On Sunday morning, Rev. George Yando drives his van past two houses, picking up people who can't drive to the reserve on their own. Seated comfortably, the three elderly men and women talk candidly, laughing about their week and the rutted road that takes them to the small white church on the Mistawasis reserve.
As the group talks, their views on the church, on native customs, on their heritage, begin to surface.
Mabel Pechawis attended a residential school for four years. Her brothers did the same — one didn't come home alive, dying of meningitis. She tells tales of working long hours in the kitchen under an abusive cook, of not getting enough food to eat, of making her sisters rehearse proper Christian prayers so as not to upset their teachers. She laughs lightly as she speaks, the lines around her eyes deepening.
Despite her school experience, Pechawis is fiercely loyal to her church. When asked if native spirituality should be introduced at Sunday worship — something Yando would be willing to do if asked — she is adamant. “Definitely not!” she says. “I have communion and holy water, and that's enough.”
Lilian Semaganis is also a firm believer. But when asked the same question, she takes a more moderate approach. “Everyone has different views,” she admits, noting that Christian customs and native spirituality can work together. “God, Creator, Great Spirit. It's all the same.”
The century-old Mistawasis church is a unique native ministry in the PCC. Instead of the food banks, homeless shelters and drop-in centres that characterize the other missions, Mistawasis largely ministers to the converted — to parents who bring their kids to Sunday service and to seniors who harbour a deep allegiance to the church.
A day earlier, the van stopped at another home — this time on the reserve — belonging to a church elder. Harvey Pechawis, a Plains Cree, has been a member of the congregation for 15 years and is Mabel's brother.
In his yard sits an old, fixed-up school bus, which Pechawis uses to take kids to church each Sunday. Inside, tea is quickly brewed and biscuits offered. The silver-haired Pechawis soon reveals his feelings. “It's not like 35 years ago, when everyone went to church,” he said. “Numbers are down because of more traditional native spirituality. It takes them away from church.”
However, he seems to mourn the division between the traditions. “There's so much confusion,” he said. “There's no understanding between the two. It's sad and unfortunate.”
