The gathering of the tribe

Hi, all!

I just got back from Diocesan Convention, held at the Lynnwood Convention Center in North Seattle. It was a well-run convention, and the business of the Diocese was duly attended to.

The part I like best about Convention is seeing friends from other parishes. Having been involved in the clergy association and various diocesan events, I've made friends throughout the diocese and I always enjoy seeing them.

I think of the diocesan convention as "the gathering of the tribe." In earlier days, Native American tribes were composed of family groups that might separate to travel widely during the year looking for good hunting and fishing. Then in the fall they'd come together for a time of sharing, eating, dancing, and contests of skill. Young people would look for mates, and old friends would remember times past.

That's what it feels like at diocesan convention. Our diocese is a tribe composed of many parishes and groups, and we usually do our ministries separately. But once a year we come together to re-connect and to share with each other.

I'm grateful for our delegates, Bill Demmon and Maggie Scott, and our alternates, Ken Stephens and Tovi Andrews, who took the time to attend convention, and I hope they got a feel for the depth and breadth of our diocese and enjoyed it as much as I did.

Bill  

Hi, all!

Columbus Day landed on Wednesday this week, and Bishop Greg asked us to reflect on the "Doctrine of Discovery". The doctrine of discovery was the policy of European nations to claim full ownership of the lands occupied by their settlers in the Americas. It was used to justify the removal and genocide of the people who already lived there, namely Native Americans.

I think most of us feel some regret about the treatment of Native Americans in our country. We recognize the tragic losses they suffered when European settlers came.

I have some family heritage on my mother's side in this matter. My great-grandfather, Thomas Lawrence Riggs, was a missionary to the Lakota (Sioux) people in South Dakota. In 1872 he established a mission near Pierre, and eventually founded a number of mission churches along the Missouri River, as well as an Indian boarding school.

One of the great tragedies of mission work among Native Americans was the requirement that their children move to church boarding schools, where they were forced to speak in English and they lost their culture and traditions. The church brought them the Gospel of Christ, but also forced western culture on them. The loss of native pride and identity brought a terrible social price: alcoholism, suicide, and disintegration.

My great-grandfather spoke the Lakota language with great fluency, and the family lore is that he was accepted by them as one of their own. The children in the Indian school were taught in the Lakota tongue until government policies forced the school to teach them in English. My great-grandfather devoted his whole life to the Lakota people, and he I'm sure he didn't intend to cause any harm. And yet, there were unintended consequences to the missionary work he did.

So I have some ambivalence about my family heritage in South Dakota. On the one hand, I'm proud of the work my great-grandfather did and the sacrifices he made. On the other hand, I wonder about those unintended consequences.

I'm planning to go to South Dakota in November to attend a workshop by the Episcopal Diocese of South Dakota on Lakota culture and history. I want to learn more about the Lakota people and the role of the church in their lives. Maybe I'll get a clearer picture of the role of missionaries in South Dakota and perhaps find a way I can contribute to the church work there. I wonder if there might be some way we as a parish might partner with a Native American congregation in South Dakota. Who knows?

Bill  

May the circle be unbroken

Hi, all!

I spent some time last week searching for the ghosts of my past. My grandmother's family on my father's side were plantation owners in Louisiana in the 1800's, and since I was in the area for my CREDO conference, I took an extra day to rent a car and drive to the site of the old plantation.

I've always been fascinated by this part of my family history. The Bowman family came down the Natchez Trace from South Carolina around 1810 and established Alphenia Plantation near Clayton, Louisiana. I've read about the plantation and always wanted to visit the site.

My brother, the family genealogist, sent me the Google Earth coordinates so I had no problem finding the site. No buildings exist, but there's a huge old oak tree and three ancient Indian mounds that mark the site of the old plantation. 

It was late afternoon when I parked the rental car in a recently harvested cotton field and climbed the mound nearest the Tensas River. Among the trees and brush I found the gravestones of Sarah Caroline Bowman and her four children, who died within a month of each other in a fever epidemic in 1852. I traced their names on a large marble base and a tall obelisk that had toppled to the ground. 

Standing there where my ancestors lived and died was a powerful experience for me. I said a prayer for those who had gone before me, remembering them to God. 

But I wasn't finished. I pushed through the brush and climbed the mound furthest from the river. This was the mound where the slaves of the plantation were buried. It's strange how the ghosts of the past haunt us today. Slavery was an evil institution, and its effects still linger today. 

As I stood there, I wondered what it was like for the slaves 160 years ago. I said a prayer for those who were buried there and for their descendants, and I asked God for forgiveness.

I don't know what difference it made that I visited the site of the old plantation. But it was something I needed to do for myself, and I realized as I walked back to the rental car that this place is sacred ground for me. In some sense, I feel I completed the circle. I'm glad I went.  

Bill   

Mississippi Cuisine

September 30, 2011
Hi, all!

I'm spending this week at an Episcopal conference center near Jackson, Mississippi. It's located in rural Mississippi surrounded by oak and pine forests and lush meadows. And yes, it's hot and muggy in the daytime -- although I have to admit the evenings have been quite pleasant.

The cooks at the conference center have served up some real southern cookin'. We've had grits, red beans and rice, turnip greens, gumbo, and fried catfish. Delicious, every bit.

The conference has focused on clergy well-being and renewal. The staff is a team of clergy and lay professionals including a financial planner, a spiritual director, a psychologist, and a career planner. The twenty five clergy attending the conference are from all over the country and all kinds of parishes. It's a pleasure to be with them.

We've had presentations on subjects like relationships, discernment, visioning, forgiveness, clergy identity and vocation. It's a little like going back to seminary for a week, but more practical. We've met in small groups where we've been able to share more personally, and we've been able to meet one on one with the staff members for consultations.

We've gathered daily for worship that has included morning prayer, Eucharist and a healing service. I was somewhat surprised to find that about half the participants gather before breakfast for a half hour of centering prayer and silence. Contemplative spirituality is now practiced by clergy throughout the church.

Best of all for me have been casual conversations and small group sessions where we've shared our experience as people of faith with a common calling. I've found these clergy to be healthy and lively people with wonderful gifts for ministry. It's a privilege to be here.

We've done a lot of personal reflection, and we're encouraged to make a CREDO plan that sets forth our plans for our personal and professional growth. I think I'll be a better priest for this experience, and I'm grateful for this time for reflection.

I'm looking forward to coming back and being with you in our life together, a life I love and value deeply.

Bill