Grassy Sermon
January 29, 2012 | Stephanie Epp

What would it be like to be in exile? What does exile look like? And what does it mean to come home again? Exile would not be the same for everyone, nor would homecoming. Perhaps it would depend on the circumstances that forced one into exile. Perhaps it would depend on where one ended up in exile. One thing is for certain, to be in exile is traumatic. Forced relocation, loss of language, loss of culture, and beliefs. It’s like having the ground swept out from under your feet. How does one regain footing in those circumstances? How does one retain even the smallest grasp on hope of returning home? And if going home becomes possible and home is not how you left it, how does it become home again?

Our scripture passage this morning is from the third section of Isaiah. When we reach this part of the book, the Hebrew people have already been to exile and back. They were sent into exile as a result of unfaithfulness to God through idolatry and injustice. During the years of exile, they were given messages of hope and of returning home to Jerusalem. In part the message was encouragement and hope for those longing for home - God will gather all who were exiled, they will return, and Jerusalem will be rebuilt. Going home means going back to a place where the Torah tradition would not be resisted but practiced as true. The message during exile was also to remind the people of who they were, where they came from, and where they belonged. In the end, some of the exiles chose to stay in Babylon as they had assimilated into that culture. For those who returned home their first priority became rebuilding the Temple, which was the centre of their faith. Their concern was to first reestablish the centre of their lives. In our verses, the prophet is reminding the remnant which had returned to Jerusalem, of God’s calling to them as a community. Being part of God’s community means practicing justice - looking after those less fortunate and undoing oppression - basically to work for Shalom which is a marker of God’s kingdom. These words informed them of God’s intentions and desire for relationships between people, and gives a picture of what God’s justice looks like. God’s justice is concerned with the well-being of all people, and therefore God’s people are to strive to make that a reality. 

This fall I spent time with people who are in exile in their own land. I went on a CPT delegation to Grassy Narrows First Nation in north-western Ontario. Varying factors have contributed to the exile that Grassy Narrows and all of our indigenous neighbours continue to experience. Ultimately it all comes down to colonialism. European settlers brought disease, violence, and the destruction of traditional ways of living and being. In short, cultural genocide. Some of this was accomplished through the establishment of residential schools. Original language, spirituality, and culture was forbidden at the schools. And if that wasn’t traumatic enough, we now know many of the children endured abuse. All of this trauma not only affected the children at the schools but also their families and home communities. Children being away from home changed life for everyone - work at home on the traplines and other tasks was cut back or ended altogether. Those children who attended the schools then grew up, having lost their language, spirituality, and culture, and therefore were unable to pass it onto their own children. And so on and so forth. Grassy Narrows has had the added challenges of relocation from their original reserve land due to flooding from a hydro-electric dam. As well, an upriver pulp and paper mill dumped mercury into the English-Wabigoon river system. Through consumption of fish, people contracted mercury poisoning, and the effects of that poisoning are still evident and ongoing in the community today. And to add to all that, large corporations have been clear-cutting the Whiskey Jack Forest. This has meant loss of habitat for gathering berries and medicine, and has also affected the traplines and hunting. Not to mention the severe environmental damage such practices inflicts on the land. And I have not even touched on the social issues and the other aspects of racism that are experienced. It is a long litany of loss. How does one return home when technically one never entirely left it? When parts of oneself were also taken?

It is hard to believe that such injustices are allowed to exist and that they are perpetuated in our own country, but they are. There are some fairly common attitudes in our society towards colonialism and residential schools. They include: “It all happened in the past, why can’t they just get over it?” Or, “It wasn’t me, so why should this affect me now when I had nothing to do with it?” It’s true, none of us were here when Canada was originally colonized. It is also true that the vast majority of the population had nothing to do with residential schools. But we live here, we are part of this country, and our ancestors came from somewhere else. We are settlers. We benefit from the colonialist systems which founded and still run this country. As settlers our experiences of this city and this country are very different from First Nations experience. We only know our own experience and what it is like for us, and so it is easy to assume and expect it is the same for everyone else. But white skin begets a certain amount of privilege. To be able to recognize and acknowledge that about ourselves is incredibly important. If we can recognize our privilege, we cannot deny the imbalances that exist. If we cannot deny the imbalances, we feel compelled to do something about it. When we work for justice and the well-being, the Shalom, of all people, as Isaiah puts it, we will be “like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail”. 

For me this speaks to my experiences with CPT to this point. My motivation for going to Palestine and to Grassy Narrows was to learn and as an act of solidarity. I wanted to learn about the lives and struggles of other people. I wanted to learn about my direct or indirect connection with those struggles. This required a lot of listening. I had to be open in order to learn. I had to be willing to acknowledge my own shortcomings, to see where I need to change. I do not want to contribute to anyone’s suffering or be blind to it. This does not mean I now have all the answers. Actually, not being the one with the answers, not taking the lead or doing all the talking is one of the things I’ve learned in both Palestine and Grassy Narrows. It is time for the power balance to be restored and to give indigenous people a proper place at the table. Settlers have been controlling the conversation and everything else, for long enough. 

So then what is our role and responsibility? What is our role even if our ancestors were not among those who originally settled Canada? Being willing to be open and to learn is a huge part of this. And this includes learning about ourselves. Change is not possible without it. We all have our hang ups, we all have our prejudices. We are human. But this does not mean we cannot change. As disciples of Jesus we are called to change. We were created to be in relationship with God and each other, and to be co-creators of Shalom. Shalom is created by loving our neighbours, loosening the bonds of injustice, undoing oppression, sharing bread with the hungry, and everything else Jesus ever said. Shalom demands transformation from us and any situation that is not how it ought to be. This is all part of being on the journey of discipleship. 

Some of you may know that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission is coming to Saskatoon June 21-24. In a very brief nutshell, the purpose of the TRC is to provide a culturally appropriate space for residential school survivors to share their experiences. This is intended to be part of the healing process, and hopefully a step towards reconciliation. Currently there are hearings taking place around the province as a lead up to the gathering in June. This is a significant event, and everyone is invited to take part. I would encourage all of us to go and be witnesses, to hear what is being shared, and to learn. The TRC has the potential to be transformational for survivors and those present as witnesses. If we can learn from each other, we can better understand one another. And if we better understand one another, attitudes and relationships have potential to change. The TRC will not solve all the issues around residential schools, nor they do not expect it to solve everything at once. True reconciliation is a process and it will not happen overnight. But it is a step in the right direction. Mennonite and Anabaptist history is partly one of a persecuted people. When Pope John Paul II apologized in 2000 for the persecution the Catholic church had instigated against Mennonites 500 years ago, did that not provide some satisfaction in having that wrong acknowledged? And more recently with the Lutheran apology to Mennonites in July 2010? Significant ecumenical conversations took place over time to bring about that kind of reconciliation. Reconciliation takes time. If we are accepting apologies for events from 500 years ago, it is safe to say it is not too late to start apologizing and making amends for things that have happened in Canada since it’s inception, almost 145 years ago. The TRC is part of that process. 

So how does one return home when one technically never left it? Part of it is in reclaiming what was lost. While at Grassy I saw glimpses of their return from exile. We attended a grade 11 cultural studies class at the school. Students in this class are learning traditional ways. They have gone out on the water and learned how to harvest wild rice. One major project previously undertaken in the class was to build a canoe - and for the students to pass it had to float. The Trappers Centre on the reserve offers classes which have included making tikinaugans (or cradle boards) for carrying infants. Efforts are being made to resurrect traditional ways. And of course there is the blockade. The picture on the front of your bulletins this morning is of the Slant Lake blockade site. Since 2002 Grassy Narrows has been asserting its sovereignty through a blockade of the main road logging companies have used to access and clear-cut the Whiskey Jack Forest, which is on Treaty 3 Territory. After years of attempted dialogue with the government over the issue and not getting anywhere, the community took the province to court. The Ontario Superior Court ruled in favour of Grassy Narrows last August. Grassy Narrows had challenged the province’s right to permit logging on it’s traditional lands because it interferes with their treaty rights. The judge ruled the province does not have the power to interfere with treaty rights because they are a federal issue. The Ontario provincial government has appealed the decision, so the struggle to control natural resources on their treaty land isn’t over. But the strength and vision it takes to reclaim what was lost, and to go head to head with the government as well as large international corporations, is the kind of strength and vision that leads a community out of exile. In all of these things, I found hope and inspiration at Grassy Narrows. Our role in this is one of being partners and allies. We can support them in their efforts of undoing the bonds of injustice that have been holding them captive. 

“ Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in” (vs. 12). The way things are is not the way things have to be. God calls us to Shalom, and God intends it for all of us. We cannot change the past, but we can acknowledge it’s brokenness, learn from it, and work to create what the past should have been in our present and for the future. This will require a lot of hard work. But it is worth it. Working for Shalom and bringing it to fruition is a homecoming for all of us.