contributed to the aggressive survival of our species is now condemning all other species to death, along with our own.

The origin of the term ecofeminism is attributed the French writer Françoise d’Eaubonne in her book “Le Féminisme ou la Mort” (1974). Ecofeminist theory posits that a feminist perspective of ecology does not place women in the dominant position of power, but rather calls for an egalitarian society in which there is no one dominant group.

As d’Eaubonne defines the approach, ecofeminism relates to the oppression and domination of all marginalized groups (women, people of color, children, the poor) to the oppression and domination of nature (animals, land, water, air, etc.). The author argues that oppression, domination, exploitation, and colonization from the Western patriarchal society has directly caused irreversible environmental damage.  With the rate of species extinction growing exponentially with each successive generation of humans, the impact of human habitation has had a catastrophic impact on every habitat. As ecofeminism makes clear, any positive change of course requires an accompanying change of the basic socio-cultural structures and economic practices informed by the patriarchal influences in many developed nations.

Socially conservative and militant expressions of the Abrahamic faiths in particular need to be challenged. The development of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam each substantively arose within patriarchal societies as ideologies under-girding and legitimating the subjugation of women that accompanied the conquering of lands, including the habitats with all the species and resources therein.

Progressive Christian theologians and writers have long championed a rediscovery or socio-cultural archaeology of early Christian belief and context. We frame an understanding of the ministry and teaching of Jesus that emphasizes the transformational nature of love for one’s neighbor, care of community, and liberation from systems of oppression. The resistance to forces of empire calls for the social movement away from patriarchal structures and norms to those that emphasizes human equality, care of creation as a vital imperative, equitable economy, and governing principles that assure the same.

Recently, the current United States administration’s opposition to abortion has led to the watering-down of a United Nations Security Council resolution condemning rape as a weapon of war and reaffirming the UN’s opposition to sexual violence. However, the US – along with China and Russia – insisted on removing all references to women’s sexual and reproductive health or else the three countries would veto the resolution.

The US administration opposed all mentions of reproductive health on the grounds that health services for women victimized by rape during times of war implied support for abortion. The administration has taken measures to avoid supporting efforts and organizations that provide abortion services to women, including victims of rape.

CNN reported that the US move against the UN resolution is “just another expression of the contempt that this administration has for women’s rights and reproductive health and rights,” said Stacie Murphy, Director of Congressional Relations at Population Connection Action Fund. “It’s certainly typical of this administration when it comes to anything having to do with reproductive rights, sexual assault,” Murphy said.

The current administration of the United States is a casebook example of how the patriarchal worldview – supported in this instance by a conservative Christian belief system – is operating at this moment and in our generation to obliterate those voices, lives, and landscapes most affected by its consequences. Violence against women is not only aided and abetted, it is sanctioned and frequently legislated.

Women are not the only one’s negatively impacted and subjugated within patriarchal systems. Patriarchal norms place men at risk in terms of their physical, mental, and spiritual health. Emerging literature on toxic masculinity illuminates our country’s current struggles with gun violence, the prison industry, violence towards women, and racism – just to name a few examples.

A recent article in the New York Times by Wil S. Hylton describes how as a young man he was influenced by the behavioral modelling of a male cousin. The author was drawn to cousin’s strength, his bravado, his violence until his cousin physically assaulted him, placing his life in jeopardy. As Hylton shares his story, we learn how the episode forced him to come to terms with how that idea of masculinity poisoned his cousin’s life and his own. Reading Hylton’s story is like watching someone, with their last breath after a harrowing climb, plant a flag in the top of an unfathomable cultural iceberg. It’s chilling, and no man should have to endure it, but Hylton makes us have to look.

Jared Yates Sexton has written about the challenges that men have to “detoxify their masculinity” in his newly released book, “The Man They Wanted Me to Be: Toxic Masculinity and the Crisis of Our Own Making.” Sexton addresses toxic masculinity as, “An especially potent and toxic system of power and control that has subjugated women and minorities for generations via methodical and organized actions powered by misogyny and racism, a unique brand of maleness that has held sway over the United States of America since before its founding.”

Perhaps, the results of our 2016 national election and the resulting societal destruction over the subsequent years have helped to illuminate the psychology behind patriarchy. Additional social factors such as the unrelenting phenomenon of mass shootings in schools and in places of worship are social symptoms of a common cause affecting our entire national life and role on the world stage.

Our current administration has made legislative incursion into our national parks, lands previously set aside as wilderness areas, and treaty lands held by Native American communities.  The language of climate change has been deleted from government websites and reports, while traditional energy corporations continue dangerous resource extraction methods and alternative energy resources are resisted.  Incursions have been made into legislating control over women’s bodies, depriving LGBTQ persons of basic benefits and employment, consolidating control over natural resources, jeopardizing long-standing peace negotiations and historical alliances, criminalizing refugees, and protecting gun rights ownership over the rights of children.

The voices of scientists, physicians, ecologists, progressive theologians, journalists, park rangers, Native leaders, human rights advocates, international representatives working for peace and social justice – all of these voices are being vilified by those invested in preserving the worldview that is now killing all of us and all of life on earth. We must keep speaking, writing, resisting, and insisting on justice and equity for all and for Nature herself.

The hateful movement of conquer and divide must be replaced with the loving movement of resist and unite. We are in the midst of a critical historical moment of social transformation, and we must be willing to take the reins of our social direction and not accept the bit being forced upon us by those who claim that life is sacred when all their actions speak otherwise. We must strive beside one another for the change that brings greater justice to all people as well as to our waterways, lands, and air.

The desperate ultimate landscape presented in Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring” has haunted my fears since I was a child and first encountered her prophetic work. I need the birds to sing, which is why I pledge to them every morning – as they greet the rising sun –  that I will do all that I can so that their song will not be lost, that every spring will hold their voices of hope, endurance, and perseverance. If they can speak with such resolve, so must I –  and so must we all.

Following the Indigenous Jesus

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Author’s Note: I wrote this reflection for my parish’s newsletter after returning from the interfaith clergy gathering at the Oceti Sakowin Camp that took place on
November 3, 2016
native-maddona-and-child

For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden,
because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed,
so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.  2 Cor 5:4

The last week of October was very difficult for me.

I have been close to Native ministries in The Episcopal Church for almost sixteen years now. I have experienced many joys and developed friendships that sustain me in crucial ways in the many ministries into which I am called in the church. I have remained present and supportive over the years within many of the difficult but important relationships which characterize The Episcopal Church’s organizational relationship with indigenous communities throughout the Provinces of the church, as well as within many nations that are a part of the Anglican Communion.

I have served as a member of two indigenous delegations sent by The Episcopal Church to participate in international meetings of indigenous peoples within the Anglican Communion – at a meeting in Australia and another in New Zealand. I served for five years on The Episcopal Church’s Executive Council Committee on Indigenous Ministries, before it was disbanded due to budget cuts by General Convention 2015 along with a majority of other committees, councils and advisory boards. I currently serve on the Presiding Bishop’s Indigenous Missioner Search Committee, even now engaged in the search for The Episcopal Church’s next Indigenous Missioner.

I have served in indigenous ministries within the Diocese of Olympia, since I arrived here in 2000. My tribal affiliation is the Shackan Band of the Nicola Tribal Association in British Columbia, and I remain the first and only (known) indigenous person ordained by our diocese. At this time, I am proud to be part of the supportive community of two indigenous men who are currently in the ordination process, each of whom I have known for several years. Many of you know Allen Hicks (Citizen Potawatomi Nation), and some may know Daren Chidester (Aleut/Athabaskan).

The Episcopal Indigenous Network in the Diocese of Olympia is a small but dedicated group of indigenous Episcopalians. We were glad to recently sponsor The Rev. Branden Mauai – an Episcopal Deacon from the Standing Rock Sioux reservation – to be a guest of our diocesan convention in October, when he presented two workshops about what is happening in the conflict between the Standing Rock Sioux and Energy Transfer Partners – the organization building the Dakota Access Pipeline through the historic treaty lands (and sacred burial areas) of the Standing Rock Sioux.

Our Indigenous Network also sponsored two letters and a petition calling for the cessation of building the Dakota Access Pipeline as part of creating greater opportunities for cross-cultural dialogue that respects the dignity of the Standing Rock Sioux and the historical trauma of indigenous peoples in our country (which greatly informs the current moment). The letters and petition were signed by members of Diocesan Convention and are being sent to the U.S Army Corps of Engineers, the Governor’s Office in North Dakota and the White House.

On the same weekend of our Diocesan Convention (October 21 and 22), The Executive Council of The Episcopal Church met. As part of their business meeting, they passed a resolution, formally requesting that law-enforcement officials, “De-escalate military and police provocation in and near the campsites of peaceful protest and witness of the Dakota Access Pipeline project.”

Five days later, police and security forces from six states joined various police agencies in North Dakota in a heavily militarized operation to remove indigenous peoples and other Water Protectors from a camp located on historic treaty lands that blocked the “progress” of the pipeline constructions.

On October 27, I watched the coordinated, militarized assault take place over live streaming video from indigenous friends and contacts at Standing Rock, and I was horrified. I saw a whole new generation of indigenous youth being traumatized by an all too familiar pattern of systemic aggression and racism. When our Presiding Bishop, The Most Reverend Michael Curry, visited Standing Rock in September, he shared that in his opinion, Standing Rock could be the Native peoples’ “Selma,’ in terms of civil rights justice. I think that the Presiding Bishop is correct in his assessment.

Immediately following the Executive Council meeting, The Rev. John Floberg (a member of Executive Council and rector of St. James in Cannon Ball, ND) issued a call to Episcopal Clergy in particular but to religious leaders and laity of all traditions, to come together for prayer on November 3, in a peaceful demonstration of solidarity with the Standing Rock Sioux and Water Protectors. Our bishop, The Rt. Rev. Greg Rickel, is supportive of my participation in the event, and I will be at Standing Rock for the first week of November. Barring any travel delays, I will be presiding at our Sunday services celebrating All Saints on November 6th.

Later in the month, beginning November 15th, I will be travelling to Nepal to participate in a long-planned service trip to bring medical and educational supplies to villages still engaged in the process of recovery from the earthquake that took place in April of last year. The trip to Nepal is my continuing education project for 2016. I have a professional ministerial interest in studying how unique faith traditions (such as Buddhism) provide psychological and spiritual support during times of community disaster. This work is related to my ongoing role as board-certified professional chaplain, who can be deployed to provide support to first responders and victims during times of national and community crisis.

I feel that I will be responding to two very different but equally real national disasters this month – one still actively emerging in our country and one still in recovery in Nepal.

As many challenges as there are in our nation and in our world, the sincere practice of our faith – whatever that faith may be – is crucial to our personal ability and collective responsibility to be centered in peace and committed to love.

In the Prayers of the People of our Book of Common Prayer, our collective prayers are always to include prayers for: 1) the members and mission of the Church, 2) our nation and those who hold authority, 3) the welfare of the world, 4) the concerns of the local community, 5) those who suffer and those in trouble, and 6) the saints and those who have died.

I know that for me, both personally and professionally, I will be engaged in prayer for all of the above and more on a daily basis. As with the network of indigenous peoples within our diocese, I cannot do all that God calls me to do, without you. Whether I am serving you, or indigenous peoples in our diocese, or people in other countries, Trinity is my home. Let us pray for one another, and let us give thanks together for the eternal promise of freedom and peace that God gave to the world through the Nativity of his son, Jesus Christ – our Savior and our Lord.

The Episcopal Spiritual Warrior

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Author’s Note: I originally wrote this reflection after the results of the presidential election in November 2016.  I have meant to post it here for some time, but the last quarter of the year was intensely busy, and I will be playing catch up in my writing for a while. Thank you for your patience, Dear Readers. One of my personal resolutions for 2017 is to return to a more regular discipline as a writer as an important aspect of my own self care, since writing is a source of great joy for me as is like oxygen to the lungs of my soul.

oceti-sakowin-camp-clergy-gathering

As many of you may be aware, I have recently returned from participating in an interfaith gathering at the Oceti Sakowin Camp of the Standing Rock Sioux Nation in North Dakota. The faith leadership that that came together was very diverse. Between us, we represented 22 different faith traditions – both lay and ordained. One leader noted with some irony that though many of our traditions are struggling with internal unity within our respective faith communities, we had been drawn together in a common purpose upon which we could all agree – “Mni Wiconi,” Water Is Sacred.

At the camp, I witnessed that though burdened by centuries of injustice, Lakota youth, young adults and elders alike are responding with tremendous dignity, strength and courage to the current situation in which they are being physically brutalized and their concerns ignored. They have not accepted the role of victim that would have their spirit ground into the earth beneath them. Rather, they seem to have taken strength from the earth for which they fight; they have roots in their faith and identity that are far deeper than prejudice and hatred can rip from them. Their tribal governance calls them to non-violent action, and their traditional faith calls them to live from an understanding of their deep interconnection with all things. They are genuinely Spiritual Warriors, grounded in their cultural values of prayer, respect, compassion, honesty, generosity, humility and wisdom.

Against the backdrop of the faith leadership gathering at Standing Rock and the examples of spiritual courage that I repeatedly witnessed among the Lakota people there, I could not help but reflect on the ways my faith tradition of the Episcopal Church and my identity as an Episcopalian equip me for times of challenge and conflict. For, indeed, our faith tradition was born from a time of conflict, having emerged at the end of the American Revolution when our fledgling nation gained it’s independence from England. The historical journey of our faith tradition has not been an easy one, with internal conflicts arising over every possible concern – from what liturgical garments to wear (if any) to the role of women in church governance and holy orders; from the language of our prayer books to the services we use in worship; and from the segregation of black worshipers to the assimilation of indigenous peoples. There are certainly many more historical tensions that could be listed.

Out of our history of institutional and social conflict and rebellion, it seems to me that something tremendously life giving has arisen. Through the course of time, The Episcopal Church has grown into its spiritual values and identity in ways that comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. Today, through our Canons and Resolves, we are committed to inclusion of all persons – of all gender identities, orientations of love, and ethnicities- in all levels of our governance and in all ecclesiastical orders of the church. We recognize the sanctity of the Earth and are dedicated to Environmental Justice; we strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth. We provide relief to human need by providing loving service throughout the world – regardless of faith, creed or nationality. We seek to transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and to pursue peace and reconciliation. We proclaim and teach the Good News of the Kingdom – not as a cudgel by which to beat others into submission, but as an empowering source of liberation for all of life in the precious diversity that God has made and blessed by calling The Diversity, “Good.”

No matter what the polity of our nation or those who hold authority, as Episcopalians, we have vowed through the promises of our Baptismal Covenant to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as ourselves and – with the help of God – to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being. Our church will not alter this commitment, regardless of who is president or what party is in power. In the separation of church and state within this nation, the relevance of the values of our faith tradition is clear. The Episcopal Church will continue to stand with the poor and the marginalized, to challenge injustice, to strive for greater justice and equality among all peoples, and to advocate for those who have come to this country seeking a life free from fear and in the fullness of the liberty from which our Church itself arose.

Through the lens of my experiences at the Oceti Sakowin camp, I have come to understand that Episcopalians are Spiritual Warriors. We strive to be co-creators in achieving the liberating reality of justice in this world that is the Kingdom of God. We are grounded in values of inclusivity, love, peace, stewardship and prayer. We seek authenticity in our language and actions. We are committed to life-long education and honoring the diverse worldviews, cultures and peoples of God’s Creation. We encourage the growth of the whole person in body, mind and spirit – so that all who enter through our red doors will feel able to bring their whole self into the Sanctuary of our Church.

At Trinity Episcopal Church in Everett – as with many congregations – we have a very big tent. All Are Welcome in this place. This promise will not change.