After we die, what to do with our bodies? A spiritual pondering.

Perhaps because it's All Saints Day, or perhaps because I've been thinking more about death and dying for a church project I'm working on, I've been thinking more about how we commit our bodies after death. It seems most people I know are favoring cremation--it's tidy and neat, it's compact; perhaps the idea of distributing ashes over a place we love is meaningful.  And it avoids embalming, which seems to creep people out.  Cremation has been my preferred method, but lately I've been thinking about a good-old pine box.

In my time spent with Native Americans, I have come to appreciate the greater connection to the earth that is part of their spirituality.  They have a deep sense of kinship and relationship with the earth, an ancient way of understanding what has taken the rest of us thousands of years to grasp:  the  idea of the earth as a single system, and how the decay of our bodies participates in that system and helps it regenerate life.  The excellent and sensitive blog on SevenPonds.com shares some of what we can learn from their perspective:

While beliefs and traditions vary widely from tribe to tribe, like religious practices and death rituals the world over, the similarities are perhaps just as striking.  In most cases the dead would be cleansed or purified in some manner, and whether they were cremated, buried, or interred in a wood or adobe tomb, the dead were handled with respect, and separated form the living.  And one further common thread in American Indian beliefs: an overarching respect for Mother Nature; the earth, the sky, the trees and the animals. An acceptance of our oneness with all that is around us. Indeed, one could say that they kept hold of a form of knowledge that more urbanized peoples tried so hard to forget, and are now perhaps coming to recall: that, like it or not, we humans are a part of nature. We suffer from illness, we adapt to changes in the climate. When we die, our bodies decompose, and we become a part of that which we come from. Our biological material is recycled and re-distributed, and, in a small way, even if we do not believe in an afterlife, we live on as our biological matter, the sum total of our lifetime's experiences, is reabsorbed into the cycle of life.  Perhaps, we can try to find some comfort in this.  

The preparation of Jesus' body for burial is described in John 19:40:  They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.  Jewish practices reflect an ancient wisdom of knowing the connectedness of humans and creation; it is embedded in Genesis 3:19, which says: By the sweat of your face, you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.  (Put another way, as this beautiful video affirms and astrophysics now confirms, we are made of stardust.)  Accordingly, in Judaism, there is a tradition of earthen burial, and against cremation or embalming.  Jewish law mandates quick burial in a simple pine box.  Traditions in Islam are much the same.

The Jewish tradition of leaving a stone on a grave is a visual sign of their memory of that person. 

Certainly there are also very old traditions of burning the body. An interesting post from A Grave Interest blog looks at a number of different religious traditions, Buddhism and Hinduism, for example, with a tradition of cremation.

But it's not just what we do, but how we imbue it with sacred meaning.  My post today was inspired by a meditation from one of my favorite Episcopalians, the Right Reverend Steven Charleston, former Bishop of Alaska, on the burial traditions of his people, the Choctaw.  Reflecting on All Saints Day, he shared:

Long ago my people practiced communal burial. We thought it would be a lonely thing to bury a person alone, so we gathered the bones of our loved ones and buried them together. In this way the bonds of love were unbroken. A person was never outside the community. We were born in community, lived in community, and not even death could remove us from our community. Family was the strength of the people, the sacred way of life. Kinship continued forever. This time of year I always remember that. Those we love are never lost to us.  They are here, now, living their lives in a new way. The bonds of love are unbroken.  

For another perspective on natural burial, you might be interested in the Urban Death Project, a Seattle-based group advocating a process which "safely and gently turns our deceased into soil-building material, creating a meaningful, equitable, and ecological urban alternative to existing options for the disposal of the dead."  As they say:

Because death is momentous, miraculous, and mysterious 

Because the cycles of nature help us grieve and heal

Because our bodies are full of life-giving potential

We propose a new option for laying our loved ones to rest. 

My own view is that "the good death" we all so desire is inclusive of a "good" disposition of our body.  It is one more unique opening for considering where we come from, whose we are, and what  is our legacy within a deeply religious and spiritual context.

However we decide to commit our body to earth, practices that shield us from natural decay, disrespect the body, disconnect us from the earth, dis-involve our families and community, and pollute the earth or needlessly abuse its resources, are spiritually deficient.  We should not miss the opportunity to imbue this most important of passages with sacred meaning.

Here, from our Book of Common Prayer is a prayer which captures the spirit of good burial:

In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister N., and we commend her to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust. The Lord bless her and keep her, the Lord make his face to shine upon her and be gracious unto her, the Lord lift up his countenance upon her and give her peace.  Amen. 

"Mistakes were made" -- thoughts on Mars Hill and the problem of the absolutely free church

I'm not really a big watcher of trends in the evangelical church, not considering myself an evangelical (even though I go to an evangelical seminary--that's another blog post).  But I care about the universal church, and this means dialogue with and about the diversity of the people of God.  And, I am interested in church "innovation" -- what's working in churches in the so-called post-Christian era.

Or, in the case of Mars Hill, whats not working.

Who hasn't heard about the controversy around Mark Driscoll and Mars Hill, the Seattle mega-church? Driscoll was recently asked by the MH board of elders to step down, but his macho "not for sissies" idea of Christianity, and the absolute authority he wields at Mars Hill has been criticized for years, although defended by many congregants there.  I know people up at several Episcopal churches in Seattle who regularly receive "refugees" from Mars Hill:  I have heard some about the damage done by their model and by their theology.  The theology isn't what I want to take up, though.  The question that's been going through my mind is, who decided this guy could lead a church in the first place?

The answer, pretty much, is that he did.  Although no doubt, with the claim that God told him to.

Which leads me to the problem of the absolutely free church.

I like to think of the various denominational and non-denominational churches which proliferate the protestant landscape as on a continuum, from most to least "churchy," churchy meaning adhering to a degree of centralized church structure (sometimes called "polity") with some hierarchy and administration, the expectation of conformity to doctrine, canons or bylaws, a particular governance structure, and the like.  Lacking a Pope and a global leader with any real power, the Episcopal Church is not as churchy as the Roman Catholic church in this regard, but it's a lot churchier than the Baptist church.  To non-denominational evangelicals, the freedom to do their thing is essential to their identity--it's what they think the Reformation was meant to accomplish.  This is why evangelicals tend to have a highly individualistic and entrepreneurial approach to church planting.  If the Spirit moves them, they just do it.  In Mark Driscoll's case, his plant became a mega-church, so successful (at least in numbers and wealth) that it became a virtual franchise, with fifteen locations.

The non-churchiest churches get to say for themselves who is qualified to preach or lead, and they frequently claim to get their authority to discern this directly from God, via the Holy Spirit, with a dose of Scripture to frame their case biblically. Contrast this with the Episcopal church, where the process of being ordained is heavily vetted and structured, involving congregational and diocesan committees, an advanced degree, a criminal background check and psychological exam, an ordination exam, and a chaplaincy and congregational internship. In short, the distance between feeling "called" to be a priest in the Episcopal Church and getting to be one is vast compared to the obstacles in place for a free evangelical.

All these rules and regs can seem onerous to someone from a "free church" background. But they also support standards, quality control, and a system of governance that doesn't allow power to be concentrated in any one place.  It is true that Acts 29 expelled Mars Hill and called for Driscoll's resignation, but the network (which was founded by Driscoll) couldn't make him step down. Indeed, the Acts 29 network seems largely designed to create efficiencies for its members, although it draws a line in the sand on certain matters of Christian doctrine.

It's fair to say that a churchier system isn't perfect--there are definitely bad actors in leadership in more structured churches, and the churches themselves can suffer from slowness, sameness, lack of innovation, and a bloated institutional church dedicated to self-perpetuation. It's also fair to say that plenty of non-denominational pastors are discerning, educated, and well-qualified to lead.

In the business world, entrepreneurial energy is prized, and it's also necessary in the church (we could definitely use more of it in mine.)  But there are also rules and regulations that constrain businesses from abusing market power and harming consumers. Even self-regulated professions like accountancy and medicine have examining boards and qualification standards.  What is the equivalent in these strictures in free, non-denominational churches?  As a self-started and self-regulated entity, what was in place at Mars Hill that could have prevented Mark Driscoll from abusing his power?  And what's in place to keep the next Mark Driscoll from planting another church in God's name?

Christians who idolize guns

Another week, another school shooting--this time closer to my home. It was at Reynolds High in Troutdale, Oregon, and it involved two freshmen--one killed, the other the killer.  There appears to be no connection between the two; the 15-year-old killer simply wanted to kill someone--or many people, judging by the ammunition he was packing.  His victim was just fourteen. Fourteen. This is age of my own sweet nephew, who is a freshman at a high school just a few miles away.

Once again, we say, "how long!!??" Once again, we say, "WHY?"  My Facebook friends erupted in despair and anger and outrage. I am outraged, and saddened, and frustrated. I want to curse and rail against the NRA. I want elected officials who cower under its influence to be brought to their knees. I have had wild flashes of mock shootings of the children of some of these people, to bring home to them the cost of our country's irrational lust and idolatry for guns and violence.

Just how much we love guns is apparent in the chart above, which shows the number of guns per 100 people in the world by country.  It is obscene. It is sinful.  It stares us in the face.  The article explains how it relates to deaths, and it's not a simple correlation.

The bottom line:

The American firearm homicide rate is about 20 times the average among Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development countries (excluding Mexico).

Harvard researchers Daniel Hemenway and Matthew Miller examined 26 developed countries, and checked whether gun ownership correlated with murder rates. They found that "a highly significant positive correlation between total homicide rates and both proxies for gun availability." They also didn't find much evidence that a higher rate of gun murders led to lower rates of other kinds of murder (i.e., stabbings)."

There is indeed something idolatrous about the love for guns in our country, and something very broken about a people who refuse to yield on gun restrictions in spite of their terrible cost.

In my reading I came across this message from  Rev Chuck Currie, a UCC minister who commented on Tuesday's shootings:  "Too many people worship guns instead of God. But God calls us to be people of reconciliation and justice. We are told to turn our weapons into plowshares. Each act of fun violence is another opportunity for all of us - politicians and citizens - to demand a better society. There is too much violence in our society. The dead will not forgive us if we do not seek a more just world for our children." 

I applaud these words.  I agree that the spiritual underpinnings of the gun problem are profound--and yet, surprisingly, some who claim to worship God also worship guns, and that is part of the problem.

In fact, the Second Amendment narrative of many right-wing gun enthusiasts is wrapped up with the idea of our being a "Christian nation."  I so struggle with this juxtaposition of being Christian and loving guns, and worse, of failing to see how the culture of gun idolatry is syncretized with faith.

One day while perusing Etsy, I began to notice there is an extensive category of bullet jewelry.  At first, I wondered if they were made with a redemptive purpose, but the many artists making it seem to be doing so in a completely un-ironic way.  To them, bullets reflect their deep love of gun culture:  they are beautiful, to be celebrated.  The cross motif, in fact, is popular in bullet jewelry.  I found necklaces like the one below, made by Courtney Humes.  Her store, Ricochet Rounds, sells "bullet jewelry with Southern charm." In fact, if you want Courtney to make your jewelry, you can even choose the brand and caliber and bullet you want.

Her bio describes Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. "Two years ago," she writes, "I wouldn't have dreamed that I would be the owner, designer and maker of bullet jewelry…but God's plans for me are so much better than mine!"  Courtney also has three children:  I wonder that she has not connected her craft to the school shootings, where the same bullets she uses in her jewelry are taking the lives of the children of others. I wonder if she has given any of the money she makes from her bullet jewelry to causes which promote gun ownership.

I find this jewelry repellant--it is against everything Christ wants us to be in the world.  There is nothing transformative or redemptive about it.  It tells me that there is a deep need for repentance and healing for so many who, like Courtney, profess to be Christians and yet do not do the will or work of Christ in the world.

In contrast, I remembered that I had once encountered these small crosses, which had been fashioned out of spent shell-cases from the conflict in Liberia.  You could buy them for a few dollars each, as a means to support livelihoods of the people who had crafted them from shells that littered the ground in that war-torn region.

There was something lovely about them; they reflected the power of love and hope and resilience to transform something painful and hellish into something life-giving. How sad that spent bullets are so plentiful that they were a resource. But how poignant to refuse to let them remain instruments of killing. They seemed to be in the spirit of weapons to plowshares of which Reverend Curry spoke.

I pray that all the bullets in the world would be converted to crosses which restore life and livelihood, instead of taking it.  But so much must change. Along with legislation, our culture must change, and our hearts must change--including the hearts of many, many people who claim to be Christian.

P.S. I can't find the Liberian crosses anymore, but I did find necklaces by a Liberian artist made from spent shell cases.  The proceeds go to support the Strongheart Foundation.  Now that's more like it!!

Native Portland Series, 12: Seeing Each Other, Seeing Ourselves

Putting together this Native tour has been interesting and engaging for me. It's one part of an overall exercise to begin to fill in gaps in my awareness of both the history and experience of the people who have come before settlers like me.  As a member of the dominant culture, I have learned that not only do I not see the experience of others, but I have not even known that I didn't see them. If my culture is the air I breathe and everything about today's Portland was built largely by and for people like me, in order that we might thrive, it is very unlikely that I will see that others have been here, are here, and are still contributing to this community. It is very unlikely that I will see my connection to them, and appreciate them as fellow members of the community of creation. This tour is just the beginning. It is about beginning to see.  About becoming one who watches.

"She Who Watches" petroglyph
Columbia River Gorge
Photo, Lewis and Clark Trail site

A tour is in some ways one dimensional, while the actual relationships and experiences borne out of encounter are three dimensional.  I acknowledge that I did not go very far in establishing relationships with the people behind some of these sites, or in confronting what is behind the images or stories as opposed to how they ended up being represented.  These are subsequent steps for me as I undertake this journey.  I will just leave with a few observations: 

• Be curious. If you could do one thing, it would be to go to my place name post, below, and find a street or river around you with a Native American name, and begin to find out what and who is behind that name and how it connects to the place you are today.  
• Native people are still here, and are still standing in their Native identity.  As well, their experience, values and culture remain as a unique and challenging balance to the dominant way of thinking and way of understanding.  It is so important to seek their voice, and to hear it.
• I was gratified to see that Native voices are apparently beginning to be sought for expression, such as in newer public art, and in consultation, such as in the naming of the Tilikum Crossing.  I know from a friend at Grand Ronde, however, that it is often the tribes who find out about something like the bridge name, and it is they who reach out and say, "would you like to work with us?" It would be good if our public figures included their voices from the beginning; furthermore, if their voices were already represented among our leadership.
• Some of the "sentimental" representations of Native history, such as the statues in Washington Park, need to be placed in context.  Their existence really begs the question, "what were you thinking?"  (And I mean that in a neutral and open way.  "Really--what were you thinking?")  This a teaching moment.  What would it look like if we were to ask Lillian Pitt to construct a statue in response to each one of those, and put it adjacent to it?  What could we learn?  We need this to learn not only about the Native perspective, but about how our own can evolve.  What does how we capture "their story" say about our own history?  
• The organizations that claim to be representing history have major adjustments to make in how they tell their stories.  I would call out the Clackamas Historical sites as chief among these. If we went to a German historical museum that had an exhibit about "the history of Jews in Germany" showing all the artifacts they left behind and where they used to live, but had no mention of the holocaust, we would see it as a major disconnect.  Similarly, representing the history of Native peoples merely as "they used to be here," followed by the history of settlement as if white people arrived to a blank canvas, is seriously misrepresenting the truth.  
• I learned from my Native colleagues that they wish to be regarded as the host people of this land.  In that respect, what incredibly bad guests we have been, and continue to be, and how gracious they always are as hosts when we take interest and show an open mind and heart to who they are.  In nearly every encounter with settlers, the Native people were first gracious and welcoming.  What can we learn about them, about the land, and about ourselves, when we begin to regard as ourselves as fortunate to be here, with them, in this land that has been their home for thousands and thousands of years? 

I would love to see this tour traveled and told from the point of view of others, including Native members of our community. I will have limited time to continue to update it, so I am happy for others to build on and expand what I have done.  Please let me know your own experience!!! 

Peace.

Native Portland Series, 11: A Native American Methodist Fellowship, and NAYA

Find all Native Tour stops on the tour map.

The last two stops on the Native Portland tour speak to communities of Native Americans still active in the greater Portland area.

The first is tucked into a quiet North Portland neighborhood.  It's a Native American fellowship who meet at the Wilshire United Methodist Church, and it's the only entry I could find under "Native American Church" in a Google church. I suspect there are more?

Photo:  Wilshire NAF website

NAYA 

Nearby, on Columbia Blvd, you can find NAYA:  The North American Youth and Family Center, which is a gathering place for the 36,000 urban Native Americans in the Portland area and all over the region.  Now 40 years old, its many functions occupy a former elementary school and there is a ton going on:  from college and careers services, economic development and community development, community engagement and issues advocacy, elder services and foster care support, help with housing and home ownership, camps, and lots of other youth recreation and education programs.  One really interesting program there is the Early College Academy, which integrates local Native culture, family and community outreach, and partnerships with Portland Community College and other postsecondary institutions. The program offers a high school diploma and/or college credit. 

 NAYA also has a great blog which tells you more about what they're involved in. One program, "Making the Invisible Visible," was an inspiration for this Native Portland Tour!

Native Portland Series, 10: Tri-Met Public Art and Chief Joseph Elementary

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Tri-Met Public Art

Portland is blessed with a progressive public transit authority representing three different counties which make up the Portland area, thus:  Tri-Met.  Along some of the Tri-Met light-rail lines can be found some very interesting public art, including two installations along the Yellow line which extends into North Portland.

The first is a tiny strip of grass at the corner of N. Interstate Ave and N. Ainsworth Streets, easy to pass by if you're not looking for it.  Called the Ainsworth Greenspace, it features three totem heads atop 12-foot tall sculptures:  "She Who Watches," from a Columbia River petroglyph, by Lillian Pitt; "Salmon," by Native American artist Ken MacKintosh, and "Crow," by Yurok and Wiyak artist Rick Bartow.  They face inward, forming a little plaza with a spiral inset in the center, and the plaques feature poetry by Ockley Green Middle School students.

 

Rosa Parks Station 

Just a block or two further north on Interstate Ave at Rosa Parks Way is this interesting art at the Tri-Met station, a collaboration of artists we have seen elsewhere:  Lillian Pitt, Gail Tremblay, and Rick MacKintosh. Steel column wraps were inspired by petroglyphs in the Columbia River Gorge; the platform pavers feature a traditional Klikitat basket weave pattern, and note also the guardrail panels and sculptures at the ends of shelter canopies.  I wonder how many riders on this  busy yellow line have stopped to contemplate this art?

 

Chief Joseph Elementary School Mural

Just a few blocks northwest of the Tri-Met station is Chief Joseph Elementary School, at the end of N. Saratoga Ave., and its beautiful mural.  Painted by Yakima artist Toma Villa, the mural was installed in May, 2013, to honor the Nez Perce leader whose people were exiled from their land in the beautiful Wallowas of Eastern Oregon and Western Idaho.  The Native American Youth and Family Center helped dedicate the mural; the ceremony included Beth Britton, the great-granddaughter of Chief Joseph, and featured Native American drumming.  Near the mural is the Nez Perce Garden.  It's a pretty cool mural, don't you think?

P.S.  Read a little bit about efforts to restore sacred lands to the Nez Perce people here.

Native Portland Series, 9: Downtown

Find all Native Tour stops on the tour map.

Spectacular Murals of at the Governor Hotel

One of my early discoveries moving to Portland was the stunning murals at the Governor Hotel.  The hotel was restored in 1992 from a shell of a building into the historical landmark it is today, and murals were commissioned at that time.  They were painted by artist Melinda Morey, and span over 45 feet, depicting the beautiful Celilo Falls, east of Portland along the Columbia River, which were covered by the Dalles Dam in 1957.  Native peoples had lived along the falls for over 15,000 years, and 1000 Nations is still seeking to restore them.  There's also a Sacagawea mural there, and many photographs of Native Americans in the lounge area behind Jake's Grill, the restaurant there.  The hotel is very worth a visit; I wish I knew more about how the murals came to be, but they reference the Lewis and Clark expedition, so they appear to be told from the point of view of settlement history.

 

 






Quintana Galleries

Just north in the Pearl district is Quintana Galleries, since 1972 selling exclusively indigenous art, both contemporary and historic.  I found Lillian Pitt prints and glasswork there, and lots of Native Pacific Northwest coastal art and carvings, but there's also jewelry, beadwork and basketry from tribes all over, even Latin American artists.  This is all very fine art and beautifully curated.  Stop by and talk to the lovely people there and they will tell you more about the artists.

 Blanket Heaven

When I first attended a NAIITS symposium (North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies) I noticed that the protocol involved presenting beautiful blankets with exquisite Native American designs to the elders and others involved in the symposium. They were, of course, Pendleton blankets, and we are lucky to have Pendleton Woolen Mills located in Oregon, and several wonderful stores, including their 220 NW Broadway Home store:  Blanket central.

I spoke to the manager there about the history of the company's "Indian blankets."  The company was started in 1863 with the acquisition of an old woolen mill in Salem, Oregon, but later bought the defunct Pendleton Woolen Mill  in the middle of sheep country in Eastern country (this is Umatilla, Walla Walla and Cayuse country.) The earlier plant had been a wool scouring plant, an early stage of the production process, but soon was producing blankets, or robes, for Native women in the area; however that company had failed. When the new owners took over, they began making blankets again, and expanded their trade from the local peoples to include Southwest designs from Navajo, Hopi and Zuni peoples. The manager told me they still collaborate with Native artists on the design, but it's the southwest designs that sell the best.  They are working on a few new Northwest designs, including one by Northwest Coastal artist Preston Singletary, and have done some custom designs for tribes.  The Bishop family still runs these mills, and are very proud of their strong relationship with Native peoples.  Note that they are a sponsor of the Pendleton Round-Up,  a world-famous rodeo that it has involved Native Americans as both planners and cowboys since its inception in 1910.

Check out this store and the amazing blankets (the bike is pretty cool too.)   It is worth the trip!

   

 

Native Portland Series, 8: The Park Blocks

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NASCC at PSU

One of the shining stars of the Native Portland tour is the Native American Student & Community Center at Portland State University.  Located at the top of the Park blocks on the PSU campus, it's one of the few stops on the tour that is designed for and by Native people and supports their community. Opened in 2003, the center's site says:   "The mission of the NASCC is to provide a "cultural home" where Native American, Alaskan Native and Pacific Islander students connect to other students, faculty, staff and community members in an inclusive and supportive environment."  Classes in Native American studies are held here, as well as cultural events.

The center is tucked on a little triangle of land at the top of busy Broadway Street, and is like an oasis in the city.  The building's exterior design is distinctively Native, and two rooftop sculptures and the giant 50-foot pole are by Native artist Lillian Pitt.  Images from Pacific Northwest Native culture are frosted on to the windows, and the interior is also full of Native art.  A beautiful bronze sculpture of Chief Joseph, by Native American bronze artist Doug Hyde, is in the courtyard.

    

   

 

Photo: PSU

Oregon Historical Society

A few blocks north on the Park blocks are important museums to know about, both resources for the history and culture of Native people from Oregon.  The first, the Oregon Historical Center, has exhibits and a library, especially rich with documents and photographs of Native American life.  The Society also has online exhibits; currently there is one on regional Native American basketry. Also be sure to check out its historical documents, either at the library or online.  If you simply type "Native American" in the search engine, you fill find fascinating correspondence and legal documents, as well as photos, that tell of the life of the first peoples and their contact with European settlers.

Portland Art Museum

Portland's main art museum is within steps of the Historical museum and has an extensive collection of Native American art, having worked closely with the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde and other agencies.  If it's not currently on public exhibit, you can find its collection of some 1,800 works of Native art online.  Note you can click the "Native American" tab, or you can narrow your search by category, such as "Plains," or "Northwest Coast."

Photo: Tourism Media