Three events in the early 1990s precipitated a crisis of faith and a reconsideration of my relationship with aboriginal peoples — indeed, with all people.
The first event began when the mayor of Oka, Que., proposed the extension of a golf course onto land that Mohawks claimed as ancestral. The Mohawks responded with a barricade. The situation escalated when police attacked and an officer was killed. Only with the involvement of the Armed Forces did negotiations begin. Finally after almost six months, the stand-off ended.
The second event was the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops in Saskatchewan, held because of breaking awareness of abuses at residential schools run by Roman Catholic Church entities. Aboriginal people at that meeting were invited to tell their stories; I heard, firsthand and for the first time, stories of sexual and physical abuse.
Lastly, I visited two residential schools run by the Presbyterian Church: Birtle in Winnipeg, and Cecilia Jeffrey in northern Ontario. Having naïvely believed that abuses did not happen at Presbyterian schools, I listened to former students detail the abuses they had suffered.
All three experiences, particularly the last, were traumatic. In all my years of ministry, I had never realized how cultural dominance had been so devastating to aboriginal peoples. An education model sponsored by my church had led to one of the most horrendous events in Canadian history. This realization forever changed my life.
Born and raised in Glasgow, Scotland, I grew up with little exposure to aboriginal peoples (the term used was “Indian,” or “red Indian,” to avoid confusion with people from India). In cowboy movies, Indians were portrayed as bad guys, with white settlers being good guys to whom, by right of conquest, North America belonged. Any good Indians were supporting whites in their conquest. In history class, good Indians supported the British conquest of Canada. A major cultural image was the world map with the “pink bits” representing countries that were parts of the British Empire.
Shaken by the three events, suddenly I could not remember those pink bits on the world map without thinking how a European understanding of colonial conquest had been imposed on indigenous people on every continent. No longer did I believe that my way was the only way. Learning about the pain and struggle of the aboriginal peoples of Canada broadened my life and forever changed my worldview.
In 1992, the Presbyterian Church in Canada set up a review committee. It recommended how the church should work with aboriginal peoples, and that the church adopt a confession to God and aboriginal peoples, acknowledging the church’s complicity in an assimilation policy and recognizing that the residential school system was systemically flawed, allowing the possibility of abuse. While a confession needed further work, General Assembly agreed with recommendations, “That the church commit itself to listen to the issues as they are named and described by aboriginal peoples … support healing processes that arise from aboriginal peoples themselves … [and] commit itself to seeking ways to work with aboriginal peoples in calling the Government of Canada to acknowledge that its policies were harmful … ”
Two years later, the church adopted the Confession with moderator Rev. George Vais presenting it to Grand Chief Phil Fontaine of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs in the fall of 1994 in Winnipeg. Accepting the apology, the Grand Chief said he could not yet forgive the church. (He attended and was abused in a school run by an order in the Roman Catholic Church.)
By this time a growing number of claims made against the Government of Canada and the churches required resolution. Participating in the challenge of trying to resolve the impact of these claims included working with colleagues from the United Church, the Anglican Church and the Roman Catholic Church, as well as government representatives and native peoples.
The many meetings with aboriginal people gave us opportunities to become acquainted and to know each other by name. While anger was often expressed, there was also forgiveness as the church recognized its complicity in the assimilation policy. From our aboriginal brothers and sisters, I have learned there is another way of thinking about life and its challenges. I am eternally grateful to them for teaching me.
My most difficult and rewarding responsibility has been as PCC representative at the individual assessment program hearings. After the claimant’s lawyer and the government representative speak, the church representative addresses the claimant. I speak of how I became involved with the PCC, how I learned only of the good things that happened at the schools, and how shocked I was to learn that my church was no different from the others. Then I speak of my healing journey and the church’s struggle to adopt a confession to God and aboriginal peoples. I usually read aloud portions of the confession, and say that the church asked me to share this confession, to apologize for any hurt that the claimant has experienced through the neglect of the Presbyterian Church, and to ask for the claimant’s forgiveness.
At one hearing after I spoke, the claimant stood up opposite me, walked around the table, passed his lawyer and the health worker until he reached me. He reached out and gave me a firm handshake and hug, saying that the church was forgiven. He returned to his seat and stated, with tears in his eyes, “This is the happiest day of my life,” because the church admitted what it did was wrong.
Where do we go from here? The church must be involved wherever and whenever it can in the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The church must continue to pressure the Canadian government to deal with outstanding issues about land and indigenous rights, and revive the recommendations in the report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. The hardest job will be convincing the people of Canada to accept that the aboriginal peoples of Canada have a unique relationship with those of us who have come to these shores, regardless of how long ago or how recent.
