What have you been doing on National Truth and Reconciliation Day?

I've been wearing an orange shirt and reading, reading, reading. And listening to radio programming featuring the work of Indigenous musicians and authors. And spreading the word on social media about Indigenous Canada, an excellent course I took through the U of A back in the spring, which has been helpful in my understanding of many issues facing my inner city faith community's members. And arranging Sunday lunches for the homeless ones who will visit us there in the month of October. 

If you feel like reading, reading, reading, here's the link from Raven Trust, an organization that I support because they are land and people defenders. Their website absorbed a good portion of my day.

https://raventrust.com/reconciliation-is-a-verb/ 

I particularly liked what Ryan McMahon has to say, short and straight to the point:

Calling yourself a treaty person, doing a land acknowledgment: that is not reconciliation. Pick one action you know you can stick with in your life, and find people to bring along on your journey. If you have a strong heart, come to the front of the line. If you don't, get in line, and we'll get there. Show up. Be on the ground. Give your energy. Every single choice you make is reconciliation: there is no handbook.

I also appreciated this Maclean's Magazine article about Finding David Lightning, sent to me by my eldest. In my days as a teacher in Ponoka, I taught a youngster who was probably related to the Ermineskin Lightning family, possibly a great grand-nephew to David Lightning.

What are you doing on National Truth and Reconciliation Day? What have you learned that you didn't know before? What are you planning to learn and do in the weeks and months to come? I'd really love to know... please leave me a comment if you like...

Sunday Reflection: How to do a "deed of power"

Today's reflection is brought to you by

Mark 9:38-41.

O God,

you invite us all

to do your will,

to do the right thing.

And your son,

our brother,

Jesus, 

talked about

the one who follows him 

as someone who does a

"deed of power."

It's easy for us to think

that we can't do 

those Jesus kinds of things --

healings, 

exorcisms,

or calming storms.

But is Jesus telling us today

that we are selling ourselves short?

If giving a cup of water

to a thirsty soul

is notable 

in Jesus' books,

could getting vaccinated

to protect the vulnerable among us

also be a deed of power?

Could holding a door for a stranger?

We just don't think that way. 

We look to the miraculous 

as deeds of power.

But could seeing

and acknowledging

the pain and struggle 

of those among us who are hurting

help lead to healing?

Could praying for the sick

make a difference?

Could it be that

listening to angry souls 

express their rage and hurt

might be a deed of power?

Could acting upon 

what caused that hurt and rage

be necessary to exorcise

the injustices 

that have wounded 

so many among us?

Could just being present

to those who feel isolated in their anguish

help to calm their storms?

O God,

show us

where we can be your instruments

and do your deeds of power,

even when 

they are less miraculous than we think;

even if 

they seem beyond our abilities.

+Amen

* * * * * * *

Please, if you have a spare prayer, say one for the healing of my youngest, Jay, who will undergo surgery tomorrow. Thanks.

Sunday Reflection: The birthday girl's prayer

Today is the birthday of Michelle, our Oskapewis/helper at The Community of Emmanuel/Inner City Pastoral Ministry. She led our Standing Stones service this morning, and the prayer and scripture she chose really moved me. Even more wonderful, she planned, collected volunteers, and held a barbeque for the folks who hang around the Bissell Centre -- a great way to celebrate a birthday! 

I can't begin to tell you about her inspiring words this morning, but I will share that she encouraged us all to name four truths that we rely on in our lives. I think that the ones I rely on most are encapsulated in the prayer and the psalm below. Beautiful words for a beautiful Sunday:

Great Spirit, God, Creator of all,
I welcome you into my heart, mind, body and soul.

There is always room for you here.

Grant me the wisdom to heed my inner voice

And the strength to stay grounded while I sing my sacred song.

Guide me down my chosen path.

Give me the courage to pursue my options.

I am thankful for the lessons and grateful for my struggles;

I have not forgotten what has brought me to where I am today.

Open my heart to the healting wholeness of nature;

We are all related, and through this I will find peace.

Great Spirit, God, Creator of all,

Cleanse my spirit and wash my heart.

There is always room for you here.  AMEN, hiy hiy.

From Psalm 139:

O God,

you search me and know me,

you know when I sit down

and when I rise up;

you discern my thoughts from far away.

You search out my path 

and my lying down

and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,

God, you know it completely.

You hem me in, 

behind and before,

and lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;

it is so high that I cannot attain it.

Where can I go from your spirit?

Or where can I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven,

you are there;

If I make my bed in hell,

you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

and your right hand shall hold me fast.

If I say, 

"Surely the darkness shall cover me,

and the light around me become night,"

even the darkness is not dark to you;

the night is as bright as the day,

for darkness is as light to you.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you, 

for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works;

that I know very well.

My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes beheld my unformed substance,

In your books were written all the days that were formed for me,

when none of them as yet existed.

How weighty to me are your thoughts,

O God!

I try to count them --

they are more than the sand;

I come to the end --

I am still with you.

My you feel God's presence in the week ahead, that God can be relied upon, no matter the results of the tomorrow's election!

And I pray Creator's blessings on our birthday girl, too.

Saving the Eastern Slopes

This past weekend, my love and I were invited to a gorgeous part of our province known as the Eastern Slopes of the Rocky Mountains, not far from Nordegg. You may have heard a fair bit about the Eastern Slopes lately if you live in the west, as a lot of musicians, ranchers, environmentalists, First Nations leaders, and ordinary joes and jills like me have been raising a bit of a ruckus about protecting them.

The Alberta Government quietly changed its coal policy back in June of 2020, and has granted too many coal leases to foreign companies, who will come and strip mine the coal beneath our mountains, leaving a huge mess and allowing all sorts of other chemicals (like selenium) to be released and washed down the slopes into our creeks and rivers. Even one lease is too many.

Before I rant any further, let me show you the beauty that Lee and I enjoyed for the last two days:

A view of ranchland...

Those amazing, wispy cirrus clouds...

The North Saskatchewan River on its way to our hometown...

A gorgeous picnic site overlooking so much beauty...

This last picture is of the North Saskatchewan River as it flows toward Rocky Mountain house. It's the river that supplies water to many cities and towns on its way to join the South Saskatchewan River and flow on towards Hudson Bay. Unfortunately, one of the coal leases people like me are opposing is situated just on the other side of the slope going up from the river on the left side of this picture. 

So this morning I wrote a letter to the people in charge of Alberta's Coal Policy, to let them know that they need to change their policy, period. If any of my readers are interested in adapting what's below to send their own letter to the Alberta Government's coal policy strategists, I'd highly encourage it, as they are accepting emails and submissions until September 19th, and the more of us who speak up, the more likely they are to listen. 

Even if you're not from Alberta, feel free to send an email to  energy.coalpolicy@gov.ab.ca. Especially if you live downstream! The fact of the matter is that coal projects in Alberta aren't really necessary, but they'll affect people all over the globe if we don't get a handle on coal-burning caused climate change. Every person on our planet is part of the web of life affected by short-sighted decisions that allow for coal leases.

Here's my version of the letter, but it's always good to personalize your own! 

To whom it may concern,

My husband and I just spent the weekend in the Nordegg area, and feel more than ever that the Eastern Slopes of the Rockies need protection from coal projects. We want you to revoke coal leases to protect the water that comes from those slopes through the North Saskatchewan River to so many Alberta communities, ours included. 

The use of coal for industrial processes is already severely reduced as scientists, metallurgical engineers and technologists find less fossil-fuel intensive ways to power industry worldwide. Destroying the beauty of our province now when coal is almost a thing of the past is sheer stupidity.

The AER made the right decision regarding the Grassy Mountain Mining project. I ask you to please put a halt on ALL other coal projects immediately, to protect our water and save our planet from further environmental devastation and climate change. Albertans like me are depending on you to do the right thing!

Why not make yourself a cup of your favourite beverage and send the coal policy folks a note of your own?

Sunday Reflection: A special prayer in the month of creation

I know it's only Saturday, but instead of a Sunday reflection, I'll just post an advance invitation to join our ecumenical online Prayer for Creation that is happening at 7 pm MST on Sunday September 12th (tomorrow). We'll pray with scripture, silence, and the songs of Taize. 

I was really hoping we'd be able to pray together in person, but with covid numbers as high as they are in Alberta, it's probably better to refrain from gathering to protect those who are unvaccinated, not to mention those who are. I also like including those who aren't in the Edmonton area via livestream.

I'm grateful that Pope Francis wrote his letter to the whole world, Laudato Si: On Care for Our Common Home, and I'm still wishing that it would receive more attention and action, especially in light of the many climate disasters our world faces -- wildfires, hurricanes, floods and so many other coming concerns that we can't foresee. Our air is clear of smoke in Edmonton right now, but that doesn't mean we can't pray for creation and act to reduce our impact on its climate. I've written at length on the Pope's Encyclical in these moodlings, and am doing all that I can with regard to living simply, though there's always room for improvement!

But for now, let's pray together. All are welcome, and if you miss the prayer, it will remain online for the rest of the month of Creation, which ends on the Feast day of St. Francis, October 4th... It's a very meditative and peaceful prayer that could be good to wind down with after a busy day...

https://www.facebook.com/events/1247853455642809

Gathering sage -- and reciprocity

Sage is an important medicine at Inner City Pastoral Ministry because it is used to begin every Sunday morning service for the Community of Emmanuel who gather to pray. Michelle, our Oskapew/helper, lights a bit of sage in her abalone shell and invites us all to come forward to smudge, or "pray with smoke." 

When we smudge, we ask Creator to be with us and bless our physical selves and our perception of and interaction with creation through our senses, bodies, and spirits. It's a deeply meaningful ceremony for all of us who are present, and it's rare to begin a Sunday at ICPM without it.

Which means that gathering a fair bit of sage for our community is necessary before winter comes. So on Tuesday, seven of us travelled to Sacred Ground on Alexander First Nations' land to pick medicine. We travelled up a rutty track into a field where we could see the remnants of sundances and sweat lodges that hadn't yet returned to the land. Michelle donned her ribbon skirt and lit the smudge, and we all prayed. Then we each took a handful of tobacco to offer to the earth in exchange for the sage we gathered. 

Can you spot my companion?

We spent about 40 minutes in silence as we moved through the long grasses, scattering tobacco and meditatively picking sage above the ground, trying to leave the roots undisturbed so the plants could grow again next year. My only companions were the grasshoppers who bounced around my feet as I moved. 

At one point, I laid down and thanked Creator for the experience of being surrounded with quiet, with only the sound of a light breeze through the grasses and the smell of sage in the small bundle I'd gathered. I imagined the area full of people at a Sundance, praying through days and nights, and the sun broke through for a minute or two. 

Holy Ground indeed, that gives medicine and a deep sense of calm as it accepts our gift of tobacco.

When we regathered, I realized that my bundle of sage was pretty small (maybe I'd been too meditative?), and Michelle realized that we'll need to do a lot more picking to have enough for each Sunday until next year's sage gatherings. As Tuesday morning didn't work for everyone who wanted to attend, more trips to gather are in the works, and next time, I hope to gather a larger bundle.

The sage-gathering reminded me of Indigenous peoples' understanding of the value of reciprocity, of giving even as we receive gifts from the land, and has given me pause as I walk into my own garden. North Americans like me don't often think about how we treat our garden plots. Too many of us think about yield over how we can return benefit to the land and its creatures, using herbicides and pesticides to "keep things under control," forgetting the life forms that are destroyed by such chemicals.

True, I've stopped using those kinds of "controls," and conduct a little garden blessing every spring, burning the previous year's Palm Sunday palms (cedar branches since covid) and carrying the remnants to all corners of my garden. I ask for blessings on its growth for the season, and give thanks for the nourishment it provides us through an abundance of fresh vegetables and preserves. I also give the soil a healthy amount of compost every autumn. 

But on Tuesday, I realized that perhaps I need to change the focus of my garden blessings, and spread them around throughout the year. Perhaps it's time to go out and get some tobacco, too, to offer a little in thanksgiving and reciprocity each time I harvest, to return a little something to creation and Creator for the many benefits that come to me out of the soil's generosity. And there are probably other ways that I can give back to my Indigenous sisters, brothers and others -- in reciprocity for the fact that I have lived and grown on lands that were wrongfully taken from them over centuries. Being present with them at ICPM is just a small beginning.

Perhaps small beginnings in reciprocity could help us all to notice more often how it can overflow into the rest of our interactions with the world as well. A smile for a smile. A compliment for a compliment. A full birdbath or bird feeder for the delight of birdsong. The beauty of a spider's web in return for the willingness to live and let live. And a sharing of my produce, somehow, with my inner city community, though I'm not sure how to do that in these covid times. There must be a way. Maybe next year I can grow more cucumbers and cherry tomatoes for them!

One thing is certain, it's possible to incorporate more awareness of where we can practice reciprocity in our lives. As one of my favourite sayings goes, "start small, but make a start."

It takes a long time to grow an old friend

Cathy -- in navy over gold

The subject line above has been in my head for the past few days, ever since a special package arrived in the mail from my best friend. It contained that subject line, written in the "50 years" anniversary card pictured below (marriage crossed out and overwritten with friendship), with a hand-written letter, and 38 typed pages of letters from our past, a labour of love on Cathy's part.

Cathy and I met in Plenty, Saskatchewan, on the first day of Grade One, September 1, 1971, which means that we have known each other for 50 years as of today. The package of typed letters she sent is a perfect tribute to our friendship as it has developed over the years, containing hints of how we developed into the soulmates we are now. I am so proud of who she is! And who I am. We have grown into pretty amazing women, and have supported each other through many challenges along the way.

It's amazing to me that our friendship exists at all. We barely knew each other for three years before I left small town Saskatchewan for Edmonton in October of 1974, and if it wasn't for Cathy's grandparents living in Old Glenora here in the city and her family's regular visits to them, our friendship would have ended before it really began. It's impossible to express what our connection has meant to me, except to say that I am deeply grateful for Cathy's presence throughout my life. 

Me - in gold over navy

Our heartstrings are tied together in so many places and events in our lives, beginning with the Saskatchewan prairie that was etched into our souls in our formative years, and more recently, in exploring the beauty of Vancouver Island where she now lives. Our trip to Taize together five years ago is one of the highlights of my life, and I can't walk Shadow-dog past the Edmonton Folk Fest hill without remembering a magical day with her there.

We grew up living parallel lives in many ways (seen even here in our reversed Grade One school picture clothes!), sensitive young girls who felt as if we were on the fringes of our classmates' social groups, blossoming in our own ways in our university years, involved with Camps for people with disabilities, and growing into our spiritual selves. 

We saw our first Edmonton Oilers game together, cheered each other on through university and the establishment of nursing and teaching careers, and consoled each other through broken romances and challenging work situations. For all but 5 years when we lived in the same place (and enjoyed an Opera subscription together), letters and emails have been the mainstay in our friendship, though Cathy has also made long trips to Edmonton for weddings, baptisms, first communions, confirmations, graduations and a surprise housewarming!

With 1,296 km between our two homes, we don't get together often, but even covid has carried a gift for us in its hands. Cathy leads an online early Saturday morning 5Rhythms dance/meditation group, and Zoom has allowed me to enjoy dancing with her and a dozen of her friends most weekends, feeling the connection between body and spirit -- and the friendship connection.

When we celebrated 40 years as friends, we daydreamed about going to Milan's Amphitheatre to see Giuseppe Verdi's Aida (with real live elephants!) for our 50th anniversary, but here we are in this covid and climate change conflicted world, not wanting to make either situation worse by a frivolous celebration. So we will mark our 50 years of friendship quietly with those 1,296 km between us... perhaps with a glass of wine together via Zoom. 

Because really, every time we connect, read each others' letters, or chat on the phone, it feels like a celebration to me!

Happy 50th Anniversary of Friendship, Cathy! And yes, a letter is in the mail!