|
By John T. Crestwell, Jr.
April 18, 2004
Reading from Black Elk Speaks
Pg 150 then except on 149
I have often marveled at the love and respect Native Americans pay
to Mother earth and to their ancestors. There is something very
precious in the way they understand life. Life is cyclical. The
power of life is in what Black Elk called the “sacred hoop”. They
expect to live, to find their place in the circle of life, to
function in their role as a part of nature and then to “go gentle
into the night” as they find their place with the earth once again,
in death.
One of the other things I love is that many Native Americans have a
deep respect and reverence for their elders. They understand that
the Grandmothers and Grandfathers carry the wisdom of the ages. But
it is obvious when you look at our world today with the many issues
facing the elderly like healthcare, those outrageous medical
expenses, social security, crimes against the elderly, and just
genuine disrespect, we are not in touch with people who sacrificed
and paved the way for us to be here today.
If it were not for my grandmother I don’t know where I’d be. My
grandmother, Nana, as she was called, was a powerful force in my
family. She taught my mother the importance of church, and demanded
that her grandchildren be involved in activities to keep their
fragile and active minds on something productive. And this title
“Nana” is appropriate for her. In some African cultures this is a
title for one who is the head of a tribe. It is like saying, “You’re
royal highness!” She was surely worthy of the phrase, as she was my
family’s matriarch and patriarch. Nana gave money and fed us when
the funds in the household were coming up a little short, and she
always had quiet but directed words of wisdom that helped my mother
make it through a rough day raising two children on her own. She
made a difference in my life. I know that now. And she lives in me.
I know you have elders who have gone before you who have made a
difference in your life. It’s a beautiful thing!
Well, this is why I thought it would be important today to hear from
our, what I call, “seasoned adults” who have been members of the
church from the very beginning or shortly after Davies church was
founded. Their stories remind us that this building did not just
appear out of thin air but that it developed through the years with
lots of love, sweat and tears. Many have come to us here at Davies,
made their mark, and left us with lasting memories that keep their
spirits alive each and everyday. As long as we remember and pay
homage to their commitment to this church, they live and we honor
our past.
You know, I can understand if some of you, who have been here a long
time, might be a bit uncomfortable with all of the “stuff” that’s
going on. With all of this talk of growth and change, I can
understand if you are apprehensive. For we live in a society, as I
said, that does not honor its elders. We live in a society that says
when you get to a certain ripe age, “Well, your life’s over GET OUT
THE WAY. NEXT!” We don’t care to learn from our past, and as a
result, we continuously repeat the vices of generations who did not
listen. It’s a sort of cyclical purgatory. But if we listen, if we
take note of the lessons the past teaches, we could create a
brighter present, and a colorful future. The grandmothers and
grandfathers teach these lessons whether in a tribe, family or
church.
And so here we are, your leadership, asking you to trust us in
carrying on what you older members have built; asking you to trust
us that we will not make a mockery of what you have sacrificed for;
asking you to trust us with the future of this place, your sacred
space; asking you to trust us that we will not forget the impact of
your commitments. I hold that trust close to my heart.
Another aspect of Native American culture and spirituality is that
at a certain age, boys become men and girls become women anywhere
from ten to twelve years old. Can you imagine? This would mean my
son, J.T., would be a man in a little over a year 1/2 and Kennedy,
my daughter, a woman in three years. My, my, my…
The point is, and I
briefly mentioned this, Native Americans do not fight the natural
progression of life. Many Native American cultures believe that once
a girl or boy’s body matures to a point where they can procreate,
they move into their role as an adult. There are other rituals they
have for celebrating the varying stages of life too. The change does
not frighten them. We can learn from this… Our culture, Western
civilization, fights the process. You know… Stay young as long as
you can, get plastic surgery, a lift here a tuck there, stay on the
Atkins diet for twenty years, try to look like your twenty when
you’re fifty, you know what I’m talking about. I’m not talking about
health. I’m talking about our obsession with not accepting what life
is. We fight. I fight it. I’m guilty too…
We have to somehow develop the calm assurance that change is okay.
It is life. And death is okay. It is life. If we look at our lives
as relay race— I think this analogy works if you allow me to be a
little creative…
You have this round track, the track of life. And you have the
players all on the same team working at the same cause—get around
the track. The goal is to pass the baton successfully to the next
person without dropping it. If you are truly in rhythm with your
team then the team will probably make it around very quickly and
gracefully. Place, or where you finish is not important in my
analogy. If you’re a little out of sync with your baton, your team
will still make it around the track but not without struggle. And
even if you have continuous drops of the baton, it will take your
team awhile to come on home, there will be a lot of suffering, but
they will still find their way around.
The point is we all run this race and should pass the baton
smoothly. When we fight the flow we are fighting nature. I’m saying
that accepting our place in existence, whether we are young and need
to find time to respect and learn from our elders or we are old and
must look to pass on our wisdom, we need not fight where we are,
rather we must be willing to pass the baton.
The last leg on the relay is called the “anchor leg”. As we move
through life we start as the first leg of the relay and move on to
the second leg and third leg and eventually we have to run that
anchor and bring it on home. How will you run your leg of the race
wherever you are?
I was talking with Race Dowling on one occasion and I asked him how
he makes sense of his mortality as an Atheist with no belief in an
afterlife? He said that he lives to leave a legacy that is positive
and meaningful; to leave a legacy that does not dishonor his past
and to pass on whatever gems he has to his children and those with
whom he comes in contact. He believes his eternal life is in passing
a bit of himself on to others.
What are we passing on this morning? Are we passing on a bit of who
we are to the next generation? Are we learning from those who have
gone before us?
We have a lot to do in the coming months. I ask that you embrace the
change. Share your stories even more. I ask that you pass on your
commitment and pass on your love to all the new faces we see. And to
these beautiful new faces, I ask that you honor our seasoned adults,
our grandmothers and grandfathers. Let us move through this race of
life, passing the proverbial baton of love to each runner so that as
a church and as individuals we might leave a little of us behind and
“go gently into the night.”
“It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing
That’s how it is with LOVE once you experience it;
you spread the love to everyone; you want to pass it on.
What a wondrous time is spring, when all the trees are budding;
the birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming.
That’s how it is with LOVE once you experience it;
you want to sing, it’s fresh like spring, you want to pass it on.
I wish for you my friend this happiness that I’ve found;
you’ll find this joy within, it matters not where you’re bound
I’ll shout it from the mountaintop; I want my world to know;
the light of love has come to me, I want to pass it on!”
Pass it on: Adapted
Music/Words: Kurt Kaiser, 1969
|
