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Tyndale University presents a series of recorded chapel services from Tyndale's very own faculty and guest speakers.
GEORGE SWEETMAN: Good morning everyone. Welcome to Community Chapel today. We're glad that you're here. For those of you online, we're glad that you're tuning in also. Today happens to be significant in two ways, one we'll talk about it in a bit, but the other is, today is the first day in the Life Admissions event for the 25/26 academic year, and we have nine prospective students here, nine prospective UG students and their families. And we're glad that they're here, and I want you to be sure that as you see them around the hallways over the course of the day, that you'll offer them a big Tyndale welcome. Let's welcome them right now, if we could.
God always welcomes us to gather in His name. By His Spirit, in the name of Jesus Christ, we have this invitation week after week to come into this place, brothers and sisters alike, to worship God. A couple of weeks ago, some of you will have heard me speak about these confusing times and the idea of lament, today too, in light of natural national considerations we are, this continues to be true, but as people of the light, we are assured that God gives us words when we don't know what to say. For instance, Psalm 13 is an example, so hear these words, "How long Lord will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me, look on me and answer, Lord my God, give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death and my enemy will say, I have overcome him, and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in Your unfailing love, my heart rejoices in Your salvation, I will sing the Lord's praise, for He has been good to me."
We can learn and lean into lament, because He is also the one who offers hope. And our trust in God is strong, even in the midst of lament, of sadness, of crisis, of sorrow, in moments of wondering or wandering, we are drawn to the promise of the King who is deeply good and loving. Even when we aren't, He is always faithful.
Let's pray together. Lord, as You have taught us, we bow before You in all humility, gentleness and patience, supporting each other with love and trying to keep the unity of the Spirit by the bonds of peace that we may become one body and one Spirit according to our common calling and vocation, with one voice, repenting of our divisions, we commit ourselves to working together for reconciliation, peace and justice, and we stand together in imploring You, God, help us to live as Your disciples, overcoming selfishness and arrogance, hatred and violence, give us the strength to forgive, inspiring our witness in the world, that we may foster a culture of dialog and be bearers of the hope which You, which Your gospel has implanted in us. Make us instruments of Your peace, so that our homes and our communities, our university, our churches and our nations might respond more fully with the peace that You have long desired to bestow upon all of us. We pray these things in the name of the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, Amen. Come let us worship together.
As many of you will know, today marks National Day for Truth and Reconciliation in Canada. It was a day established by the Government of Canada in 2021 for all Canadians to reflect on our collective relationship and movement toward healing with First Nations and Indigenous peoples. Today also recognizes Orange Shirt Day, a day that honors the children who never returned home from and survivors of residential schools, as well as their families and communities. This particular shirt that I'm wearing was actually designed by a Tyndale alumna, Naomi Peters. We're so grateful today to have Shari Russell, Dr. Shari Russell, with us. Shari is a friend of Tyndale and is the director of NAIITS An Indigenous Learning Community. Please note too that right after chapel at 12:15, in room B321, we have a special event that you're all welcome to, although space is limited, with Mike Hogeterp, who is a lead facilitator for a NAIITS-led Canadian Learning Community for decolonization and innovation in theological education. And he's going to be discussing this topic, "Orange Shirt Day: Beyond Performancce to Right Relationship".
Now, before Shari comes to speak with us this morning, I'd like to repeat our land acknowledgement, a statement that is important in its content, its meaning, as well as in its repetition. "For thousands of years the Greater Toronto Area has been the traditional land of the Huron-Wendat, the Seneca and most recently, the Mississaugas of the Credit River. It is part of the 'Dish With One Spoon Territory', a treaty between the Anishinaabe, Mississaugas Haudenosaunee that committed them together to share the territory and protect the land. Other Indigenous peoples and Nations have subsequently entered this territory in the spirit of peace, friendship and respect. It is on these lands and in this spirit that Tyndale seeks to engage in its work." As I've already mentioned, Dr. Shari Russell is here today. She herself is Anishinaabe and Saulteaux, registered at the Yellow Quill, First Nation in Saskatchewan. She's married to Robert, and they have three adult sons, Charles, Gavin, and Brannon. As a young child, Shari was taken from her home and her community during the Sixties Scoop. When their sons were young, Shari reconnected with her biological family and community, and it's in this journey of reconnecting with her cultural traditions that has been healing and restorative as Shari seeks to engage both her indigenous identity and faith journey as a follower of Jesus Christ. As I've already indicated, Shari is currently the director of NAIITS, which is actually located here, among other theological institutions across Canada. She says that directorship has been a rich and rewarding experience. Dr. Russell, please.
DR. SHARI RUSSELL: Aning sigua. Whoa, I knew I was short, but I'm really short. Anin sigua, Nina, nishinabe Kwe on jubicon, saigaguni, kiwapa kan ni mama, muskomana, Kwe nindishna cause, Shari Russell. Nindishna cause, I debated whether to introduce myself right at the beginning in my traditional language, but as I sat there listening to the music Hebrews 11 came to me where it talks about our ancestors, those that have gone on before, cheering us on and one of my elders said that whenever we have an opportunity to speak our language, to share, and I'm still learning, but whenever we have an opportunity to speak in our language, our ancestors that were not allowed, especially to speak their language in places like this, hear those words, and there is healing that happens in that. And so I want to acknowledge those that have gone on before, including my sisters that were not allowed to speak their language in such a place. And so I pray that they hear and are encouraged by the fact that we are on this journey together of reconciliation.
In the scripture passage that you heard today, the Psalmist asked, "How long, how long O Lord?", and this is often from the perspective of the one who has suffered. I've heard the question, "How long?", asked of those suffering, of those grieving, of those in pain, "How long before you get better? How long will you be in pain? How long do we have to listen and hear about your pain?" We often don't hear it flipped, however, and asked of those who have inflicted that pain or suffering, "How long will you allow this to continue? How long will we experience the strife and suffering that we've endured?"
Recently, a colleague of mine, Maria Wong, who's the provost of City Seminary in New York, gifted me a book that she recently published. And this summer, after I finished my dissertation, I took some time and I started reading this book, and she builds each chapter around a key question, and the first question is, "Do you have time to remember?" At one point, she shares a story of doing a learning exercise where the professor encourages her students to go outside and listen. And so a few days later, Maria takes a yoga mat and she places it on the busy streets of New York City. And she then makes sure that she doesn't block the vendors and the stores. And she places a picnic blanket on top of the mat to make it a little softer. And she pulls out a thermos of water and takes a drink. And then she takes out a bottle of bubbles and some sidewalk chalk, and on the sidewalk she writes, "Do you have time to remember?"
Soon a girl in her 20s with purple hair joins her, and they engage in a conversation while blowing bubbles, and the young girl then draws an image with red chalk next to the text that Maria wrote. Soon, a tall, lanky tourist from England stops and converses with them and has some of his preconceived perceptions corrected in that moment. "Do you have time to remember?" On a busy New York street in the middle of a workday, people stopped to remember. There are some things in life we want to remember, all those good feel good stories that we have, lots of things we want to remember. Sometimes we want to remember jokes to make people laugh. Sometimes we want to remember movies so that we can quote wonderful little stories or anecdotes.
But sometimes there are things we want to forget, and it's often the difficult things that we want to forget when painful things occur, we would rather not have to remember them, as Henri Nouwen in his book, The Living Reminder, says, "Our first and most spontaneous response to our undesirable memories is to forget them. When something painful has happened, we quickly say to ourselves and to each other: "Let's forget it, let's act as if it did not happen, let's not talk about it, let's think about happier things."
Recently, as in last week, when I was in Winnipeg for the Truth and Reconciliation Week, I was there at Providence. But while I was there at Providence, there was somebody that visited the University of Manitoba, where the National Center for Truth and Reconciliation is housed. It was a former professor who had been dismissed from her institution in another province, and she was coming to confront the leaders, administration, and researchers of the National Center for Truth and Reconciliation. She was a denialist, or is a denialist who has written a book refuting the story of Indian residential schools. No, I will not say her name or the book she has written. She is not the first, however, and sadly, she probably won't be the last.
Remembering is difficult for some. We want to forget it. We want to get over it. We want to deny it even happened. As Henri Nouwen says in this quote, "We want to forget the pains of our past- our personal, communal, and national traumas- and live as if they did not really happen. But by not remembering them, we allow the forgotten memories to become independent forces that can exert a crippling effect on our functioning as human beings." When this happens, we become strangers to ourselves, because we cut down our history to a pleasant, comfortable size and try to make it conform to our own daydreams. Forgetting the past is like turning our most intimate teacher against us.
By refusing to face our painful memories, we miss the opportunity to change our hearts and grow mature in repentance. It is important to remember, and I'm thankful that the government designated this day as a National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, to commemorate, to remember the national trauma that we have experienced as Indigenous peoples through the Indian residential system, but also as non Indigenous peoples who often had no clue what was going on right next door to them. I've heard many of my friends that say, you know, we knew that there was this big school there, but we had no clue what was going on.
Often, when we think of the Indian residential schools, we see pictures in black and white, as you see there, which reinforce the concept that they were in the past, the real, distant past, before we had color that they don't really impact our current experience or population. The Canadian government officially recognized the last federally run Indian residential school that closed in 1996. What we don't often hear is that there were some schools that took a little longer to officially close down. There's another slide. So if in the background you see, oh, go back to that one there, because it's in black and white, you see the black and white picture there of Muscowequan Indian Residential School, which is in Lestock, Saskatchewan, and that ran from 1889 to 1997 there's actually ones that have closed in 1998 but the next picture, there is the same picture of this building, and it's in color, Lestock, Saskatchewan.
My sisters have since journeyed on from this world into the next, but I've heard that they went to school in Lestock. And so my assumption is, and I need to do my research, is that they went to Muscowequan, sorry, I'm gonna say it right. Muscowequan First Nation Earth Residential School, which is on Muskowekwan First Nation. My sisters went to this school, and this imposing three story brick building now stands on the site that was erected in 1931 because the first previous building that was there burned down, and so they rebuilt it, and Muskowekwan First Nation has been advocating to maintain this building as a site for remembrance for their community. Many residential schools were torn down, and when they're torn down, it's easy to erase that from our memory. It's easy to erase it from our history. And so they've been fighting to keep it as a site of remembrance. And in 2021 it was designated as a National Historic Site.
Why is it important to remember this? Henri Nouwen continues with this quote, and he says, "...to forget our sins may be an even greater sin than to commit them. Why? Because what is forgotten cannot be healed and that which cannot be easily healed easily becomes the cause of greater evil." And following that quote, he actually talks about Elie Wiesel and the Holocaust and remembering the sins of the Holocaust and for us in our own nation, we need to remember the sins that were committed in and through the Indian residential schools. Reconciliation today is a day for truth and reconciliation.
Reconciliation requires remembering, remembering not just the fact that the objective of the Indian residential school was not just the nominal goal of educating Indigenous children. And we hear people that say, well, they at least got an education out of this. But the goal was also to christianize us and to assimilate us into mainstream Canadian society. And it is for this we need to lament. Soong-Chan Rah has written a book entitled Prophetic Lament, in which he reminds us that, "True reconciliation requires a remembering of suffering, an unearthing of a shameful history, and a willingness to enter into lament.
Lament calls for an authentic encounter with the truth and challenges privilege, because privilege would hide the truth that creates discomfort." Should I read that one again? "True reconciliation requires a remembering of suffering..." We need to remember those that have suffered and continue to suffer to this day, that went through Indian residential schools. It requires "...an unearthing of a shameful history and a willingness to enter into lament. Lament calls for an authentic encounter with the truth and challenges privilege, because privilege would hide the truth that creates discomfort." True reconciliation requires an encounter with the truth, not denying it. It might be uncomfortable, it may be unsettling, it might be heart wrenching. It may turn your world upside down as you learn the truth. But it's necessary for reconciliation to come to grips with the truth.
This may be difficult, as much of our Christian experience focuses on how God has blessed us that in the midst of difficulties, He will take and transform those difficulties. Many Indigenous people, however, struggle with that thinking they want and need to, first of all, lament, and we invite you into that, to lament with us, not to just say, "Oh, it wasn't that bad", or, "you know, it's not the same today". We need you to hear the experience. We need you to hear how even today, things are not quite the way that they should be, and so true reconciliation requires establishing right relations, and I'm so thankful that Mike is here.
He is a good friend and ally of the Indigenous community. He has walked well with us. He has learned what the Two Row Wampum means, and he'll talk a little bit about right relations today. So I encourage you, if you can, if you can fit in the room, come and listen to that. A little while ago, I was asked to write a little snippet for Faith Today and about reconciliation, and so I just want to read what I wrote, because it talks about not reconciliation, because many people struggle with that word. It's become very performanent, performative. The government has taken and made it something that it's not always what it's meant to be. And I say as followers of Jesus, we need to reclaim that word, especially when it comes to our relationship with one another and with all creation.
And so I talk about the journey of right relations with Indigenous peoples begins with one: one person, one moment, one step, one action. Each one of us is invited to embark on this journey. Each one of us has the opportunity to engage in relationship and to impact the future. When it comes to establishing right relations there are signposts along the way. People always say, Well, what does it mean? And we've been telling you for decades. In the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, which was probably before some of you were born, in 1996 it outlined the responsibility as one of the four principles for right relations. And so they talk about four principles that are required for right relationship, and responsibility is one of them. And I just want to say responsibility is not about laying blame or finding fault. It is not about feeling bad or trying to change the past, but it's about the present and making different decisions today. It means moving beyond defensiveness or avoidance to humility and acceptance. Responsibility is acknowledging what has happened and choosing to do something different.
Responsibility means accepting our role to participate in transforming the relationship through our attitudes, our beliefs, behaviors and our communication. It is choosing to walk one step at a time, more carefully and respectfully now and in the future. The journey begins with one and I see many ones here today. My prayer is that you are willing to take the first step and to courageously learn and what it means to walk in right relations. And this takes time. "How long?", was the question at the beginning. And Maria wrote on the sidewalk, "Do you have time?" Do you have time? Time to hear the truth, to hear the shameful history of our nation and the church without dismissing it, without becoming hard hearted or indifferent to it.
Do you have the time to lament the sin of our nation without responding by saying, well, it wasn't me that did this, or it didn't happen to everyone. So why focus on the negative? Do you have the time to lament? Do you have time to take responsibility, and will you make the time to build right relations? There's a beautiful Franciscan prayer that I would like to finish with, and this is the benediction. I sometimes think that some of our forefathers in the Christian faith would have been allies of Indigenous people. I think of Henri Nouwen, and I think of some of our Franciscan friends that were allies. And so this prayer, I'm going to invite you to stand.
May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within Your heart. May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace. May God bless you with tears, to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain to joy. And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can, you can make a difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor. Amen. May you go and may you walk in right relations this day as you walk gently with one another.