ECCLESIOLOGICAL ETCHING
November 24, 2021
It is Thanksgiving Eve. That doesn’t carry with it the same excitement as Christmas Eve, at least for most folks. In recent years, I have tried to take time during this Thanksgiving week to educate myself about the Indigenous people who lived where I now live and work. I remain only a novice, but it is a fascinating and painfully troubling exploration. And like so many other places in the world, Christianity’s destructive involvement is absolutely crushing to my spirit. This year, I have been trying to learn more about the Karankawa peoples. They were not a single tribe, but many groups who shared a common language and moved from barrier islands off the coast to areas further north and west. The name Karankawa means “dog lover” or “dog raiser” as these people domesticated wolves or foxes (opinions vary). The Karankawa peoples were often accused of cannibalism of their enemies, yet like so often happened when conquering native peoples, stories were concocted or exaggerated to provide a rationale for why it was necessary to eliminate them. When Christian missionaries felt as if they had failed their work of “conversion,” they would participate in the creation of these tales to provide justification for their failures. It was a way of suggesting that certain people were simply too barbaric and beyond redemption. Of course, many Karankawa people died from diseases brought by missionaries. One of the fascinating things I learned was the religious traditions Karankawa’s people had around death. Families of the deceased were to be reverent and quiet three times each day for a full year, and for the first three months, the family members were not allowed to gather or prepare their own food. I’m not trying to be funny, but there is something universal about bringing over a casserole at the time of a death. Now this Etching might seem a bit different from other Etchings, but I am reminded of Prophets who spoke of the importance of remembering former things. History has a marvelous ability to challenge, even correct me in the present.
May I always have a heart and mind open to what can be learned, O Lord. Even when the past is not as lovely as some history books wish to make it, I desire to live in the full and complex truth that is life; in an understanding of my religion that has fallen short too often; in an appreciation of how easy it is to succumb to the same mistakes if I do not know what has come before me. Be my patient encourager and guide. Amen.
