Ancestors

Camp Ihduhopi, Loretto, MN

It rained all weekend. We gathered in the lodge for our annual retreat. A large fire crackled in the massive fireplace. We had been instructed to bring photographs or other objects from at least one of our ancestors, people who had gone before us and helped shape who we are. 

Our leader met us at the door. Lakota by birth, for years she helped deepen our understanding of our place in the universe. Now she asked us to put our chairs in a circle and place the photographs and memorabilia of our ancestors behind us around the circle. We never formally introduced these ancestors, yet they became a real presence through the weekend. We came to realize that we live always in their presence; they are with us even now.

While we were conducting the business of the church, a large spider lowered herself from the ceiling. “Ah!” Wilma said. “One of our relatives has come to visit.” With that, she began to help us understand how we exist in a living biosphere of interdependent life forms. Two-legged, four-legged, eight-legged, no-legged, thousand-legged - each has a niche, a sacred place. Trees too, and birds and fish. share this web of life. The massive outcroppings of rock rising from deep within the earth have stories to tell. We are relatives. We must live and make decisions that are respectful of all these relatives.

This was a planning retreat. She wanted us to see that every decision affects our children and their children, but also the progeny of all our planetary relatives. She encouraged us to consult our ancestors when we were uncertain.

She talked of spirit guides and the Great Spirit - whom she called Grandfather and, sometimes, Wakan Tanka. She spoke of the Medicine Wheel and gifts that proceed from its sacred directions.

That was many years ago. But as we move through Covid, police violence, and our polarized political landscape, as we witness now and anticipate more devastation wrought by climate change, I often return to that rainy weekend and roaring fire, that descending spider and sacred circle. We were friends and ancestors sitting together. We were not alone. We never are. I want to live in such a way that I honor our ancestors, care for our relatives, and prepare a brighter future for our children.

© Gilbert Friend-Jones

From: Faith in a Minor Key