Message given at Durham Friends Meeting, July 7, 2024

My working theme for this message has been integrity, journey and courage.  This past month my thoughts have been on national voting impacted by Brexit, a day of remembrance for those killed in the troubles, a weekend seminar on Borderlands. 

Following the result of the Brexit referendum, Corrymeela produced biblical resources to enable Christian faith communities to talk about the nature of borders and belongings and the difficulties thrown up by Brexit. These resources have been used for catalysing conversation about all manner of borders we make between ourselves.

One such resource is that of Borderlands which met for a residential a few weeks ago.  I was able to attend part of the sessions.  

Outside of the residential Borderlands is a monthly gathering in Belfast of those who are exploring the edges of faith, the borderland of faith and our society using stories, poetry readings, music, songs, courageous conversations on faith, doubt, questions, meaning outside of traditional church, for people to come together to explore faith on the edge, at the borders of where faith stands – in a bar.   Borderlands creates a brave and bold space for people to explore difficult – often life-changing – moments from their personal lives to help others find solidarity and healing, to be agents of peace and change in the world.   To be a safe space and also a courageous space for those who ‘don’t sit comfortably in or feel excluded from the traditional spaces of faith.  Space for meaningful encounter, sacred stories, using scripture to open and extend courageous conversations rather than close them.”

Borders.  Edges. Frames with edges.  If you move the frame you are looking through the picture changes. What you see and understand changes. Borders. That which makes us stop and go no further. To declare this is us and there is you, the other.   Where we encounter our perceived limits, walls, frames. 

Each time we come to the edge or borders we can choose to go beyond or to stand and ponder, to figure out what this edge means, how it defines and defined us and what is beyond.  Can we go beyond?  Do we want to go beyond?  Why? Why not? 

At our borders we can choose to move beyond us-them divisions to ‘we’.  Many of you in this room are doing just that in the courageous conversations, seminars, writings, facilitation of different groups and more.

The Borderlands gatherings provide a space for courageous conversations along with safe places.  

Quakers were and are often on the edge.  They pushed borders, boundaries, pushed the limits of society and established churches throughout history. 

So also with the Beatitudes.  These new words and invitations were and are challenges and inspiration from Jesus to expand our understanding of others and ourselves in our struggles and poverty.  An invitation to shift our understanding of God’s love for all and  enter into courageous conversations and relationships rather than close them with walls and borders.  The Beatitudes were presented to the crowds, blessings that were on the edge.  A reading from ‘First Nations Version. An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament.  I was inspired to purchase the book after a visit from one of the authors of the book The Gatherings.

A new road, beyond the borders of the writings of the Old Testament.  ‘You have heard that it was said, an eye for an eye …  but I tell you …If some one strikes you on the cheek, or if someone wants to take your tunic give it away along with your cloak.  If someone forces you to go one mile, go two miles.   MT 5:38

We are called to go beyond the expected.  Go beyond our physical, social and psychological borders.  To be courageous.  To share the love of Spirit, God, Jesus to all.  ‘A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.’  MT 13:34  This is illustrated further in the parable of the Good Samaritan. 

‘I am giving you a new road to walk’ he said.  In the same way I have loved you, you are to love each other. ‘  First Nations version.

My personal borders.

Talking to another who has a different opinion than my own.  Where our passions contradict each other.  At least at first then we see our commonalities.  We share our truths.  Not in anger but in sharing our experiences of love of those who are a part of our stories and experiences. 

There are 2 woman who sit in the Coleraine town square.  On the ground.  I assume they do not have a home or much money.  My personal borders are raised high when I pass by.   What keeps me from doing anything?  What might I do to help?  How might I best love my neighbour?  What walls and borders keep me from acting, reaching out?

My sense of belonging where I live now.  Struggled for many years to come to terms with a desire and a need.  Limited in my frame which indicated my picture was only to be in the states but now see that the frame can be moved to include the US and where I live now.  As a good friend once said – when you know where your home is then home is everywhere.

My discomfort with the borders of the zoom frame which limits my ability to fully engage and connect with others in worship. 

It takes courage to look though the walls, to break them down, to build windows in them, to look beyond the edge of our personal borders. 

What truth is yours?  What truths are yours?  What borders do you come to in living your truth?  Borders of standing still and waiting for more insight or borders of courageous conversations?

I offer this final reading from John Lampen, who, along with his wife Diana, was the Director of Quaker House in Belfast during the Troubles.  A house where people from both sides of the walls and borders came together for courageous conversations.

An old Greek priest, a refugee, dreams that a small bird perches in front of him on a branch, singing so beautifully that all he wants is to catch it. As he tiptoes towards it, it flies away to another branch, still singing.  He follows it: and again it flies a little way off.  The dream lengthens out to days, to years, to the length of his life, and still it is out of reach, captivating him with its song.  Jesus, brother, enchant us too with your singing.  Stay beyond our grasp, do not let us put you in a cage.  Lead us forward.  John Lampen, 1985 [From Quaker Life and Practice: A Book of the Christian Experience of the Religious Society of Friends in Ireland, 1.110].

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More about Corrymeela here.

Available on the Corrymeela website is Exploring Brexit Through the Lens of Ruth

“An Indigenous Quaker’s Relationship with Christianity,” by  Gail Melix/Greenwater

Message to Durham Friends Meeting, June 2, 2024.

Wunee keesuq -good day- friends. Nutus8ees – I am- Gail Melix. My Native name is Greenwater. Nutomas – I am from… the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe of Plymouth, the tribe that met the Pilgrims. Plymouth was originally called Patuxet, a Wampanoag name meaning The Place of Little Waterfalls. I am just beginning to learn my Wopanaak language. There is great joy in this. 

My father was Wampanoag and German. He is deceased. My mother’s people, from England, came over on the Mayflower, and were Puritans who became convinced Quakers. Many generations ago someone in my family tree decided to marry other than a Quaker, so they were no longer members. In 1980 I attended my first Quaker Meeting, the first in my family to return, brought in hand by a friend who told me, “You are a Quaker, you just don’t know it yet.” From that very first meeting for worship I knew this is where I belonged and had been seeking it for many years. 

I am a member of Sandwich Monthly Meeting, and I attend East Sandwich Preparative Meeting, which is located on ancestral homeland of the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe. The Wampanoag of Massachusetts and Eastern RI have lived in these areas for more than 12,000 years.

It is delightful to be here. Thank you for the invitation. The plans were to come in person but I fractured my fibula where it meets up with the ankle, making it difficult to travel. I’m here to share part of my journey as an Indigenous Quaker. 

When preparing for today I felt led to begin my message to you with an Indigenous translation of the Lord’s prayer. [Creator-Sets-Free is the Indigenous name given Jesus in the First Nations version of The New Testament)]

“Our Father” (First Nations Version), Matthew 6: 9-13

Creator sets free, Jesus, said: 

“When you send your voice to the Great Spirit, here is how you should pray:

O Great Spirit, our Father from above, we honor your name as sacred and holy.

Bring your good road to us, where the beauty of your ways in the spirit world above is reflected in the earth below.

Provide for us day by day—the elk, the buffalo, and the salmon.

The corn, the squash, and the wild rice.  All the things we need for each day.

Release us from the things we have done wrong, in the same way we release others for the things done wrong to us.

Guide us away from the things that tempt us to stray from your good road, and set us free from the evil one and his worthless ways.

Aho!  May it be so!”    

This prayer can be found in the book, First Nations Version, an Indigenous Translation of the New Testament. This publication of the bible really resonates with me and other Indigenous peoples that I share it with. “It connects, in a culturally relevant way, to the traditional heart languages of over 6 million English speaking First Nations People of North America” as stated by the Indigenous authors. It follows the tradition of storytellers of our oral cultures. I find the language profoundly beautiful, as did the Indigenous who wrote this translation, which included Native Americans from over 25 tribes. More information about how this bible came to be, the method of translation and a list of the tribes that were involved in the writing of it can be found in the introduction of the book.

Great Spirit, Creator, Great Mystery, Maker of Life, Giver of Breath, One Above us All, and Most Holy One are a few of the names for God you will find in this translation. 

I have had several opportunities to share the First Nations Version of the New Testament with my Indigenous friends and there has been a lot of interest in it. I met 7 Indigenous Grandmothers who led a recent retreat at Woolman Hill and represented many different tribes. There was interest in knowing more about the First Nation’s version of the New Testament and plans to order it.  

 I belong to a group of Indigenous Quakers from across North America and a few from Canada who meet regularly on Zoom to share our stories and our concerns. We discuss the ways in which we are addressing Indigenous rights. We’re asked this question, what draws you to the Quaker faith? What does it add to your Indigenous ways? The number one answer is…. We are Quakers because of the worship.  Other factors: Because of the peace testimony, because of social justice work, because it is a living faith, because of the connection to Creator that is possible from silence. Indigenous Quakers also attend the Decolonizing Quakers steering committee meetings. It’s a good example of how right relationship can blossom when Indigenous and Quakers spend time together.     

I’d also like to share what it means to me to be an Indigenous Quaker.  Choosing Indigenous or Quaker is not a choice for me. What I know is that together they make me whole. The mix adds a tenderness and warmth to my sometimes-rough edges. Worship from a deep well of silence with expectant waiting is one of my favorite places. I don’t see it as just a place of waiting.  Sometimes it becomes a place of mystery for contemplation and discovery. Sometimes I bring a hawk or a favorite tree into expectant waiting with me and I can feel God’s smile. God loves when we witness and acknowledge the beauty of his creations. I love that Our Living Quaker faith is always in the here and now, any moment the possibility of revelation, of incarnation… And Jesus connects me more deeply with a God that I can’t fully conceive of or imagine a face for. When I am despairing it is Jesus who weeps with me and comforts me. He teaches me how to better Love God, myself, and others.  He knows me. 

The named Christianity that came to this country during colonization, fueled by The Doctrine of Discovery, allowed Christian explorers in the name of their sovereign, to claim and seize land if it was not owned by a Christian. There were over 1,000 treaties that were never recognized or honored. The named Christianity that came to this country ran boarding schools for over 150 years that stripped Indigenous children of their identities, cultural values, and traditions, abused them and separated them from their families and caused intergenerational trauma. Genocide. This is not Christianity in any form. There is nothing of Jesus’ teachings here. When my Indigenous friends question me about the effect of Christianity on Native people during colonization this is what I tell them, this was not Christianity being practiced.

I believe that Quakers had good intentions. Education is important to Quakers and some worried that if children did not learn English and the ways of a changing world it would be to their detriment.  That may be true but how come they could not see that of God in Native people? That’s such a basic tenet of Quakers. How could Quaker Indigenous Boarding Schools go on for over 100 years and no one see the harm being done? It’s unbelievable to me. No one had an inkling that their sense of privilege and superiority was destroying a culture? So I struggle with this part of our Quaker history.  I opened myself up to grieving all that was lost, all the harm done, and the great suffering that resulted. I did this alone and in worship with others. This is ongoing.

My father raised me with traditional values and cultural practices.  There was respect and gratitude for the natural world. We were taught to be thankful. We were taught to be kind and help others. To share what we have. He was a quiet and gentle man, spoke sparingly and only when something needed to be said. You take care of the land and the land will take care of you Gail. He walked softly and when he was outdoors his eyes were everywhere, taking notice of everything. He loved animals and trees and gardening and fishing.  He would say with a smile, “Nature is my church.” He was very kind and rarely raised his voice. He was the one who took splinters out of us. Even though my mother was a nurse. He liked peaceful spaces and harmony. Dad was outdoors whenever he could be. In part, prayer worked best for him outdoors. He could communicate better with his ancestors in the natural world. 

I am thankful for my mixed heritage and my two faith communities which connect me so deeply to my Creator and the Lord. I see and feel the many similarities, including core values that both faiths share. Building relationships between Indigenous and Quakers will take time but I see many places where this is already happening. I look forward to serving in this way, as led by the Divine, doing what is mine to do. 

Lakota prayer: 

The Elders tell us the greatest gift we can seek is peace of mind; to walk in balance, to respect all things. For us to do this, we must have peace within ourselves and peace within ourselves cannot come unless we are walking the path the Creator would have us walk. Sometimes the tests on this path are difficult, but we know that each test makes us stronger.

Oh Great Spirit, I ask You to whisper your wisdom in my heart. You are the only one that knows the secret to peaceful living and the mystery of harmony. Teach me of Your peace, understanding and balance, and guide me onto your good path.

Aho /Amen

Thank you, friends, at Durham Friends Meeting for your invite. I want to thank my elders who have been holding all of us and this meeting space in prayer: Leslie Manning and Ken Jacobsen.

Message given at Durham Friends Meeting, May 12, 2024.