An Alternative Starting Place for an Indigenous

by

Raymond Clifford Aldred

A Thesis submitted to the Faculty of Wycliffe College and the Graduate Centre for Theological Studies of the Toronto School of Theology.

In partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Theology awarded by Wycliffe College and the University of Toronto.

© Copyright by Raymond Clifford Aldred 2020

An Alternative Starting Place for an Indigenous Theology

Raymond Clifford Aldred

Doctor of Theology

Wycliffe College and the University of Toronto

2020 ABSTRACT

This thesis is an exploration of the intersection between an Indigenous narrative communal and Christian theology. It demonstrates that Indigenous communal identity is grounded in narrative, and that includes a strong sense of solidarity with the land. Furthermore, it demonstrates that Indigenous identity is not just based upon narrative but is also shaped by a shared story, one that brings the changing context of Indigenous in Canada together with the goal of maintaining in the land.

This work has profound implications for how Indigenous people theologize. Since

Indigenous communal identity elevates the role of narrative and land, a narrative approach to scripture will be more prominent than approaches taken by the first evangelical introduced among Indigenous people in Canada, the more common of which have tended to commodify land and essentialize story. What is more, through its dialogue with Ricoeur and

Pannenberg, the approach taken here extends scholarship on the of embodied existence.

Carl Henry, particularly his propositional approach, which was adopted by the majority of evangelical Christian missions in Canada, will serve as an historical Canadian dialogue partner. Conservative evangelicals like Carl Henry and his theological heirs concerned themselves with finding a starting-place of doctrinal purity through the articulation and defence of eternal in the form of propositional statements—an approach that concludes by replacing the gospel story with statements of . As a consequence, Indigenous people have

ii

been required to make their way through the necessary truth statements, in order to access the gospel story. The consequence of the reign of this theological model was that attempts at cultivating a communal Indigenous Christian theology were hindered or discounted.

This thesis proposes an alternative starting-place for an Indigenous theology, one that involves embracing Indigenous communal identity, together with its language and understanding of story.

iii

Table of Contents

ABSTRACT ...... ii

TABLE OF FIGURES ...... viii

A Short Introduction ...... 1

The Structure of the Thesis ...... 2

CHAPTER 1 ...... 7

The Issue of Indigenous Identity and Theology ...... 7

Indigenous Christian Identity: The Context ...... 10

Indigenous Christian Identity: The Thesis ...... 16

Delineating the Boundaries and Terms ...... 20

The “Gospel Story” ...... 21

A Particular Approach to and Understanding of the Role of Story ...... 22

A Specific Sense of Identity ...... 27

The Implications of Identity for Theology ...... 31

The Scope and Shape of ...... 36

Contemporary Evangelicalism ...... 37

“Kinds” of Evangelical ...... 40

Evangelicals and ...... 42

CHAPTER 2 ...... 48

Identity Development: A Communal Frame ...... 48

iv

Indigenous Identity ...... 48

Western Identity ...... 48

Identities in Conversation ...... 48

Western Theological Shifts in Understanding Identity ...... 52

Conceptions of Identity ...... 53

Identity and Land in the West ...... 55

Toward Communal Understandings ...... 59

Indigeneity and Communally Focused Identity ...... 75

Ways of Examining Community and Identity ...... 77

The Language ‘’ of the Cree ...... 79

Name that Cree ...... 88

Summary ...... 102

CHAPTER 3 ...... 107

Indigenous Identity: A Narrated Community ...... 107

Indigenous Narrative Identity ...... 111

Shame-Based Versus -Based ...... 114

Locative Versus Temporal ...... 116

Sacred Stories ...... 120

The Performative of Story ...... 123

Who is Telling the Story? ...... 127

The Storyteller and the Story ...... 130

v

The Role of the Community ...... 138

The Purpose of Story: The Maintenance of Relationships ...... 148

Relationship to Land ...... 152

Relationships Between Individual and Group and Between Groups ...... 160

Relationship to the Spiritual and Spiritual ...... 165

Relationship to Self ...... 170

CHAPTER 4 ...... 180

An Indigenous Conversation with Ricoeur ...... 180

Ricoeur on Identity, Metaphor, and Mimesis ...... 185

Ricoeur on Identity ...... 188

Ricoeur on Metaphor ...... 199

Ricoeur on Mimesis ...... 207

Summary ...... 214

CHAPTER 5 ...... 217

Native North Americans, Identity, and Pannenberg ...... 217

Communal Identity and Shared Context ...... 220

Land and Embodied Existence ...... 231

Summary ...... 244

Conclusion and Direction ...... 247

References ...... 253

Primary Indigenous North American Sources ...... 253

vi

Other References ...... 261

vii

TABLE OF FIGURES

Figure 1. Egocentric model of community ...... 75

Figure 2. Socio-centric model of community ...... 76

Figure 3. Wampum belt ...... 162

viii

A Short Introduction

The Church has been active both to the advantage and the disadvantage of First Nations, Métis, and Inuit in Canada for several hundred years. As a result, the relationship between Indigenous people and the Church in Canada is complicated. The recent work in Canada of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission concluded that Canada and, by default, the Churches of its dominant , were guilty of attempting to destroy the of Indigenous people. Since Christian theology in Canada ostensibly began with standard Western theological categories and practice and sought to apply these classifications to Indigenous identity, Indigenous identity ultimately became a theologically contingent category. As a result, theology proper is maintained as an essential, whereas Indigenous identity is something to be discarded.

Consequently, Indigenous identity in Canada has served as a foil or fodder for the dominant culture’s theological reflection. This work, then, is an exploration and a description of Indigenous identity as a starting-place for Nehiyaw (Cree) theology. Such a starting-place might serve to describe a beginning for Christian evangelical theology that is indigenous to Canada because of its relating Indigenous and Christian as together.

This thesis describes Nehiyaw identity as a communal narrative based upon a particular Indigenous approach to, and understanding of, the role of communal story, whose foundation is an Indigenous familial understanding of the land. The role of story in the formation of Indigenous identity means that in the development of Indigenous Christian theology, narrative is central to theological method. Additionally, since land is integral to Indigenous identity, a robust Indigenous Christian theology focusing on communal identity within place necessarily extends the theological scholarship surrounding embodied identity upon the earth. “Story” and “land” are therefore integral to an Indigenous Christian theology. Thus, narrative communal Indigenous identity forms a new starting place for an Indigenous “Cree” theology. This description is necessary to begin to write theology that is connected to Nehiyaw Uski (Cree Land) while taking the gospel story of Jesus Christ seriously. This new focus upon story contrasts sharply with the historical evangelical dialogue partners in the European settler theological community.

1 2

The Structure of the Thesis

This thesis, because it attempts to integrate Nehiyaw understanding, has an unusual character or form compared to a typical doctoral thesis. First, since Indigenous identity is narrative, this work has a narrative flavour. Shawn Wilson points out that in order to maintain the relational nature of Indigenous identity, an Indigenous research must switch out of a strictly academic voice.1 Wilson’s own work switches back and forth from the voice of a storyteller to the academic voice in an attempt to both his own Cree identity and make his Cree identity understood in the academy. Dine (Navajo) scholar Marilyn Notah Verney points out that the academy tends to “take things apart.” Verney continues to say that we “lose meaning by losing relationship. . . .”2 Narrative and story hold these relationships together. This thesis, therefore, leans toward narrative because it is attempting to hold Indigenous and Christian together in a relationship. A narrative approach preserves a Nehiyaw sense of orality.3 Narrative unites the and cultural within the larger thesis, while at the same attempting to have them dialogue with Western thought.

In holding together Indigenous and Western, there is an experiential component to this thesis. It is not a further attempt to explore Western ; rather, it is an exploration of the way that Western has impacted Indigenous identity within the Western academic . Margaret Kovach, a Nehiyaw scholar, explains, “Using the first person the experiential while engaging the abstract and theoretical.”4 In a similar vein, Stephen Augustine, Hereditary Chief of the Mi’kmaq Grand Council, writes, “Oral cannot be validated by the standard systems of a literate society.” 5 My thesis, therefore, uses the first person from time to time to locate myself in an Indigenous place, context, and time. The first-person voice attempts to preserve the relationships that make up my Cree experiences of hearing my relatives tell their stories. This desire to preserve relationship and identity has meant a clash between Indigenous

1 Shawn Wilson, Research Is : Indigenous Research Methods (Winnipeg: Fernwood Publishing, 2008), 9. 2 Marilyn Notah Verney, “On Authenticity,” in American Indian Thought, ed. Anne Waters (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 134. 3 Tasha Hubbard, “Voices Heard in the Silence, Held in the : Ways of Knowing Jeanette Armstrong's ‘Threads of Old Memory,’” in Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, , ed. Renate Eigenbrod and Renée Hulan (Black Point, NS: Fernwood Publishing, 2008), 144. 4 Margaret Kovach, Indigenous : Characteristics, Conversations and Contexts (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009), 21–22. 5 Renate Eigenbrod and Renée Hulan, Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, Ethics (Black Point, NS: Fernwood Publishing, 2008), 5.

3 oral culture and written traditions. As part of my Cree experience, then, this thesis is attempting to connect the Western academic approach with my Indigenous identity.

The number of doctoral theses describing Indigenous Christian theology and identity from an insider perspective are limited in number and scope, particularly from an evangelical perspective. Therefore, since this thesis is attempting to stay true to an Indigenous way of doing things, and since the lacuna of (at least preserved) Indigenous theological writing is very real, this work does not contain a formal chapter devoted to the review of the literature around an evangelical Nehiyaw theology. This thesis does engage with the few books aimed specifically at Indigenous Christian theology in chapter one. It must be understood, however, that these books are from a more classic liberal theological position and, while they contribute to my thesis, they take a decidedly different direction in their description of, and aims for, theology.

In addition, the Western scholarly writings used as dialogue partners does not seek to be exhaustive and in some sense are engaged in an ad-hoc fashion, in the sense that Western thought is pressed into service to show the legitimacy of Indigenous identity as a starting-point for a description of an Indigenous theology. Paul Ricoeur, for example, is pressed into service, not in order to offer a new description of Indigenous identity and theology, but because his surrounding metaphor and narrative help show the validity of Indigenous intuitive understanding and use of story in maintaining identity. The thesis, then, does not seek to give an exhaustive account of Ricoeur’s philosophy. This also means that there is a limitation of secondary sources surrounding Ricoeur and other Western scholars. This is because the goal of this thesis is a description of Indigenous identity, not an exhaustive or perfectly harmonized account between Western philosophy and Indigenous understanding of their own identity.6

As a Nehiyaw (Cree) researcher, I am following a method that takes seriously the relations7 that make up my identity, and I have attempted to represent these fairly within this thesis. Though anecdotal research plays a significant part in my work, it is verifiable through of the larger community.8 Thus, documents such as the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People, which collected many of the stories and remembrances of Indigenous people in Canada, a

6 I was inspired to use the term “ad-hoc” as used by Hans W. Frei in Types of Christian Theology (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), 78–29. 7 In describing “relations” I refer to multi-tiered relationships: those I have with —mother, father, siblings, aunties and uncles, and nieces and nephews, as well as those not considered family by westerners because they are not biologically related—and the land and my/our relatedness to it. 8 Wilson, 32.

4 major part in the verification of this work. The inclusion of relatives and their stories also plays a vital role in verification and has implications on this as qualitative research.

This research must be seen to honour Cree culture and people. It must locate their stories and understandings within the relationships that exist within that culture, since the anecdotes happened and, in turn, were recounted by relatives at a particular place. As Cree researcher Neal McLeod explains, this is all within a larger narrative, a shared memory.9 All of this locates the researcher within relationships, which form part of the web necessary to write from an Indigenous perspective. At the same time, this thesis is written for outsiders. It will, therefore, as Margret Kovach points out, encounter “messiness” trying to balance the “insider/outsider” relationship.10

Chapter one will expand the introduction and parameters of the work begun above by describing in more detail the complicated nature of the relationship between Indigenous identity and Christian identity, describe the dialogue partners for the thesis, and describe the context and location of the thesis.

Chapter two will explore the communal nature of Indigenous identity. The chapter begins with a brief survey of a variety of theologians who have seen a need to take a greater account of the community in the of identity. Theirs is an attempt to move beyond modern Western of identity shaped by Cartesian thought, as the modern construct of the autonomous individual is primarily of a “thinking being” set in an individualist frame of reference. Within post-modernity, there has been a move to re-establish the communal nature of identity. This thesis will build on such post-modern scholarly work, seeking to establish this communal identity by offering a description of Indigenous communal identity to fill in a perceived lacuna regarding communal identity.

After a brief discussion of Western autonomous individual identity, the chapter offers four categories of relationship that are significant for Indigenous people in Canada: the relationship between people and spiritual beings; the relationship between people and other people; the relationship between people and land or creation; and, finally, the relationship to self. These categories of relationship are then examined from the cultural artifacts of language, naming, and

9 Neal McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory: From Treaties to Contemporary (Saskatoon, SK: Purich Pub., 2007), 6. 10 Kovach, 31.

5 treaty. Next, the chapter will give examples of communal nature’s reliance upon narrative. The chapter concludes with further examples of the implications of a theology and Indigenous identity that is both communal and narrative.

This chapter explores the concept of Indigenous communal identity, describing its contours and showing its implication for Christian theology. Indigenous language, the use of names in Indigenous culture, and the role of treaty in Indigenous identity will demonstrate the significance of communal identity. Similar primary areas of relationship are observable in each: the relationship between people and the spiritual; the relationship between people and other people; the relationship between people and land or creation; and, finally, the relationship to one’s own identity. The interplay between these “classes” of relationship will establish that, since Indigenous identity is communal, it has employed narrative or story to construct and maintain identity and relationships.

Chapter three then explores how story functions in the formation and preservation of Indigenous identity among Indigenous people, particularly among the Cree in Canada. By way of , I have chosen to reflect upon how I have observed story working among my people over my lifetime—in my listening to and reading First Nations authors and Cree storytellers and trying to discern the ethics of story. This description, I reasoned, would further affirm and acknowledge the validity of a Cree intuitive understanding of identity and story and how they work together. It is the story of the Cree and of other First Nations that maintains an understanding of the relationships that define the identity of Cree and other Indigenous people. Theirs is an identity connected to the land, a land that affirms their communal nature, and that takes the Cree conception of the Great Mystery seriously. The Christian story must fit within this context; it must be taken into an Askiwina (Cree World) but must at the same time be able to take in the Cree.

After this exploration of the nature and ethics of story and Indigenous identity, chapter four appropriates aspects of Paul Ricoeur’s thought, bringing it into dialogue with the Cree conception of identity. Ricoeur provides the critical language necessary in order to wrestle with an intuitive understanding of identity being communal and narrative. This work, therefore, is both an appropriation and an extension of Ricoeur's thought, applying his notion of an embodied existence not only to an individual body but also to an identity that exists concerning a specific land or place.

6 Chapter five provides an example of Indigenous identity having positive implications for theology. Here, Indigenous narrative communal identity is brought into dialogue with Pannenberg’s theology of human beings in relationship. Pannenberg is a suitable choice because of his emphasis upon the of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection and its implication for theology.11 The particularity of Jesus coming in the flesh finds greater resonance with the Indigenous understanding of place. “Place” is concrete and specific, as opposed to a more general focus upon the “Christ event” or to Christ taken as a metaphor for hope12 or for ’s ongoing activity in the world.13 It is the Incarnate Jesus that validates the particularity of Nehiyaw identity and Cree land. Also, Pannenberg’s thoughts on the of human beings being in right relationship with God, with others, and with creation are pointing toward the goal of harmony. Specifically, it is Pannenberg’s understanding of group-to-group relationship as part of “identity” that is comparable to the Nehiyaw conception of how the “other” fits within Nehiyaw identity.14 Cree theology, however, extends Pannenberg’s ideas by addressing communal identity, particularly concerning creation. The goal is to demonstrate how, in his quest to describe the desired destiny for Creation, Pannenberg’s theology is aided by Cree understandings and experience. As such it provides a model for an Indigenous theology that first finds its voice and then, in turn, contributes back to the “others’” theological project of harmony; this could prove helpful in moving through a complicated past and pointing toward an Indigenous Christian evangelical identity.

This work is an attempt at a new beginning. It is a starting-place, which may lead to a full, robust evangelical Nehiyaw theology. While I hope to describe a philosophical basis for, and some of the outlines of, such a Cree Christian theology, it is only a beginning. Others will follow who will go beyond this work. This beginning builds upon those who have come before and hopes to shape something for those who will come after. I write for my elders and my Grandchildren, and so I write.

11 Wolfhart Pannenberg, Jesus—God and Man, 2nd ed., trans. Lewis L. Wilkins and Duana A. Priebe (: Westminster Press, 1977), 21–30. 12 See, for example, Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, trans. James W. Leitch (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1993), 139–43. 13 Jurgen Moltmann points out that he is not attempting to focus upon the historicity of Jesus, but upon how the of a Christ is significant for all human beings. This observation is important, but why is it necessary to have the historical reality of Jesus preclude any application for human beings today? See the preface in The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions (London: SCM Press, 1990). 14 Wolfhart Pannenberg, What Is Man? Contemporary in Theological Perspective, trans. Duana A. Priebe (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970), 83–85.

CHAPTER 1

The Issue of Indigenous Identity and Theology

The impetus for this study on identity comes in part from my journey in the academy. While preparing for the pastorate, I became acutely aware of the need for a place or perspective from which to better understand my own identity as a First Nations Cree person studying theology. Although highly proficient in its exploration and statement of truth, my theological identity was immersed in Western thought and culture. I was in the library of Canadian Theological Seminary in Regina, Saskatchewan, reflecting on how my and theology had become primarily rational. Here I experienced an aspect of evangelical theology that Stanley Grenz soundly critiques when he notes that those who view the primarily as a source of make the Bible something that primarily informs the mind.15 Cartesian individualist ways of thinking about self and existence did not seem large enough to encompass all that theology or had to offer for Christian identity in general or Indigenous Christian identity in particular.

The perspective that enlivened my study and my life would come from embracing my own Indigenous identity as the location from which to engage in theological ruminations. In a sense, I came back to embrace whom I was always created to be: a person whose people believe that the Creator has placed them in this land called North America, but also a person who had embraced the way of Jesus Christ and who was attempting to live out this merged identity—that is, to be a Cree Christian. My thinking had shifted and become firmly located in a particular geography, and I was acknowledging myself as a member of a particular people, and that made a difference for my own identity and my theology.

Of course, identity could mean many things depending on the disposition of the reader; it is therefore essential to give a preliminary definition. Hans Frei suggests that identity “is the core of a person toward which else is ordered.”16 This definition, of course, needs to be augmented to avoid a Cartesian , and so Frei elaborates to say that identity is “the specific uniqueness of a person,” including all “his physical and personal states, properties,

15 Stanley J. Grenz, "Nurturing the , Informing the Mind: The Genesis of the Evangelical Scripture ," in Evangelicals & Scripture: , Authority, and , ed. Vincent Bacote (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2004), 23. 16 Hans W. Frei, The Identity of Jesus Christ: The Hermeneutical Basis of Dogmatic Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), 37. 7 8 characteristics and action.”17 Identity, then, has social as well as personal implications. Part of my working is that an Indigenous understanding of identity places unique emphases on different aspects of identity but does not create radically distinct categories. The difference is found in the ordering of these varied aspects and especially in how, through these various aspects, one orders their own identity in response to others. Thus, “identity” refers to the whole of a person; it is “who they are.” This definition will be developed further in this chapter and explored in more detail in chapter two.

Other exist for a theological study of identity from an Indigenous perspective. Theology understands that human identity is inextricably intertwined with the study of God. If one is to understand who they are, they must understand who God is, and versa. As Calvin states at the beginning of his Institutes:

Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the of God and of ourselves. But, while joined by many bonds, which one precedes and brings forth the other is not easy to discern. In the first place, no one can look upon himself without immediately turning his thoughts to the contemplation of God, in whom he ‘lives and moves’ [Acts 17:28]. For, quite clearly, the mighty gifts with which we are endowed are hardly from ourselves; indeed, our very being is but subsistence in the one God. Then by these benefits shed like dew from heaven upon us, we are led as by rivulets to the spring itself. Indeed, our very poverty better discloses the infinitude of benefits reposing in God.18

The renewed interest in the study of humanity and human identity was of importance not only for the Reformers but also for theologians of the twentieth century. Reinhold Niebuhr, for example, observes that defining human beings is a “vexing” problem, for “every affirmation which he [humanity] may make about his stature, , or place in the cosmos becomes involved in contradiction when fully analyzed.”19 Niebuhr goes on to observe that, on the one hand, humanity is good and created in the image of God, but, on the other hand, humanity is capable of atrocities that leave the goodness of humanity in doubt. This paradox necessitates a theological understanding of human identity. This thesis, therefore, contributes to theological anthropology

17 Ibid., 38. 18 John Calvin, "Institutes of the Christian ," in The Library of Christian Classics, ed. John T. McNeill (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 35–36. 19 Reinhold Niebuhr, The Nature and Destiny of Man: Human Nature, vol. 1 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 1.

9 because of its focus on Indigenous identity in contrast to identity as experienced by the West. From this it can be seen that identity has clear and compelling implications for theology.

Historically, North American Indigenous identity has had a complicated interaction with Western Christian religion. On June 24, 1610, Membertou, a Mi’kmaq leader, and 21 members of his extended family were baptized into the in what is now Nova Scotia, Canada. In the opinion of one Native historian, Daniel Paul, that baptism was not a celebration of Christian faith; rather, it was an attempt by Membertou to make with the influx of newcomers to Canada. According to Paul, Membertou’s action was “an effort to form an alliance that would ensure their (Mi’kmaq) survival.”20 Paul thus suggests that Membertou was pressured politically more than spiritually to convert to Christianity. Membertou's baptism exemplifies the complicated nature of attempts to discuss Indigenous Christian identity. Was Membertou a Christian Mi'kmaq, or a Mi'kmaq simply attempting to survive? Here is a to investigate Indigenous Christian identity. Terry LeBlanc, a Mi'kmaq scholar, says,

For the Mi’kmaw people it was inconceivable that the same Creator of all things would act preferentially in to and for some, as over against others. It is quite likely then that Membertou acted as he did toward the invitation of Jesse Fleché, to receive baptism, not as an eager embrace of its symbolism as understood by the French Jesuit but rather as a statement of common cause, now embraced with the French because they served the same Creator. This was less about an interior transformation than about adopting an exterior set of behaviours to ensure that alliances being agreed upon were visibly supported in the changed relationship between the two peoples. In other words, not unlike the giving and receiving of a bride and/or groom between two bands of Mi’kmaw people sealed the relationship with the outward sign of a newly shared couple, baptism and the taking of French baptismal names sealed the relationship and ensured what was spoken between the two peoples would endure.21

If Canadian Indigenous identity has been complicated overall, how much more is this true of Canadian Indigenous Christian identity. It is imperative to understand the complicated nature of Indigenous identity within Canada, and, consequently, the even more complicated nature of Indigenous Christian identity. In discussing the level of complexity that this might entail, James Treat enquires,

20 The Canadian Press, “400th anniversary of Mi'kmaq chief's conversion to Christianity stirs debate,” Truro Daily News, June 23, 2010. 21 Terry LeBlanc, “Mi'kmaq and French/Jesuit Understandings of the Spiritual and : Implications for Faith” (Ph.D. dissertation, Asbury Theological Seminary, 2012), 119–20.

10 What does it mean to be Native? What does it mean to be Christian? Should Christian identity be subordinated to Native identity, or vice versa? Is it possible to be both Native and Christian in a meaningful way?22

Treat’s enquiry is rooted in a history of identity-exclusion by the church. Lakota Sioux physician Dr. Charles Eastman reflects on this very same issue of complex identity when he notes that,

The first , good men imbued with the narrowness of their age, branded us as pagans and devil-worshipers, and demanded of us that we abjure our false before bowing the knee at their sacred altar. They even told us that we were eternally lost, unless we adopted a tangible and professed a particular form of their hydra-headed faith.23

For better or worse, one of the primary players in the formation of identity among Indigenous people in Canada has been the Western Church. The Church was motivated by economic and political forces, most certainly, but it also advocated for a particular version of Christian theology that proved oppressive for . It is crucial, then, to explore both how Indigenous identity has survived and what sort of contribution it can make to Christian theology in our time.

Indigenous Christian Identity: The Context

In 1996, the federal government of Canada published a four-thousand-page document that contained the findings of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People (RCAP). The mandate of this commission, given it in 1991, was as follows:

Investigate the of the relationship among aboriginal people (Indian, Inuit and Métis), the Canadian government, and Canadian society as a whole. It should propose specific solutions, rooted in domestic and international experience, to the problems which have plagued those relationships, and which confront aboriginal people today. The Commission should examine all issues which it deems to be relevant to any or all of the aboriginal peoples of Canada...24

The report highlighted the that Canada’s Indigenous people have been “plagued” by problems in their relationships with non-native Canadians and even with the nation known as Canada. The commission’s work attempted to offer solutions to problems with historical roots

22 James Treat, Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada (New York: Routledge, 1996), 2. 23 Charles Eastman, The Soul of the Indian: An Interpretation (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 1980 [1911]), x–xii. 24 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” ed. Government of Canada (Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services Canada, 1996), 2.

11 that continue to the present day. One problem highlighted in the report concerns Indigenous identity in Canada:

Aboriginal people face an enormous struggle to maintain culture and identity in urban settings—let alone pass them on to their children. City life, with its myriad and lifestyles, does not necessarily validate theirs. Episodes of racism lead many to question their identity and self-worth. Some told us they fear losing themselves, or they feel torn between worlds. Others repudiate their identity by denying their aboriginality or falling into self-destructive behaviour.25

Indeed, it is the struggle to maintain Indigenous identity in Canada that provides further impetus for this thesis.

The evolution of the relationship between Indigenous people and the rest of Canadian society is concomitant with the evolution of the relationship between Indigenous people and Christianity. This may be stating the obvious, but Christianity was introduced into Canada by European nations, those who came as the first colonials. This might not have been a cause for concern, except that these European nations that were intent on evangelizing and converting the First Peoples of Canada were also intent on colonizing the North American continent. The motive for Christian ministry was therefore neither pure nor purely received, since this colonial intention was to be realized in the displacement or eradication of the Indigenous peoples who occupied the land.

As an evangelical, I would say that the desire to convert Indigenous people to Christianity was good, but, on the other hand, the desire to make them Christian in order to remove them from the land demonstrated confusion of purpose. Even the European colonials were confused about this, as is shown in Sir John A. MacDonald's notation in the Canadian House of Commons in 1883: “Secular is a good thing among white men, but among Indians, the first object is to make them better men and applying proper moral restraints.”26 This is, in part, why the relationship between Native North Americans and Christianity was and remains complicated.

Several other examples of the complicated nature of the relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples in North America are highlighted in the collection of essays Native and Christian. The variety of authors represented in the collection, most of whom are Native North

25 Canada, “Highlights from the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Affairs: Perspectives and ,” ed. Indian and Northern Affairs Canada (Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services Canada, 2004), 12. 26 Canada, House of Commons Debates, 9 May 1883, 1107.

12 Americans, explore what it means to be both Native and Christian. The editor of the book, James Treat, suggests that the authors have four assumptions in common about Native identity and Christian identity, each of which illustrates the complicated nature of Indigenous Christian identity within North America. First, “they take seriously both native heritage and Christian heritage and their relationship to both.” Second, “they their own spiritual and experiences and those of the extended community.” Third, “they acknowledge that native Christian identity is a problem historically and culturally.” Finally, “they see the need to work through the problem in order to help both personal and communal survival.”27

Treat does not offer an all-encompassing answer to the questions raised. Instead, each essay focuses on aspects of Indigenous and Christian identity that each contributor deems most important. Overall, the desired end of these essays is to ensure the survival of a Native North American identity in dialogue with Christian identity. For Treat, Native North American communal identity is important, and it has a place in Christian theology, although that place has not always been ensured. Beyond what Treat affirms, I advocate for a specific Native North American Christian identity rooted in the uniquenesses contained in Native concepts of identity.

Indigenous identity in Canada has found itself at the heart of the British Crown’s ongoing attempt to settle the new land. Until recently, however, the focus was on the protection, civilization, and assimilation of the Indian nations into the new nation-state of Canada.28 The British Crown began to protect Indigenous identity beginning with the Royal Proclamation of 1763, which stated, in part, that land could only be ceded or purchased from the Indian nations by a representative of the Crown. Private citizens could not purchase land from Indians. This mandate was ostensibly to ensure that Native people did not lose their territory unfairly.

However, this protection took a variety of forms, particularly because in colonial times European people saw themselves as superior to the Indigenous peoples of Canada. As early as the beginning of the seventeenth century, missionaries had made astounding assertions in their reflections about the need to civilize the Indians. For example, Chrestien Le Clercq, Recollect to the Mi’kmaq in the first half of the seventeenth century, said,

27 James Treat, Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada (New York: Routledge, 1996), 2–7. 28 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 263.

13 To civilize them [the Indians] it was necessary first that the French should mingle with them and habituating them among us to make the Indians sedentary, without which nothing can be done for the salvation of these heathens.29

Curiously, the British and French settlers viewed Indigenous people as needing protection and determined that the best way to protect them was to civilize them. In the 1800s, non-Indian officials saw it as part of their to aid Indians in acquiring the cultural ways of the Western world. In fact, many Indian people “requested or consented to official assistance in acquiring tools to adapt to the growing presence of non-Indian settlements around them. Mission schools, training facilities for farming and trades, and instruction in Christianity were the hallmarks of this stage of the relationship.”30 However, it was a short step from encouraging “civilization” to attempting forced assimilation on Native people.

It is this last point—forced assimilation—that is especially significant. The assimilation efforts of the government, which formally began with the 1857 Gradual Civilization Act, aimed at removing all legal distinction between Indians and non-Indians, thereby absorbing Indians into colonial society. Assimilation continued as a priority with the implementation of the Indian Act in 1874, consolidated in 1879. The Act documented the that Indian cultures were inferior to settler society, and that it was necessary “to aid the Red man in lifting himself out of his condition of tutelage and dependence, and that [it] is clearly our wisdom and our duty . . . to prepare him for higher civilization.”31 In effect, these policies were intended to eradicate Indian national identity.

Soon enough, the language would change from talk of “colonization” aimed at “killing the savage” and saving the Indian person to talk of “equality and citizenship.” Yet, assimilation policies continued until 1969 when, at last, the Canadian government seemed to open itself to the possibility of nation-to-nation relationships with the First Peoples. Negotiations for that recognition continue to this day. Through all of this, one thing has been certain: Indigenous identity has continued to be both distinct within and yet integral to Canadian society.32

29 Chrestien Le Clercq and John Gilmary Shea, First Establishment of the Faith in New France (New York: J.G. Shea, 1881), microform, 5 microfiches (208 fr.): ill., map, ports. 111.

30 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 264. 31 Department of the Interior, “Annual Report for the Year Ended 30th June 1876,” ed. Department of the Interior, sessional papers (Parliament, 1877), xiv. Quoted in “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 277. 32 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back," 255–332.

14 It is within this period of forced assimilation that the devastating national policy of residential schooling was implemented. Residential schools added to the difficulty of finding an authentic Indigenous Christian identity and theology because, as was true with all other aspects of Canadian society, Indigenous people were expected to assimilate into the distinctly European forms of Christian religion within their walls. Historian Arthur Ray writes, “The most draconian assimilation schemes the government imposed on Native people involved the use of schools . . largely as a result of the lobbying of church groups.”33

Residential schools were one half of an intensified assimilation approach launched against Indigenous people in Canada in the late nineteenth century. It was a concerted effort of cultural genocide “aimed at destroying the viability of Native societies.”34 As they constituted the residential schools, the policies that were implemented outlawed vital cultural of Indigenous people. Missionaries and churches played a significant part in the development and implementation of these policies. Ray explains that “most missionaries not only lobbied the Parliament to pass the legislation needed to implement policies of assimilation but also helped to administer and monitor the programs. In the economic sphere, officials sought . . . to undermine the communal orientation of Native .”35

Two key reports formed the cornerstone of governmental policy on residential schools. Edgerton Ryerson, whom Ray calls “the strong-willed and arrogant Methodist minister who was superintendent of education,”36 drafted the first report in 1847. According to Ryerson, Indian education should consist of weaning Indians from their ancestral habits and making them fit for manual labour and civilization. This sentiment was echoed in the second report, the Flood Davin Report, which also supported the institution of residential schools for Indigenous children.37

The residential school system (whose equivalent in the United States was called the industrial school system) was implemented in Canada in 1879.38 It was in that year that the government of Sir John A. Macdonald, Prime Minister of Canada, was presented with the report of Nicholas

33Arthur J. Ray, I Have Lived Here Since the World Began: An Illustrated History of Canada’s Native People (Toronto: Lester Publishing Limited & Key Porter Books, 1996), 235. 34 Ibid., 222. 35 Ibid. 36 Ibid., 238. 37 Flood Davin, “Report on Industrial Schools for Indians and Half-Breeds, 1879,” in Reconciling Canada: Critical Perspectives on the Culture of Redress (Toronto: University of Toronto, 1879). 38 The Anglican Church had instituted one in the Province of Canada in 1820, and this was followed by implementation “Canada”-wide in 1840.

15 Flood Davin. The report, a study of the industrial schools in the United States, was undertaken to determine if this model of training could be used in Canada among Indigenous people. These schools would be established outside of Indigenous communities and reserves39 and “would teach arts, crafts, and industrial skills of a modern economy. Children, he advised, would be removed from their homes.”40 These schools would be like a surrogate mother to Indigenous children; they “would fit them for life in a modernizing Canada.”41

The pressure to educate Indigenous children came from the Catholic and Protestant churches, including the Methodists, which saw the necessity of fulfilling the newly signed Western42 treaties between the Federal government and the Indigenous Peoples.43 The inclusion of the Methodists in this effort is significant, since they were a conservative evangelical group that played a significant role in forming the identity of Canadian society from the 1820s to the 1870s, particularly in Anglophone Canada.44 The church wanted to ensure that Canada was a nation that reflected Christian ideals and . These ideals and morals could be found not only in Western evangelical Methodist religion but in Catholic religion as well. The RCAP notes:

Cardinal among these was moral training, as a memorandum from the Catholic principals explained, “all true civilization must be based on moral .” Christianity was to supplant children’s Indigenous spirituality, which was nothing more than ‘pagan superstition;’ that would not suffice; to make them practice the virtues of our civilization and avoid the attendant .45

These Western Christian ideals and morals were part of the driving force in the industrial and then residential school system that was implemented in Canada, a system that has left an ambivalent attitude toward the Christian religion among Indigenous people. Significantly, this ambivalence toward Christianity is directed not only toward the Catholic Church but toward Protestant churches as well, both mainline and evangelical, with little, if any, distinction made between or among them. The Western Christian church did not offer freedom for Indigenous people from the residential school fiasco in Canada, for it was its co-perpetrator. The result is the

39 In Canada, tracks of land that Indigenous nations occupied were called “reserves,” while in the United States the term for these areas was “reservation.” 40 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 333. 41 Ibid., 334. 42 The Western treaties refer to several treaties signed between the Dominion of Canada and Aboriginal people west of the Canadian Great Lakes. 43 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 333. 44 Michael Gauvreau, “The Empire of Evangelicalism: Varieties of Common Sense in Scotland, Canada, and the United States," in Evangelicalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 223. 45 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 340.

16 complicated character of Indigenous Christian identity—and, indeed, the attack by the residential school system on the core of that identity: Indigenous distinctiveness. Yet, it is not just the Church’s role in the residential school system that has impacted Indigenous Christian identity; there are other issues in which the Church is deeply implicated that have had an effect as well.

However abusive the residential school system was toward Indigenous people, Indigenous identity did survive, and the residential school system eventually ceased to exist. The last government-run residential school closed in the late 1980s, and the last residential school finally closed its doors in 1996. The legacy of the system lives on and sets us in the present context, for although some might argue that these abuses belong only to the distant past, the RCAP observes the opposite:

Tragically, the future that was created is now a lamentable heritage for those children and the generations that came after, for Aboriginal communities and indeed, for all Canadians. The school system’s concerted campaign “to obliterate” those “habits and associations,” Aboriginal language, traditions and beliefs, and its vision of radical re-socialization, were compounded by mismanagement and underfunding, the provision of inferior educational services and the woeful mistreatment, neglect and abuse of the many children— that were known to the department and the churches throughout the history of the school system. . . . with very few exceptions, neither senior departmental officials, nor churchmen nor members of Parliament raised their voices against the assumptions that underlay the system or its abusive character. . . . still casting a deep shadow over the lives of many Aboriginal people and communities and over the possibility of a new relationship between Aboriginal and non-aboriginal Canadians.46

Indigenous Christian Identity: The Thesis

This thesis might be considered part of a growing body of writing that James Treat calls “Native North American Narrative Discourse.”47 This categorization only partially captures this work, however, since my research and writing grow out of the complicated relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples in Canada, whereas liberation theology has been Treat’s major dialogue partner. Treat’s view is that Native North American narrative discourse “has developed in dialogues with theologies of liberation worldwide.”48 This might well be the case in the United States, which is Treat’s context, but the context in Canada is somewhat different. In

46 Ibid., 335–37. 47 Treat, Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada: 15. 48 Ibid.

17 fact, Indigenous scholar Neal McLeod writes, “The excessive use of Marxism by Indigenous scholars . . . distorts the original experience of the participants of historical events.”49

Furthermore, locating the struggle for Indigenous identity solely within liberation theology may seem to hold promise rhetorically, but, as McLeod notes, this does not do to the full struggle for identity among Indigenous people, a struggle that began long before Marx or anyone using Marxist thought was in vogue in North America. It is probably more appropriate in Canada to say that the collapse of modernity has had a more significant emancipatory effect than liberationist foci. As Paul Lakeland notes, our postmodern context provides fresh opportunities for taking Indigenous discourse seriously.50

To be fair, Treat does acknowledge that some of the essays he has collected critique the cultural behind conventional liberation theologies. However, the overthrow of oppressive structures, though it may indeed need to be undertaken, is not the focus in this study. Instead, I am advocating for a legitimate place for Indigenous identity—as predicated in pre-contact social and spiritual realities, albeit not confined to an idealized historical period—to have an impact on Christian theology. Perhaps Randy Woodley, Keetowah Cherokee theologian and educator, captures the locational nature of the conflict concerning theology and faith present in Indigenous peoples better in his reflection that

When speaking of Native American identity, the reality of internal conflict is presupposed, but sometimes it is more difficult for members of the dominant society to recognize where the problems lie. In order to identify the causes of disharmony, it is necessary to juxtapose common Euro-western ideas with commonly held Native American understandings.51

Treat’s proposed new genre is nevertheless useful in that he notes how Native North American narrative discourse is in part apologetic rather than only evangelistic; it seeks to defend the legitimacy of a Native North American religious identity to non-Native people. It does so by writing within an established field of research (Christian theology) while simultaneously writing, at least in part, for a non-native audience, in order to demonstrate the validity and legitimacy of

49 Neal McLeod, "Challenging Eurocentric History," in Expressions in Canadian Native Studies, ed. Ron F. Laliberte (Saskatoon: University Extension Press, 2000), 30. 50 Paul Lakeland, Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragmented Age, Guides to Theological Inquiry (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997), 88–89. 51 Randy Woodley, Shalom and the Community of Creation: An Indigenous Vision, Prophetic Christianity (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 2012), 93.

18 Indigenous identity in relationship with other cultures.52 That is to say that Indigenous identity has implications—and indeed, it can serve as a resource—for Christian theology.

While Treat was attempting to show the validity of Native North American religion alongside Christian religion,53 I am concerned with the legitimacy of a distinctive Indigenous Christian evangelical identity. Like in Treat’s work, narrative is essential to Indigenous theologies. Unlike Treat, however, who suggests that Native narrative Christian theology opposes typical Christian theology, which he describes as doctrinal, rational, and dogmatic, I do not set aside the rational, doctrinal, or dogmatic. However, I do want to suggest implications for dogmatic theology if Indigenous identity is taken seriously. This thesis could serve as an apologetic to an Indigenous audience, since it affirms the validity or possibility of an Indigenous identity that takes academic theology seriously. What is more, it goes beyond merely describing similarities between different religious traditions; it embraces the possibility of an identity that is at once Indigenous and Christian, and even evangelical.

This last caveat is important for at least two reasons. First, many have chosen the route of classic liberal theology as a way of mitigating the effect of Western Christianity on Indigenous culture. For example, Clara Sue Kidwell, Homer Noley, and George Tinker take this perspective in their book A Native American Theology.54 They suggest that the “The Corn Mother,” a figure from Native American mythology, would better serve as a type of Christ than would Jesus.55 In support of their metaphor, they use an interpretive strategy learned from Rudolph Bultmann, whom they suggest offered the possibility that “Christ” could refer to other figures. Add to this their dependence on Friedrich Schleiermacher,56 the father of modern liberal theology, and it is clear from which theological camp this group borrows heavily. My intent is not to cast derision on their scholarship; in fact, I share some of their about Indigenous identity. Rather, I want to underscore that my work is in relation to evangelical theology, albeit a more broadly inclusive one. I hope to show Indigenous peoples something of the viability of an Indigenous

52 Treat, Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada: 12. 53 Ibid., 30. 54 Clara Sue Kidwell, Homer Noley, and George E. Tinker, A Native American Theology (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 2001). 55 Ibid., 75–76. 56 Ibid., 25.

19 identity shaped by Christianity that does not jettison the evangelistic or conversion motives that, as David Bebbington has noted, have been a mainstay of historical evangelical values.57

I am not proposing “another universal theological ,”58 to borrow Treat’s phrase, especially not one for Indigenous peoples. I am certainly not proposing that my work be prescriptive for every original cultural group around the globe. At the same time, I do assume that this work will have broader implications for the ongoing development of Christian theological discourse, both in general and within the Indigenous world. I am also assuming that something is right about Christian theology and that it has had some positive impact in Canada, even if Christian theology has not typically taken Indigenous identity as a serious dialogue partner.

At the same time, I am not attempting to subsume every Indigenous group in North America by giving one version of North American Christian identity that purports to speak for all. As the RCAP points out, “the term aboriginal obscures the distinctiveness of the various groups of First Peoples of Canada—Inuit, Métis, and First Nations. With linguistic differences, for example, there are more than 50 distinct groupings among First Nations alone.”59 If one considers the United States as well as Canada, the number of tribal groups and languages swells significantly. To make this project manageable, therefore, although I will focus broadly on Indigenous peoples in Canada, I will draw examples primarily from the Cree60 of Canada.

Personal interest drives this research into the circumstances of Indigenous people of Canada because at least a portion of Canada is the territory of my mother’s people before 1492. What is more, the Indigenous population of Canada makes up over 4 percent of the general population of the nation.61 This is a significantly higher percentage than we find in the United States where,

57 David W. Bebbington, “Evangelicalism in its Settings: The British and American Movements Since 1940," in Evangelicalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 366. 58 Treat, Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 13. 59 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 11. 60 The name “Cree” is not indigenous but probably comes from the “French Cristenaux (‘like Christians’) to Cris and hence Cree.” See Arok Wolvengrey, "Semantic and Pragmatic Functions in Plains Cree Syntax" ( Center for Language and Communication, 2011); ibid. 61 Statistics Canada, “Aboriginal Identity Population,” Canada Census 2006, http://www12.statcan.ca/census-recensement/2006/dp-pd/hlt/97- 558/pages/page.cfm?Lang=E&Geo=PR&Code=01&Table=1&Data=Count&Sex=1&Age=1&StartRec=1&Sort=2& Display=Page

20 according to the 2000 census, Indigenous peoples made up only 1.53 percent of the population. If one excludes Native Americans from Alaska, the percentage falls to 0.87 percent.62

Cree people are my tribe, and, according to 2006 data, they comprise the largest number of people for whom a First Nations language (one of the five dialects of Cree) was their first language.63 By using examples primarily from the Cree people of Canada, I will be able to provide a sufficiently narrow focus to move beyond generalities concerning Indigenous people that do not exist in any specific Indigenous group. At the same time, because Cree traditional territory extends across most of Canada, from Quebec to British Columbia, it offers an Indigenous perspective that is not formed in isolation from other groups of Indigenous peoples in Canada. Thus, I will be able to take seriously the identity of the Indigenous people of Canada as well as the interaction between Indigenous and Western conceptions of identity to show the implications for Christian theology. I also hope that this study might serve as a resource for my own personal and communal survival as a Cree man within the academy.

I am arguing that an Indigenous sense of identity is narrative and is based on a particular approach to, and understanding of, the role of story. It is simultaneously communal because of a particular understanding of land. The role of story in the formation of Indigenous identity means that the role of narrative in developing an Indigenous Christian theology is elevated within the theological method, compared to the approach taken by its historic dialogue partners within the European theological community. And, since land is integral to Indigenous identity, a robust Indigenous Christian theology that focuses on communal identity within place necessarily extends the theological scholarship surrounding embodied identity upon the earth. “Story” and “land” are therefore integral to an Indigenous Christian theology. Narrative communal Indigenous identity thus forms a new starting place for an Indigenous “Cree” theology.

Delineating the Boundaries and Terms

There are numerous issues related to defining identity, and all the more so for identity understood in a communal way. For this thesis, the following terms are of importance, and so a working narrative and definition are provided.

62 Stella U. Ogunwole, "We the People: American Indians and Alaska Natives in the United States," ed. U.S. Census Bureau, U.S. Department of Commerce (United States: U.S. Census Bureau, February 2006). 63 Statistics Canada, "”2006 Census of Population,” ed. Statistics Canada (Ottawa, 2006).

21 The “Gospel Story”

Typically, people think of the gospel story as the narrative contained within the four gospels proper. However, within this approach it is difficult to find a place to include the history of Indigenous people pre-contact within the narrative of God’s work in his creation. Engaging the whole of the canon of scripture as the gospel story, however, more fully incorporates a people whose narrative is not unlike that of Indigenous people, and thereby provides a relational connection for the pre-contact narrative of Indigenous folk. Steve Charleston refers to this as the Old Testament of Native North America.64 When the New Testament portion of the gospel story alone is overlaid on the pre-contact histories of Native North American people, it tends to efface, eclipse, or eradicate those narratives. As a result, they find neither resonance with nor residence within the gospel story.

George Lindbeck thinks of the gospel story as consisting of not only the four gospels but also the Hebrew scriptures, the historic creeds, and the historical development of the context within which those gospels would be situated vis-à-vis the history of the people of God.65 It was this people whom Peter would describe in Acts 15 as a people taken from among the Gentiles who now, together with the Gentiles, find their mutual fulfilment in Jesus through the continuation of the narrative—a narrative that has now become common as it also embraces the trajectory of the Gentiles. It is this same embrace that Paul speaks of in Acts 17 in the Areopagus, as he notes, “In times past God overlooked such ignorance.” In giving value to the whole of scripture and the rule of faith as well as to the four gospels, Lindbeck expands the idea of the gospel story.

When the Bible, the canon of scripture, is read or encountered as a whole by Indigenous people, it reveals the good news or gospel, and forms what Charles Wood calls a “canonical construal.”66 Here, Wood expresses a similar sentiment to Paul Ricoeur's idea of the Bible as God’s narrative in telling God’s story. It is not just any story, but the good news of Yahweh’s triumphant engagement with and within creation.67 By defining the gospel story in this way, I am not

64 Steve Charleston, “The Old Testament of Native America,” in Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, ed. James Treat (New York: Routledge, 1996), 68-80. 65 George A. Lindbeck and James Joseph Buckley, The Church in a Postliberal Age, Radical Traditions (London: SCM, 2002). 66 Charles M. Wood, The Formation of Christian Understanding: An Essay in Theological Hermeneutics (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), 101–2. 67 Ricoeur, “Towards a Hermeneutic of the Idea of Revelation.” Harvard Theological Review, 1970), 16.

22 attempting to eliminate or conflate the various scriptural genres; I am merely emphasizing that, collected together, they form a single narrative.

A Particular Approach to and Understanding of the Role of Story

Indigenous identity relies on story, but it is necessary to define what I mean by “story” or “narrative” so that as to avoid falling under the critique of George Stroup. In his response to Why Narrative: Readings in Narrative Theology, Stroup suggests that “narrative” is so broad a term that there is a need to explain what is meant by it.68 So, I will briefly demonstrate how I am using the terms “story” or “narrative” by describing the primary characteristics of Indigenous story. Neal McLeod notes that,

Through stories and words, we hold the echo of generational experience and the engagement with land and territory. Nehiyawewin, Cree language—perhaps more poetically rendered as “the process of making Cree sound”—grounds us, binds us with other living beings and marks these relationships.69

McLeod goes on to describe the way Cree story functions to develop Indigenous identity by asserting, “Stories inform me of who I am. They explore the various aspects of my existence and form the fabric of my being.”70 Indigenous peoples have long depended on story or narrative in the development, transmission, and persistence of their identity.

For McLeod, who is Cree, it is through Cree story that the individual and community are connected to the “intergenerational, memory.”71 Without memory and story, it is difficult to have identity. Indigenous identity, therefore, relies on Indigenous stories, stories that share unique characteristics. To drive the point home, Métis author Judy Iseke notes, “Indigenous Elders are the educators of children, youth, adults, and communities and storytellers and historians of our communities. Their stories and histories . . . educate communities and sustain our culture.”72

68 George W. Stroup, "Theology of Narrative or Narrative Theology: A response to Why narrative?," Theology Today 47, no. 4 (1991). 69 Neal McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory: From Treaties to Contemporary Times (Saskatoon, SK: Purich Pub., 2007), 7 70 Neal McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory: From Treaties to Contemporary Times (Saskatoon, Sask.: Purich Pub., 2007), 7. 71 Ibid., 9. 72 Judy Iseke and BMJK. Brennus, "Chapter Sixteen: Learning Life Lessons from Indigenous Storytelling with Tom Mccallum," Counterpoints 379 (2011): 245.

23 It is clear, however, that story is crucial to identity-formation for other people as well. Many within the academy acknowledge this point. Sallie McFague, for example, recognizes that we stories because they are a primary means by which people develop their identity.73 Richard Kearney also argues “that narrative provides us with one of our most viable forms of identity— individual and communal.”74 Furthermore, Gabriel Fackre notes that story is what brings coherence to the events of life,75 a point also noted in the writings of Paul Ricoeur.76 In fact, in his trilogy Time and Narrative, Ricoeur identifies memory as a key to understanding how identity is developed.77 Finally, Stephen Crites notes that without memory, experience would have no coherence.78

So, Indigenous story shares certain characteristics with Western stories. Of course, it also contains some unique features. Indigenous stories, for example, do not share the same historical sources of development. Auerbach’s Mimesis, for instance, identifies Homer and the Old Testament as “two styles that have impacted literary representation of reality in European culture.”79 Indigenous story, on the other hand, is based on narrative accounts that did not develop in contact with either Greek thought or the Old Testament prior to European migration to North America. Indigenous narrative accounts are based on what occurred in Indigenous people’s own territories such that identity is therefore concerned with local and locally adopted oral narrative accounts that describe the relationship of their own peoples to their territories and land.

This reality does not mean that Indigenous narrative accounts have not been impacted contemporarily by Christianity or have not been influenced by the canon of scripture. Contact with the canon of scripture has historically been mediated through European, Euro-Canadian, or Euro-American cultural lenses. Earle Waugh provides of this reality in his observation that, when words for a Cree dictionary are being defined, words for religion are almost always

73 Sallie McFague, "Parable, Metaphor, and Theology," Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42, no. 4 (1974): 631–33. 74 Richard Kearney, On Stories, Thinking in Action. (London: Routledge, 2002), 5. 75 Gabriel Fackre, The Doctrine of Revelation: A Narrative Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Wm B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997), 2. 76 Keelan Downton, "Narratives of , Witness, and Reconciliation," Wesley Theological Journal (2010). 77 Paul Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 3 vols., vol. 1 (Chicago, IL; London: University of Chicago Press, 1984). 78 Stephen D. Crites, “Narrative of Experience,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39, no. 3 (1971): 298. 79 Erich Auerbach, Mimesis; The Representation of Reality in Western Literature (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1953), 16.

24 translated with words related to Christianity.80 For example, the Nehiyaw refer to Sunday as ayamihewi-kisikaw, meaning “ day.” This name is clearly a development from interaction with Western Christianity.81 According to Waugh, this illustrates that religion was not a separate category for Indigenous people before the coming of Europeans. Christianity is from its early beginnings tied to Western European conceptions of religion. These Western categories are thus intertwined with Christianity, and it is therefore vital to consider the implications of historical and contemporary Indigenous categories and identity if I am to articulate an authentic Christian Indigenous theology.

The connectedness of Indigenous identity to the land reveals two more characteristics of Indigenous story or narrative. Indigenous story is still primarily an oral tradition largely concerned with place as opposed to time. The locative nature of Indigenous story I will develop shortly. For now, it is essential to note that Indigenous story is still mostly oral and spatial in nature. With some exceptions, notably the Mi’kmaq use of “hieroglyphs” and the Lakota tradition of scribed winter counts,82 Native communities have only recently begun the process of gathering the teachings and stories of the elders into permanent, recorded form. Brian Calliou writes that oral tradition kept by the elders contains a wealth of that can help reorder the understanding of history and thus result in change.83 Recording oral tradition, however, is not always seen as desirable; since Indigenous story is the language of a community, it must be spoken and heard to accomplish the desired end of developing an Indigenous identity that is connected with the land. Both the storyteller and the listener are part of the story.84

There is also an aversion among some Indigenous people to writing definitions concerning spirituality. For example, Stan McKay, former moderator of the United Church of Canada and a Cree from Fisher River reserve in Manitoba, begins an essay by expressing his reluctance to write about Indigenous spirituality because it goes against the tradition of some of the elders.85 This reasoning develops out of an understanding that the story is never complete, never finished,

80 Earle H. Waugh, "Religious Issues in the Alberta Elders' Cree Dictionary," Numen 48, no. 4 (2001): 485. 81 Arok Wolvengrey, Nehiyawewin Itwewina = Cree: Words, Vol. 1, ed. Freda Ahenakew et al. (Regina: Canadian Plains Research Centre, 2001), 255. 82 See Jane Zhang, "Lakota Winter Counts, Pictographic Records, and Record Making and Remaking Histories," Archives and Manuscripts 45, no. No. 1 (2017). 83 Brian Calliou, "Methodology for Recording Oral Histories in the Aboriginal Community," Native Studies Review 15, no. 1 (2004): 76–77. 84 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory: From Treaties to Contemporary Times: 7–8. 85 Stan McKay, “An Aboriginal Christian Perspective on the Integrity of Creation,” in Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, ed. James Treat (New York: Routledge, 1996), 51–55.

25 due to the fact that story is dynamic, not static. Reducing the story to text could, therefore, cut the story short.

Resistance also flows out of a desire to protect the sacredness of the narrative process. This is because putting the story into a textual form has the potential to remove it or cut it free from the community’s more extensive collection of . Sophie McCall points out that there is a danger in writing down a story because the process of writing cuts it free from a larger collection of stories interpreting other stories, and from the whole web of stories that are integral to the performance of a given story.86

Indigenous story is not merely oral dictation; it is also performative. Moreover, its performative nature has several implications. First, the story is meant to accomplish something in the community. The telling of stories serves the role of maintaining relationships within the context of the community. Second, story is itself a communal language because it involves more than the individual; it includes the listener or observer, and it includes the author. Third, Indigenous story may also be an actual performance; dances and songs tell a story. For example, a dispute over a land claim between the Canadian Federal Government and the Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en peoples was the setting in which Indigenous people performed song and dance in the courtroom in British Columbia in 1992–1993 in order to make their claim on the land situate and real.87 Their stories, expressed in song and dance, spoke of their relationship with the land or territory. “They argued that in performing their oral traditions, they were enacting both title to and jurisdiction over land,” writes McCall.88 I refer to this example not to make a case for Indigenous land claims but to point out that when it comes to Indigenous identity and story, as Steve Charleston explains, because it is performative and oral, “it is transmitted through stories, histories, poetry, music, sacraments, , , proverbs, visions and .”89

A Specific Indigenous Understanding of Universe, Land, and Nation Indigenous identity assumes a particular understanding of land. Land, as used among the Cree First Nations, reveals a slightly different use of the word than is used in much of Canada. For

86 Sophie McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across’: Translating Oral Traditions and Aboriginal Land Title,” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 80 (2003): 311. 87 Supreme Court of Canada, “Judgments of the Supreme Court of Canada: Delgamuukw v. British Columbia [1991] 3 S.C.R. 1010,” in Docket: 23799, ed. Supreme Court of Canada (1997). 88 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across’: Translating Oral Traditions and Aboriginal Land Title,” 307. 89 Steve Charleston, “The Old Testament of Native America,” in Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, ed. James Treat (New York: Routledge, 1996), 76.

26 Indigenous people, “land” references much more than a commodity one can own and develop. Land for the Cree and other Indigenous peoples can refer not simply to the place where one stands but also to the entirety of creation. Indigenous people see themselves as part of the land, not merely occupants of it.

An Indigenous also understands land as part of the identity of the people wherein there exists a familial relationship with all of creation. This reality does not mean that the category of “territory” does not exist, but that the Cree do not think of territory as fee simple “property.” For example, the Cree word for “property,” according to the 1938 A Dictionary of the Cree Language, is uske, which can also translate “world.”90 However, a modern Cree dictionary from 2001 lists a slightly different pronunciation of the word for land and lists it not as uske but as askiy; moreover, when it comes to the meaning of the word, it makes no mention of property. Askiy, used in modern Cree, references the whole world.91 The point is that the concept of property that the non-Native translators used in the earlier dictionary may have been included a result of the translators’ categories rather than the categories of the Cree or Indigenous people. “Territory” is a better word, for it carries the idea that Indigenous people see themselves as being placed by the Creator in specific territories and that these relationships must be respected. Emphasizing the relation of Indigenous people to the earth (or creation or land), Muskogee author and pastor Rosemary McCombs Maxey writes,

We are an ancient people whose religious and oral traditions declare that we have lived and evolved in these lands since the beginning of time . . . we find creation stories that point to a time of birth from out of the earth and covenant relationship with a Creator that is unique to this part of the world.92

The relationship between Indigenous people and the land has significance for identity. Indigenous people view their role in relation to the land, in part, as that of “stewards.” This is a common theme among many Indigenous peoples and will be further explored in chapters two and three. Here, however, I will point out that the concept of “steward” for Indigenous people does not entail ownership, dominance, or subduing of the earth, but rather carries the

90 “Land,” in A Dictionary of the Cree Language, ed. Ven. R. Faries (Toronto: Church of England in Canada, 1938). 91 Arok Wolvengrey, “Land,” in Nehiyawewin Itwewina: Cree Words, ed. Freda Ahenakew, et al. (Regina: Canadian Plains Research Centre, 2001). 92 Rosemary McCombs Maxey, “Who Can Sit at the Lord's Table? The Experience of Indigenous Peoples,” in Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, ed. James Treat (New York: Routledge, 1996), 43.

27 connotations of care and respect for the earth. This is an idea that many contemporary Christian theologians are attempting to address as a corrective to the long-held notion of subjugation.

Indigenous people see themselves in a familial relationship with the earth as opposed to seeing themselves as owners of the land or in adversarial relationship to it.93 The earth is our mother or brother or sister, and it should be respected as part of the family. This perspective is due to the Indigenous experience of having the earth provide for the people’s survival. When I was growing up, my father taught me that we should not kill animals for sport, but that we must kill them in order to live. Thus, we must eat what we kill and be respectful, since some other being has given its life in order that we could live. He further said, “If you see an old cow moose with twins, do not shoot her; she always has twins, every year.” This practice shows respect for the land or creation as family, ensuring a continued supply of moose for hunting in the future.

A Specific Sense of Identity

Although Indigenous identity is complex, it is still possible to point out some of its distinctive characteristics. As indicated earlier, “identity” has to do with the whole of a person, who they are. For Indigenous identity, the primary distinction is the communal focus of the person. Relatedness is crucial, especially concerning the ways relationships make up a communal identity and, therefore, the ways those relationships seek to nurture and protect. Of course, the communal nature of Indigenous identity does not set it apart from all other people groups in the world; communal focus is a distinctive, not a peculiar feature.

The communal nature of identity involves at least three kinds of relationship: the right relationship with spiritual beings or powers; the right relationship with and among other human beings, both individual to individual and group to group; and, finally, the right relationship between people and the land. Theologian Howard Snyder, referencing Francis Schaeffer,94 includes a fourth relationship, relationship with self.95 Snyder and Schaeffer identify these areas of relationship from the negative, referring to them as divisions and alienations. The Cree, however, would begin with the relationships defined by the world around them that is united by

93 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American theology, 45. 94 Francis A. Schaeffer, Pollution and the Death of Man; the Christian View of Ecology (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1970), 67. 95 Howard A. Snyder and Joel Scandrett, Salvation Means Creation Healed: The Ecology of and Grace: Overcoming the Divorce Between Earth and Heaven (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2011), 65–67.

28 narrative.96 An analysis of the details related to each area of relatedness will indicate whether there is any distinctiveness in that area. At the outset, though, we need to observe the significance of including the spiritual and the material of creation in the formation and experience of personal identity. A person’s identity is developed not only because of social relationships with other human beings but also flowing out of that person’s spirituality and their actual location on the earth. Land is part of this identity. When one considers the importance of holding all relationships in balance or harmony, the complexity of relationship is amplified. In a sense, then, Indigenous communal identity embraces a kind of pluralism in that it seeks to remain distinct yet in proper relationship with others.

Tim Schouls’ study of Indigenous identity is helpful at this point. He observes that Indigenous identity in Canada could fit under the rubric of a relational pluralism, which

Establishes guidelines for relationships between individuals and communities in terms of criteria that uphold the right of groups to be self-defining concerning one another while also maintaining the capacity for individual self-development with the group.97

While Schouls’ work is aimed at defining in what sense Indigenous self-government could function within Canadian political life and not at the significance of identity for theology, I mention his work to emphasize how the communal aspect of Indigenous identity can be set within contemporary studies; it is not confined to some irretrievable past.98 Schouls’ study highlights two important points: first, that Indigenous people want a distinct identity, at least within the political realm of Canada; and second, that Indigenous identity is dynamic.99

The communal focus of Indigenous identity relies on narrative to maintain the bonds of that identity. This does not mean that there are not other ways to look at how identity is formed or maintained, or that all communal identity everywhere is narrative-based. But, it is clear that the role of narrative is essential for Indigenous people—particularly the Cree about whom this work is speaking.

96 Richard J. Preston, Cree Narrative: Expressing the Personal Meanings of Events, 2nd ed., Carleton Library Series (Montreal; Ithaca: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2002), 25. 97 Timothy A. Schouls, Shifting Boundaries: Aboriginal Identity, Pluralist Theory, and the Politics of Self- Government (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2003), 37. 98 Tzvetan Todorov, Frail : An Essay on Rousseau (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2001). 99 See Schouls, Chapter 2.

29 The narrative approach used by Indigenous people connects individuals to the larger group, including the larger group as understood historically, underscoring both the stable quality of Indigenous identity (grounded in “our story”) and its dynamic quality (“our story” continues). This does not suggest that there is a canon of Indigenous story that needs to be or is being compiled, but rather that narrative or story functions within Indigenous communities to maintain or expand identity. Story forms and is in turn formed by the language of community, but it also shapes ways in which better relationships are sought with the other. Story thus serves as a foundation for relationships and maintains said relationships with the other—both the other person (or persons) and the land.

The Locative Nature of Identity Indigenous people view their location in the land as part of their communal identity. Incoming European people attacked this locative nature of Indigenous identity as backward for a modern industrialized world. Whereas Indigenous people had a communal relationship with the land, and one another in the land, D’Arcy McNickle notes that a focus of governments in North America has been to “individualize” tribal community lands.100 In Canada this was undertaken, so the went, to help Indigenous people assimilate into a growing Canadian society possessed of European roots. However, for Indigenous people, the land was related to being in the community; the land was part of the community. Indigenous identity was therefore so tied to the land that a critical difference between the Euro-Canadian sense of identity and Indigenous identity can be seen by the emphasis Indigenous peoples place on location compared to the emphasis Euro-Canadians place on time.

For Indigenous people, “land and spatiality constitute the basic metaphor for existence and determine much of the community's life.”101 It is expected that to be a part of the community is to gain knowledge of the terrain and space that the community occupies so that the person can live in a good way or in harmony with their surroundings. Many who reflect on Indigenous theology describe this concept of maintaining harmony. Jerry Gill, for example, notes that the two fundamental concepts that underlie nearly every Native [North] American worldview are harmony and balance. It is the responsibility of the entire community to see to it that a proper harmony is maintained among the complex processes by which the world is woven together. The

100 D'Arcy McNickle, Native American Tribalism; Indian Survivals and Renewals (New York: Published for the Institute of Race Relations by Oxford University Press, 1973), xxii. 101 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 46.

30 order and dynamics of reality are continuously renewed through harmonious participation in these patterns and processes. The success of an individual results from the quality of his or her desire and ability to maintain a proper balance on the path of life.102

To repeat, it is not that the concept of time does not exist among Indigenous peoples; it is merely a matter of emphasis. For example, the time for and hunting is tied to seasons and the land rather than to a specific point in “chronos” time. This understanding has obvious implications for theology, particularly God’s engagement with people within creation, in that people are related to the rest of creation.

Land, then, does not merely refer to a described piece of property, but, as we have noted, could be conceived of as a synonym for the world of creation. Each Indigenous people group it has a special relationship with the land, as if the land were part of their familial relationships. Indigenous people believe their relationship with the land entails a role of stewards of the land— they are not meant to dominate or to commodify the earth but rather to live in harmony with and on the earth. This emphasis on land means that Indigenous identity is primarily organized around space rather than time. Finally, Indigenous people’s relationship with the land is maintained by Indigenous story—story that both emerges from and describes the interactions of the created community. Indigenous stories provide proof to the Indigenous people of the connections between the people and the rest of creation.

Evangelicalism Defined Since the term “evangelicalism” refers to people from a broad spectrum of beliefs, practices, geographic locations, and languages, it is notoriously difficult to define with precision, let alone consensus. There are numerous expressions of evangelical faith and practice, and there appears to be an equal number of opinions about what is meant by “evangelicalism.” These opinions vary from shortlists of common characteristics to assertions that evangelicalism defies definition and therefore the category should be abandoned.103 Without exception, those who attempt to characterize “evangelicalism” emphasize the difficulty of forming a definition that will cover the

102 Jerry H. Gill, Native American : An introduction (Amherst, NY: Humanity Books, 2002), 141–42.

103 Donald W. Dayton, “Some Doubts About the Usefulness of the Category ‘Evangelical,’” in Variety of American Evangelicalism (Knoxville, TN: University of Tennessee Press, 1991).

31 entire global scope of evangelical thought. Scholars then proceed to describe how they will use various terms.

As a Cree theologian writing from the Canadian context, I will focus on the influence of evangelicalism within Canada using the broader Canadian definition of “evangelical.” What is more, while in the United Kingdom and the United States evangelicals are differentiated from Pentecostals,104 this is not the case in Canada, so I will conflate the two categories into one since that is the way they are conceived and experienced by the Cree in Canada. Carl Henry stands as an archetype in this conflated definition.105

The Implications of Identity for Theology

Having set out these preliminary definitions, including Indigenous identity, we turn now to the implications that taking Indigenous identity seriously will have for Christian theology. The two primary foci of this thesis are to elevate the role of narrative and to extend the discussion of an embodied identity set in the earth. The former fits well with the growing field of narrative theology, the latter within the contemporary theological movement away from Cartesian dualism toward a holistic theology of land or creation, perhaps even more specifically to a theology of location.106 In part, this is an attempt to add to the growing area of Indigenous theology, which would fall within the realm of academic theology, an area where few Indigenous scholars have ventured. This is not to say that Indigenous scholars are unfamiliar with the academy, but rather that academic theology has not always been familiar with the scholarship of Indigenous people.

Steve Charleston, former Episcopal Bishop of Alaska and a Choctaw First Nations person, writes, “It has become chic to be Indian, again, or, at least, to know an Indian, particularly if that Indian is a medicine person. It is romantic, earthy, ‘creation-centred.”107 Charleston makes this tongue-in-cheek comment to point out the place afforded by many in the theological

104 John. G Stackhouse notes that "Canadian Evangelicalism . . . has contained relatively little of the militant, separatist fervour of , and has been generally more moderate and cooperative. To be sure, Pentecostals are not , and neither are Presbyterians, but all three of those traditions are represented in the ranks of the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada.” John Gordon Stackhouse, “Mainline, Evangelical, Ecumenical: Terms, , and Realities in Canada,” Touchstone 13, no. 1 (1995): 20. 105 Bernie Van De Walle and Chris Hall, historical theologians from Ambrose Seminary and Eastern Seminary, respectively, both observed that Carl Henry was indeed the principal archetype of Canadian evangelicalism—though, to be sure, he was of a more moderate bent than many within the Canadian context. Personal conversation with Bernie Van De Walle and Chris Hall, May 20, 2012. 106 See, for example, the work of Yazzie Burkhart, “What Coyote and Thales Can Teach Us,” in American Indian Thought, ed. Anne Waters (Maldan, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 25–26. 107 Charleston, “The Old Testament of Native America,” 71.

32 conversation for North American Native people. Perhaps there is some value in being “earthy.” It does at least allow one to speak to different audiences. However, the academy, Charleston goes on to say, relegates Indigenous comments on theology to the category of “spirituality.”108

Steve Charleston observes that there is a lack of Native American academic theology. He points out that resources exist in Native North America for doing theology, but there is a lack of academically acknowledged North American Indigenous theological writing. Charleston’s proposed solution is for the academy to take more seriously the “spirituality” of Indigenous people, and to afford their spirituality the same place and rigour as academic theology. Although this may be a valid response, this could be heard as an admission that Indigenous people cannot do academic theology or that theology done academically can say little about spirituality. Within the realm of academic theology, however, there is both room and need for Indigenous Christian academic theology.

There may be various reasons for this current state of affairs. First, there may be a genuine shortage of Indigenous people attempting to write in the of the western university. Margaret Kovach, a Plains Cree person and professor, points out that in Canada before the 1940s if a First Nations person wanted to enter a post-secondary institution, they were enfranchised.109 As a result, they lost their official government status as a First Nations person.110 Kovach notes that “according to the Canadian Department of Indian Affairs, between 1934 and 1976 only 2 Ph.D. degrees and an overall total of 750 higher education degrees were awarded to Status Indians in Canada.”111 It would appear that Indigenous people have had to overcome a history of colonialism, even in educational institutions, to be able to put forward alternative and perspectives. This situation may have been exacerbated in the recent past because many Native North Americans have been hesitant about academics. One Native American writer notes that western academics are not always popular on the reservation, as “‘Indian Academics’ is not seen as necessary or valid back on the ‘Rez.’”112 The citation from Steve Charleston above seems to

108 Ibid. 109 House of Commons Canada, “No Higher Priority: Aboriginal Post-secondary Education in Canada,” ed. Standing Committee on Aboriginal and Northern Development (2007), 3. 110 Margaret Kovach, “Being Indigenous in the Academy: Creating Space for Indigenous Scholars,” in First Nations First Thoughts: The Impact of Indigenous Thought in Canada, ed. Annis May Timpson (Vancouver, BC: University of British Columbia Press, 2009), 52–53. 111 Annis May Timpson, First Nations, First Thoughts: The Impact of Indigenous Thought in Canada (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2009), 52. 112 Vine Jr. Deloria, “Philosophy and the Tribal Peoples,” in American Indian Thought, ed. Anne Waters (Maldan, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 3–12.

33 acknowledge that this is the case. After all, it may be safer to be thought of as a romantic than an academic.

Stan McKay, a Cree person and former moderator of the United Church of Canada, acknowledges that in the past some elders frowned on the act of documenting spiritual insights and teachings in written or textual documents.113 Spiritual wisdom and stories were the realms of orality. Thus, a Cree academic would be likely to find himself or herself in conflict with their identity, both as a Cree person and as an academic. Most Native North American academics feel this tension,114 including the theologian attempting to write an Indigenous Christian theology. Add to this the leftover ambivalence toward Western Christianity, and one can begin to understand the hesitancy toward academic theology.

Second, it may be the case that Indigenous theology is not always seen as equal to Western theology. In addressing a gathering of Indigenous theologians, Tite Tienou suggested four areas of resistance to Indigenous theology in general. They were: “The West's hegemony postulate, the West’s self- as ‘the centre,’ the perception of Indigenous Christian scholars as ‘purveyors of exotic, raw intellectual material,’ and the dialogue of the deaf.”115 All of these leave Indigenous theologies (such as an emerging Cree theology) struggling to be heard.

Under the banner of the “hegemony postulate,” Tienou suggests Western theology claims to be the only legitimate authority to hold court in any theological dialogue. As such, Western theology resists critique because it perceives its own views as truly scientific and objective.116 Thus, the ‘romantic’ views of Indigenous minds may be inspiring, but they are not the source of theology. Their value is limited to bringing forth emotive tales; it is thought to be incapable of evaluating or contributing to serious theology. Perceiving their value as being only “spiritual” precludes the possibility that these emotive stories may, in fact, communicate meaning or insight. Thus, the conversation is limited. In an effort to be scientific with respect to Indigenous contributions to theology, the West may cut off valid avenues of understanding and therefore become, ironically, unscientific.

113 McKay, “An Aboriginal Christian Perspective on the Integrity of Creation.” 114 Timpson, First Nations, First Thoughts: The Impact of Indigenous Thought in Canada, 62. 115 Tite Tienou, “Indigenous Theologizing: From the Margins to the Center” (paper presented at the North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies Missiological Symposium, , CA, 2004), 5–17. 116Ibid., 10.

34 Tienou’s second challenge is the propensity of the West to believe it is the centre of the world. This propensity holds true in its theologies as well. Western theologies resist input not just from Indigenous people, but from other academic fields as well. Andrew Walls, for example, points out that Biblical Studies and Theology have resisted including insights from Mission studies.117 This perspective illustrates a propensity in Western theology to resist any critique of its canons, displaying a preconceived notion that the West has already discovered the centre, the basis of meaning and significance. There is no need to rethink or revise its core premises; it remains only for these to be appropriated.118 If Western mission studies of Indigenous people must overcome resistance from Western theology, is it not also likely that Indigenous theology proper will meet with marginalization?

It is not that Indigenous life or understanding is uninteresting to Western theologians. Quite the contrary; Tienou goes on to observe that Indigenous theologians are, in fact, seen as naïve, exotic, or unrefined.119 This echoes the initial observation from Charleston that the romanticized Indian is good for inspiring spirituality but not for doing theology. Indigenous theology is seen as having raw data to offer, but data that must be refined by Western theology before it can be put to some use. Therefore, terms like Asian theology, Indian theology, and Indigenous theology are initially pejorative because they marginalize and limit dialogue.120

Ultimately, Tienou states, the West is unable or unwilling to hear what Indigenous theologians are saying. Essentially, as noted above, for the Indigenous theologian, it is a dialogue with the deaf.121 The West wants to teach others but is unable (or at least unwilling) to learn from others. Thus, the Indigenous theologian is dismissed either as an interesting but ultimately irrelevant anomaly or as being valuable only if able to sound like a Western theologian. There is a tendency for the West to claim that it produces universal theology, Tienou notes, with the “rest” trying to become equals by “articulating a fundamental theology.”122

This is not to say that Indigenous people have not been considered useful in the university. In his book Custer Died for Your , Vine Deloria notes that “behind each policy and program . . . if

117 Andrew Walls, Studies in the Transmission of Christian Faith (Mary Knoll, NY: Orbis, 1998), 146. 118 Ibid., 146–47. 119 Tienou, “Indigenous Theologizing: From the Margins to the Center.” 120 Ibid. 121 Ibid. 122 Ibid., 14.

35 traced completely back to its origin, stands an anthropologist.”123 Hobbes and Locke found Indigenous or primitive people useful as foils for their writing on civilization. Hobbes, for example, stated that the lives of people still in a primitive state were “brutish and short,” and both Hobbes and Locke believed the Indigenous mind was incapable of forming abstract thought.124 Thus, it was believed that, at best, academics must put the data arising from Indigenous people into a usable form. In the worst-case scenario, Indigenous people served as foils to point out the superiority of Western thought.

Of course, not all scholars today work forward from such assumptions. There are those willing to concede that Indigenous peoples may have or may yet provide an advanced understanding of complex issues, particularly when it comes to identity and identity formation. As an example of this, Alasdair MacIntyre, when commenting on identity and moral reasoning, notes that American Indians, and perhaps all traditional societies, understood this complex identity before any philosophical theorist described it.125 MacIntyre also dismisses the notion that Indigenous people were incapable of abstract or rational thought. He notes that a Polynesian’s view of Europeans in the nineteenth century may have been more rational than the Europeans’ view of themselves.126 He also observes that a nineteenth-century Hawaiian educated in anthropology would have been better able to comment on the then-current status of moral reasoning in the culture of the newcomers.127 MacIntyre acknowledges the potential for a fresh and illuminating perspective being provided by someone from another culture. Indeed, it is precisely this potential that creates the raison d’être of this thesis. There are implications for theology that are derived from an interaction between Indigenous identity and theological thought. This adds to academic theology.

The fact that Indigenous communal identity is maintained through the use of story means that one of the “languages” of the community is narrative. This elevates the importance of a narrative approach to theology beyond what has traditionally been understood by two historic dialogue partners: Indigenous people and Christianity. Moreover, as if on cue, this move toward embracing narrative to gain understanding from the Christian scriptures has received significant

123 Vine Deloria, Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1988), 81. 124 Deloria, “Philosophy and the Tribal Peoples,” 4. 125 Alasdair MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry: Encylopaedia, Genealogy, Tradition (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1990), 198. 126 Ibid., 185. 127 Ibid., 182.

36 scholarly attention. This thesis is in concert with those efforts because, as I have begun to argue, Indigenous identity necessitates an elevation of a narrative approach to scripture.

A brief description of some of this scholarship is helpful at this point. Since this thesis focuses in part on the interplay between Indigenous North Americans and —more specifically Protestant North American evangelicalism in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries—it is important to discuss North American evangelicalism, and, more specifically, Canadian expressions of evangelical theology. This discussion will help to situate my .

The Scope and Shape of Evangelicalism

Although there are examples of evangelicals who have attempted to move back toward scripture as a communal document, the types of evangelicalism encountered by Indigenous people have historically been prone to an approach to scripture that emphasizes personal appropriation of propositional truth. No matter what other definitional aspects are put forward as important for understanding evangelicalism, all forms appear to highly value individual appropriation of right doctrine flowing from the Bible. This link between scripture and orthodoxy has historically pushed some evangelicals toward embracing scripture as primarily the container of correct propositions and cognitive truth.128 Furthermore, the variations of the definition of evangelicalism will also show that a communal narrative approach to scripture has not figured as of primary importance in understanding and appropriating the canon of scripture.129 Carl Henry can be seen, in this way, as the archetype of the conservative evangelical theologian who puts forward a cognitive propositional approach to scripture and theology.

128 I note here the work of Mi’kmaw theologian Terry LeBlanc, whose engagement with Jesuit perspectives of the spiritual suggests that a similar issue existed in Jesuit Catholic Christianity as far back as the early 1600s. He notes, “Their response . . . was to engage in the default modality of comparing Mi’kmaw spirituality to their cognitive and introspective understanding of faith and spiritual practice. Mi’kmaw ways fell distinctly short and were therefore dismissed. It was not that they were not interested in seeing such behaviours, it is simply that for the Jesuits, the locus of the spiritual was first and foremost to be found in the intellectual embrace of biblical truth and personal ‘cognitive introspection.’” Terry LeBlanc, M’kmaq and French/Jesuit Understandings of the Spiritual and Spirituality: Implications for Faith. Ph.D. dissertation, Asbury Theological Seminary, 2012. 129 Although Stanley Grenz mentions the necessity of community and scripture as sources of spiritual sustenance for the believer, Grenz, especially in his later years, remained on the margins of traditional evangelical theology, as evidenced by this relationship with the Evangelical Theological Society. See Ken Walker, “Grenz, Stanley James, 1950–2005,” Christianity Today 49, no. 5 (2005). For Grenz’s comments on community and scripture, see Grenz, “Nurturing the Soul, Informing the Mind.”

37 Contemporary Evangelicalism

George Marsden suggests that it would be possible to describe evangelicalism in broad terms, such as a movement, or narrower terms, as almost as a single denomination. In proposing these two descriptions, Marsden points to a growing sense of cooperation among some of them to the end that they form a more tightly knit group, which for some is a desired future. Marsden writes,

Evangelicalism, then, despite its diversities, is properly spoken of as a single movement in at least two different ways. It is a broader movement somewhat unified by common heritages, influences, problems, and tendencies. It is also a conscious fellowship, coalition, community, family, or feudal system of friends and rivals who have some stronger sense of belonging together. These “evangelicals” constitute something like a denomination, although a most informal one.130

Marsden points out that, historically, although characterized by wide diversity on specifics, denominations share some “common directions.”131 For example, there is the “direction” of “individual” salvation in Christ, leading to lives transformed by the Holy Spirit, and resulting in individuals engaging in mission work. These concepts, embraced by denominations of individuals, are ultimately seen as flowing out of the true faith founded upon the work of God, and that work is considered to be recorded primarily, if not solely, in the canon of scripture.132

David Bebbington describes the evangelicalism that developed out of Britain and which spread to its colonies133 with a quadrilateral of common identifiers: conversionism, , crucicentrism and Biblicism. These four, he asserts, serve to distinguish evangelical individuals and churches from others in the history of the Church.134 Bebbington identifies conversionism as the first principle of evangelicalism, which determines who is in the Church and who is not: You are either converted and inside, or unconverted and outside.135 The call to conversion was the content of the Bible, and the call to conversion came through preaching. Not only would conversion save a person from hell,136 but also conversion was the solution to society’s

130 George M. Marsden, Evangelicalism and Modern America (Grand Rapids, MI.: W.B. Eerdmans, 1984), xvi. 131 Ibid., ix. 132 George M. Marsden, Evangelicalism and Modern America (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1984), x–xii. 133 Bebbington, “Evangelicalism in its Settings: the British and American Movements Since 1940,” 365–88. 134 D. W. Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (London; Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989), 2–3. 135 Ibid. 136 David Brainerd also noted that when preaching to Native Americans in what his now New England, preaching about hell had little impact on Native audiences, while preaching on the love of God seemed to elicit an

38 problems. As increasingly individuals were converted through turning away from their sinful lives and turning to Christ, society’s problems would gradually be eradicated.137 Evangelicals might have differed in opinion around the assurance of salvation, the time of conversion, the role of individual will in conversion, and the place of baptism, but all agreed upon the necessity of individual conversion.138

Bebbington secondly describes evangelicals as activists. Activism meant being involved in ministry, where ministry was defined as preaching and working towards the conversion of others.139 Theological education was often reduced to simply learning how to preach. Of course, there were examples of activism that were aimed at the broader goals of converting society; Wilberforce, as an obvious example, was against . Nonetheless, the need for activity to convert lies at the heart of evangelicalism throughout modernity. This emphasis, at times, divided evangelicals on the need to engage in social action and the need to focus on and mission. In the United States and Canada, Carl Henry and the new evangelicals attempted to emphasize both aspects.

Bebbington's evangelicalism is, thirdly, crucicentric. The cross of Jesus Christ is central to evangelicalism. Evangelicals believed the cross and doctrine of substitutionary atonement distinguished them from , but also from other groups of Christians. Through the cross, God was and is taking an active role in the world. During the 1800s, the cross was emphasized even more than the . Contemporarily, the importance of the substitutionary atonement can be seen in the fact that it inevitably comprises one tenet in modern evangelical statements of faith.140

Finally, according to Bebbington, evangelicalism has a high view of scripture. The Bible is inspired and authoritative. In this view, the perspicuity of the Bible ensures that every true believer can properly interpret the Bible—which of course opened some evangelicals to the

emotive response. See David Brainerd, Jonathan Edwards, and Philip Eugene Howard, The Life and Diary of David Brainerd (Chicago: Moody Press, 1949). 137 Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s: 5–10. 138 Ibid., 8–10. 139 Ibid., 10–12. 140 Consider InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, whose statement of faith dropped the exact words “substitutionary atonement” in 2000, but which still states that Jesus Christ assumed the judgment due sinners by dying in our place—simply a thicker description of the same idea—as the “doctrinal basis” of their ministry. InterVarsity, "Doctrinal Basis," InverVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, http://www.intervarsity.org/about/our/doctrinal-basis.

39 charge of engaging in arbitrary interpretation.141 Evangelicalism, however, is nonetheless committed to the centrality of the Bible and will defend scripture from what it conceives of as more liberal theological attacks by stating that the Bible is inerrant and verbally inspired, and by calling for literal interpretation, forming a confession that defends orthodoxy.

Bebbington’s quadrilateral of conversionism, activism, crucicentrism, and Biblicism, like Marsden’s categories, gives a historical definition of evangelicalism. These descriptions support the observation that even if evangelicalism is not strictly concerned with doctrine, there is a kind of theological confessional, a set of truth statements or concepts that all individual evangelicals must embrace. These in and of themselves were not necessarily wrong, but when used to justify the eradication of Indigenous identity, they become complicit in cultural genocide.

Similarly, Alister McGrath lists six hopeful doctrinal distinctives for evangelicals, though he notes that they are not doctrinal vis-a-vis a set of objective truths. Instead, he notes, they are to characterize the life of evangelicals as they work to spread the good news of the gospel.142 McGrath presents a hopeful picture of evangelicals; hopeful because, in his conception, the movement is away from Americanized evangelical traditions and toward a more global shape to evangelicalism. McGrath acknowledges that there is a dark side to evangelicalism that includes dogmatism, personality , and a preoccupation with guilt.143 It is unclear, but he may believe these can be overcome through this shift toward a more global influence. If true, this would situate the present work within the global shift in evangelicalism—a shift that is attempting to overcome some of the negative sides of evangelicalism that has recently focused upon doctrine, thereby reducing the gospel or good news to a set of objective or propositional truths.

McGrath is hopeful that Evangelicals are shifting toward a communal faith. Evangelicals still posit the absolute necessity of individual conversion and engaging in individual and corporate evangelism for the growth of the Church. He believes that evangelicals understand the importance of a Christian community for spiritual growth.144 On this latter point, however, it is not entirely certain whether McGrath is suggesting that it is a priority for evangelicals, or that it needs to be a priority. McGrath suggests that any focus on community is in part due to the work

141 Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s, 13. 142 Alister E. McGrath, Evangelicalism & the Future of Christianity (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1995), 55. 143 Ibid., 143–50. 144Ibid., 55–76.

40 of Carl Henry, who strove to develop cross-denominational links and focused on the need to work together.145 In part, it is this emphasis on the communal nature of evangelicalism that I believe gives McGrath hope; evangelicalism is shifting to a global movement and overcoming some of its more undesirable traits. It is this shift in emphasis toward community that will be enhanced by a dialogue with Indigenous identity, an identity that is both communal and narrative.

“Kinds” of Evangelical

Timothy Larsen defines global evangelicalism by its distinctive doctrine and Christian practice:

An evangelical is: 1. an orthodox Protestant 2. who stands in the tradition of the global Christian networks arising from the eighteenth-century movements associated with John Wesley and George Whitefield; 3. who has preeminent place for the Bible in her or his Christian life as the divinely inspired, final authority in matters of faith and practice; 4. who stresses reconciliation with God through the atoning work of Jesus Christ on the cross; 5. and who stresses the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of an individual to bring about conversion and an ongoing life of fellowship with God and service to God and others, including the duty of all believers to participate in the task of proclaiming the gospel to all people.146

It is not certain if he would go as far as to say that all Christians must be evangelical, but he does say that all individual evangelicals must affirm his essentials or they are no longer considered evangelical.147 Globally, evangelicalism has a variety of expressions, but all have been impacted by Western theology, and while these show an attempt to move beyond the gospel reduced to the autonomous individual and their embracing of truth as propositions, the evangelical focus on correct doctrine has not been entirely eclipsed by any new trends.

British and European Evangelicalism Stephan Holmes suggests that in Europe and Britain there is no longer any clear theological definition that would set evangelicals apart from any other group of Christians.148 Evangelicals in Britain and Europe still believe the Bible to be authoritative and trustworthy. They do not have a

145 This is a curious juxtaposition, since Henry's focus upon propositional content of the gospel added to the ‘dark side’ or dogmatism of evangelicalism and its expression in an individualistic appropriation of faith. 146 Timothy Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism,” in Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 3. 147 Ibid., 7. 148 Stephen R. Holmes, “British (and European) Evangelical Theologies,” in Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).

41 doctrine of scripture that everyone would subscribe to, except to say that scripture has deep “personal” meaning. European evangelicals believe the cross is central, that it has something to do with conversion and salvation. Some, however, observes Holmes, are no longer enamoured with penal substitutionary atonement. Evangelicals like Steve Chalke view this type of atonement as a kind of cosmic child abuse.149 Still, while not all people agree, there are British evangelicals such as John Stott150 and J.I. Packer who affirmed the centrality of substitutionary atonement for evangelicals. Popular evangelicalism in Europe may have turned away from a strictly doctrinally defined movement, but its focus on remains.

Canadian Evangelicalism Canadian evangelicals were more open to pluralism than their American counterparts because Canadian evangelicals were part of a broader , and as such were more open to cooperation with evangelicals from differing traditions, and even with some mainline groups. The Canadian Evangelical Fellowship of Canada, for example, did not require its member churches or individuals to disassociate from mainline denominations. Canadian evangelicals were prominent in social reform and were actively involved in the federal government. Canadians had greater in the state and were more likely to value a paternalistic, communitarian , since it appeared to be solving many social problems such as health care and poverty. The Church and government, therefore, shared much of the language that provided individual freedom while emphasizing the social contract between people.151

Noteworthy among these evangelicals was Egerton Ryerson. A member of the Methodist Church, Ryerson believed “virtue and stability would be achieved in Upper Canada through the constant cultivation of the inner discipline of the individual and that the evangelical conquest of the private realm would reshape the institutional machinery of the state.”152 The problem for First Nations people in Canada was that at the urging of Egerton Ryerson, this same machinery implemented the systematic cultural genocide through the Canadian residential school system from the late 1800s until the late twentieth century. Evangelicalism may have been popular in early Canadian history, but not among the First Nations.

149 Ibid., 254. 150 Stott has passed on since the original writing of this chapter. 151 Gauvreau, “The Empire of Evangelicalism: Varieties of Common Sense in Scotland, Canada, and the United States,” 223. 152 Ibid., 233.

42 Stackhouse points out that Canadian evangelicalism, while remaining “sectish,” was open to cooperation among different organizations and denominations. Several evangelical para-church institutions were cooperative efforts of several denominations. Trans-denominational cooperation did not threaten denominational uniqueness, which remained active in Canada.153 Doctrinal orthodoxy, personal piety, and evangelism continue to be essential for contemporary Canadian evangelicals. Their statements of faith, particularly on the final authority of the Bible, also indicate that evangelicals are mindful of Roman Catholic tradition though firmly Protestant. This continued emphasis on doctrinal orthodoxy is the kind of evangelical theology with which Indigenous people have had to contend.

Canadian evangelicals, like most other evangelicals, were significantly influenced by American evangelicalism, particularly after World War II. Although American-style fundamentalism was not as influential in Canada as it was in the United States,154 it nonetheless had a significant impact. Today, post-fundamentalism continues to influence the theology and practice of the Canadian evangelical churches as well as those who engage in cross-cultural mission to First Peoples of Canada.155

Evangelicals and Orthodoxy

Evangelicals, according to Stanley Grenz, are concerned with protecting orthodoxy and “see themselves as the true guardians of the common Christian heritage.”156 They also see their theology as derived from the Bible. Given our discussion thus far, I suggest that this is likely to make at least some contemporary evangelicals prone to placing their theological propositions on par with the Bible. It is just a short journey from there to having propositions derived from scripture as the sum of the Bible. This, of course, does not describe all evangelicals. However, I would suggest that in North America popular theology is concerned primarily with maintaining the basics of the faith, basics that function as a set of propositions. Grenz acknowledges as much when he suggests Wayne Grudem and Millard Erickson as contemporary theologians who view

153 Stackhouse, Canadian Evangelicalism in the Twentieth Century: An Introduction to its Character, 188. 154 Ibid., 10. 155 In a conversation with Mi'kmaq theologian and minister Terry LeBlanc on this subject, it was suggested that in his experience of Native ministry in Canada over a period of thirty-seven years, the clear majority of those engaged in Native ministry within Canada’s mission agencies were from U.S. evangelical denominations and church groups, and many of them from a more fundamentalist stance. Personal conversation with Terry LeBlanc, March 29, 2013. 156 Grenz, “Nurturing the Soul, Informing the Mind,” 22.

43 the Bible primarily as the source of correct doctrine, and thus their approach to the Bible is primarily cognitive.157

There are others, Grenz goes on to say, who view the Bible as a source of spiritual sustenance. However, whether these others are pushing toward propositionalism or away from the cognitive propositional model, they still deal with the propensity toward dogmatism and a reductionist view of the Bible that sees it pruned back to a book of propositional truth-statements alone. In Grenz’s view, Carl Henry was principal among these, and led evangelicals to view the Bible as the source for religious instruction.158 It is therefore appropriate to use Carl Henry as a model of the kind of evangelicalism faced by Indigenous people.

Grenz himself proposed that the Bible is valuable for doctrine but also for spiritual substance, nurturing the mind and the soul.159 His untimely death meant that he could not complete his project, but others in the evangelical circle were attempting to shift the evangelical approach to scripture so that it was not individualistic. Grenz, for his part, tried to model the necessary shift about scripture by locating the section on the doctrine of scripture at a later point in his systematic theology,160 and placing his discussion of the Bible in the context of the Church.161 This gives evidence that Grenz and others were, and are, uncomfortable with seeing scripture used principally for doctrine.

Western evangelicalism appropriately places scripture as foundational for its theology and its institutions. There is always a danger, however, that evangelical traditions concerning scripture could become so doctrinally focused that they miss what is happening among Christians in other contexts in the world.162 This is, in part, what I have been proposing in this thesis. Daniel Treier, for example, comments that even though evangelicals are attempting to clarify the hermeneutical issues related to the Bible, their own culture, and other cultures, their solutions have had limited

157 Ibid., 23. 158 Ibid., 36. 159 Ibid., 39–41. 160 I am not sure if locating the doctrine of scripture in the section of his theology dealing with the Church achieved any momentum in the theological community. Theology departments continue to talk about revelation near the beginning of theology courses. 161 Daniel J. Treier, “Scripture and Hermeneutics,” in Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 32. 162 Ibid., 45.

44 value for non-Western evangelicals because Western evangelicals gravitate toward social conservatism,163 a not always evident in other contexts.

A Principal Propositonalist A cursory reading of the writings of Carl Henry, long-time spokesman for the evangelical movement, underscores that the goal of modern fundamentalist (or perhaps better called “conservative”) evangelicals has been to reduce the gospel to proposition, thereby guarding the truth of the gospel. This truth would keep others from mistaken interpretation, ensuring and protecting an orthodox Christian community. For example, in a series of lectures, Henry states that conservative evangelical Christians, who affirm the historicity of the accounts of the biblical narrative, must continue to press or put forward the Christian worldview; they must press it upon the masses.164

Indigenous people in Canada and the United States were a significant target of this evangelical desire to preserve the fundamentalist or conservative evangelical worldview. As a polemic against enculturation written by First Nations and non-First Nations Christians in the early 2000s notes,

To fully debate this issue, the precepts must be considered in the complete scope of Biblical theology. Our adherence to the Bible as our only rule of faith and practice requires we examined this teaching in the light of biblical doctrine. Our methods used in must always conform to the guidelines of scripture. Christ taught that the true worshipers would worship the Father in spirit and in truth (John 4:23). Though worship has a cultural aspect, it is primarily a theological matter. The Native evangelical Church must understand the importance of evaluating every aspect of our practices in light of the revealed word of God.

As we have reviewed the relevant material that provide the foundation and framework the basis of our report. Those concepts are Christology; redemption; holiness; the Church; demonology (power encounter); of special revelation and general revelation; and hermeneutics [sic].165

163 Ibid., 44. 164 Carl Ferdinand Howard Henry, The Uneasy of Modern Fundamentalism (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1947), 45. 165 Craig Smith, Boundary Lines: The Issue of Christ, Indigenous Worship, and Native American Culture, (The Official Guidelines of the Official Workers and Member Congregations of the Native American District of the Christian and Missionary Alliance (U.S.) Report of the Native Theological Task Force, 2000.

45 As is evident in the above, any approach to theology, other than one adopted by the conservative evangelical position, would be deemed suspicious.

Henry’s exposition and use of the Ten Commandments provide an example of how this reduction takes place. Henry writes, "The universe is put together along moral lines” and “the Ten Commandments disclose the only sure foundation for a society without the seeds of dissolution,” and as such all cultures must follow these Ten Commandments.166 Henry betrays a desire to reduce the universe to a modern conception of morality. In stating, that the universe is put together along moral lines, Henry fails to acknowledge the limitations of morality. Who defines morality and who enforces this morality? Henry wanted to affirm the importance of morality, but does he do it at the expense of the narrative in which the Ten Commandments are set? After all, the Ten Commandments alone did not lead to a relationship between Yahweh and the Israelites. Only after a relationship is established is the covenantal relationship further defined by these commandments.

Here we uncover a persistent reductionism in the work of Carl Henry, the same reductionism one regularly finds throughout the conservative evangelical camp. This lecture of Henry's was attempting to motivate Christians to stand against evil—fair enough. However, in the process Henry reduced the gospel story to morality and thus perpetuated a loss of the wider story, which would better serve a communal Indigenous perspective.

Henry’s approach is rooted in a belief that the Bible is a reservoir of objective truth.167 Wanting to secure or protect this truth from the corruption of human opinion, he, like many other evangelicals, believed that he could work back toward an original autograph that was verbally inspired. However, this classic evangelical approach to secure the story ends up destroying the surplus of meaning contained within the story. This view fails to take seriously the interpretive process that occurs in the crafting of any “truth statement.” Henry, like many evangelicals trying to preserve the word of God, ends up putting his conception of objective truth ahead of the gospel story. What is more, as George Lindbeck rightfully critiques in his work The Nature of

166 Henry, 39. 167 Henry, God, Revelation, and Authority, 6 vols. (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1976), 13.

46 Doctrine, cognitivists can state their objective truth, then change their statement later, and have no way to explain how their objective truth has changed.168

Henry, like many conservative evangelicals, was always on the lookout for propositions and biblical . An empirical process that was thought to ensure objectivity discerns these principles. These objective principles were then delivered to other cultures and became a sort of magisterium through which the biblical narrative could be interpreted. The “biblical principles” eclipsed the biblical story. Henry’s work, therefore, provides a rather telling example of the reduction of story to proposition in contemporary conservative evangelicalism. North American Indigenous Christianity has been subjected to considerable influence from this type of theology, as we have noted above. An Indigenous Christian theology rooted in the Indigenous emphasis on narrated identity, therefore, must shake free from this theological methodology. It simply will not work otherwise.

Carl Henry was attempting to react to the issues of his day and yet advocate a view of society that was still primarily conservative.169 He saw that evangelicalism, or should I say fundamentalism, was missing a significant part of the gospel by not being socially active. Not only did it fail to address the social needs of society, but it also held to a clear anti-intellectual attitude.170 However, as important as it was for Henry and the New Evangelicalism to engage in social issues and legitimate Bible scholarship, their view of scripture as being primarily propositional revelation limited their engagement. This lack of engagement was particularly true when it came to working among First Nations people.

Evangelical missions working among the First Nations continued (and continue) to endorse one of the hallmarks of propositional theology—the inerrancy of scripture—as the test for a genuine commitment to scripture. An examination of the statements of faith for two evangelical denominations, the Christian and Missionary Alliance171 and the Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada,172 as well as the statements of faith of the Native Evangelical Fellowship,173 The United

168 George A. Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Post-Liberal Age (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984), 16–17. 169 Dayton, “Whither Evangelicalism,” 158. 170 Timothy George, “Evangelicals and Others,” First Things, no. 160 (2006): 15–23. 171 Christian and Missionary Alliance, “Statement of Beliefs,” 2019, accessed August 26, 2019, https://www.cmacan.org/beliefs/. 172 Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada, “Statement of Faith and Essential Truths,” (Mississauga, ON: Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada, 2014), 1. 173 Native Evangelical Fellowship, “Articles of Faith & Doctrine,” 2010, accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.nefc.ca/Faith_Statement.html>.

47 Indian Mission,174 Send International,175 Native American Partnership,176 Living Hope Native Ministries,177 North American Indigenous Ministries,178 InterAct Ministries, 179 and Northern Canada Evangelical Mission,180 show remarkable similarities. These denominations and para- church organizations could be classified as evangelical, and all include in their respective statements of faith that the scriptures are verbally inspired and inerrant.

The fact that they all have statements of faith that include inerrancy indicates a doctrinal among these groups. One group goes as far as to say that they have a non-charismatic orientation, showing that they are serious about their doctrine.181 From this, it is evident that the individualist, propositional approach to scripture advocated by Carl Henry seems to characterize the work of evangelical churches and organizations working among the First Nations in Canada.

Since Carl Henry is one of the grandfathers of the model that has tended to reduce the Bible primarily to the source of doctrine stated in the form of propositional truth, he is an appropriate focus of my concern. Therefore, Indigenous identity that is communal and narrative, and not based primarily upon individual appropriation of propositional truth statements, has implications for their theology regarding Christianity and identity.

174 UIM International, “Statement of Faith,” 2019, accessed September 3, 2010, https://www.uim.org/page/180020335/180103706/Statement-of-Faith. 175 Send International, “Statement of Faith for Send International,” 2019, accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.send.org/we-believe/. 176 Native American Partnership, “Statement of Faith for Native American Partnership,” 2010, accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.napministries.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=53&Itemid=55. 177 Living Hope Native Ministries, “Statement of Faith,” 2018, accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.livinghopenativeministries.org/index.html. 178 North American Indigenous Ministries, “Statement of Faith,” 2019, accessed Sept 3, 2010, https://www.naim.ca/about/statement-of-faith/. 179 InterAct Ministries, “What We Believe,” 2010, accessed September 3, 2010. 180 Northern Canada Evangelical Mission, “Our Statement of Faith,” 2019, accessed August 14, 2019, http://ncem.ca/about-us/our-statement-of-faith/. 181 Northern Canada Evangelical Mission, “Our Statement of Faith.”

CHAPTER 2

Identity Development: A Communal Frame

There are numerous issues that affect the problem of defining identity simpliciter, never mind identity understood communally. For this chapter and the overall thesis, the following comprise my working definitions.

Indigenous Identity

The Whole Person in familial context is inclusive of extended human family relationships, in addition to land as mother, nurturer, and therefore family. Individuality distinguishes one being from another, emphasizing and highlighting individual qualities, but not at the expense of, or isolated from their contribution to the community as a whole. In this sense, while the individual is not coerced toward a specific behaviour, there is an expectation that their behaviours are not narcissistic or self-centred. Preston makes the point that,

In Cree culture, one must remain free to control himself. This freedom is of paramount importance to Cree individuals and is very proudly held. However, this does not lead to individualistic anarchy; it is the locus of the manner, agency, and sequencing of .182

Western Identity

The autonomous individual as self-defined and self-actualized is predicated, in part, on Descartes’ “I think therefore I am.”183 In the Western context, community is more often expressed as a collection of individuals, whether related or not, that seek a collective existence or outcome. It is often seen in utilitarian terms, and the individual is free to disengage as desired.

Identities in Conversation

There is a tension between identity as individual versus communal- or group-focused. The problem emanates from a Western philosophical conception of identity, which John Macmurray

182 Preston, 79 183 Monroe C. Beardsley, The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche, (New York: Modern Library, 1960), 34. 48 49 calls egocentric.184 This egocentrism is built around the Cartesian notion of existence and identity, which, over time, increasingly becomes a matter of self-definition. Descartes proposes that the foundation for his own autonomous identity is the primacy of mind over body. Descartes asserts that he does not need his own body—or at least doubts its existence—in order to come to true knowledge.185

‘First-person privilege,’ or the idea that one can be certain of one’s own thought process, becomes the priority for Descartes’ efforts to articulate existence.186 Moreover, while Descartes ultimately had to establish the existence of one other person or being to establish this “objective universe,” for him, the other was God.187 According to this premise, the individual and God are enough to establish objectivity and, through it, truth. Priority is thus placed upon the autonomous individual and God.188 One can already discern in such a trajectory that there is a diminishment of the necessity of other humans even in the equations of theology.

So, according to Descartes, while the body is real, it is not a priority for the endeavour of identity definition. What is more, one can cut oneself off from other human beings, thereby downplaying corporate identity. Says Descartes, “My own mental state is contrasted with my uncertainty about all corporeal things.”189 Ricoeur concludes that Descartes is left alone with his subjective self.190 Thus, Descartes was left as a solitary individual alone with his conception of God. Again, John Macmurray notes that from Descartes to Hume, humans are reduced to thinking beings.191

Ostensibly, then, Descartes is the default architect of an identity structured as the self alone. Establishing one’s own existence took one halfway to defining an objective position from which to make true propositions. As Indigenous scholar V.F. Cordova notes, the West’s “foundational

184 Macmurray, The Self as Agent, 31. 185 Rene Descartes, “ 1,” in The European Philosophers From Descartes to Nietzsche, ed. Monroe C. Beardsley (Toronto: Random House, 1960), 25. 186 Ibid., 39. 187 Roger Scruton and Roger Scruton, A Short History of Modern Philosophy: From Descartes to Wittgenstein, 2nd ed. (London; New York: Routledge, 1995), 34. 188 Of course, others who followed would conclude that God is not necessary for identity. Nietzche concludes that self was doubted as well. See his discussion on the Ubermensch in Thus Spoke Zarathustra. 189 Ibid. 190 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 8–10. 191 Macmurray, The Self as Agent, 32.

50 bargaining unit” is the individual who can stand against society’s pressures, whereas an Indigenous conception of the foundational unit is the ‘we.’192

This slow loss of communal identity, and by default the loss of the relational aspects of meaning, continues with an ongoing search for foundational truths able to support this objective non- human world. I say non-human because in a sense Descartes has separated all that is human, except thought, from objectivity. Others will conclude that one does not need God to arrive at this objective foundation, echoing the aspirations of our first ancestors in Genesis 3 to somehow move beyond the confines of human existence and be like the Creator in ways he had not intended. In modern Western thought, one’s mind is sufficient to access an objective, eternal world. For, with proper foundational truths, he or she can offer a divine perspective, which guarantees the validity of his or her observation.

All we can know is the stuff of proper scientific method, which makes plain that modern humanity, in searching for identity, is quickly cut off from others, God, itself, and the world. The relational nature of identity and truth has been hampered because of the propensity in modern Western thought to reduce the world to its manageable parts. There are, however, objects and truths that are greater than the sum of their parts. What is more, in deconstructing some objects, an individual can end up destroying the object without having gained any knowledge of the essence of the object of examination.193 For the West, this is what has happened with its conception of personhood. Either the individual is firmly in view, but at the expense of the group, or, as Colin Gunton observes, the individual is disregarded for the sake of the group.194 The tension between the two is difficult to maintain in Western notions. Indigenous understandings, however, provide a balance that does not give preference to one over the other. Individuality is celebrated within the group even as the identity of the group is simultaneously embedded in that of the individual. Communal identity or focus on the group as a constructor of personal identity, continues to exist.

192 V. F. Cordova, “Ethics: The We and the I,” in American Indian Thought, ed. Anne Waters (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 173, 76. 193 Similarly (as will be discussed briefly later), if one reduces a story to its parts, all one arrives at is a catalogue of the respective parts of the story—a list of words, perhaps words divided into their grammatical parts, but the story is no longer visible, just the parts. 194 Colin E. Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many: God, Creation, and the Culture of Modernity (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 13.

51 It is not my intention here to debate the suitability of Descartes’ arguments or the Western philosophers that followed his lead (although some, Paul Ricoeur in particular, will be engaged here), but merely to put forward the contention that the contemporary Western-influenced world has had a propensity to conceive of identity as located in the autonomous individual. What is more, this emphasis has, at times, led to a commonly held view that has pitted communal identity against that of the autonomous individual. This focus on the autonomous individual does not mean that the social sciences have not considered the effects of the group on the individual; however, its effects are often limited in language to considering the nature of Indigenous communal identity as primarily controlled from an individualist perspective.

Cartesian thought leading to an affirmation of the liberal autonomous individual has played a significant role in aiding the world to establish more equitable societies, providing for improvements in the quality of life. Furthermore, theology has affirmed the individual in her importance to God, upholding her dignity within the Church. My assumption throughout this thesis, however, is that the dominant version of Western Christianity lived and taught for the past 150 years and more in Canada—and in most other modern Western-influenced settings—focused almost exclusively upon the autonomous individual. While there are some legitimate reasons for this move toward a liberal model of identity, even in the church.195 there continues to be a need to balance this focus upon the individual with attention to the social nature of identity.

Our working definition suggested that identity, at least from an Indigenous perspective, does include, and must include, the whole person—the social, communal, as well as singular aspects of being. To some extent, this suggests the sum of all that contributes to creating the individual, and is echoed in an Indigenous truism expressed frequently in my circles: “I am because we are!” The Western-framed counterpoint to this would be, “We are because I am!”

So, while advances in dignity and equity should not be sacrificed for the sake of an institutional model that affirms the group and denigrates the individual, Indigenous conceptions of communal identity can provide room to move toward a group identity without sacrificing the dignity of the

195 While the society at large has driven toward this autonomous model with an understandable passion (it contributes to an economic environment that creates and sustains growth), it is curious that the Church has also embraced and promoted it with a religious fervour, since the Church ostensibly emphasizes that the body is comprised of many parts.

52 individual. What is more, this balance is critical to a more robust understanding of the gospel embedded in communal narrative.

Toward this end, there are a variety of theologians who have sought to emphasize the implications and social settings in which identity and specifically Christian identity is formed, all attempting to point out the communal nature of identity and thereby balance the trend toward focusing entirely upon the autonomous individual.196 I turn now to a brief examination of some of these evangelical writers.

Western Theological Shifts in Understanding Identity

The Christian life is not intended primarily for the personal fulfillment of the individual, although great personal fulfillment is found in living the Christian life. Western Christian praxis has not always made this clear or promoted it as a goal of Christian faith and life. Western individualism often emerges instead. By its very definition, however, the Christian life is to be lived in community, with the individual giving herself away in love for others as both follower and member of the living Christ.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer emphasized such an outlook. Bonhoeffer did not limit his understanding of this communal existence to the ‘cloistered life’ lived only within a Christian community, but rather extended it to apply within society more broadly.197 As his thesis from Sanctorum Communio makes understandable,

The more theologians have considered the significance of the sociological category of theology, the more clearly the social intention of the basic Christian concepts has emerged. Person, primal state, sin, and revelation are fully understandable in relation to society.198

For Bonhoeffer, identity is shaped and defined within the community. Moreover, his voice functioned prophetically in a society were ‘cheap grace’ for individual fulfillment ruled the day. Bonhoeffer emphasized a conception of discipleship that acknowledged that it was only within community that one could become the person they were intended to be, living and being for

196 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, John Zizioulas, Miroslav Volf, Wolfhart Pannenberg, John Macmurray, Alistair McFadyen, Colin Gunton, Stanley Grenz, and James McClendon are some that come to mind. This list, though by no means exhaustive, illustrates a growing interest in moving away from individualistic conceptions of identity. 197 Dietrich Bonhoeffer and John W. Doberstein, Life Together (: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993), 17–18. 198 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sanctorum Communio, trans. Ronald Gregor Smith (New York: Harper & Row, 1963), 13.

53 Christ and others.199 Bonhoeffer’s sociality is an attempt to move away from individualism200 toward an understanding of identity that situates the individual within community.201

Conceptions of Identity

Conceptions of identity rooted in Christianity are not merely situated in human society; they also include the Triune God, who is the model and the author of community. The fact that God is triune and the basis for proper relationship might not seem clear to all Indigenous people; it has some difficulties for theology as well. Kathryn Tanner, for example, points out that the “socio- political” claims of trianitarianism are “inflated”; that the difference between the political implications of “ and trinitarianism” is not always apparent or easy to discern.202 For Indigenous people, however, while the relational nature of the Trinity may not have initial or immediate significance, relationship with spiritual beings is a de facto part of identity. The Cree, for example, would affirm that a person is in constant relationship with spiritual beings, including Kichi-manitow, often translated as the ‘Great Spirit.’203 Anthropologist Richard Preston notes that Cree peoples of Northern Quebec talked about their relationships with attending spirits who were persons in their own right.204 The Cree conception of communal relationship, therefore, includes the relationship to spiritual beings, and that these must be in harmony or balance to live in a genuinely holistic or spiritual way upon the earth. To move

199 Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship (New York: Touchstone, 1995). 200 In this work, a distinction is being made between the everyday use of the words individual, individuality, and individualism. In this context, individual references a singular being; individuality indicates that the singular being expresses uniqueness; and individualism indicates that the singular being is of paramount importance and therefore primary focus. 201 Although my thesis is focused specifically at the theology encountered in a Canadian context, it is worth noting that John Zizioulas of the captures this idea by noting that personhood cannot be separated from communion. The Holy Trinity is the primary category or model of personhood or being. In his words, “God has no ontological content, no true being, apart from communion.” Someone who is cut off from communion with the Holy Trinity is not a free person but only a being. It is only God who can impart personhood, and that happens within the context of communion in the Church. This concept of person is helpful for my thesis because it also emphasizes the importance of community for identity. At this point it is beyond the scope of my thesis to debate whether the distinction between personhood and being is the only way one can conceive of the communal nature of identity, but Zizioulas would affirm that identity is in some way formed within the context of a community that must include not only human beings but God as well. John Zizioulas, Being as Communion: Studies in Personhood and the Church, Contemporary Greek Theologians no. 4 (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1985), 16–19. 202 Kathryn Tanner, Christ the Key, Current Issues in Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 208. 203 Kihci-manitow have come to be the Cree words that are used for the God or Great Spirit. However, not all translators agree that Great Spirit is the best . Other possible include the “great mystery” and the “great other.” The term Mantou can also mean other things besides Great Spirit. It could refer to the way someone feels or goodness that is in some sense related to the universe. See Waugh, “Religious Issues in the Alberta Elders’ Cree Dictionary.” 204 Preston, 78.

54 beyond the individualism of Western-influenced modernity, all spheres of relationship must be developed; this encompasses not only individual to individual relationships, or individual to God, but also individual to group, and group to group.

Pannenberg’s system of relationality conceives of relationship in concentric circles, with each circle representing broader sets of relationships. Pannenberg notes that “Man’s destiny as a creature that is open to the world aims at community with God, and, with that, simultaneously aims at the unity of human existence, at the unity of self and reality.”205 Pannenberg is attempting to move human beings beyond a self-centred, egocentric existence to one that takes seriously the “association of individuals.”206 Pannenberg’s move is an example of a theological attempt to affirm the role of community in the formation of identity.

Indigenous identity focuses not only on an association of individuals but also on the relationship of group to group as being at the center of one’s identity. As an example, Indigenous people in Canada have continually called for a return to the historic treaty relationship because it described the “group-to-group” relationship of newcomers with themselves. A more in-depth of treaty will be given later in the chapter, but for now it is important to note that nation-to- nation or group-to-group relationship is fundamental to Indigenous identity, including within the Church. Evidence for this can be seen in the report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) in Canada. Action item 45.3 from the TRC report states, “Renew or establish Treaty relationships based on principles of mutual recognition, mutual respect, and shared responsibility for maintaining those relationships into the future.”207 This statement alone makes clear that affirmation of Indigenous identity, as a group identity, is fundamental in the development of an Indigenous Theology.

Miroslav Volf, in his book Exclusion and Embrace, emphasizes that one’s self interacts with others in a way that focuses on one’s ultimate identity.208 His quest to describe what kind of individuals we need to be to in order to live in harmony with others outlines the goal of theology

205 Wolfhart Pannenberg, What is Man? Contemporary Anthropology in Theological Perspective (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970), 82. 206 Ibid., 83. 207 Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada., “Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future: Summary of the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada,” ([S.l.]: Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, 2015), http://myaccess.library.utoronto.ca/login?url=http://site.ebrary.com/lib/utoronto/Top?id=11070416. 9. 208 Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace : A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996), 21.

55 and Christian faith: the drawing together of every person while at the same time living in a way that enables current relationships to reflect a desired eschatological reality.209 To this end, the individual must be ready to make peace with others.

Volf still sees value in affirming specific group identity, particularly in relationships between men and women. He acknowledges that it may be necessary to turn inward to strengthen the identity of the group, either of men or women, before turning toward unity between the two. In his words, “turning inward to bolster gender identity210 is sometimes a worthy strategy, but it cannot become the goal. A continual inward focus would locate a certain cultural conception of identity as normative.”211 While Volf sees gender identity as irreducible to something else and perhaps the only measure of fixed identity, I propose that some of his thought can also be extended toward Indigenous identity. That is not to say that Indigenous identity is fixed like gender identity, but it does contain identifiable and consistent particularities that one must negotiate when doing theology. Turning inward to Indigenous identity alone is not my goal, as my discussion of treaty will show; rather, I want to identify possible strengths that can be used for the good of the Indigenous community. I am not advocating that an Indigenous conception of identity be normative for all people groups; instead, I am pointing out that it has certain aspects that, when held together with other conceptions of identity, have fruitful implications for theology.

Identity and Land in the West

While identity in the West oscillated between a conception of identity that emphasized the individual over the group and one that stressed the group over the individual, a third option was to see identity formed by the tension between the two. Alistair McFadyen proposed such a solution. According to McFadyen, the primary models of personal identity are individualist or collectivist, both of which are deficient in their accounting for the dynamics of personal identity.212 Individualist conceptions of identity fail to consider societal influences and—largely because the study of identity has been secular—fail to account for the importance of relationship

209 Miroslav Volf, After Our Likeness : The Church as the Image of the Trinity, Sacra Doctrina (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1998), 282. 210 For example, the case of some of the men’s and women’s movements of the 1990s and early 21st century. 211 Volf, Exclusion and Embrace, 181–82. 212 Alistair I. McFadyen, The Call to Personhood : A Christian Theory of the Individual in Social Relationships (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 5–9.

56 with the triune God. Collectivist conceptions of identity tend to lose the individual for a kind of social that proves overly constrictive to individual freedom and . McFadyen proposes that we consider identity as dialogical and dialectical: dialogical in that human identity is formed through communication with others, and dialectical because identity is formed in contact with others who are different.

Identity, according to McFadyen, is ex-centric, meaning that “persons are oriented upon themselves by moving toward the reality of others.”213 There is no personal identity outside of relationship with community. The primary basis for this model is the relationship of persons within the Trinity. For, just as the persons of the Trinity “receive and maintain” identity within trinitarian relationships, so human beings can receive and maintain identity only in relationship with others.214 The other, then, is always part of personal identity. The primary concern for McFadyen, then, is relationships with other human beings.215 While personal identity is embodied in the social and physical world, he asserts that the social is primary. The focus on the social world does not mean that the physical world is irrelevant, but other than the importance of individuals having the right to private property or space, the focus is not personal identity. Thus, he is attempting to balance identity between social forces and the need to preserve the dignity and freedom of the individual.216

McFadyen is, in part, concerned that theology is not primarily a metaphysical conversation about matters that find no real place in the “concrete” world. In Bound to Sin: Abuse, Holocaust, and the Christian Doctrine of Sin, for example, he attempts to do theology in concrete settings, “discerning the reality of God in its specific situation.”217 The “concrete” world resonates with the necessity of beginning Indigenous theology with identity in context, one that includes the complexities of Canada’s genocide of Indigenous Identity or cultural assimilation.218

McFadyen’s concept of identity is helpful in at least two ways. First, he points out the necessity of conceiving of identity as made up of relationships not only with human beings but also with God. In this way, identity develops through social communication with others. Second, he

213 Ibid., 40. 214 Ibid., 24–36. 215 Ibid., 73–79. 216 Ibid., 230. 217 Alistair I. McFadyen, Bound to Sin : Abuse, Holocaust, and the Christian Doctrine of Sin, Cambridge Studies in Christian Doctrine (Cambridge, U.K. ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 51. 218 The report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada is replete with evidence of and references to this genocidal assimilation. See, for example, Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future, 2015.

57 affirms that even though his primary focus is the identity formation that occurs within social relationships, it also occurs in a physical context. Though he does not elaborate on the latter point beyond the need for negotiated private space, McFadyen believes that the formation of identity could be extended to the political community.219 Since the idea of political community commonly includes space, Indigenous thought would extend McFadyen’s discussion to ensure that this space is not an abstraction of physical reality, but actual land that has been in relationship with people.

While this might seem to use McFadyen’s terms in a somewhat metaphorical way, it clearly connects to the tradition among Indigenous North Americans of seeing land in a familial way, and learning to listen to and read what the land is saying to live in harmony with creation. This idea of seeking harmony flows out of an Indigenous understanding that by being placed upon the land or in relationship with the land the people have a responsibility to maintain right relationships with creation and with all those who enter the land. 220 Thus, for Indigenous people, land is the context within which those who are different interact to form relationships. This interaction is evident in the treaty negotiations, as Indigenous people were attempting to form new identities that included newcomers. Land was the space where this occurred, and it contributed in a significant way to an emerging shared identity. 221

Confessional Approaches to Identity The Christian quest for a proper understanding of identity has, at times, taken a confessional approach. Colin Gunton, for example, in his analysis of modernity’s destruction of the proper relationship between the one and the many, offers a confessional solution. Modernity, according to Gunton, has a basic paradox: it was supposed to produce a world of autonomous, rational, tolerant individuals set in a culture of , but instead it produced “a herd society, a race of anxious, timid, conformist ‘sheep’.”222 He further points out that one of the characteristics shared

219 Alistair I. McFadyen, The Call to Personhood : A Christian Theory of the Individual in Social Relationships (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 215–17. 220 In his Ph.D. dissertation, Mi’kmaq theologian Terry LeBlanc notes a personal conversation with former James Bay Cree Deputy Grand Chief Kenny Blacksmith concerning hydro development in the north. LeBlanc writes, “Kenny Blacksmith . . . tells of a time when he was wrestling with a problem of huge consequence to his people, the James Bay Cree of northern Quebec. He took home to his mother his angst at not knowing just what to do. She spoke quietly, yet forcefully, saying, ‘Kenny, listen to the trees and they will tell you!’ And that is precisely what Kenny did.” LeBlanc, 2012, 224. 221 It is noteworthy, and supportive of this contention, that Canadian philosopher John Ralston Saul, in his book A Fair Country, identifies one of the most significant differences between the colonial development of the United States and Canada as being the greater embrace, in Canada, of Indigenous viewpoints, , and ways of being in the land, leading to what he refers to as a Métis identity. John Ralston Saul, 2008, 3–98. 222 Colin E. Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 13.

58 by ancient Greek thought and modern thought is that they both “play the one against the many, or the many against the one, in such a way that the of both are often lost.”223 To battle this kind of thinking, Gunton suggests Irenaeus’ theology of creation. This theology of creation does not lapse into or deism and has the triune God intimately involved in the entirety of creation—a mystery that is flowing out of God’s creative work as the Trinity.224 His solution, then, is to advocate for a renewed doctrine of the Triune God as creator, sustainer, and redeemer of creation. Flowing out of this understanding, in Gunton’s view, would come proper relatedness or relationality leading human beings to right relationship with God, with other human beings, and with one another.225

Gunton is concerned with protecting the transcendence of God and believes a reinvigorated doctrine of the Trinity will correct the modernist’s wrong thinking about creation. To this end, while he acknowledges that all things are related, he stresses that there is “‘continuity within discontinuity’ between human and non-human creation.”226 The discontinuity is found in the dual reality of humanity: not but made in deity’s image, not sovereign but having dominion over the rest of creation. He resolves this by saying that a non-utilitarian approach to the creation is possible only in a proper relationship with the triune God.227

Kantian “mind and thing” mechanistic views of the universe 228 that precluded meaning other than as resource or “even an enemy,”229 or dualisms like Rousseau’s spirit and nature, “romanticiz[ing] about nature so that it is the main criteria for thought and action,”230 fall short for Gunton. Because they are free to love and capable of love, God and people are personal beings. The rest of creation, however, while relational, is not personal. Properly understood, the relationship between God, people, and non-human creation is not the same as non-human sociality. Accordingly, the proper relationship to have with it is not personal but dominant.231 Dominion, as I have already mentioned, is taking responsibility under God for reciprocal care and the perfection of all of creation, including humans as part of the whole. While a good

223 Ibid., 6. 224 Gunton, The Triune Creator, 52–56; 134. 225 Gunton, The Triune Creator, 208. 226 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 3. 227 Gunton, The Triune Creator, 208. 228 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 228. 229 Gunton, The Triune Creator, 134. 230 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 228. 231 Over the years, in many contexts and personal conversations with me, Terry LeBlanc has oft quoted his grandfather to say, “Animals are persons too; they are just not people.” In making such a statement, LeBlanc’s grandfather is reflecting an Indigenous view of right relationship and relatedness.

59 distance down the road from the understanding of many theologians, Gunton’s ideas seem to preclude land as family, and contributor to identity.

Gunton’s theology, while still obviously reformed, has done much to correct a criticism that much of ‘popular’ Reformed theology has been primarily focused upon the fall and redemption. Gunton attempts to correct this, and any other modern understanding of Christian faith, that undervalues a trinitarian doctrine of creation. His ideas are helpful in two ways. First, his criticism of the dualist tendency in modern thought is a helpful warning about the danger of pantheism should we downplay God’s transcendence. Second, his acknowledgment that the universe is focused on proper relatedness because it is the outflowing of the creative work of the triune God affirms (intentionally or not) a communal understanding of identity as flowing out of proper relatedness to the Creator.232

Toward Communal Understandings

Two other voices offer not only additional perspective but also a greater sense of progress toward communal relationships as the intent of God. One, Stanley Grenz, was a Canadian-based theologian; the other, James McLendon, appropriates a Navajo Native American context for some of his thought.

Stanley Grenz Grenz states quite emphatically that God’s central plan for creation was community. This teleological goal of creation is an outflow of trinitarian love. God creates out of love; Jesus’ love opens the way to establish community, and the nurturing love of the Spirit creates the community.233 Grenz, as if echoing Gunton, places his emphasis on the doctrine of the Trinity as the theological foundation for the claim that God’s intended purpose for creation is community. As Grenz himself states, “The final goal of the work of the triune God in salvation history is the establishment of the eschatological community.”234

232 At the same time, Gunton does not show how this renewed thinking will actually lead to restored relationships outside of the Church. In this way it seems to lack connection with settings ouside of the Church. Also, he does not show how to account for groups that are not based upon a proper understanding of the doctrine of the Trinity but that still display a sense of communal idenity that does not obliterate the individual. These questions and others, however, are not the focus of this thesis. Indigenous identity can fit within a trinitarian theology because it seeks to balance the one to the many by seeking to build and maintain harmony in all relationships. 233 Stanley J. Grenz, “Salvation and God’s Program in Establishing Community,” Review & Expositor 91, no. 4 (1994): 511–16. 234 Grenz, Theology for the Community of God (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 2000), 115.

60 This eschatological community will be one in which all the relationships that are common to human beings will be restored. This point is important, since Grenz states that these relationships include human beings to God, human beings to other human beings, and human beings to creation or in relation to the land. This eschatological reality, Grenz observes, will consist of “a redeemed people dwelling on a renewed earth, enjoying reconciliation with their God, fellowship with each other, and harmony with all creation,” and he then summarizes this by saying, “God’s ultimate intention for creation is the establishment of community.”235 By stating that the teleological goal for human beings is community, Grenz infers that there is a loss of community in the present, in the “now but not yet.”

According to Grenz, from the inward turn of Augustine until the present time, the quest of Western theology has been for the stability of individual self-identity,236 and this quest has ended in frustration, which has led to a shattered identity. The solution, per Grenz, is to abandon the quest for the solitary individual and focus upon community. Not just any community, however, but the eschatological community as uncovered in a fresh appropriation of trinitarian theology situate in the local believing community, the Church. This ‘ecclesial’ identity is not primarily individual, “not merely a person-in-relationship but is, in fact, the ecclesial self, the new humanity in communion with the triune God.”237 Therefore, it is within the Church that the relationships so necessary for identity formation are developed. It is within the Church that the individual develops a new identity.

According to Grenz, the individual enters the Church at conversion, “not only [as] a turning from sin to God, but also turning from an old to a new community of participation.”238 This new community mediates a new cognitive framework by giving an individual memory and hope through the appropriation of a new story that comes out of scripture. As scripture is taken in, a new value system is imparted, aiding the individual in the development of her allegiance to “Christ embodied in the community.”239 In this way, according to Grenz, the church balances

235 Ibid. 236 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self: A Trinitarian Theology of the Imago Dei (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 15–19. 237 Ibid., 312. 238 Grenz, “Salvation and God's Program in Establishing Community,” Review & Expositor (1994) 91, no. 4: 516. 239 Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 499.

61 individual and corporate identity.240 He is mindful, however, that for this to happen in an evangelical setting there needs to be theological renewal.

Grenz considers the Church to be a distinct because it is made up of two or more people who are related to or oriented toward one another and thus share an awareness of one another. The Church, like any social group, seeks to perpetuate its institutional existence and its vision. The Church shares a set of values, beliefs, and loyalties, all of which develop out of a commitment to God through Jesus Christ. They share a common sense of mission and a shared set of symbols. These are all the items necessary to form a communal identity.241 (However, I would add that it is not only because of its focus on community that Church functions as a healthy social group.) Grenz’s work puts forward an alternative to the fragmented identity of the modern era.

Grenz is also helpful for my thesis because he is one more voice critiquing the modern Western pursuit of the individual. Grenz’s critique is similar to Gunton’s in that he states that Augustine played a significant role in the West’s preoccupation with individual identity. Gunton notes that from Augustine, the doctrine of creation was undervalued because of the Platonic thought he and Origen introduced.242 As noted above, Grenz points out that Augustine took an inward turn to find the universal, stable self. Boethius continued the quest for individual identity by defining the individual person as “the individual substance of a rational nature.”243 This focus, according to Grenz, was the advent of the individual.244 Modernity continued the search for the “self-assured, self-sufficient, centered self that constituted a stable identity in the midst of a chaotic world.”245 Grenz notes that this individual, unlike the individual in the pre-modern understanding of identity, was pried loose from creation and was on a journey to construct her own identity.

Grenz notes that modernity took two turns in the quest for a stable identity, both of which Gunton mentions, but Grenz goes into greater detail about the quest for the unique self. In the self-expression of the Romantic movement, the quest was to follow the Nature within through deep introspection, which Grenz terms ‘autobiography’. They were not attempting to use reason

240 Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology : A Fresh Agenda for the 21st Century (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 42. 241 Stanley J. Grenz and John R. Franke, Beyond : Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 163. 242 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 2. 243 This definition is given in Chapter 3 of Boethius’s “Liber de Persona et Duabus Naturis.” 244 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self , 65. 245 Ibid., 97.

62 to discover some universal idea of self but to discover in their particularity their unique person, which then they needed to accept as who they were. The problem, however, for the Romantic, was that they found within themselves an internal contradiction: being moral and desiring good, yet at the same time containing a radical evil. This evil was to be accepted as well, and even enjoyed; one was to embrace the “irrational and at times immoral wilderness within.”246 They then attempted to overcome this internal tension by focusing upon Nature, which contained, according to Ralph Waldo Emerson, an “Over-soul” or law of nature, which would allow them to overcome the internal tension.247 However, the Romantic did not find a solution to the inner turmoil, but only succeeded in pointing out “its [self] unstable center,” to use Grenz’s words, which de-stabilized the self, marking its eventual demise into extreme skepticism rather than utopia.

I mention Grenz’s observations about the Romantic movement because both Grenz and Gunton point out that it was not able to supply an adequate approach to identity. The modern turning to focus on nature does not enhance individual identity but, in Grenz’s opinion, produces an unstable self, because it is turning toward an inward unstable nature. Gunton would agree; he sees that a focus on nature resulted in versions of , which denigrate the particularity of the person—and, I would add, denigrates actual creation.248 Both authors’ perspectives serve as cautionary notes for this thesis to ensure that including land as part of identity does not lapse into another form of romanticism or some form of materialism. The focus upon land or creation by Indigenous people is not primarily an inward turn, but a focus on relationships with all the land.

Turning back to Grenz, he credits Friedrich Nietzsche and Michel Foucault with finishing off the stable self. Nietzsche intends to strengthen the self, even striving to establish the ‘superman’ who would restore noble individualism via will-to-power. Nietzsche doubts the “I” of “I think” and lapses into skepticism and doubt of even the thinking self.249 Of course, the inward turn and the quest through autobiography for the unique self ends in self-interest and the self disintegrates into nothing. Foucault for his parts takes the death of God argument and applies it to the self, and

246 Ibid., 109. 247 Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Over-Soul,” http://www.emersoncentral.com/oversoul.htm. 248 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 228; The Triune Creator, 52–56. 249 Friedrich Nietzsche, “Beyond Good and Evil,” in The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche, ed. Monroe C. Beardsley (New York: Random House, 1960), 16, 814–15.

63 he notes that both mind and body were socially constructed; man was only a modern .250 Thus, all that is left is a fractured image of self—still a concern, but without any mooring with which to find stability.251

All this results in a postmodern fragmented self. Even though there is a loss of the centred, stable self, there is still a quest for true selfhood.252 The true self will be found in the community, because no longer is the quest for identity limited to the autonomous individual; but the self now understands or assumes that self is constructed by community.253 However, Grenz notes that even though the postmodern self is looking to relationship for identity, it is still highly unstable or chaotic. Grenz thinks this chaos might spawn a quest for meaning, and he believes that a revived doctrine of the Trinity and teleological conception of imago dei could help the Christian community offer a new Christian identity to the chaotic postmodern self.

As already mentioned, “Postmoderns,” according to Grenz, were dissatisfied with material things, and because of this there was a revival in the idea of spirituality. This spirituality, however, was not necessarily built upon adherence to religious beliefs or doctrine.254 Some evangelicals have continued to engage “Postmoderns” with the same methods used throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Grenz’s favoured method sought to embrace in a way that was palatable for those searching for meaning. His approach was based around three sources for Christian identity. These sources would form his agenda for the postmodern context, and could form the agenda in almost any context. In his own words,

…to explore within our historical-cultural context the faith commitments we share with the church of all ages as informed by the Bible so that we might live for the glory of God. As we learn to engage in this enterprise, theologians can share the rich resource of their gifted-ness for the sake of the whole people of God and our common mission, namely, to be a people who honor the living God, the Father, who through the Son has called us into an eternal relationship by the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. May this God be praised!255

250 Michel Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences, World of Man (London: Tavistock Publications, 1970), 421–22. 251 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self, 123–34. 252 Grenz, “Christian Spirituality and the Quest for Identity: Toward a Spiritual-Theological Understanding of Life in Christ,” Baptist History and Heritage 37, no. 2 (2002): 91. 253 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self, 17. 254 Grenz, “An Agenda for Evangelical Theology in the Postmodern Context,” in Didaskalia 9, no. 2 (1998): 16. 255 Ibid.

64 The sources Grenz proposes for developing a theology at home in a context are the Biblical message, the theological heritage of the church, and the thought-forms of the contemporary culture.256 These of course not equal in weight (to Grenz, scripture is always the ‘norming’ norm), but each source is integral to placing the gospel message into the categories that exist within a community.

As stated above, Grenz was attempting to balance the evangelical tendency to see scripture as primarily a source of propositional doctrine. He wanted to accentuate scripture as the source of spiritual sustenance for the community and the individual believer.257 The best way to do this was through the use of narrative. Grenz would agree with the point I am making that narrative is important for the development of communal identity. Scripture helps form identity within the Christian community because it supplies a common set of beliefs based upon scripture, which helps each person interpret their own experience and faith as being within the believing community. Scripture also provides the story that provides the basis for identity, relaying the paradigmatic events258 that formed the community and into which each person is placed as they become a person of the community and its shared narrative.259

Grenz points out that identity is developed through a shared narrative: “The community transmits to the individual the transcending story, as the community carries from generation to generation and from group to individual traditions of virtue, the , and ultimate meaning, that is of character and value.”260 Each person in an evangelical community of faith shares the biblical story as well as their personal story or testimony of how God has changed their life. Also, it is the biblical narrative that enables evangelicals to talk about their faith in such a way that sets them within the same community. In this way, Grenz is in concord with George Lindbeck’s approach to narrative.261 Gunton, on the other hand, is critical of Lindbeck because he thinks Lindbeck in attempting to show that the importance of narrative devalues the importance of propositions.262 Lindbeck, of course, would counter that proposition is important;

256 Ibid., 10. 257 Grenz, “Nurturing the Soul, Informing the Mind,” 23. 258 Grenz, “The Spirit and the Word : The World-Creating Function of the Text,” Theology Today 57, no. 3 (2000): 361. 259 Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology, 57–77. 260 Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 501. 261 Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology, 77. 262 It is interesting to note that Gunton is critical of Lindbeck's emphasis of narrative over a cognitive approach that stresses eternal truths. Gunton believes that eternal truths, if still truth, need not be abodoned. See Gunton, The Triune Creator, 7.

65 “Jesus is Lord” is a significant proposition. Lindbeck was arguing that dogma has propositional content, but that the Christian faith cannot be reduced to only definition.263 Grenz, however, embraces the narrative approach to scripture and theology because it forms the basis for communal Christian identity. The purpose of the biblical narrative is not to illustrate principles but to provide a place for people to ‘inhabit the story.’264

Amerindian peoples in general, and the Cree specifically, would also offer that their traditional stories form part of their identity. The stories of being upon specific territories form part of a shared memory or shared narrative that is fundamental to being in a good relationship with the land called North America. To use the words of John Borrows, “The treaties flowed from a sacred place.”265 I contend that Indigenous treaty is an attempt to locate the Church within Indigenous territory. It is a way for the Church to become Indigenous to the North American context. This idea will be developed further later.

The theological heritage is also fundamental to Grenz’s understanding of how the community shapes the identity of both the community and the individual. Grenz notes that although the community has become the focus of postmodernity, it also tends to become communally relativistic. Communal relativity is different from individualistic relativism because it is “expressed in maxims such as, ‘What is right for us, may not be right for you,’ and what is wrong in our context, may in your context be okay or even preferable’.” To counteract this tendency, one needs to be aware of the Christian communities’ theological heritage, which will safeguard a community from the mistakes of the past. As well, theological heritage provides the categories by which the scripture is read.266 Although appearing circular, the community is not alone in its reasoning, but the Holy Spirit is guiding the community, which is understood to be made up of believers from the past who have been involved in establishing orthodoxy as well as believers from the present who must consider the established theological dogma from the past. Thus, in the context of the community of God, the Spirit, using scripture, provides the interpretive framework so that orthodoxy is maintained.267 Thus, communal theology is confessional. Theology cautions us against an arrogant approach to scripture, preferring instead

263 Lindbeck and Buckley, The Church in a Postliberal Age, 129–37. 264 Stanley J. Grenz, “Participation in What Frees: The Concept of Truth in the Postmodern Context,” Review & Expositor 100, no. 4 (2003): 691. 265 John Borrows, Canada's Indigenous Constitution (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2010), 24–25. 266 Grenz, “An Agenda for Evangelical Theology in the Postmodern Context,” 12. 267 Grenz, “The Spirit and the Word,” 361–65.

66 to approach scripture as ‘other’ to ‘other.’ A humbler approach means to read the bible as a whole, rather than focusing upon individual passages to support one’s understanding in a way that sets oneself apart from the historical community of faith. This kind of theological reading is an attempt to be taken in by the story of the community, which is the biblical story, empowered by the Holy Spirit.268

Although Grenz does not state it this way, the relationship between the believer and the scripture ought to be a hermeneutic of love. An Indigenous perspective would add to this the importance of the community as well as the individual. In a love relationship between two people, both people are changed by the relationship, but neither person becomes something they were never meant to be. In the same way, if the relationship within the believing community is guided by a hermeneutic of love, then the way that the gospel story is understood within that community will be changed; different aspects might be emphasized in one context as opposed to others, but the scripture will not become caricatured into something that it was never meant to be. Also, the individuals and the community of faith will not become something they were never meant to be. Grenz seems to acknowledge this when he points out that in the postmodern era the quest for a truly spiritual identity is the quest for true humanness.269 The idea that spirituality is about being truly human would resonate with an Indigenous understanding of spirituality.

Grenz’s final pillar for the formation of Christian communal identity is contemporary culture. Grenz’s comments on the importance of culture for the development of identity give credence to my thesis that Indigenous identity has certain particularities that must be respected in order for Christianity to be at home in Indigenous culture. The cultural context in which a theologian finds herself provides the categories or language within which theology must find a home. In Grenz’s words:

The social community in which the people participate contains its own cognitive tools— language, symbols, and outlooks on the world—that facilitate identity formation and the experience of reality. If the faith community would address the gospel message to the aspirations of people, therefore, it must understand the identity-forming and experience-facilitation concepts of the society in which it ministers the confession ‘Jesus is Lord’ . . . The theologian . . . can help fashion the church’s message in accordance to the categories of the recipients.270

268 Ibid., 373. 269 Grenz, “Christian Spirituality and the Quest for Identity,” 91. 270 Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology, 98.

67 Grenz was in keeping with many in missiology, such as Charles Kraft271 or Lesslie Newbigin, who understood that theology and the gospel message are contextual and therefore need to be contextualized. Newbigin understood that for the gospel to be heard in another culture, it must fit the categories of the receptor culture.272 Contextualization was not sufficient for theology; it must also concern itself with the ‘important’ questions the society is asking. Thus, Grenz advocated a combination of Kraft’s contextualization and Paul Tillich’s method of correlation.273 This last step is controversial; for some scholars are hesitant to include correlation because of the threat of placing too much emphasis upon culture.274

However, Grenz believed that theology must be culture-specific in order to facilitate the development of Christian identity in any cultural situation. For Grenz, this included ‘pop culture,’ for even in popular culture there is a language and there are constructs that must inform the way that theology is taught—all to facilitate Christian identity.275 Thus, it is the job of theologians to work toward bringing all truth together in God. Not only bringing together truth but along with truth, the entire web of relationships that make up identity, so that the gospel fits a particular culture but still pushes said culture to its eschatological future.276 Theology must then be local. As Grenz and Franke express it, “What makes a local theology Christian is its trinitarian content, communitarian in focus, and eschatological in orientation.”277 It must be local and universal.

Stanley Grenz made significant contributions to theology that takes seriously the importance of community and narrative for the development of identity. This thesis also includes a particular understanding of creation or land as part of communal identity. Grenz makes limited comments about creation; however, even his limited comments help support the contentions of this thesis. As stated above, Grenz believes that all history is moving towards the triune God’s teleological end, which will see human beings living in harmony with creation.278 This hope for the future comes out of his understanding that the modern world distanced itself from creation as the

271 Grenz and Franke, Beyond Foundationalism, 158. 272 Lesslie Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks: The Gospel and Western Culture (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1986), 5–6. 273 Grenz and Franke, Beyond Foundationalism, 151–58. 274 Grenz, “An Agenda for Evangelical Theology in the Postmodern Context,” 13. 275 Grenz, “What does Hollywood have to do with Wheaton? The Place of (Pop) Culture in Theological Reflection,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 43, no. 2 (2000): 311. 276 Grenz and Franke, Beyond Foundationalism, 135–38. 277 Ibid., 163. 278 Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 123.

68 context of its identity when it rejected the pre-modern understanding of human identity. (Indigenous people may not have rejected completely this understanding of identity to the same extent as modern Western culture.) Grenz acknowledges that material things—which I assume include the earth, even though used in a utilitarian fashion—still make up in some way part of the artifacts of culture and, thus, part of identity. So, in the quest for a renewed Christian spirituality, a proper attitude toward the material universe needs to be developed.279 Creation must not be used in a utilitarian fashion; instead, human beings ought to value creation with the value God placed upon it.280 Grenz does not elaborate all that this means, but this thesis makes a small contribution toward this end.

Grenz also falls subject to Kathryn Tanner’s critique that, while focusing upon the Trinity relationships may seem to provide a basis for a proper communal identity, it is a bit abstract,281 and therefore the reality of Christ come in the flesh might be a better focus for proper identity. Grenz would agree that Christ is central; in his understanding of the image of God, he chooses Christ as the representative or teleological goal. Christians are being made into his image, which also has an eschatological end. Here, too, he does not clarify what parts all of creation have in this identity.

Grenz also does not work through the implication of the complicated relationship between the Church and Indigenous people, particularly when it comes to the attack on Indigenous identity by the Church. Both the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People as well as the recent report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in Canada implicate the Church in the attempt to obliterate Indigenous identity in Canada.282 Because Indigenous communal identity has been the target of cultural genocide, the Church must work through its sin in order to establish a harmonious relationship between itself and Indigenous people, as Nations of people. In the end, Grenz still leans toward a modern individual identity. Indigenous people’s conception of communal identity could be a resource for the Canadian Church to build up a sense of narrated communal identity.

279 Grenz, “What Does Hollywood Have to Do with Wheaton?” 305. 280 Grenz, Created for Community: Connecting Christian Belief with Christian Living, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1998), 73. 281 Tanner, Christ the Key, 208. 282 Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, 1.

69 James McClendon Another evangelical thinker coming out of the Baptist tradition is James McClendon, Jr. He also critiques the modern Western preoccupation with individual identity. His approach is to identify the convictional Christian community as the primary locus of the development of Christian identity. These convictions form the basis for Christian engagement or witness with culture, since true Christian convictions are part of the ongoing story of Christian engagement with the world. It is important, then, to understand how McClendon defines his terms.

McClendon defines convictions in a variety of ways, but they are nonetheless central to his understanding of identity, since what is most important to people shape who they are. Convictions are a necessary part of the story of a person or a community’s life.283 Convictions, however, are not to be confused with principles, which, according to McClendon, are formed through individual introspection.284 Neither are convictions propositions, those being something McClendon notes as particularly attractive to Protestants.285 Propositions, however, do not adequately account for the community. Propositions have tended primarily to be something to be held cognitively, while beliefs “are living convictions which give shape to actual lives and actual communities.”286 Convictions are persistent,287 even tenacious beliefs that shape the community.288 In McClendon’s own words,

Convictions are beliefs, and they do bear a special relation to the rest of our beliefs and to ourselves as well. . . . Convictions . . . are persistent beliefs such that if X (a person or community) has a conviction, it will not be easily relinquished and cannot be relinquished without making X a significantly different person (or community) than before.289

Convictions, then, are of theological concern because they shape the individual as well as the community; however, the community is primary, for it is the community that first develops the convictions by which it is then defined.290

283 James Wm. McClendon, Jr. and James M. Smith, Convictions: Defusing Religious Relativism, rev. ed. (Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1994), 6. 284 James Wm. McClendon, Jr., Biography as Theology: How Life Stories Can Remake Today's Theology, new ed. (Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990), 20. 285 James Wm. McClendon, Jr. and Nancey Murphy, Doctrine, Systematic Theology, vol. 2 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 28. 286 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 22. 287 McClendon and Smith, Convictions, 7, 87. 288 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 19. 289 McClendon and Smith, Convictions, 87. 290 Ibid., 178.

70 The community has three kinds of convictions that make communal life possible: moral, philosophical, and doctrinal. Doctrinal convictions are the primary focus of McClendon’s theology because they are of a first order and represent the of the community, which need to be propagated by the Church in order to be the Christian church.291 The community develops these convictions by its reading of scripture. McClendon favours an approach that borrows heavily from Hans Frei.292 The community reads the Bible looking for the plain sense of the scripture by a Christological reading; in this way, unity is provided to the whole canon of scripture while at the same time the community can attempt to understand how it must live out the master story of scripture.293 Thus, the convictional community is the hermeneutical community encountering the particular Jesus mediated by the Holy Spirit amid the group;294 it takes the community into the master story, and pushes the community in turn to express the story in its life. In this way, McClendon envisions that there are always two stories occurring: the larger story of God interacting with his people and his creation, as well as the story of people interacting with God. The community lives the story of scripture even as the biography of each person yields a theology of what it means to follow Jesus in their life.

Biography as theology is a distinctive of McClendon’s theology. He observed that from time to time there were individuals who embodied the convictions of the Christian community and the theological images of scripture in innovative ways:

It is plain that the example of these lives may serve to disclose and perhaps to correct or enlarge the community’s moral vision, at the same time arousing impotent wills within the community to be a better fulfillment of the vision already acquired.295

This focus on the individual, however, was not a quest for a superhuman. Instead, it should be seen as an example of someone using their life for the sake of the community and Christ as they live an authentic Christian life in the larger society.

It is to the larger society that the Christian Church must witness. To this end, McClendon advocates embracing pluralism as the context for the dialogue between convictional communities.296 Embracing pluralism, as defined by McClendon, does not mean treating

291 McClendon and Murphy, Doctrine, 21. 292 Ibid., 37–38. 293 James Wm. McClendon, Jr. and Nancey Murphy, Witness, Systematic Theology, vol. 3 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2000), 376. 294 McClendon, Doctrine, 38. 295 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 22. 296 McClendon and Smith, Convictions, 154.

71 whatever religious convictions a person or community holds as adequate; rather, it means acknowledging that there is a diversity of convictional communities.297 Not only is there a multitude of convictional communities, but individuals are members of a multiplicity of such communities.298 It is necessary to work through different sets of convictions for two reasons. First, it is necessary to be able to justify one’s convictions.299 Second, it is necessary to have an authentic Christian witness that speaks into different communities’ stories by taking seriously their convictions as well as helping them live out the Christian master story.300 McClendon advocates working through the convictions of a community by analyzing its religious language, people particularly focusing upon what the members of the community say and write to each other.301

What is of interest here is that McClendon uses Navajo culture as an example to discuss how he would take seriously the pluralism of religious convictions and dialogue between convictional communities in order to offer his opinion of how the gospel might speak into the Navajo context. Although herein I am focusing upon the Indigenous people of Canada, since the Navajo are cousins to the Dene people of Northern Canada, there is a direct cultural cross-connection. Navajo and Dene both say that they can understand each other’s language, which supports McClendon’s idea that the Navajo at one time wandered down from the North. This observation, of course, is not as important as the observations McClendon makes about the culture of the people as well as their approach to the world.

McClendon first observes that the Navajo view themselves as intimately related to all of creation. He observes that the ceremony and of the Navajo are all aimed at maintaining harmony, which is the contention of this present work about the way that story functions among many Indigenous people in North America. Second, these rituals and ceremonies are an inseparable part of life itself for the Navajo people, so much so that McClendon views their whole culture through a religious lens, his lens of conviction, and calls this section of his book “Navajo culture as religion.”302 His embrace of pluralism leads him to acknowledge that Western society and theology have much to learn about the nature of harmonious relationships. He

297 Ibid., 6. 298 Ibid., 92. 299 Ibid., 12. 300 McClendon and Murphy, Witness, vol. 3, 350. 301 McClendon and Smith, Convictions, 42–43. 302 McClendon and Murphy, Witness, vol. 3, 66–74.

72 observes, however, that the gospel might deliver Navajo people from what he describes as an unhealthy fear of witchcraft, ghosts, and death.

What is significant is that if McClendon’s biography as theology is applied not only to individuals but also to Navajo practices of harmony, then McClendon, although he does not state it specifically, is making room for Indigenous people to enlarge the vision of Western theology. Evidence of this lies in his acknowledgment that the Navajo understanding of relatedness could teach theology something about the interconnectedness of all things. By extension, then, it seems that Indigenous communal identity might have something to teach the Church in North America about seeking proper relatedness.

McClendon’s attempt at creating a dialogue between the Navajo conceptions of relatedness and Western theology could be extended to focus particularly upon the human being’s relatedness to land or place. Again, the Navajo understanding can help the moral vision of the Western Church, should the Western Church move away from a utilitarian view of the land. This move away from a utilitarian approach to ethics is exactly what McClendon was attempting to do in Biography as Theology.303 Of course, his focus was primarily upon a utilitarian approach to how people treat people, but a move away from a utilitarian approach to creation would fit in this same vein of thinking. Navajo approaches to land could aid the West to move not only away from an egocentric approach to identity and toward other people, but also away from an anthropocentric view of Creation. This human-centred view, George Hendry suggests, views creation as simply for an individual’s own utilitarian benefit,304 and sees human beings as transcendent over creation, breaking free from creation and holding the seeds to a utilitarian use of the created world.305

McClendon’s comments are helpful, though his view of Navajo culture, coming through his lens, influences his interpretation of Navajo religiousness. He first does this by assuming that because Navajo view the same force or spirit that shaped nature as “inspiriting” them, Navajo view themselves as above or separate from nature.306 His observation leads one to wonder if McClendon retains the Western idea that the spiritual is in some sense different from the

303 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 14–16. 304 George Stuart Hendry, Theology of Nature, The Warfield Lectures 1978 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980), 17. 305 Clayton, God and Contemporary Science, 33–35. 306 McClendon and Murphy, Witness, 69.

73 ordinary natural. His view of witches, ghosts, and other such superstitions seems an overly simplistic approach to what the besetting sins of Navajo culture might be. There needs to be a more thorough dealing with Navajo self-understanding.

McClendon does deal with the environment or land in an indirect way when he deals with his idea of Christianity as an embodied religion. He reacts to the Western propensity to denigrate the organic body by emphasizing the importance of ethics where ethics are about following Jesus in the real material world. Christian community, therefore, is about an embodied community living out its life in the now and not yet, where the present world is viewed as the place of Christian witness (through a life devoted to Christ) that prepares for the ultimate world that will appear with the eschaton. We live within an understanding that the present world is subject to the sinfulness of humanity, but the Christian community must live here in the now but not yet.307 This does not mean living one life inside the Church and another in society, but living one life or story of the community authentically amid the variety of relationships of life.308

McClendon then affirms that the West has not paid enough attention to the role of community, and he offers some helpful understandings of the way in which relationships must extend beyond individual-to-individual to form a dialogue between convictional communities. At the same time, his emphasis upon theology seen in sharpest focus in the lives of individuals who embody the convictions and vision of the Christian community makes plain that the community does not eclipse the individual. For McClendon, Indigenous people, or at least the Navajo, have a holistic approach to life that theology could learn from even as the Navajo do themselves. He opens the door for a better understanding of embodied Christianity, but he does not work out what images would serve best to understand the relationship between human beings and the environment. These last two points highlight the focus of the scholarship of this thesis.

Implications for This Work Indigenous ideas of identity share the collected concerns expressed by all the above authors. In an Indigenous context, community is assumed, by default, to be the focus. The relationships that make up the community are those that are valuable to and, in turn, give value to Indigenous people. In chapter one I noted that Indigenous communal identity begins by placing focus on relationship at the center. To be clear, however, let me reiterate that this is not merely

307 James Wm. McClendon, Jr. and Nancey Murphy, Ethics, Systematic Theology, vol. 1. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1986), 68–109. 308 Ibid., 158.

74 relationship as detached from the entities or objects themselves. Instead, we speak of the whole social web of relationships noted in Frei’s definition. Relationship embodies physical and personal states. These are the focus of Indigenous identity whereby the starting point and goal of identity is the development and maintenance of these relationships. Indigenous people tend to see relationships first when considering who they are as a people or as individuals.

In this work, I am attempting to extend Bonhoeffer’s sociality, Zizioulas’ being as communion, Pannenberg’s relationality, and Volf’s idea of personhood; and to extend the theological understanding of communal relationships to include the specific geographic location where a community and individual find their identity. Indigenous people want to extend the idea of communal identity to include the land that has sustained them. This inclusion of land extends familial relationships to include all of creation. Earle Waugh points out that to the Cree all things are relatives, but not always human relatives.309As a Cree person, my relationship with the land, the environment, or creation is familial. This attitude is not limited to my tribal people but is held by others as well.

The Lakota, for example, use the expression, ‘all my relatives,’ often at the beginning and ending of a greeting, which affirms the interrelatedness of all things. Sister Marie Therese Archambault, Hunkpapa Lakota, comments on this greeting and its reality in Indigenous people’s lives when she says,

We are people who always sense ourselves in relationship. Our identity has passed on from within our family groups and clans. Our people formed cultures marked by deep interrelationship with themselves and outwardly with the earth. Living within community and acting with a primary community mentality comes easy for us.310

In this way, as already stated in chapter one, Indigenous people consider land, or for that matter, the whole universe, as a part of their family or communal identity.

309 Earle H. Waugh and Chief Wayne Roan, “On Concepts and ‘the Best Places:’ Comparative First Nations, Chinese and Western Traditions on Comprehending Reality,” and Theology 25, no. 1 (2006): 10. 310 Marie Therese Archambault, “Native Americans and Evangelization,” in Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, ed. James Treat (New York: Routledge, 1996), 143.

75 Indigeneity and Communally Focused Identity

Indigenous people have a conception of identity that focuses upon the group, thereby making it, to quote Terry LeBlanc, “socio-centric as opposed to egocentric.”311 The latter is the primary form of identity in a significant portion of French and English-speaking Canada. Every non- Indigenous Canadian, however, is not always inclined to place the autonomous individual as the priority. There are many recent newcomers to Canada from countries that do not necessarily share the egocentric view; however those have not been the primary peoples that Indigenous people have had to engage with concerning Christianity. Thus, the focus upon the individual has been the primary lens for identity and identity formation during Indigenous encounters with Euro-Canadian Christianity Attempts are being made to shift the focus toward a communal identity; however, in much of Western thought identity remains egocentric.

The egocentric model focuses primarily upon the autonomous individual. In a family or group, cords of connection connect all the individuals. These connections may be shared needs, shared purposes, and other kinds of common attachments that make up similarities in a family. In the egocentric model, however, the focus is on the individual and not on those things that connect the individuals, as Figure 1 illustrates.312

Individual

Individual Individual

Individual Individual

Figure 1. Egocentric model of community

The Indigenous concept of group identity, on the other hand, is socio-centric. Indigenous people understand multiple relationships as part of their own identity. Thus, for a family, the bonds that

311 This was expressed in a personal conversation with Terry LeBlanc at his home on December 5, 2017, as we discussed this dissertation. 312 LeBlanc, “Family Structures: Euro-Canadian and Native Canadian.”

76 unify the family are not strings of attachment; rather they form part of the shared identity of the family through shared experience, space, land use, etc. Figure 2 illustrates this reality.313

Individual

Individual Individual

Figure 2. Socio-centric model of community

Émile Durkheim noted the concept of group identity among Indigenous people in his writing.314 There was a sense in which the notion of the group was of utmost importance to the Indigenous people, including the Cree people. If it is true that there was an enhanced sense of group identity among Indigenous people at the time of Durkheim’s writing, then this would likely mean a different emphasis in identity was evident in the West as well—an emphasis would have had implications for its theology.

It might be argued by some that this sense of communal identity is rooted in the distant past. Alternately, it might be claimed that Indigenous people did not completely assimilate to Western ways because their culture was too backward; they were unable to do so.315 Indigenous identity, however, is something that has persisted.

Emphasizing this perseverance, D’Arcy McNickle notes a study of two groups of Ojibwa people from the same historical community: one group continuing to live off the land through hunting and fishing; and the other group living closer to Euro-American communities, dressing and behaving like those in the Euro-American communities, and even sending their children to Western schools. The study predicted that the more western acculturated group would be radically different in their personality picture than the group who still lived by their traditions. However, McNickle observes,

313 Ibid. 314Émile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life: A Study in Religious , trans. Joseph Ward Swain (Glencoe, Illinois: The Free Press, 1947), 16. 315 McNickle, Native American Tribalism, 1–8.

77 Contrary to expectations, the studies furnished a considerable body of evidence that all points in the same direction—a persistent core of psychological characteristics sufficient to identify an Ojibwa personality constellation, Indigenous in origin, that is clearly discernable through all levels of acculturation yet studied.316

A more current study continues to support the centrality of Indigenous identity for Canada’s Indigenous people. The Urban Aboriginal Peoples Study published in 2010 by the Environics Institute found that Indigenous identity continued to be important for Indigenous people, even when they lived in Canadian urban centers. Most Indigenous people continue to believe that their cultural identity is important, which includes a connection to their own, their parents’, or their grandparents’ original community of origin.317 The importance of cultural identity demonstrates a persistent connection to the land—a connection that has not been lost even though there has been increased urbanization among Indigenous people. Indigenous identity continues to exist; it is an identity that is not opposed to being in partnership with other Canadians but continues to see itself as being singularly important. Both reports offer statistical data that verify the premise that Indigenous identity exists and is not static but dynamic, seeking ways of expression and preservation. Therefore, it is possible to dialogue between Indigenous people and theology concerning identity.

Ways of Examining Community and Identity

There are several different vantage points from which to examine the communal aspect of Indigenous identity, but for this thesis only three will be assessed: language, the act of naming, and the treaty relationship. These perspectives serve to point out the complex understanding of identity that exists among the Cree people. McIntyre notes that Indigenous people have an innate grasp of these complexities.318 For obvious reasons, the language focus will be that of the Cree people of Canada because, as noted earlier, they make up one of the largest groups of Indigenous language speakers in Canada.

What is interesting about the Cree language is that it contains ways of expressing relationships not only between individuals, but also between different groups. This way of talking about group-to-group relations and other elements of the language reveals a complex description of the relational aspect of existence for the Cree people. The “mother tongue” of the Cree people differs

316 Ibid., 10. 317 “Urban Aboriginal Peoples Study,” (Toronto, Ottawa, Calgary: Environics Institute, 2010). 318 MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, 197–98.

78 from English or French, and even when English becomes the first language for an individual, the priorities of relationship continue to be expressed as they would be within the political and social aspirations of the group.319

Second, the practice of naming reveals the corporate nature of identity as well as the complex understanding of identity fluidity over time. Again, the naming or description of land, animals, and persons reveals aspects of communal Cree identity and, by extension, the complex communal focus of Indigenous language. What is more, the rubric of Cree corporate identity is not limited to the life span of an individual. In addition to holding a complex understanding of corporate identity, it also holds a multifaceted understanding of how one’s identity exists over time within the more intricate understanding of time itself. Paul Ricoeur would agree that identity, even just within one’s lifetime, is complex. Indeed, one of the major questions of philosophy seeks to navigate how a person can be thought of as a person when said person changes over time. The Cree would increase the complexity by insisting that one’s own identity extends even beyond the limitations of birth and death. Durkheim also made this observation, that there is a collective sense of knowledge that extends into the past.320 The Cree, through their stories and their understanding of treaty, reveal that they do not have a simple understanding of time; rather, embedded within their culture is the idea that identity extends both forward and back through one’s relatives.321

Finally, the narrated identity of the Cree reveals the importance of memory in the ongoing development of a Cree identity during the 21st century. I will examine the treaty relationship between the Cree nations and the modern Canadian nation-state to highlight the difference in these two understandings of corporate identity. The former assumes that their corporate national identity is part of their being because it is in part related to places upon the earth; the latter assumes that one can change national identity as easily as walking across an imaginary line.

319 Lesslie Newbigin points out that one of the categories by which we learn the heart language of a people is their political and social aspirations. See Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks. 320 Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, 16. 321 Although it is not the goal of this thesis, in general there continues to be a need to debunk the idea that all Indigenous peoples had a primitive, simplistic, cyclical view of time or that they viewed time as something to be eradicated; rather, it was a reality and called for a different response to identity and group than to limit identity to the years one spends walking the earth. See for example, Mircea Eliade, The Myth of the Eternal Return or, Cosmos and History, trans. Willard H. Trask (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1954), 85.

79 The Language ‘Game’ of the Cree

Some clarification may be necessary for the title of this section. The term “language game” has fascinated me because in the Cree language and among the Cree people there is a very real sense that language is used to tease, to taunt, to hide, and to teach—taking the form of a game. The “game” of humour played a role even in , as in some Indigenous groups sacred clowns would appear whose role was to make the people laugh so they could endure the difficulty of the grief and pain.322 There were that would last for days. My mother related to me that when she would attend a Powwow as a child, people there would play betting games for three days straight. Humour and games are all part of the larger category of “mystery.” It fits into the understanding that there is not a one-to-one correspondence between the name for something and the object; it is simply a relationship that communicates a reality. I am not sure if this is what Wittgenstein meant by “language game,” but it would serve a purpose here, because language is understood in a Cree context as belonging to the individual but also the group. In other words, some rules govern how language is used.

If Western philosophy has struggled with the relationship of oneself to self, or with mind, body, and soul, Cree people struggle to maintain relationship between oneself and the group. Again, this is not to say that this aspect of the standing of an individual within the group is ignored by Western philosophy, but it is not the locus of much of modern thought or writing. Rather, as with Descartes’ “I think therefore I am,” the focus of identity becomes the autonomous individual. Only in the latter part of the twentieth century did the relational sense of identity become more centred. Not so with the Cree people, for they assume that they have an identity, but that that identity is in relation to others.

For example, Indigenous people derive their sense of worth from relationships, whereas Euro- Canadians derive much of their worth or value from what they do or possess. This difference does not mean that Indigenous people do not value doing things, or that Euro-Canadians do not value relationships, but the focus is different. It is common among Euro-Canadians when first meeting to inquire what a person does. Conversely, for Indigenous people, the primary questions of interest surround where a person is from and to whom they are related. While this is anecdotal data gleaned from a lifetime of travel across Canada and the United States, it is quite consistent,

322 George Manuel and Michael Posluns, The Fourth World : An Indian Reality (New York: Free Press, 1974), 139. See also Archambault, “Native Americans and Evangelization,” 143.

80 and it reveals a difference of focus. Relationships are of primary importance to Indigenous people.

If we were to make general categories to describe important relationships for Cree people, they would be as follows: relationships with other people in my group and other groups of people; relationships with spiritual beings; and relationships to the rest of creation. Of course, these are oversimplifications, and these categories may not have been specifically defined among Indigenous people. The Cree person would be more likely to view all of life as a whole, a ‘sacred’ or ‘supernatural’ whole. For there is no natural order apart from the supernatural for the Cree; the supernatural is considered to ‘infuse’ the world occupied by the Cree.323 That they see the world as spiritual does not mean that the Cree or other Indigenous peoples are all animists or pantheists, but merely that they understand that all things form a living whole.324

The word “supernatural” or “spiritual” does not necessarily equate with the divine for the Cree people.325 In this sense, supernatural is a misnomer, because supernatural and natural are all considered part of the real or normal world. Thus, all things are considered sacred, but something could be more sacred or less sacred. Sacred here refers to something that seems of greater significance or power. This movement depended on context and human interactions. As Earle Waugh observes, “The sacred was not an absolute, unlike the European word, which seemed to have no room in it for slippage, nor the possibility that it could be terrifying at one moment, ordinary the next.”326 What is significant for this work is the emphasis that the Cree language system places upon relationship. Relationships extend to all parts of the universe, including the sacred. In some ways, the language gives evidence that the Cree have a primary focus upon identity with the other, not with only the autonomous individual.

Communal focus does not mean that the individual has no place in Cree interaction. The individual may achieve certain things, but it is the community that validates all achievements and gives credence to any ‘spiritual’ experiences. For the Cree, the individual is important, but to live is to seek to use individual freedom to be in good relationship with all others, including land. If someone wants to change a religious ceremony because of a dream or vision, for example, at

323 Waugh and Roan, “On Concepts and 'The Best Places,’” 10–11. 324 Jamake Highwater, The Primal Mind: Vision and Reality in Indian America (New York: New American Library, 1982), 82. 325 Waugh and Roan, 8. 326 Earle H. Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1996), 46.

81 least three other people must have had the same dream or vision before this change can occur.327 Alternatively, a dream may be considered spiritual or kichi only if it occurs four times.328 The group must acknowledge even this replication of a dream by the individual, however. Again, this reveals the importance of the group for an Indigenous theology that is not primarily situated within the locus of the autonomous individual. Coming full circle here, both McClendon and Grenz make the point that theology is the task of the community of people.

The Cree language does make allowances for the individual. For example, there are personal pronouns in the Cree language system, but these pronouns are not divided by gender; instead, the Cree language is divided into animate and inanimate objects. An animate object is capable of affecting activity, whereas an inanimate one is not. There are cases, however, when this simple division is not as easy as it seems; for example, a fork is inanimate, but a spoon is animate.329 The individual is animate, meaning he or she is capable of affecting activity.330 For Indigenous people, if one wants to determine if the antecedent to a personal pronoun used in a story or account being told is male or female, this must be determined from the context.331 In this way (although it seems rather elementary), the identity of male or female is located in the larger story. It is in the larger story and action that the identity of the person being described is discovered. I add the word action to the last sentence because inanimate and animate reveal that the Cree language is concerned with describing what movement is taking place, what action.332

The Cree would agree with Macmurray’s emphasis upon the importance of action and the individual because one can recognize what or who by the action or movement that is taking place. The Cree, however, would not limit person to human beings and God but extend the idea of person to all of creation. Thus, many names for objects or other creatures are a description of their characteristics or their actions. This understanding of person does not mean that Cree or other Indigenous people believe human beings and God are of the same nature; Indigenous people recognize difference, but they do not equate differences between creatures as a hierarchy

327 Ibid., 47. 328 Waugh and Roan, 10. 329 Personal conversation with John Unger, October 2005. John Unger was a former teacher of the Cree language to missionaries working for the Northern Canadian Evangelical Mission. 330 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds, 56. 331 Roger Willson Spielmann, ’You're so Fat’: Exploring Ojibwe Discourse (Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1998), 19. 332 I note here that, according to Terry LeBlanc, this is characteristic of all of the Indigenous languages he has become familiar with. All are verb-focused and verb-driven. “The action creates the actor.” Personal conversation December 5, 2017 at the LeBlanc home.

82 of beings.333 They do recognize that Gitchi-Mantou (Great Mystery) is superior to creation; that creation has many differences, but all are part of a whole and equal on some level.

Again, I highlight this difference in languages between Cree and English or French as evidence that identity has a different focus within a Cree context, and this will make a difference in doing theology. Another example is to be found in the categories of man and woman. Some people will point to the use of gender-specific pronouns in Greek to justify certain ideas about the masculinity of deity, even though this is a poor understanding of Greek pronouns. In Cree, one would not be able to rely on masculine pronouns. One would have to rely on other means, for example, the context of the story, to arrive at a certain understanding that attributed actions to men or a man.334 335

There are other distinctions within the Cree language that highlight a difference in attitude toward identity (individual and group) as well as toward the ‘other.’ Roger Spielmann points out that the Algonquin languages, of which Cree is one, emphasize respect for the ‘other’ that can be observed in a different hierarchy of person within the speech.336 In ordinary English usage, ‘I’ precedes ‘you,’ so that one would say, for example, “I see you.” In Cree, ‘you’ or any other given objects precede ‘I,’ so that the same idea would be expressed “you are seen by I.”337 The difference may seem small, but it illustrates the respect Indigenous people hold for others.

Spielmann points out that the Ojibwa people had respect toward other individuals, other groups, the environment, and the spiritual. Commands often come in the form of a story so that the one being told can ‘save face.’338 Rupert Ross, in his book Dancing with a Ghost, points out that Indigenous respect for others goes to the point of having an ethic which states, “no one has a right to tell anyone else what to do.”339 This ethic of non-interference points out the respect the Cree culture has for the other but also points out the importance of each part of creation. The

333 Cordova, “Ethics: The We and the I,” 176. 334 Although, I am not sure that one could arrive at the conception of a masculine God in the Cree, for kise- manitow, sometimes translated as the great spirit, is not always clear if is a being or a force or neither, but it refers to transcendent mystery. See, for example, Achiel Peelman, Christ is a Native American (Ottawa, ON; Maryknoll, NY: Novalis-Saint Paul University; Orbis Books, 1995), 46. 335 All this does not diminish the individual but may in fact enhance the identity of women because in Cree, women and men are seen as equal. He or she is aware of the group, or has a tribal , and out of respect will make decisions that fit the group. See Spielmann, ‘You're so Fat’, 45; Waugh, Dissonant Worlds, 56. 336 Spielmann, ‘You're So Fat’, 45. 337 Ibid. 338 Spielmann, ‘You're So Fat', 37. 339 Rupert Ross, Dancing With a Ghost : Exploring Indian Reality (Markham, ON: Octopus Books, 1992), 12–28.

83 individual is significant because of her ability to respect the other, to realize her significance lies in relationship to the other. It is this ability to find one’s significance in the larger group that is vital for a theology that considers the communal nature of identity.

Another aspect of the Cree language that illuminates a difference between English and Cree is the clusivity pattern in the language system. Again, this is a small detail, but taken as a whole the Cree language system or ‘game’ is primarily concerned with defining how people are related, and in maintaining those relationships. The Cree language includes not only the typical way of relating to other individuals with the use of “I, you, and we,” but also ‘we’ inclusive and ‘we’ exclusive.340 It is possible in Cree to indicate whether the one being spoken to belongs to the same group the speaker belongs to or not. In Cree, I could explain to you that “This is our house but not yours,” neekanan; or I could say, “This is our house including you,” by changing the preformatives and sufformatives of a word, keekinaw. This clusivity system makes communication possible for a communal oral culture. In Cree, there is no confusion in a story of who is being talked about and whom one is referring to. Confusion from statements such as “Bill saw Ted go into his house” does not happen in Cree. This aspect of language makes the telling of stories easier, for no one gets confused over the characters of the story.341 Thus, the Cree language is very well adapted to communicate story, which, in turn, helps to shape the community.

This difference in clusivity presented challenges in discussing the land with Cree Indigenous people when the Europeans came to the land now called Canada; they did not understand this difference in clusivity. Keith Goulet, a friend of mine, notes that this difference was lost on settlers who translated the two words nituskeenan and kituskeenuw both as simply ‘our land,’ when the former means ‘our land but not yours,’ and the latter means ‘everyone’s land.’342 However, even the idea of ‘our land but not yours’ means something different than European conceptions of ownership. As Jennifer Brown states:

These possessive markers, whether inclusive or exclusive do not define a bounded or enclosed space or outright ownership in European terms; rather they allude to the lands

340 Jean L. Okim*asis, Solomon Ratt, and University of Regina, Canadian Plains Research Center, Cree, Language of the Plains = N*ehiyaw*ewin, Paskw*awi-p*ikiskw*ewin, University of Regina Publications, 4 (Regina, SK: Canadian Plains Research Center, University of Regina, 1999), 19. 341 Spielmann, 'You're so Fat' : Exploring Ojibwe Discourse: 47. 342 Jennifer S.H. Brown, “Rupert's Land, Nituskeenan, our Land,” in New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, ed. Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan (Vancouver, BC: UBC Press, 2007), 25.

84 and waters that people know and use, radiating out from their core settlements and camping spots.343

The language not only differentiates group to group but also group to place. As Cree Elder Roan states:

We begin with place . . . place is the only way that we have of relating to reality. That is, we orient ourselves to reality through our senses, our mind, and our bodies, all of which are necessary to determine the truth about reality. These are not, however, set apart from the place that we are in when we discuss them.344

Place or land shapes the language and the thought of Indigenous people and forms one of the primary parts of Cree identity, but even then, the land or place is not divided from the mind or . Emotional states, as well as geographic locations, are considered part of reality.345 The category of for the West does not apply to the same kinds of things as it does in an Indigenous understanding of reality. As mentioned above, all things are viewed as part of the whole of reality, to be interpreted or understood to live a balanced or holistic life, one where all one’s relationships are being properly attended.

The land for Cree people and the relationship to land, as Neal McLeod observes, is how Cree people maintain and recover identity, and have the experience of being home: “Being home means to be a nation, to have access to the land.”346 This relationship with land is maintained through the language and stories of the Cree. Indigenous people had a relationship with the land and lived in a vital relationship with their environment. It was the land that culture and language come from, for “the land from which our culture springs is like the water and the air, one and indivisible.”347

The mixed-blood Métis people also developed this relationship with land, and it was this relationship with land that caused Indigenous Chief Shingwaukanse in 1830 to argue for the right of Métis people to have land. He stated that the Métis were part of his family; they were his relatives, but most importantly, that they lived “like Indians” upon the land.348 The land that became their homeland also became intricately related to the language, history and identity of the

343 Ibid. 344 Waugh and Roan, 8–9. 345 Ibid., 14. 346 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 54. 347 Manuel and Posluns, The Fourth World, 6. 348 Victor P. Lytwyn, “Echo of the Crane: Tracing Anishnawbek and Metis Title to Bawating (Sault Ste. Marie),” in New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, ed. Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan (Vancouver, BC: UBC Press, 2007), 51.

85 people.349 Even though the Métis people share Indigenous, French, Scottish, and English ancestry, as well as being either Catholic or Protestant, what made them an Indigenous people of the land called Canada was their relationship to and identity derived from the land. Land-based identity reveals a history of Indigenous people attempting to build a relationship with all who share the land. It also reveals that the Indigenous relationship with place or land is not limited exclusively to the original Indigenous people. It is a different relationship than private ownership or ruling over lands; however; it is a relationship that sees land as part of the family, part of communal identity.

Let me say again that Indigenous culture and language attempt to maintain a holistic identity. It attempts to describe the ‘whole’ of the situation. Holistic identity is emphasized by the fact that the Cree language is verb-based, which instils the idea of a group identity.350 Spielmann points out that verb-based languages such as Cree, Ojibwa, and other Algonquin languages try to describe the complex web of relationships that is reality. They do not attempt to dissect the actions into separate parts or entities but rather try to describe the process that is occurring as a whole.351 A people with a focus upon group identity will tend to view things as a whole and describe the motion that is occurring. Of course, this argument seems circular: the Cree focus upon the group identity and attempt to keep the whole in focus, and focusing upon the whole helps to maintain group identity. It is helpful to think in terms of identity being a description of what is occurring, of the process that is taking place, and identity, which includes all that, is reality.

Pedagogy and Perspective Further evidence of a Cree perspective on viewing the ‘whole’ comes from a traditional pedagogical approach among the Oji-Cree people. Elder Ed Wood talked to me about the tradition of “backward teaching.” This term applies to how people are taught to perform complex crafts or tasks: they learn from the end of the process to the beginning, so that the whole task is in view.

This holistic focus captures what Western pedagogy attempts to overcome in its problem with integration. Descartes’ methodological approach, particularly his second precept, “to divide each of the difficulties under examination into as many parts as possible,” continues to hold

349 Ray, I Have Lived Here Since the World Began, 1. 350 Spielmann, 'You're so Fat', 68. 351 Ibid.

86 significant influence in Western education.352 So, when teaching something new, Western education first teaches all about each piece of something, then the student learns to put the pieces together until they have mastered the bit of knowledge or task. If an apprentice were learning to trap based on this Western model, they would first learn the parts of the trap, and maybe learn to set a trap in a house somewhere. Then, they would learn all the different animals and how each one needs to be trapped. Once they have learned all the rudimentary skills, they then begin to learn the finer skills.

By contrast, in a backward teaching model, the apprentice would learn the last task—setting a trap—as the first thing. In trapping in the North, the last step is to cover the trap with snow or leaves, so the apprentice performs that step as the first thing and learns back from that point. In this way, the whole picture of trapping is slowly unravelled from the end to the beginning. Moreover, since the apprentice has seen the whole process, there is less resistance to the integration the new learning because the emphasis has been upon praxis from the outset. The learning is set not within an imaginary world, but the real world, doing the task that will result in success or failure—in this case, of making a living by trapping.

Seeing the whole, from the end to the beginning of the process, also proves helpful in regards to theology. For example, theology is descriptive and prescriptive. If we understand that part of the process in a group’s theology is to describe what we are doing, or what we have done to arrive at a particular theological doctrine, this description will aid us in two ways. First, if we can understand how we arrived at a particular theological proposition, then perhaps the proposition will not seem cut off from a context and perhaps can prove more useful and transferable to other groups in various places and times. This, after all, is the point of history. At the same time, reflecting upon what our theology is to be, and what it currently is, we can make corrections if needed. In other words, if our theology is focused upon what is occurring, this will serve as a diagnostic for how we are living according to what we say our theology involves.

Theology must be seen as a whole and as ultimately leading to living life in a good way, a way that glorifies God. Grenz and McClendon also note this idea. Grenz believed a proper theological approach to scripture would help sustain the believer for a life devoted to God.353 McClendon, by putting ethics first, was seeking to begin at the ending and work back to the beginning, showing

352 Rene Descartes, Discourse on Method and on First Philosophy, trans. Donald A. Cress, 4th ed. (Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1998), 11. 353 Grenz, “Nurturing the Soul, Informing the Mind,” 23–24.

87 he was attempting a more holistic approach to theology and the Christian life.354 Theology is about teaching Christians to follow the Jesus who is revealed by the canon of scripture.355

For Indigenous people, a person’s life reveals who they are. In my years as a First Nations pastor in a First Nations church, I observed that people seemed to pay greater attention to actions than to words. It was not who people said they were that revealed their identity; it was what they did. Your actions point out that you could say you are the leader,356 but do you act like the leader? For the Cree, a person’s identity was established by that person’s actions. From a Cree language point of view, I can describe what is going on inside of your mind by observing what you do, how you are living, who you are, and what you are saying. There is no other way to know you.

Watching to see if a person’s behaviour is in line with their words is noted in traditional Cree language regarding words that have been used to describe God, words such as Manito. The word refers only to the reality that has been experienced. As Waugh explains it, “So, that word is saying, ‘we see and feel a greatness, a beauty, a superior goodness around us, and we hold that these qualities are rooted in the way the universe is, and we call that Manito.’”357 From this, it is possible to see that identity is defined not only by the words a person claims about their identity but also by how that person lives the story of their life.

This way of viewing identity finds support from a particular reading of parts of the canon of scripture. For example, 1 John 1:6 points out that one must do the truth to speak the truth. The theological truth of your life is given validity by your actions bearing out the content of your words. There is praxis of theology present in 1 John that is similar to the praxis of identity within the Cree culture and language. McClendon would agree that character—how the person lives—is what makes theology important.358 As has already been stated, this can be seen in the way that ‘person’ is understood within the Cree language, and also in the naming process in traditional Cree culture. As one Cree informant states, “you do not get a name; you take a name.”359

To sum up, the language of Indigenous people is particularly adept at describing and maintaining relationships between the many parts of the whole. These relationships—group to group,

354 McClendon and Murphy, Ethics, 47. 355 Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr., “Systematic Theology. v 2, Doctrine,” Theology Today 52, no. 3 (1995). 356 I was priviledged to be acknowledged with a Mohawk name which means, “the one in front” or “the leader” because I was serving as an overseer of several First Nations churches across Canada from 1996–2004. 357 Waugh, “Religious Issues in the Alberta Elders’ Cree Dictionary,” 474. 358 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 35. 359 I heard this expression from Clifford George, a Cree person from Regina, Saskatchewan, circa 2000.

88 individual to individual, group and individual to the spiritual, and with land—play a significant role in the language, as will be seen in the practice of ‘naming’ people, places, and animals among the Cree. I turn to that practice now.

Name that Cree

The traditional Indigenous naming process had a variety of forms. While it is not the purpose of this work to discuss the full variety of naming ceremonies and practices, it is helpful to highlight some of the practices that are common knowledge. This will serve to underline the way in which name functions in Cree and Indigenous culture and how this differs from the Western reductionist practice of condensing the world to names or nouns. Paul Ricoeur’s work on metaphor reveals this Western tendency, and it will be explored in greater detail in chapter four. At this point, I examine how names are placeholders for a broader story.

In the book My Name is Piapot, the author draws attention to the practice of naming using Chief Piapot, who was a Treaty 4 signatory and respected chief, as an example.360 When he was born, he was given a name that meant “flash in the sky boy,” because there was a thunderstorm when he was born. When he came of age, he was given another name, which showed his unique ability and path for life. This shows how a person is given a name to fit with their developing character. It was common to be renamed whenever something occurred that had significance.

From the story of Piapot, several points arise about naming that prove helpful regarding the sense of identity, communal identity specifically. First, in the Cree context, a name is something that is conferred upon an individual by the community through one of its members, usually an elder. So, in the naming ceremony, something is done so that the name and the person become one. Is this not the same as the ceremony or promising something, as described by Austin?361 The community gives the name to the person. Thus, the name belongs to the community, and the name is given to the new member of the community. So, there is a sense of ownership by the community, by those giving the name to the individual, and the individual is taught to respect their name.362 This respect for their name is connected to how they live out their life.

360 W. P. Stewart, My Name Is Piapot (Maple Creek, SK: Butterfly Books, 1981). 361 J. L. Austin, How to do Things with Words, The William James Lectures, 1955 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962). 362 The ownership of names by the community is even more pronounced among the Mohawk, where at death, the person gives back their name to the commuity.

89 The name of the individual is not only a marker or symbol for the individual, because the name and the person have a vested interest in the community, as does the community in the name and the individual. Thus, there is a sense that the naming process is not yet complete with the simple ceremony of naming. There is an ongoing sense of communal interest in the individual and how they are living within the community. The Cree and other Indigenous groups also believe that naming associates an individual with a community and that names change as the individual’s identity continues to develop. This idea of naming is not foreign to Western theology; Hans Frei points out that at least as far as the person of Jesus is concerned, being named and taking a name identifies an individual with a community.363

The names of ancestors also serve as ways of proving the validity of stories. When a person is telling a story, they may first verify the story by telling whom they heard it from, whom that person heard it from, and so forth. The naming of places and ancestors can aid the retention of communal memory, preserved through the telling of stories, one generation to the next, in addition to verifying the ‘truth’ or reality of the story.

Returning to Piapot, the story illustrates that the initial name of the child reflects something that is occurring in the created order of things. In this way, the connection or relationship not only with the community but also with the larger creation has implications for the naming of a child. Furthermore, it illustrates that for Indigenous people creation is part of a child’s story. Grenz— and Jean-Francois Lyotard, whom he acknowledges—notes that when a child is named, that name is already a part of a story within a community.364 I would suggest that Indigenous people locate their story and community within the context of all of creation or land.

As mentioned above, the Cree and other Indigenous people attempt to describe the movement that is occurring around them and in them. It is a verbal language, and it focuses upon an ever- developing shared developed through an ongoing narrative that describes the movement or dynamics of a given context and the wisdom shared by all in that context.365 There is an emphasis upon the whole, and this idea of attempting to describe the whole and the movement occurring impacts the development of the idea of identity. As a result, the name of an individual is not limited to a single name. A name is part of being, but there could be more than a single name that reveals more of who this individual is. A name is more than a noun; it is a story

363 Frei, The Identity of Jesus Christ, 94–97. 364 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self, 135. 365 Wilson, 57.

90 within itself because of the broader context. As a Cree person grew and developed, they needed a new name to describe who they were, but also to remind them of who they were meant to be.

In the case of Chief Piapot, the name Piapot means a Cree who looks like a Sioux, or a Cree who has a hole in the Sioux.366 He got this name because when he was still quite young, his parents and much of his extended family died of smallpox. The Sioux367 (called this by the Cree, but they were probably Dakota) found him wandering on the prairie and adopted him. Later, when he was a teenager, his people recovered him, but by this time he looked like a Dakota in the way he dressed, his mannerisms, and probably his language. He also knew the religion of the Dakota or Sioux, and so he was thought to have an advantage over these traditional enemies of the Cree, and so he had a ‘hole’ in them. So, his name Piapot described who he was: he looked like a Sioux. At the same time, he was thought to have spiritual power. He had survived an outbreak of disease. He had learned the religion and ceremonies of his enemies; thus, he was marked as one who had special power or sacredness about him; he had a ‘hole’ in the Sioux, meaning he knew their power. So, his name reminded him of who he was. This mindfulness of identity is what is meant by “you do not get a name; you take a name.” You must live up to your name.

A name is not merely meant to designate the thought associated with the physical body of a person. Ricoeur points out that the physical body is a “basic particular.”368 He means that a person can be referred to in such a way as to be clear that a person has both body and thought. Ricoeur is pointing out that being does not merely reside in thought, as in the writing of Descartes, but in the body as well.369 Hans Frei notes that the words of a person, as well as their body, are tied to the person’s identity in society.370 The Cree conception of being includes thoughts, emotions, words, location, and body, all of which are primarily known through actions over time, thus names change because the person has grown or changed.

Again, one can observe a different perspective between the aboriginal and Western world in the emphasis placed upon defining identity. Ricoeur, Descartes and the Western philosophical tradition are consumed with defining the essence of a person, the basic particulars. Descartes, of

366 Stewart, My Name Is Piapot. 367 Sioux is a common name associated with the family of Indigenous nations also known as Lakota, Dakota, or Nakota, depending upon their dialect. Piapot was probably found by Dakota people, for these are the ones still located around Regina, Saskatchewan. 368 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 31. 369 Ibid. 370 Frei, The Identity of Jesus Christ, 99–100.

91 course, focuses upon the mind; Ricoeur reminds us that the body is a basic particular. The language of both reveals a perspective aimed at reducing identity to its parts, so there is a “taking away,” for the sake of analysis, of the parts that seem less important. Of course, Ricoeur is attempting to reunite the concept of identity, but he is still working with at only two parts of identity, thought and body. Contrast this with the Cree perspective whereby, because of a desire to describe what is occurring, to see and understand the whole, rather than reducing it to manageable parts, something is added to maintain the unity of the person: the community and their ongoing life and story. Thus, as a person matures, their name does not merely change, the old one passed away, but they take or receive another name that reveals, describes, and pulls them toward a state of existence.

We find this thinking about names in various places within the canon of scripture. Abram has his name changed to Abraham,371 as does Sarai372 to Sarah, reflecting something they were going to become. Jacob has his name changed to Israel to reflect who he was becoming.373 As Mohawk Catholic Sister Kateri Mitchell notes, Yahweh of the Old Testament is revealed through many names.374 These are examples of a name change that reflects a change in the individual or who the individual was becoming. At least, that is an Indigenous reading of the name change.

What is of interest at this point is that Jacob (called Israel) and Abram (called Abraham, the father of many nations), are examples of individual names that embed the concept of a larger group. Since there was a communal identity on the horizon—that in one person a whole group could be pictured—there must be some sense of group identity that can be seen to reside within an individual. Modern Western thought has had a propensity to cut off the individual from this group identity. So, while attempts are made to describe the communal nature of identity in political science or other disciplines, individual identity is what is at the forefront. There are other ways of viewing identity, however, and other ways of using language, that would be more conducive to the ongoing development of identity, both individual and communal, and which would result in an environment that is perhaps more fruitful in the development of Indigenous theology.

371 Genesis 17:5. 372 Genesis 17:15. 373 Genesis 32:28. 374 Treat, Native and Christian, 174–77.

92 Naming the Land The Indigenous practice of naming extends not just to people, but also to creatures and land, and this practice is also significant for Indigenous communal identity. As previously noted, land is always present in the stories of the people because the people and the land come into existence in a symbiotic relationship. The land not only sustains the people through its resources, but it is also the source of “metaphors, symbols, and narrative tradition to express their religious and philosophical views.”375 The land and its creatures were in a familial relationship with the people. While some Indigenous people’s clans trace their origins to a legendary ancestor, sometimes an animal, all trace their coming into being on the land. Connection to land continues to be a feature of current Indigenous identity in Canada. Whether they follow Christian tradition or traditional Indigenous religion or claim no religious affiliation, Indigenous people see themselves as people of this land now called Canada.

This practice of naming the land connects Indigenous people to it. Through the commoditized ownership model they brought with them, European settlers also connected to the land, renaming lands previously named by Indigenous peoples.376 In respect to private property and autonomy, McFadyen acknowledges that relationships with material objects and land are part of a socially constructed identity.377 Indigenous people are not opposed to naming land. What is interesting about Indigenous people’s naming of land is that “the land [takes] a name for itself,” either because of something that happened there or as a concrete description of the topography itself.378 For example, part of the drainage system of the Hudson Bay that was called Kinikimooshawow by the Cree or the “barren or treeless headland,” a simple, practical description of what the land looked like, was renamed after Queen Henrietta Maria by colonialists.379

Another example is the name of a river rapids, Sah-se-je-won, because that is the sound the water makes as it goes over the rocks. Thus, the name of one of Canada’s prairie provinces, Saskatchewan, is simply the anglicized version of this Ojibwa and Cree word for swiftly running water.380 Today, Indigenous people continue to use Indigenous names of land and/or topography

375 Ray, I Have Lived Here Since the World Began, 1. 376 Some place names in Canada do retain the Indigenous name, albeit in an anglicized version. 377 McFadyen, The Call to Personhood, 230. 378 Brown, “Rupert's Land, Nituskeenan, Our Land,” 23. 379 Ibid., 24. 380 George Copway, “The Traditional History and Characteristic Sketches of the Ojibway nation,” In CIHM/ICMH Microfiche series = CIHM/ICMH collection de microfiches ; no. 59357. (London, Edinburgh, Dublin: C. Gilpin, A. and C. Black. J.B. Gilpin, 1850), http://www.canadiana.org/ECO/mtq?doc=59357.

93 when they speak their language. Brown suggests that non-Indigenous people should learn these names as well because “Native names . . . are not translations but distinct terms that are functional for Indigenous life and travel and expressive of connection to places.”381

Indigenous people do not only name places for their topographical features; they also name places to recall significant events that occurred upon the land, events in both the individual and collective life of the people. As Ray would note, “The land was their history book.”382 By way of example, the place where the city of Regina now stands was named oskana or “pile of bones” because there were piles of plains buffalo bones at that place.383 Collective memory and interaction with the land is preserved in the language through story. It is through stories that Indigenous people remember their interaction with the land. Indigenous memory, particularly the Cree memory, is associated with stories about engagement with the land. According to McLeod, “The various place-names within Cree narrative form the basis for a shorthand encoding of experience, of various relationships, and the articulation of core Cree values and worldviews.”384 If you grew up on the land, when you hear the stories and hear place names you remember what happened. However, even if you did not grow up on the land, you remember by listening to the stories of the people of the land. In this way the connection with the land is maintained; not merely a utilitarian relationship, but a familial relationship with the land is preserved.

Relationship with land and creation can also be seen in the naming of animals. Again, it is possible to see in the language both respect and understanding of close connection with animals. Of course, it is possible to take respect for animals to the point where one wonders if they are not elevated above the level of human beings. In part, this can be explained through the lack of a full understanding of the language. Elder Ed Wood explained that some young people are confused because the word for life and spirit are the same in Cree; some believe that the Cree and Ojibwa were saying that the tree had a spirit or soul, but we were merely saying it was alive. At the same time, we respect creation and think that all of it is alive; there is life everywhere.

The Cree language, nehiwawewin, can also be translated as “the process of making Cree sounds.” This reminds us that we are living beings who make sounds like other living

381 Brown, “Rupert's Land, Nituskeenan, Our Land,” 23. 382 Ray, I Have Lived Here Since the World Began, 1. 383 “Oskana,” Waskana Centre, http://www.wascana.ca/index.php?id=82. 384 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 19.

94 creatures.385 In a similar way, many names of animals are rendered simply as the sound the animal makes or some physical characteristic it exhibits. The moose, for example, is called mooswa. If you have ever heard a bull moose in the fall, when it is in the rut or mating time, you will hear it call its name. If you see the weasel, seekoos, you will know why it is called a “little spitter”386 because it seems to be spitting when it makes noises. The “Hoot Owl, o-o-me-she; Owl, Koo-koo-ko-ooh,”387 are differentiated because of the sound they make.

The animals are relatives, or so it is imagined and should be respected. I grew up understanding from the time I made my first kill while hunting that we live because other animal relatives give their lives so that we can live. We should not take for granted what is needed so that we can live. Respect is central to both the naming and the hunting practices of the Cree and other Indigenous people. As well, animals and the land are part of the shared ontology or knowledge of creation. So, animals can teach us how all things work together on the land.388

The idea that animals and the rest of creation are in some sense in relationship with human beings is not foreign to Christian theology. The second creation account in Genesis 2 is a picture of the first human being giving names to the animals. The act of naming is often interpreted as an expression of humanity having dominion over the animals and the rest of Creation,389 but it is also possible to read this story with a perspective that human beings were acquainted with animals, and animals give themselves to human beings because this is the way the has made things. Francis of Assisi’s “Canticle of the Sun” uses familial language to describe the relationship to the earth using phrases such as “sister moon” and “mother earth” to make this point. Irenaeus acknowledges that Adam came forth from the virgin earth, and so Jesus came from the Virgin, which reveals an understanding of a close connection between human beings and all creation, and Christ of creation.390

The act of naming respects the otherness of all creation. As animals, with names, are distinct from people, human beings are distinct from the Creator. In the biblical narrative, human beings

385 Ibid., 6. 386 Arthur Noskey, personal conversation with author, 2009. 387 Copway, “The Traditional History and Characteristic Sketches of the Ojibway Nation,” 125. 388 Colin Scott, “Spirit and Practical Knowledge in the Person of the Bear Among Wemindji Cree Hunters,” (Routledge, 2006), 61. 389 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 35. 390 Alexander Roberts et al., The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Translations of the Writings of the Fathers Down to A. D. 325, vol. 1: The Apostolic Fathers: Justine Martyr- Irenaeus, Reprint 1975 ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1899), 448.

95 are called to understand and name the animals, to care for them, and to care for or till the soil.391 To Indigenous people, this all points to the importance of relationship, but also to an affirmation of Christian theology.

Finally, Indigenous people, and particularly the Cree, have names that have been translated and used for deity. Part of the difficulty with the name often used for God in Cree or Ojibwa is its translation. The word that is translated “God” is most often Mantou, but as Earle Waugh points out, “there was no English equivalent for Mantou, and there is not a one to one correspondence for meaning between Mantou and God. Rather, in context, it refers to a mysterious power; the context determines the meaning of the word.”392 In fact, there are a variety of ways of describing or naming God, spiritual forces, or beings in the Cree language. These also point to the kinship or wihtikohkan that Indigenous people cultivate with regard to all things.393

God, therefore, can be referred to in Indigenous thought and language with many names, all of which retain a sense of his loving concern for his creation.394 For example, the Osage name for deity, wakonda, refers to an invisible, creative power that is responsible for creation.395 Others may use the name ‘Grandfather’ to show respect for God. These reveal a desire on the part of Indigenous people to maintain good relationships with all things in the universe.

Indigenous people’s use of names and the act of naming itself reveal a deep respect for the other, a desire to maintain good relationships between people, creatures, land, and spiritual beings. This desire to maintain right relationships included newcomers to Canada, which can be observed in the treaty relationships. These relationships will be examined next.

Communal Identity: Treaty Relationships One last area to consider in describing an Indigenous communal or group identity concerns the role and place of Treaties. The discussion of treaty relationships between First Nations and the Crown, as represented by the federal government in Canada, illustrates how the focus of identity both individual and corporate will inform how one develops ethics and values within the context of one’s society. This latter point will become clear when considering the treaty and how the respective groups within Canada understand it when it comes to the topic of land. The use of

391 Granberg-Michaelson, Tending the Garden, 48. 392 Waugh, “Religious Issues in the Alberta Elders’ Cree Dictionary,” 473. 393 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory,14–15. 394 Treat, Native and Christian, 174–75. 395 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 57.

96 treaty between Indigenous people and European settlers changed and developed as time went on. It continues to be important to the relationships between the First Nations people and non- Indigenous Canadians.

Indigenous people historically had a form of group-to-group relationship that could best be described as a kind of treaty or even covenant. These treaty relationships pre-dated the coming of the Europeans to Canada. For example, the presence of the five nations396 referred to as the Iroquois is an example of how Indigenous people of Canada were already thinking of political alliances between different groups of people. As one Mohawk stated:

We Six Nations of Indians feel we have potentially a superior social system to that of the United States. If only we were left alone, we could redevelop our society . . . which was old in democracy when Europe knew only monarchs.397

Treaties were part of the First Nations’ way of relating around military associations and diplomacy.398 Treaty was a way of forming agreements between family clans and also between large tribal confederacies. The treaty was the way to forge relationships for trade while also maintaining the distinctiveness of particular peoples. This way of relating to other people flows out of a First Nations understanding of how the Creator was in relationship with people. Thus, treaties had spiritual implications.399

This Indigenous understanding of treaty in what became Canada formed the basis for the relationships between Indigenous people, particularly First Nations and Inuit, and the newly emerging British-then-Canadian governments. The Canadian government, however, did not always share this understanding of treaty, and in the minds of First Nations people ideas and practices around treaty-making were continuing to develop. What treaty means to Indigenous people, according to James R. Miller, has evolved in its meaning and use, but treaties have always represented a desire for a harmonious relationship, and that goes beyond mere co- existence. Treaty is an attempt to cultivate a shared identity. The treaty process evolved from friendship pacts (as in the Treaty for Peace and Friendship, 1752) to land-related compacts or

396 Later known as the Six Nations because the Tuscarora were welcomed during colonial expansion. 397 Sierra Adare, Mohawk (New York: Garth Stevens Publishing, 2003), 21. 398 J. R. Miller, “Compact, Contract, Covenant: The Evolution of Indian Treaty-Making," in New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, ed. Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan (Vancouver, British Columbia: UBC Press, 2007), 66–68. 399 Ron F. Laliberte, Expressions in Canadian Native Studies (Saskatoon: University of Saskatchewan Extension Press, 2000), 232–64.

97 simple contracts to a form of covenant.400 A quick historical overview of the process would help to explain the nature and importance of treaty for Indigenous people in Canada and Indigenous communal identity.

The earliest agreements or treaties in Canada were centred on the fur trade. In the 1600s European traders realized, even though “given the right to the land by Charles II,” that harmonious relationship with the Indigenous people would be advantageous for the fur trade.401 Again, this was in keeping with pre-existing ways of trading prior to the coming of the Europeans. First Nations had established routes from East to West, which the European fur traders used for their advantage.402 Arthur Ray notes that the First Nations were at the centre of the fur trade; Europeans were in this sense reliant upon the Indigenous people for economic fortune.403 Thus, the Hudson Bay Company, for one, entered into kinds of agreements or treaties with the First Nations people.

The Hudson Bay Company was the dominant fur-trading company in North America. Part of its function was to secure British holdings in North America.404 The Hudson Bay Company was given the right to make treaties with First Nations tribes on behalf of the British. Since the European policy of making trade agreements with Indigenous groups can be traced back to at least the 1200s, it made sense that the Hudson Bay Company would use the same approach in Canada. They adapted, however, to the practices of the First Nations in Canada by using First Nations ceremonies, such as the pipe ceremony, and other protocols to make such alliances. These protocols and ceremonies were to be repeated yearly, to show that the agreement or relationship was still in place.

Treaty-making would become more complex as contact between the Indigenous people and Europeans lengthened. Two significant and early alliances or treaties were the “Two Row Wampum” and the “Great Peace of Montreal.” The Dutch and the Iroquois entered the “Two Row Wampum” treaty in the seventeenth century. When the British took control of the territory in 1664, the Iroquois assumed that the British had inherited the treaty, which was a partnership between sovereign nations of people, respecting one another’s differences and promising not to

400 Miller, “Compact, Contract, Covenant,” 66. 401 Ibid. 402 Laliberte, Expressions in Canadian Native Studies, 236. 403 Arthur J. Ray, Indians in the Fur Trade: Their Role as Trappers, Hunters, and Middlemen in the Lands Southwest of Hudson Bay, 1660–1870 (Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1998), 228. 404 Laliberte, Expressions in Canadian Native Studies, 236–38.

98 interfere with one another. In 1701 the “Great Peace of Montreal” secured peace between the French, and their allies, and the Iroquois. Both are examples of peace and friendship treaties.405

This practice of making treaties using Indigenous protocols and ceremonies would mean much more to First Nations than to government officials. It maintained an understanding among First Nations that there were spiritual implications to the treaty.406 It further revealed that Europeans were adapting, or attempting to adapt, to the practices of the people who had originally inhabited the land, in a sense acknowledging that Indigenous people and the use of the land and were interrelated.

However, as the fur trade was losing its economic significance, more Europeans wanted to come to the new land and settle. Land, therefore, needed to be taken from the Indigenous people. The desire for Europeans to own land, which had the potential to lead to violence and unscrupulous land dealings, led the Crown to issue the Royal Proclamation of 1763 forbidding private citizens from buying or taking land from Indigenous people. Land could be surrendered only through negotiations with the Crown. The Royal Proclamation was made not because the Crown recognized Indigenous title, but because it recognized Indigenous people as in need of protection. The government of the dominion of Canada, however, did not see treaty as a way to ensure the survival of First Nations; rather, treaty was a way for them to extinguish Indigenous title to land in order to make it available for settlers and agricultural development.407 Concurrently, Indigenous people began to see the need for treaty for the survival of their people and a way of life connected with land.

Miller notes the change that occurred after the Royal Proclamation, which had enshrined Indigenous right to land in British understanding. According to many Indigenous people, First Nations people understood the Royal Proclamation as a treaty. Protocol by the First Nations would assign treaty status to the Royal Proclamation itself, when “in 1764 William Johnson, Britain’s superintendent of the northern Indians, called together some two thousand First Nations representatives from districts from Nova Scotia to the Mississippi, explained the contents of the Proclamation, and procured their agreement to them.”408 Although it might not have been in

405 Miller, “Compact, Contract, Covenant,” 74. 406 Ibid., 83–84. 407 Arthur J. Ray, The Canadian Fur Trade in the Industrial Age (Toronto ; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1990), 30. 408 Miller, "Compact, Contract, Covenant: The Evolution of Indian Treaty-making," 78.

99 William Johnson’s mind that he was setting the stage for treaty development, the Royal Proclamation “became a treaty protected by Section 35 of Canada’s 1982 Constitution Act.409”

After the Royal Proclamation, treaties became associated primarily with land transfer. At first, these were simple, and it is at this time they were closest to simple contracts. However, a more thoroughgoing change occurred in 1818, when the government, wanting to save money by not paying lump sums for the surrender of land, decided to pay annuities to First Nations people for the use of land.410 In the minds of First Nations people, these yearly annuities were a return to the earlier friendship and peace agreements; thus, simple land-exchange was made more complex. The land was at the forefront of the concerns of the Canadian government: land for its new settlers and citizens. Relationship was still important for the First Nations, and as the settlers moved west, relationships not only with the newcomers but also with the land necessitated even more treaties.411 It was at this time that the numbered treaties of Western Canada came to be considered covenants by the First Nations people.

According to Miller, the “numbered treaties concluded in the West between 1871 and 1877 introduced a third category of treaty: the covenant.”412 The government of Canada did not see it this way, and would argue right through the twentieth century that the treaties were only contracts between two human parties; by contrast, the Western First Nations considered the treaties as three-way agreements between the First Nations, the Crown, and Deity, who “participates and provides oversight.”413 Thus, for First Nations, treaty was not like a contract but like a covenant that binds the parties together and makes the partnership or relationship more important than the terms of any contract. Again, relationship is what was important for First Nations, and these treaties meant that the Crown had entered a family relationship with the First Nations.

Again, the protocol and ceremony surrounding the treaty were evidence that the treaty was a covenant—at least for the First Nations. It was not just the ceremonies and protocol of the First Nations that gave the impression of the spiritual nature of treaties; the other participants in treaty-making gave every indication that the treaty was a covenant kind of relationship. For

409 Ibid. 410 Ibid., 80–81. 411 Ibid., 80. 412 Ibid., 83. 413 Ibid.

100 example, the treaty commissioners took part in the pipe ceremony, 414 which the treaty commissioners may have thought was only a gesture of friendship, except that for First Nations people the Creator or Great Spirit also smokes the pipe, and in so doing binds the participants in a sacred relationship.415 The presence of priests and missionaries as interpreters, who insisted that the negotiations adhere to keeping the Lord’s Day, also left the impression with the First Nations that the newcomers believed that the same sacred meaning was attached to the treaty. The presence of priests and missionaries, some of whom signed as witnesses to the treaty, could also be understood as the Church acting as a guarantor of the treaties.

Finally, the commissioners themselves used the Great Spirit or Creator in their arguments as to why the First Nations should allow settlers on the land. They pointed out that the Creator was the real owner of the land. Thus, it can be expected that the First Nations believed they were entering a sacred long-term relationship with the newcomers to this country.416 In his use of the term “covenant,” Alexander Morris described the treaty as something that would last forever.417 Not only were the settlers now co-inhabitants, but the Queen, kihci-miyikowisyahk (which can be rendered “an older woman who is rich in relatives”), and all her subjects were understood to be part of the First Nations family through the covenant of treaty.418

A treaty, then, was a way for different groups of people to negotiate the right to live in the land and make use of its resources. As such, the First Nations of Canada signed and continue to sign treaties between themselves and the Crown, represented now by the Canadian government, as nation-to-nation. The Indigenous idea was that of mutual responsibility to Creation so that people could live long in the land. Harvey Fiet makes the point that even in twentieth-century Canada, the Quebec Cree believed that each group has a right to live off the abundance of the land, but they also have a responsibility not to abuse the land or other groups living on the land.419 In Fiet’s words:

414 Alexander Morris writes, for example, that he accepted the pipe from the Cree. Alexander Morris, The Treaties of Canada with the Indians of Manitoba and the North-West Territories : Including the Negotiations on Which They Were Based, and Other Information Relating Thereto (Toronto: Belfords, Clarke, 1880; repr., 2014). 415 Ibid., 84. 416 Miller, "Compact, Contract, Covenant: The Evolution of Indian Treaty-making,"84 417 Morris. 418 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory : From Treaties to Contemporary Times: 47. 419 Harvey A. Fiet, "Hunting and the Quest for Power: The James Bay Cree and Whitemen in the Twentieth Century," in Native Peoples: The Canadian Experience, ed. R. Bruce and C. R. Wilson Morrison (Toronto: McCelland and Stewart, 1986), 182.

101 Cree society is organized around principles of community, responsible autonomy, and reciprocity. The central resources of land and wildlife are not considered to be owned because people are born and die while the land continues. The land is passed on from previous generations and will be transmitted to future generations. The land and the animals are God's creations, and, to the extent that humans use or control them, they do so as part of a broad social community united by reciprocal . These gifts and obligations are not solely individual; they involve the wider human community as well, so that all people have a right of access to land and resources to sustain themselves. The right extends to all Cree and to others as well, but along with the rights go responsibilities to contribute to the continued productivity of the land and animals. The exercise and fulfillment of such responsibility requires knowledge and a subtle responsiveness to the relationships with animals and spirits and implies a willingness to exercise self-control and participation in a community of responsibility.420

Fiet goes on to describe how the Quebec Cree took the provincial government to court to halt the development of a hydro project that would have destroyed traditional hunting grounds for many Cree people.421 The Cree were not opposed to hydro projects but to the lack of consultation by the government with the Cree as a people. The Canadian government, like much of the modern world, places greater importance upon the respect of individual rights to electrical power over the respect of a traditional people group living on the land, even if a treaty had been entered into which affirmed and respected both groups.

Because the Canadian government has not viewed treaty in the same way as Indigenous people, there continues to be disagreement over the issue of land.422 Even though land use was acknowledged by the Royal Proclamation in 1763, the Canadian government has resisted defining how and what this pre-existent use of land amounts to with regard to present-day Indigenous land.423 The Canadian government continues to advocate a view of land build upon the rubric of private ownership, as espoused by Locke and Hobbes, whereby commodification of the land is of primary concern for civilization. Indigenous people, on the other hand, have a different conception of land flowing from a focus upon group identity in which land is not viewed as a commodity, but rather part of the group identity. A communal relationship with land is one that is resistant to a Western concept of private ownership. Private ownership, as espoused by Locke in his work, is an effective understanding for a society that values the autonomous

420 Ibid. 421 Ibid. 422 Charles E. Hendry, Beyond Traplines: Does the Church Really Care?: Towards an Assessment of the Work of the Anglican Church of Canada with Canada’s Native Peoples (Toronto: Anglican Book Centre, 1998), 35. 423 See Kent McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90’s: Has the Supreme Court Finally Got It Right?,” 12th Annual Robarts Lecture (York Univresity, Toronto, ON, 1998).

102 individual. It is not as applicable when trying to define the relationship between land and a people that places greater value on its corporate identity, which is inclusive of the land.

Thus, the West views the treaty as a contract to be honoured between the Federal and provincial governments and each one of its citizens. There is a focus upon private ownership, individual rights, and the rule of law as applied to individuals. By contrast, the First Nations view the treaty as a covenant to be lived out and honoured between the peoples who have taken that treaty. Cree elders call the treaty sacred, but it is not sacred in the way that some use that term in the modern world. The document itself is not sacred; the paper and ink on it are not sacred, nor are subsequent copies, but the relationship is sacred. Treaties call for a relationship of nations with nations in shared space or shared land, but the modern Canadian government has trouble balancing that with individual rights. As such, the Canadian government thinks in terms of contractual obligations to and upon individuals; Indigenous people think in terms of group to group, and they continue to strive toward a shared identity based upon the idea that relationship is both sacred and necessary in order to share the land.

Chapter three will elaborate upon the Indigenous idea of treaty as being a form of group narrative. The treaty process—signing and keeping the covenant of treaty—could be considered an Indigenous call to a shared narrative that would keep harmony with each group and the land.

Summary

Indigenous identity is communal and includes a particular understanding of land as being in some sense part of Indigenous communal identity. This squares with Western theologians’ critique of the individualization and egocentrism of modern conceptions of identity. This critique resonates with Indigenous conceptions of communal identity. Indigenous understandings extend and emphasize the role that local place or land plays in the development and maintenance of that identity.

Bonhoeffer’s observation that the Christian life is found to require a communal context to maintain relationships would be affirmed and extended by Indigenous people. They consider the development of these relationships, in specific places, as sacred and essential to the relationships themselves, since the renewing of relationships with others through ceremony and protocol must take place at some spatial location.

103 Indigenous people would concur with the need for the spiritual to be part of identity. They would also add that this experience of the spiritual, or communion with the transcendent, occurs in the normal world; it occurs in a place. Places have names because at certain places there was an experience of kitchi or spiritual communion. If this communion takes place upon the land, then land must be considered sacred—not so that it is idolized, but so that one retains respect for land, for kitchi that may be experienced there. Sacredness applies to North America, not only or simply the land described in Christian scriptures.

Macmurray’s criticism of the Western egocentric conceptions of identity resonates with the Indigenous understanding of a person being more than their thoughts, but also their actions. Indigenous people would say that a person must watch to see if someone who claims to be spiritual is truly spiritual. A truly spiritual person is one who seeks to maintain personal relationships with others.

Indigenous people would extend the idea of mother/child relationship to the earth expressed by Macmurray to land. The land provides for the people and is treated with respect, like a mother. The personification of land, of course, is resisted by Western theology because of the fear of pantheism. However, Indigenous language, particularly Cree, does not equate spiritual with divine since respecting something does not mean worshipping it. The essence of respect here is simply that Indigenous people are attempting to live in a good way upon the earth for the sake of present and future generations. Indigenous people understand that there is a difference between people and non-human creatures and the rest of creation; however, this difference does not equate to a hierarchy.

McFadyen, as well as Gunton, note that in the history of the West there is a constant struggle in the relationship between the individual and the group. McFadyen’s solution is to understand that identity is a dialogue and dialectic with others. The person is shaped by their dialogue or communication with others, which includes their communication with God.

The naming practice of Indigenous people ensures that people retain their own distinct identity distinct from one another, yet also provides for clarity of identity within the community. Treaty functions to extend this idea beyond the individual-to-individual to include group-to-group as well. This idea of group-to-group relationships being a part of identity is emphasized by Pannenberg; the concept has not been absent from Western thought, but it has been eclipsed by freedom and independence of the individual as the ultimate concern, which has set the individual

104 over against community.424 Pannenberg echoes the concern that peoples’ destiny is to move toward community: individual-to-individual to form community, community-to-community to form a nation, and then nation-to-nation.425 This later idea of nation-to-nation is the ideal pursued within the treaty relationship in Canada, a relationship of which the Cree are a part and which has a long history, as evidenced by the Six Nations confederacy, the , and numerous peace treaties between tribal or Native American nations. While colonial nations were about building nation-states, they did not want to extend the designation of nation to Indigenous groups of people. There was an assumption that Indigenous groups were too primitive to conceive of nationhood.426

Pannenberg, speaking primarily in terms of one individual to another, discusses the idea of the relationship between individuals, which points to the importance of each party in the relationship acknowledging the other as a person.427 Paul, at his turn, uses the idea of ‘the new man’ to describe the coming together of Jew and Gentile into a new person (Ephesians 2:15). He is thinking in terms of group identity and the relationship between two groups of people, coming into a new sense of unity and community that is the Church—a unity that does not preclude the presence of Jewish or Gentile cultural distinctiveness. Taken this way, Paul is saying to both Jew and Gentile not to look down upon one another, but to be in harmony with one another. The Jerusalem council comes to the same conclusion about the inclusion of the Gentiles in the Church. They are not to become Jewish but to be who God in Christ made them be (Acts 15:13ff).428

A proper understanding of the doctrine of the Trinity creates a relational frame for a communal identity centred in the community of creation. God creates by his out of love, which means creation is contingent upon God’s will. As such, there is unity in creation, all things sharing the experience of being created. God is transcendent yet is immanent through the Son and the Spirit, who are involved in creation. Humanity is responsible for maintaining the perfection of creation by exercising dominion, which is not to be a utilitarian approach to

424 Pannenberg, What is Man? 7. 425 Ibid., 83. 426 See pages 11–38 of Marie Battiste, Reclaiming Indigenous Voice and Vision (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2000) for an extensive essay about commonwealth treaty and its similarities and differences to aboriginal treaty. 427 Pannenberg, What is Man? 85. 428 One wonders if the Jerusalem council, in recommending certain prohibitions to the Gentile church, took them from the Noahic covenant. The important point is that the Jerusalem Church takes the New Covenant as binding upon the Gentiles as well as the Jews.

105 creation but rather a responsible cultivation of the earth. Drawing forth what is best from the earth is reliant upon a holistic engagement with all the primary relationships that make up identity.

Indigenous people would agree that failure to maintain a proper relationship between the individual and the group has dire consequences. Group identity is a significant focus of Indigenous people, and as such it impacts how they order their lives, including how they understand title to land within the treaty relationship: seeing the land itself as part of the group identity. This group identity is a greater focus of concern for Indigenous theology than Western propositional truth. For this reason, a narrative approach to scripture is more effective in the ongoing development of Indigenous Christian identity and Indigenous Christian theology—not stopping with Indigenous Christian identity in exclusion to non-Indigenous Christian identity but pushing toward a shared identity. To share the land, there needs to be a new shared story that is tied to the land and the participants of the treaty.

Community is possible and necessary because of our created nature. Jesus makes community possible through creation and redemption. All this occurs in the context of the Church, which is a distinct social group of at least two or more persons, located in a particular cultural context. The interplay between scripture, theological heritage, and contemporary culture provides individuals with the opportunity to develop a Christian identity that pushes toward their eschatological ecclesial identity. This identity is the hope of individuals who seek a proper relationship with the triune God, other individuals, and creation.

Indigenous people would agree that one must strive to live in good relationship with God, others, and creation. However, they assume that it is also how one must live now. As such, they work from the position that there is a relationship with the other, and one must work to maintain this relationship. In this way, they would see themselves as being in relationship with all, including those who are outside of the Church.

Identity cannot be separated from the convictional community. Every community has a story and convictions that one must hold in order to belong to the community. For Christian communities, convictions are the result of a long relationship with the gospel. From time to time, there are individuals whose story is paradigmatic for the community. As the story of the individual’s life is recounted, others are inspired to live out the ideals of the community. This biographical theology aims at building character, which serves as the basis for ethics in the community.

106 Convictional dialogue is based upon a pluralism of respect but aims at genuine dialogue over the suitability of each group’s convictions to result in a genuine communal identity that lives out an ethical life. Navajo culture or story, as a biography, might inspire the West to rethink their ideas about how all things are related and thus the importance of working toward holistic relationships. Creation stories connect Indigenous people to a place, to live in a good way on the earth, or to have a culture, which is religious (Indigenous people would say spiritual). Life is lived in a body that is located in a specific place.

In the next chapter, the ethics and pragmatics of how story ‘works’ in the context of Indigenous people will be explored, with an emphasis upon how this informs an Indigenous context so as to prove helpful in the development of an Indigenous theology. Indigenous Christian theology is still a challenge because the question is still being asked, can the gospel story, mired as it is in Western thought, be read as an Indigenous Christian story?

CHAPTER 3

Indigenous Identity: A Narrated Community

This chapter will explore how story functions to develop and maintain identity in an Indigenous North American context, which necessitates an elevation of the role of narrative for theological reflection. An examination of the Indigenous story reveals an interplay between storyteller and community, which supports the thesis that Indigenous people have an expanded sense of communal identity, and that story is the language of such an Indigenous community. This thesis can be seen in how story maintains the significant relationships for Indigenous people, which in turn further develops the philosophical basis for the importance of story for theological reflection in an Indigenous context.

Since Indigenous identity is dependent upon an Indigenous approach to story, then to develop an Indigenous Christian identity narrative must be placed in a privileged position. However, as mentioned in chapter one, the modern quest for objective truth has biased many theologians toward reducing the gospel story or the canon of scripture to proposition, which has resulted in the gospel story being distanced from the Indigenous community. The emphasis by evangelical mission on ‘eternal truths,’ as experienced by First Nations people, although reflecting a laudable desire to ensure orthodoxy, has presented a barrier to the development of an Indigenous Christian communal theology. Proposition and objective truth are still important. For example, McClendon makes clear that convictions, which could be expressed as propositions and yet go further than proposition, are significant for community because they shape the lives of the members of the community.429 Thus, each community must go through the process of developing or affirming convictions to preserve the interplay between the gospel story or canon of scripture and the community. At the same time, the Cree are hesitant to break apart their narrative to isolate facts, and perhaps this would apply to convictions as well. The story remains most important to communicate the identity of the people. The Indigenous community must own the gospel story, or it remains something introduced and owned by outsiders.

At the same time that the propositionalists are attempting to affirm true propositions, the classic Western liberal theological focus on the autonomous individual experience, which attempts to

429 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 22. 107 108 prove the meaningfulness of the scriptures, also ends up “eclipsing the biblical narrative.”430 The push toward individualism does not result in a communal story of holistic identity, but ends in fragmented selves, as each jostles for a particular individual experience. However, the liberal approach to the gospel does seek to acknowledge the complexity of identity and the fact that, in some sense, an individual borrows from outside the confines of a religious tradition in order to understand the gospel. The community will shape how the gospel is experienced and must do so for the gospel to be understood by the community. In a sense, a liberal theological turn is useful for its pluralistic approach because it still is centred in a Western conception of identity. Indigenous people prefer a decentred view of authority, but their individual experience is always mindful of all other communal relations.431 Thus, an Indigenous approach to narrative and theology must take seriously how Indigenous story works. Remembering Grenz’s comments that for theology to be local it must take seriously how identity is developed in a context,432 in an Indigenous context, there is a way in which narrative or story works.

Recalling that this thesis is attempting to show the significance of Indigenous identity and theology, it is important to reiterate the tension of trying to dialogue between academic theology and Indigenous Christian spirituality. Spirituality would be the preferred term for many Indigenous and non-Indigenous people to describe their journey on this earth, but this thesis is attempting to bring together Indigenous communal identity and Academic Christian theology because the latter represents a category that continues to be dominated by Western . This thesis is focused upon the intersection of the gospel and Indigenous identity. Indigenous spirituality encompasses a broad movement, much of which would not call itself Christian. Mine is an attempt to describe or propose a place within Christian theology for Indigenous voices, but also to show the contribution that Indigenous theology makes to the Church worldwide.

In one sense, this process of opening the ‘canon’ of Western theology could be construed as an ongoing process of decolonization. However, this work is not attempting to carve out a niche within the theological body of work that might be called Indigenous Theology, so as not to assign or maintain a label that in the past has been used to marginalize Indigenous theology.433 Rather, the desire is to show the suitability of Indigenous theology for the entire theological

430 Hans W. Frei, The Eclipse of Biblical Narrative: A Study in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Hermeneutics (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1974), 90. 431 Preston, 78. 432 Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology: A Fresh Agenda for the 21st Century: 98. 433Tienou, “Indigenous Theologizing: From the Margins to the Center.”

109 enterprise. This thesis is not an endeavour to liberate Indigenous theology from Western oppression; it is an attempt to reach a fourth world where Indigenous people and non-Indigenous voices can exist in a mutually enriching relationship, which is an example and affirmation of the covenant conception of treaty. This thesis is an academic examination of the viability of the Indigenous category of story for theology that will engender this kind of relationship.434 This implication of Indigenous narrative and communal identity for theology will be further developed in chapter five.

Also, looking ahead, chapter four will present a critical appropriation of the postmodern turn in hermeneutics, focusing primarily upon the work of Paul Ricoeur. His thoughts about a “surplus of meaning” allow room for an Indigenous voice, which, when heard, opens new possibilities for an enhanced theological enterprise.

The present chapter will focus on the characteristics of Indigenous story. Having made a case for First Nations communal identity that includes land, I want to focus on the story as the communal language of this “group.” The stories of Indigenous people form the basis for their identity, and so form the categories of identity. However, what do I mean by Indigenous story or narrative?

There are a variety of sources that one can explore to gain a better understanding of Indigenous narrative; therefore, it is necessary to explain the area of examination for this thesis. This thesis focuses primarily upon the oral nature of Indigenous story, particularly how narratives continue to play a role in the development of Indigenous identity, which therefore will play a significant role in the development of Indigenous theological reflection.

In saying the focus of this section of the thesis is upon the communal function of narrative and oral narratives, however, this thesis is not only concerned with Indigenous narrative categorized as founding myths. Some relegate all Indigenous stories to the category of myth, but the category of Indigenous narrative also could include histories, shared memory, and ceremonies, as well as the process of making and keeping treaty. Grand myths do play a role in Indigenous culture, but this thesis is not advocating replacing the Christian scriptures with Indigenous myths, or regarding the Christian scriptures only as a form of myth that contains no truth. Eugene Peterson observes that when myth is defined as a process of watching the ‘gods,’ then we are just an observer who, at best, gains a moral or two from our observation and, at worst, might be lapsing

434 Manuel and Posluns, The Fourth World, 6.

110 into paganism.435 His concern was that the gospel story might be reduced to myth, not unlike . Modern people may read Greek mythology, but they do not see themselves as being part of the myth, merely observers of the Greek gods.

In the same way, some might relegate Indigenous stories to the category of myth, regarding them as merely something that people used to believe, and that might be helpful to understand how primitive people used to think. The danger of this thinking is pointed out by Sophie McCall commenting on a Canadian judge who wanted to dismiss Indigenous story as legend in order to dismiss it as evidence to determine territorial boundaries. “For McEachern, legends exist beyond time or place or measurements . . . I am not able to accept . . . oral traditions as a reliable basis for detailed history.”436

However, for Indigenous people, story continues to be a prime carrier of identity. In story, including grand stories or Indigenous creation myths, Indigenous people can locate their ancestors and themselves. Even though there are obvious fictional characteristics involved in story, Indigenous story has historical implications in that it serves to maintain current Indigenous identity. This process includes the appropriation of the gospel story by Indigenous communities, because if Indigenous people cannot see themselves in the gospel story, then the gospel story has become a “myth,” as defined by Peterson. Thus, an examination of the way Indigenous story works will prove fruitful for the theological enterprise because it may produce free space in which it is possible to collaborate on a more inclusive Western theology.437 This free space is the distance between Indigenous spirituality contained in an Indigenous approach to story and academic theology.

This section of the thesis is a discussion of how Indigenous stories function to form identity. It is not an attempt to catalogue a set of traditional Indigenous stories that make up sacred stories for Indigenous people. Rather, it is an attempt to illustrate that story and narrative continue to be vital for Indigenous identity. Therefore, this thesis will present examples of Indigenous narrative

435 Eugene H. Peterson, Jim Lyster, and John Sharon, Subversive Spirituality (Vancouver, BC: Regent College Bookstore, 1994), 4–5. 436 Sophie McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 309. 437 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 318.

111 from antiquity as well as contemporary narratives to establish that Indigenous identity and story are not located in an idealized, romanticized past.438

Some of these contemporary examples examine the attack on Indigenous communal identity by colonial and neo-colonial Canada. The purpose of this examination is not to prove the culpability of colonialism in Canada, but rather to note that in the ongoing relationship between Indigenous peoples and the Canadian courts and government, the tension over identity is magnified. This tension highlights the difference of focus that exists within an Indigenous conception of identity and reality. As one observes Canadian attempts to assimilate First Nations people into a liberal democratic society, one can observe the focus of identity for Indigenous people as well as alternative categories of identity important for the Canadian liberal body politic.439 In some of these examples, one can observe how some of the best of non-Indigenous Canadian society still have difficulty hearing Indigenous voices regarding an Indigenous communal identity that includes relationships with people and peoples, land or creation, and spiritual beings, because those voices come in the form of ceremony and songs located within a larger story.440

Indigenous Narrative Identity

Indigenous people use a narrative approach to order their lives, develop character, and to maintain the primary relationships of one’s life. Indigenous people use stories to pass on a shared memory of being in relationship with spiritual beings, other individuals, and groups, as well as land. For this thesis, the focus is primarily upon the oral or performative nature of Indigenous narrative because it captures the sense in which narrative is a communal function.

As well, Indigenous story holds a sacred place among Indigenous people, although, as noted earlier, “sacred” is not used in the same sense as some regard the Christian scriptures to be sacred. For example, Paul Ricoeur points out that scripture forms a set of sacred texts for Protestants with the result that the text is frozen in time, which limits communal reading.441 John

438 Even today, romatic notions about Indigenous people persist. “Native hobbyists” attempt to follow what they precieve to be traditional First Nations teachings. However, the fact that they identify traditions from the distant past as normative reveals they view Indigenous tradition as static instead of dynamic. 439 Liberal is not referring to the Liberal Party of Canada, but to the liberal democratic political system in Canada and much of the West. 440 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 311. 441 Paul Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred: Religion, Narrative, and Imagination, trans. David Pellauer, ed. Mark I. Wallace (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), 70.

112 Borrows notes that Indigenous people access their history and wisdom through story,442 and because these stories are oral, they do not form a codified set of texts. Indigenous ceremonial stories have a common form and content; however, there is still flexibility because they are story and not a set of principles. Thus, the control the story exerts is not a legal authority or legislated authority, but a moral authority with which the community has vested it. This moral authority could be construed as passive in that it does not exercise control by coercion, but it does exert control of consequence since the story itself will fade from existence if it is violated. If the story is reduced to concepts, it fades from sight. If the story is altered so that it no longer resembles anything that was ever spoken by Indigenous people, then both the people of the story and the story itself fade from view. Thus, the desire to maintain identity, and to even survive as a people, is vested in story. First Nations life is lived within or according to story, and thus it is not difficult to see why it is important that theology, in all its descriptive and prescriptive elements, is closely linked to Indigenous story. As well, an Indigenous evangelical Christian theology must be lived in close relation to the gospel story. If the gospel story can be told as Indigenous story, then Indigenous community can enter into the gospel story.

The ethics of storytelling among Indigenous people may vary from tribe to tribe, but there are some constants regarding how story functions. The ethics of storytelling may help to guide the process of doing a communal theology in its attempt to shape and inform a Christian Indigenous identity. For the purpose of this thesis, the ethics of story will be examined according to two aspects. First, the ethics of story are concerned with the “craft” of storytelling as well as the content of story. There is a proper way that a story is told and remembered, how it maintains its integrity or “identity.” The second aspect or way of looking at story involves the ethics of relationship or the purpose of the story. The second category of ethics has to do with maintaining an Indigenous identity. Of course, there is overlap between these two aspects of story, but this construct will help to describe a relationship between the identity of story and the identity of a people. The relationship between story and person forms the third level of relationship.

George Lindbeck’s idea of intratextuality, or Ricoeur’s interplay of horizons, the latter of which will be investigated in greater detail in the fourth chapter, is similar to this interplay. Ricoeur will prove a better fit because of his openness to the role of as well as his emphasis on what is included in “textuality.” Ricoeur provides a philosophical description of how identity shapes

442 John Borrows, Recovering Canada: The Resurgence of Indigenous Law (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002), 14.

113 story as well as how story shapes identity. Lindbeck is also helpful in his emphasis on the importance of the community for forming the narrative of the gospel but is less helpful because of his brevity in explaining how Indigenous people can tell the gospel story in their context and not be overwhelmed by the larger institutional Church. As well, he seems to deride or downplay the significance of emotion. For example, Lindbeck seems to pit his view of intratextuality against both cognitivism and experiential expressionism.443 Intratextuality may help us to understand how the Church describes its story, but at the same time inadvertently omit some language that is necessary for Indigenous people to take in the gospel story. Ricoeur, on the other hand, makes room for an Indigenous approach that is concerned with the preservation of identity. What is needed is a conversation between the larger community and the text, similar to how the textual process functioned for the canonical community.

For example, Howard Kee discusses the continuity of communities between the Old Testament and the New Testament and the concern with maintaining identity as the people of God.444 Conversation and conservation of identity are of great importance to the developing people of God in a changing cultural landscape, but there is continuity and development around the canon of scripture. This latter point may not be the point of Kee’s work, but it is an extension of the idea of attempting to discern who is within the community and who is excluded. Inclusion and exclusion revolve around story. Indigenous people attempted to grapple with a changing landscape and the advent of Europeans to the continent while continuing to attempt to use story to maintain identity. For those within the Indigenous community who are Christian, there is an investigation of whether the gospel is large enough to include Indigenous communal identity. If the starting point for Indigenous Christian identity and theology is the gospel story, there is hope; as abstracted propositional truth alone, however, this hope seems limited.

Indigenous identity is communal and narrative. The focus on holistic relationships has resulted in some observable differences between Indigenous culture and Euro-Canadian culture. These differences make narrative preferable for identity development for Indigenous people. First, Indigenous culture is shame-based versus guilt based—the former being predisposed to a narrative approach regarding ethics. (However, this thesis will limit the discussion to the ethics of how story works.) Second, Indigenous focus on land goes hand and hand with an emphasis

443 George A. Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Post-Liberal Age (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984), 16. 444 Howard Clark Kee, Who are the People of God?Early Christian Models of Community (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 1–16.

114 upon place rather than time. Third, since spirituality and story are linked, this has implications for perspectives on the sacred. All three of these issues continue to add to the rationale for an elevation of the role of narrative, which has significance for theology in general.

Shame-Based Versus Guilt-Based

Indigenous people in Canada, however, were described as a shame-based culture. One needs to define what is meant by that term. Typically, the discussion of culture classifies cultures as either guilt-based or shame-based. Guilt-based cultures are thought to control the populace through an internalized ethical system, while shame-based cultures control the populace with an external set of social, ethical guidelines. If one transgresses the guideline, one feels shame and will do what is necessary to resolve the shame. The former system was thought to be operating in developed countries and the latter functioning in primitive groups of people.445 Thus, guilt-based systems of control are understood as superior to shame-based systems, as the use of terms such as “primitive” and “developing” clearly demonstrate. It flows out of the modern paradigm, which has as its goal a society of autonomous beings who all possess internalized controls leading to a more productive society. Consequently, if one has sufficient good people, the society or system will also become good.

However, this paradigm is flawed in several ways. First, it polarizes the two ways of functioning as a society. It assumes that participants in a shame-based culture have no sense of guilt. In reality, while the guilt in an honour-shame society is admittedly not identical to the internalized individual conscience of the guilt-based system, it is not nonexistent; it is simply tied more closely to one’s relationship with the group.446 Second, this paradigm fails to recognize that its ethnocentric hierarchy of guilt-based culture (North American) over shame-based culture asserts the status quo of the modernist construct. Modernity has as its premise that a society of autonomous individuals is better than a community of people controlled by some outside social ethic. Outside controls were thought to hearken back to the feudal state and must be eliminated in order for modernization to reach its full potential. It was thought further that if one could make autonomous heads of family, then this would empower each worker to improve his economic

445Young Gweon You, "Shame and Guilt Mechanisms in East Asian Culture," The Journal of Pastoral Care 51, no. 1 (1997): 57. 446Ibid., 49, quoting Takeo Doe from The Anatomy of Dependence (Tokyo: Kadansha International, 1973)

115 situation.447 People needed to community controls for economic freedom and autonomy. If they could do better economically, then their family would do better, and the state would do better. Whether modernity delivered on this promise is open to debate, but what is important for this conversation is recognizing that this ideal is at the core of the modernist construct. A shame-based culture that tends to value the group over the individual would not instinctively find this construct convincing. Ironically, while guilt-based societies are based on the notion that feelings of guilt would make people want to get along, what happens is that one ends up having to make up a never-ending set of rules to keep producing the guilt needed to control the population. Thus, one ends up with the necessity of external controls that become internalized, except in this case these controls are focused upon the individual, not upon the group.448

In contrast, shame-based Indigenous culture places the emphasis upon wholeness of community. If someone violates community standards, the focus is not upon punitive to produce guilt but instead on some form of rehabilitative program which can restore that person’s sense of honour and eliminate their shame.449

What this means for theology is that if one of its tasks is to translate or communicate the gospel from one context to another, then it cannot violate the basic ethics of communication in the receptor culture. If it does, the resultant pressure may end the conversation. Thus, theology must not only communicate proposition but also the narrative of arriving at said conclusions, showing how these propositions or convictions were arrived at in their respective communities, as well as their connection to the story. These things would be the marks of respectful communication from an Indigenous perspective. In an Indigenous context, story is a significant part of how this occurs.

The importance of respecting the other can be seen in the attitude displayed by the Cree people, who adopted a ‘withdraw and conserve’ attitude toward the coming of the Europeans. This Cree behaviour was part of an ethic of humility or respect, of wanting to allow incoming Europeans to be who they were. The Cree, therefore, withdrew to the wilderness, to maintain their traditional

447Michel Foucault et al., The Foucault Effect : Studies in Governmentalit,y with Two Lectures by and an Interview with Michel Foucault (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), 90. 448 Ray Aldred, “The Emancipatory Effects of Post-modernity on Shame Based Cultures," (Regina, SK: Canadian Theological Seminary, c. 1999). 449 Ibid.

116 way of living. As a case in point, my mother’s people, the Alberta Cree, did not want to move to reserves, for reserves would only serve to set boundaries around people; they preferred to live their traditional semi-nomadic life on the land.

This withdrawing and conserving can also be seen in interaction patterns that maintain harmony in the group by not directly confronting someone but by attempting to ‘save face’ for someone. In my many years of pastoral ministry among the Cree, only when I was a friend would someone confront me face to face and gently rebuke me. They would tell me directly, “don’t do this,” or “do this.” Even then, it was softened with humour. One anecdote illustrates this point. Several Cree men were listening to another fellow who was telling a story, but he told several untruths. A Cree friend of mine told him, “There is something wrong with your story.” The fellow responded, “Are you calling me a liar?” My friend responded, “I am just saying there is something wrong with your story.” The point was made. No relationship was broken, and the rebuke was still significant, but it was done in a way that allowed the other person to change his story and save face.

Preston also writes in Cree Narrative that Cree leadership reduced conflict not by the exercise of some legislated authority, but by “courtesy and generosity.450 Cree order is maintained by aiming to ensure each person is treated with respect and honour in the situation. The importance of relationship is always at the forefront when trying to ascertain the best course of action in a conflict.

In this setting it is easy to see how story would be effective in communication. Story takes us in; it disarms us; and then reveals something about others and ourselves. Just as there are ethics of communication that differ from culture to culture, there are ethics of story, and, particularly for this section of this work, there are ethics of how one tells the story, where one tells the story, and at which time when one tells the story. For this chapter, I will concern myself with these three questions: Who is in charge of the story, how is the integrity or identity of the story maintained, and who is telling the story?

Locative Versus Temporal

Another foundational difference that distinguishes the Indigenous approach to story and thought from the Western approach is its locative nature as opposed to temporal approach. The previous

450 Preston, 19.

117 chapter pointed out the importance of land for communal identity and noted the Cree of Canada. This emphasis on land also has implications for identity development and Indigenous narrative. Part of this attachment to land could be explained by identity studies when they suggest that as North American Indigenous people were being pushed off their land, and the relationship with land was under attack by federal governments through the residential schools, then land became important for identity. Timothy Schouls points out that control of territory is important for conceptions of identity that rely on the difference between groups as the primary focus to describe national identity.451 Schouls also notes that land is important because theories of identity rely on identification as a particular group that then wrestles for access to natural resources from the other through political means. Both approaches, Schouls rightly observes, involve distancing oneself from open conflict with the other. However, Indigenous people—which Schouls acknowledges—do not focus primarily on difference or preserving difference or on conflict with other groups but on relationships.452 Negotiation and communication in the treaty relationship flow out of a commitment to harmony that is tied to location or land. These relationships take place upon the land and include the land. Thus, the focus in the narratives of Indigenous people would lean toward space or location rather than time.

Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker acknowledge that Indigenous people have a cyclical conception of time. Something also noted by Eliade453 is that Indigenous people are not trying to erase time, but rather they are aware that even though their current physical existence will cease, the land will continue. A story from the Blackfoot people illustrates the brevity of our lives. They say that if time were a line upon the earth and an eagle touched the line with his claw, the point where he touches the line is our life. So, we should remember how brief our life is, but also that it is important, for it is part of the line, and without it what comes after would not continue.

Indigenous author Doug Cuthand points out that for Indigenous people, “The land is our soul. Our people believe that the earth and all the creatures that live on it are a gift from the Creator . . . and it must be respected and treated properly.”454 Growing up living off the land teaches one to respect creation, and because of this deep level of respect for the land, space or place is one of the primary categories of identity. Space or location is important because this is where

451 Schouls, Shifting Boundaries: Aboriginal Identity,Pluralist Theory, and the Politics of Self Government, 7. 452 Ibid., 18. 453 Eliade, The Myth of the Eternal Return or, Cosmos and History. 454 Doug Cuthand, Askiwina: a Cree World (Regina, SK: Coteau Books, 2007), 1–2.

118 ceremonies take place. Thus, these ceremonies are associated with places and events more than with dates.455 It is not only religious ceremonies that are tied to land, but all of life. In one sense, all of life is part of the story of the people living in relationship with a specific territory. Again, Preston points out that the stories of the Cree pass on memory and identity of how to live successfully upon the land. As an individual is out hunting, for example, the communal memory is affirmed by the individual as the proper way to live in harmony with the land.456 The emphasis upon the ceremonies and territories being connected and associated with a particular tribal people means that land or place is associated with feelings of kinship. As author Leslie Silko points out, “The people and land are inseparable,” and so the land—including the animals— must be treated with respect.457

This emphasis upon land has meant that space is of greater consequence than time. In the West, the emphasis is upon time, for the latter views time as always moving in a straight line toward some envisioned future. Colin Gunton points out that humans are in time because we are moving toward death, and if humans focus instead upon beings in space, then the gravity of being in relationship with God is lost because people may believe there is “reversibility” of time.458 This thesis proposes that human beings cannot be primarily defined either as a being in time or a being in space, for we are both in space and in time. Indigenous people would emphasis space; the West emphasizes time; both are necessary. If the focus falls completely upon one or the other, then something is lost. Further, an Indigenous relational identity would say that both groups must be in relationship to maintain a proper relationship between the two foci. Narrative or story could aid in holding these things together. This relationship would be dialogical, which McFadyen agrees is foundational for the development of identity.459 It also conforms to an Indigenous desire to be dependent upon one another rather than independent.

John Macmurray was also concerned that time be given priority in identity development, because he felt that if one gives space priority, reflection is given priority over action.460 This might be the case if all space were created equal. Indigenous perception of space, however, is concerned with concrete place, the place where identity develops, recognized through the action of people

455 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 44–45. 456 Preston, 64. 457 Robert M. Nelson, Place and Vision: The Function of Landscape in Native American Fiction, American Indian Studies, (New York: P. Lang, 1993), 142. 458 Gunton, The Triune Creator, 142. 459 McFadyen, The Call to Personhood, 9. 460 Macmurray, The Self as Agent, 131, 32.

119 and creatures and the Creator. This idea was pointed out in the section on language in chapter two, that Indigenous language such as the Cree language describes action, but it occurs in creation upon the land. First Nations people use story to describe how these relationships occur upon the land, in space. In this way, Indigenous location is not the objective space of Western contemplation, which Macmurray is concerned with avoiding, but Indigenous location or land forms the basic metaphor with which to interact with all the rest of creation.

Eliade correctly observed in his writings that Indigenous dwellings were constructed to mirror the universe. He pointed out that for the Delaware or Lenape the construction of the “Big House” was a recreation of the world.461 Filmmaker Jamake Highwater agrees and states Indigenous enclosures serve “as the model of the world, of the cosmos, or microcosmically of being of nature.”462 Location, then, was capable of being a doorway from which to engage the universe, but it also remained concrete or rooted in sacred spaces. These spaces or land remained connected to the people by way of narrative. The story and the place are interconnected. Cree author Neal McLeod points out:

Indigenous people tend to envision their collective memory in terms of space rather than time. It is the sense of place that anchors our stories; it is the sense of place that links us together as communities. Indeed, it is the sense of space that connects us to other beings and the rest of creation.463

The emphasis upon location has implications for story or narrative. An understanding or knowledge of local territory and story offers several additional implications. First, the description of place is important to the reliability of the account. Reliability will be explored in greater detail in the section dealing with the performative nature of Indigenous story. Second, if stories or legends are told by elders and contain references to specific persons, or places, these are considered reliable.464 A landmark land claims case in Canada led to an acknowledgment that Indigenous relationship with land is best understood with the use of narrative. British Colombian tribal groups in the Delgamuukw case involving Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en, made the point that their ceremonies and stories were proof that they had claim to the land. Location makes a difference for Indigenous story and identity.

461 Mircea Eliade, From Primitives to : A Thematic Sourcebook of the History of (London: Collins, 1977), 159. 462 Highwater, The Primal Mind: Vision and Reality in Indian America, 122. 463 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 6. 464 Copway, "The Traditional History and Characteristic Sketches of the Ojibway Nation," 28.

120 Also, the greater attention to location and the relationship with that location imbue land, ceremony, and story with a sacred quality. Indigenous Christian theology extends the sacred nature of creation to include all of creation, which is a helpful corrective to an overemphasis in popular Western theology that reduces space to a utilitarian function. The Church and Indigenous people could find agreement when the Indigenous people point to their own creation stories as the basis for sacred law,465 which includes the treaty relationship between all that live in the land called Turtle Island, or North America. Again, from an Indigenous perspective, the idea that land is sacred means that at any moment, God could use any part of creation to commune in a more tangible way with human beings. Indigenous understanding of sacredness has implications for the dialectic between a transcendent God and an immanent Creator. Indigenous perspective understands that the Great Mystery interacts with creation, and this interaction is captured in legends and stories.

This sacred and special attention to the land can be found in the Cree Bible when it talks about the Creator's relationship with land. John 3:16, “Wiya Kisemanitow espihci-sakihtat askiy. . . .”466 translates “Because Kisemanitow [God] loved as much as possible the askiy [land]. . . .” This is an affirmation by the gospel of the special significance of location for Indigenous identity—not only the universal category of space but a specific location that includes time or life. The place and time in which the love of the Creator is experienced is the territory of the Cree. The land as a relative of the Cree is also part of God’s redemptive plan. The does not want to dominate askiy but wants to save it from the chaos of broken relationships.

Sacred Stories

The concept of sacred among Indigenous people has a slightly different focus than it does in the West. Ricoeur points out that for some in the West, the idea of sacred means a particular story cannot change, it is frozen in time, and so the text of the story is “mined” for nuggets of truth.467 However, the concept of sacredness in a Cree context is dynamic. Sacredness means not that something is permanently sacred, but that at any moment something could become sacred, which would mark it with a heightened sense of significance. To apply this to the Bible, the Bible is

465 Borrows, Canada’s Indigenous Constitution, 25–26. 466 Okim*asis, Ratt, and University of Regina Cree, Language of the Plains, 10. 467 See Paul Ricoeur, “Toward a Hermeneutic of the Idea of Revelation,"”Harvard Theological Review 70, no. 1–2 (1977): 2; Paul Ricœur, “ - Poetics - Hermeneutics,” in Rhetoric and Hermeneutics in Our Time: A Reader, ed. Walter Jost and Michael J. Hyde (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), 67; Paul Ricoeur, On Translation, Thinking in Action (Abingdon, England; New York, NY: Routledge, 2006), 9.

121 sacred because, in the text, the Creator is doing something of significance. However, the Creator is doing more than taking action within the Christian scriptures. The Creator is active in creation as well. This is more in line with Karl Barth’s suggestion that the Bible is not the word of God as such but rather becomes the word of God in the event of revelation.468 Barth, however, is talking about the divine revelation manifested amid creation through the Word. Indigenous conceptions of sacred are not necessarily ascribing divinity to the manifestation of something powerful. This does not preclude that kitchi may be linked to the divine. Because of the complicated relationship between Indigenous people and the Western conceptions of the “sacred” Bible, Indigenous people may indeed regard scripture in the way that Ricoeur attributes to some: that is, as something that is owned by the West and is therefore not an Indigenous “sacred” story. What is needed is for the gospel story to be taken in by Indigenous people as part of their sacred stories.

Scholars have documented the Indigenous propensity to see the possibility of spiritual forces at work in creation. Eliade has already been mentioned, but Åke Hultkrantz also notes that for Indigenous North Americans, the supernatural breaks into the everyday world regularly.469 Preston notes that the Cree in Northern Quebec talk of “attending spirits, who are ‘other-than- human-persons’ in their own right.470 As pointed out in chapter two, the Cree language assumes that the spiritual, or kichi, is part of reality.471 Location or place comes into play because significant spiritual experiences take place in the real world. Indigenous people would conclude that the spiritual or sacred is part of everyday life and would therefore not necessarily assign it to the category of the imaginary or unreal.

The reality of the metaphysical is not completely foreign to Western thought. William Alston makes an argument for the category of “mystical Christian perceptions” because people use the normal language of sensory perception to talk about these experiences.472 He is not arguing that sensory perception and spiritual perception are analogous, but that one is justified in talking about perceiving the spiritual because it is socially acknowledged as a beginning point for doxastic practice. Alston would agree with Indigenous people that the experience of the spiritual

468 Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, The Doctrine of the Word of God, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance (London: T & T Clark, 2010), 121. 469 Åke Hultkrantz, The Religions of the American Indians, Hermeneutics, Studies in the History of Religions 7 (Berkeley: University of Press, 1979), 14. 470 Preston, 126. 471 Waugh and Roan, 10. 472 William P. Alston, Perceiving God: The Epistemology of (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991), 226.

122 is a socially legitimate discussion. Indigenous people, however, are not concerned with giving a rhetorical justification for talking about spiritual perception; in Indigenous story, the spiritual and invisible are as real as the material and visible. For Indigenous people, this is accomplished by seeing the material world as sacred. This is an example of an extension of embodiment that goes beyond sensory perception but acknowledges that the experience of the spiritual—or, in Alston’s words, the experience of God—takes place upon the earth, and not only on the earth in general but in specific places at specific times. That Jesus Christ came in the flesh, as 1 John 4 points out, is then a definite possibility within an Indigenous understanding of the spiritual.

The conviction that all of life is spiritual or sacred means that there is a to all of life, which includes stories. The sacred stories of Indigenous people contain the history and collective memory of the people, which is a key part of identity. McLeod points out that it is necessary to recover the sacred stories in order to feel at home on the land. The stories provide the resources with which to project an ideal for the future.473 A holistic vision of life takes shape through the process of telling and retelling the history of the people, which is contained in the sacred stories. However, this telling and retelling does not preclude the inclusion of current circumstances within the sacred stories.

Again, this understanding of sacred story constitutes a difference between Indigenous conceptions of sacredness and some Western conceptions of the same. Indigenous people believe it is necessary to use stories or narratives to investigate how to engage with current situations. This will become clearer in the treatment of the performative nature of Indigenous story below. For now, it can be said that Indigenous stories are sacred, but they are open-ended. For example, storytellers have a responsibility to “imagine a different world” from the current world. The Indigenous storyteller gives vision to what the world might be. The practice of “narrative imagination” takes the things of the past and helps form them into something that casts an ideal vision for the future.474

The idea of sacredness is embedded in place or with land. Indigenous fiction writer Scott Momaday notes that for Indigenous people there is a sacred trust between the people and land. When language touches the earth—through songs that imitate the sounds of the natural world,

473 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 92. 474 Ibid., 100.

123 through the naming of places, or through stories that take place upon the land—there is a spiritual power that renders the place sacred.475

The Indigenous emphasis upon location, flowing out of a religious connection to land, has led to controversy in the past. As noted in previous chapters, the concept of land, and chiefly the ownership of land, led to the breakdown of relations between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. This sacred or religious connection to land continues into the twenty-first century, and it causes conflict between Indigenous and non-Indigenous North Americans because the latter fail to show proper respect for the land,476 whereas Indigenous people continue to want to use the land in a way that respects or coincides with a sacred trust. Sacred story provides additional resources to help one understand how this can occur. Story that emphasizes the understanding that one is related to the earth provide a basis upon which to develop a symbiotic relationship with the earth. Identification with the earth will thus move away from individualistic utilitarian concern toward a communally focused spirituality. In addition, if treaty is viewed as a shared story by both Indigenous people and relative newcomers, it allows both groups to form a connection to the specific location (Canada). This holism is built upon the story taking in all relationships, including the relationship with land. This, of course, is predicated upon the idea that story is not merely something that is written down, but is oral and performed.

The Performative Nature of Story

Indigenous story is performative and is used to maintain and enhance identity. Story develops and maintains relationships. Stories passed on from generation to generation are a resource to live in a “good way” upon the earth. “Good way” is defined as moving toward harmony in all relationships. The story is vital to maintaining harmony, but also, because of the many cultural atrocities experienced by Indigenous people, the performance of story also provides a way back to harmony.

Harmony means seeking good relations with all. John Borrows points out that the Cree word wahkohtowin refers to an overarching principle or law that comes from creation, is evidenced by all of creation, and “admonishes or requires Cree people as individuals and as nations to conduct

475 N. Scott Momaday, The Man Made of Words: Essays, Stories, Passages, (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1997), 39, 124. 476 Richard E. Wentz, “Settlers and Sojourners: Americans and Their Land,” Currents in Theology and Mission 8, no. 1 (1981): 13–22.

124 themselves in a manner such that they create positive good relations in all relationships.”477 Randy Woodley calls this the harmony way, which he says is close to the theological idea of Shalom:478 when, as Pierre Allard puts it, justice and peace kiss.479

Indigenous story or narrative, because it is performative, includes a variety of forms that all display a lingering connection with orality. These are the “oral” texts of Indigenous people. Sophie McCall points out that the story forms used by the Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en people of British Columbia include a ritual feast.480 Thus, eating together is part of the performative story. The people eat together and tell the story of their relationship with the land. The story cannot be broken free from the feast without altering the story.

Ceremonies, songs, oral histories, legends, and textual accounts are all part of an Indigenous narrative approach to life. Treaty relationships can also be added to the list of Indigenous stories that serve to shape identity. These stories, performed in a communal setting, accomplish something. The treaty is affirmed, and symbolic gifts are given. This performance helps the participants to remember the promises that were given at the original signing of the treaty. This example affirms the focus of this thesis: that is, how relationships are maintained between Indigenous people and others. To examine the way Indigenous story works, this section of the thesis will look at the role of storytellers and the community and how the control of story illustrates how the individual and community interact. Also, the examination of treaty as an attempt by First Nations people at a shared narrative, leading to a shared identity with new- comers to Canada, reveals the communal nature of Indigenous identity. This identity is large enough to take in not only Indigenous people; in a fashion, it also provides newcomers with a resource with which to strengthen their relationship with the land called Canada.

This Indigenous Narrative approach, with the resource of treaty, combined with the theological concept of repentance, also provides tools with which to work through the complexities of the relationship between Christian faith and Indigenous identity. This relationship includes Indigenous people and settlers working through the difficulties of the past as well as the current status of relationships in Canada. Story provides a way toward the healing of relationships.

477 Borrows, 84–85. 478 Woodley, xv. 479 Pierre Allard, “Pslam 85” quoted in “Restoravie Justice: Lost Treasure,” (Regina, SK: Canadian Theological Seminary, March, 11, 1999). 480 McCall, “’What the Map Cuts up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 307.

125 These stories of the Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en and the treaties have been used as the basis for investigation and eventual settlement of land claims between the Canadian Federal Government and Indigenous nations. They further serve as the sources for history and thought and the development of identity. Story is used in very specific ways by local people to maintain their identity and in many cases their territory. The genre of story is vital to the task of maintaining identity. The one who remembers and tells the story is functioning as a storyteller for the whole community—not just the community that is alive right now, or at the time that the story is told, but also for those who came before and for the children and grandchildren who will come after. They are all present when the stories of the land are told.

This thesis is, in fact, a form of Indigenous narrative. Chapter one cited James Treat’s reference to “Native North American Narrative Discourse,” and this thesis is seeking to write for the Western academy something that will make known the core of Indigenous thought, and specifically how an Indigenous approach to story has implications for theology. As such, it represents a move toward Treat’s desired end; however, it may not be able to break free of the Western academies’ propensity to reduce and classify into Western catagories.

In the complex task of putting Indigenous thought into text, of writing about narrative, in order to convey Indigenous ideas to the Western university, something is lost. This phenomenon has been well documented in North American Indigenous literature. Jamake Highwater, for example, notes that Indigenous literature has gone through a series of changes in its evolution481 due to the dialogue between newcomers to North America and the Indigenous people of the Americas. Indigenous writers, at first, relied upon Western realism to communicate with a primarily Western audience. Cree scholar Shawn Wilson points out that Indigenous scholars at first worked within the Western framework. He contends that movement occurred from 1990 to 2000.482

Wilson notes that a second stage in the development of an Indigenous perspective saw Indigenous scholars trying to present Indigenous methods, and this is still seen as disputed territory by the Academy.483 An Indigenous scholar must still use Western methods to convey Indigenous methodology. There was movement, but a further shift was needed. In the third stage, the Indigenous paradigm began to focus upon decolonization. This saw Indigenous Scholars

481 Highwater, The Primal Mind, 109–14. 482 Wilson, 51. 483 Ibid., 51–54.

126 challenging Western research methods used in the study of Indigenous people.484 In a final stage, the “Indigenous Research Phase,” Indigenous people are beginning to shift from trying to “carve- out” space within the Western Academy to building an approach that could provide for holistic Indigenous research that describes Indigenous data collected through Indigenous methods and interpreted by Indigenous scholars.485

In this final step, the Indigenous scholar is using English but has made Western academic research Indigenous to North America—and I would add that non-Indigenous North Americans have become in part indigenized by their contact with Indigenous authors and the land—so that academic research could be classified as a new genre. This thesis, then, moves toward this new genre by attempting to make room for Indigenous theological discourse. As such, this thesis is part of a dialogue between Indigenous people and the Western academy. This dialogue aims to develop and maintain Indigenous identity by preserving or furthering the relationship between Indigenous people and Western institutions through an insider perspective of both positions.

This last point, the maintaining of relationships, is the primary focus of this section. An examination of who is telling the story will reveal the interplay between storyteller and community, which in some ways mirrors the interplay between the individual and the group in Western society, though not completely. For, in an Indigenous context, the storyteller could be a group of people sharing their understanding or performing a shared recollection; this is evident in the example of the land claims trial cited below. The storyteller is an individual, but the individual is mindful of all her relationships,486 even as she is telling the story. She pays attention to how all her actions will impact the rest of creation around her. Jo-ann Archibald, for example, writes that Indigenous “storywork” encapsulates values like “respect, responsibility, reciprocity, , holism, interrelatedness, and synergy. These values all are predicated upon being mindful of others.”487

This understanding is in part what McFadyen may be attempting to describe with his explanation of identity development being primarily dialogical and dialectical.488 An Indigenous perspective would see the group as being part of the individual identity, and so the Indigenous group that is

484 Ibid., 53. 485 Ibid., 54. 486 Preston, 25. 487 Jo-Ann Archibald, Indigenous Storywork: Educating the Heart, Mind, Body, and Spirit (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2008), ix. 488 McFadyen, The Call to Personhood, 9.

127 presenting story, through song or ceremony, is an example of a group storyteller. Storywork, of course, is in part of what Ricoeur understands of mimesis and helps to explain, but that will be left until chapter four. This chapter will proceed by examining the roles of story, storyteller, and community. Following the discussion of who is telling the story and the relationship between narrative and community, the focus will shift to the telos of Indigenous story: the maintenance of relationships.

Who is Telling the Story?

Relationships are central to identity. Indigenous people focus primarily upon the communal identity rather than upon the individual. In other words, Indigenous people see or interpret the relationships surrounding them. As such, the language of the community is narrative; all things in life are part of a larger story. To understand the role of narrative in maintaining relationships, it is necessary to talk about the role the storyteller plays in the narrative as well as the role the community plays in seeking to maintain harmony in all of its relationships. There is interplay between the storyteller and the community that flows out of a conviction that all things are related and that these relationships must be preserved. The telling of stories communicates the people’s way of life. The storyteller and community are both involved in the process, and this interplay is central to comprehending how Indigenous narrative forms the foundation for individual as well as communal identity.

The storyteller is acting as a representative for the people. The stories that she, he, or they tell are not owned exclusively by the individual(s) but are entrusted to the storyteller. “Storyteller” should not be limited to a set of individuals, although this is simplest to observe, for if we include ceremony and rituals as expressions of Indigenous narrative, then the group performing a sacred song or ceremony is the storyteller. As such, the group functions as a storyteller. Also, as McFague comments, the story or parable is not the exclusive language of the artist or poet; the language is the language of everyday people.489 The artist or poet uses their shared language to draw attention to things that are not always seen or remembered by the rest of society. The storyteller takes common events and weaves them into a narrative with words, actions, and sounds that belong to the people, while at the same time helping the people to remember. In this way, the storyteller is doing the work of the people as well as the work of the storyteller.

489Sallie McFague, Speaking in Parables: A Study in Metaphor and Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), 43.

128 Of course, through modern linguistic studies it is understood that a community sets limits upon what its members can communicate. The language of the community enables someone to speak and to communicate, but at the same time the language of the community limits what may be communicated. Wittgenstein was referring to this when describing speech in the context of a community as a language game.490 The Indigenous community must include land or creation. The land sets limits on how one can speak. The land is named and participates in the game by describing its characteristics. In this way, any storyteller is bound by the community or communities within which she finds herself. There is limited relativity to meaning in any given group. Words can appear to shift in their usage and meaning, but the community limits this shift.491 Ricoeur’s discussion around metaphor is an example of this idea.492 With the introduction of new ideas or thoughts, existing language must be pressed into service. In the same way, the community binds the storyteller, and yet they are also set free by the community as the context changes, and in this way the storyteller has limited control over how he or she tells the story.

In the context of theology, these categories of story, storyteller, and community are being used to sketch out the dynamic between everyone involved in the Indigenous context so that one can see the necessity of linking theology and narrative. Narrative is here defined not just as a whimsical storytelling style that one might add to their repertoire, but as the language of the community. As such, the community respects story or Indigenous narrative, but at times those outside the community have attempted to use narrative to achieve their outsider agenda. A utilitarian approach to narrative was advocated by some in the residential school system that sought to modify their approaches to fit Indigenous culture so that they could eradicate Indigenous culture.493 If one is merely attempting to recast propositional truth in the genre of narrative,494 or cast the development of some specific doctrine into a historical narrative, it is still possible to

490 Ludwig Wittgenstein and G. E. M. Anscombe, Philosophical Investigations: The English Text of the Third Edition, trans. G. E. M. Anscombe, 3rd ed. (New York: Prentice Hall, 1958), 11. 491 See Ray Aldred, “Us Talking to Us,” Journal of North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies 1, no. 1 (2003),where I discuss this issue in greater detail. 492 Paul Ricœur, The Rule of Metaphor: Multi-Disciplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language (Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1977), 23. 493 Ken Coates, “Betwixt and Between: The Anglican Church and the Children of Carcross (Chooutla) Residential School, 1910–1955,” BC Studies 65(1984–5): 47. 494 Some types of preaching which substitute an acedote from the preacher’s own life or imagination in an attempt to prove the meaningfulness of the gospel story actually supplant the gospel story proper.

129 miss the centrality of a community’s own story and its handling of the story as being vital to the development of an Indigenous Christian identity and theology.

Indigenous people in North America have a long history of using story to instruct and communicate how to live. Even stories that were primarily for amusement communicate a way of life. Copway observes that the whole storytelling process develops character in children.495 The process of sitting and listening to story teaches respect for the community’s wisdom and elders. McLeod states, “Cree narrative memory is more than simply storytelling,” given that the storyteller brings ‘forward’ the past and applies it to the present for the good of the community.496

This respect for narrative, or at least the biblical narrative, was something Hans Frei was attempting to recapture. The Eclipse of the Biblical Narrative, for example, was attempting to move the monolith497 of “a purely skeptical theology”498 from in front of the biblical narrative by pointing out the shadow cast on the gospel by the liberal attempts at proving the meaningfulness of the gospel. The gospel story is vital to Christian theology, and the community itself must take in the gospel story if the community is to be taken in by the same gospel story. As such, the community must exert control over the story. However, can Western theology loosen its grip upon the gospel story or upon its theology in order that this might happen? Of course, this is the point that has been put forward from the beginning of this study—that dialogue with those from a different perspective or focus of identity will result in a shift in identity that is beneficial to the ongoing mutual task of living in a good way upon the earth.

George Tinker offers an excellent critique of the interaction between Euro-American Christianity and Native Americans, concluding that Native Americans have not been trusted to interpret Christianity.499 I am not sure Tinker includes the gospel story proper in this critique, but I would propose that the gospel story itself has not been entrusted to the Indigenous community, except the version read through the lenses of Euro-American and Euro-Canadian theology. This is particularly true of someone who is trained in a Western academic institution. It is vital,

495 Copway, “The Traditional History and Characteristic Sketches of the Ojibway Nation,” 97. 496 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 7–8. 497 This use of “monolith” is playing with the idea of monolith from Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. 498 Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred, 236. 499 George E. Tinker, Missionary Conquest: The Gospel and Native American Cultural Genocide (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 115.

130 therefore, to remain in contact with one’s own tribal identity and community, for one’s community will inform one’s interpretation. It is also important to point out that the community is rapidly changing, not toward assimilation but toward a pan-Indian500 movement that is mindful of the West but not controlled by its conception of theology or the gospel story.

The Storyteller and the Story

Who is in control of the story? This question has a multi-layered answer. The storyteller is, of course, in charge of the story because she is the one communicating. At the same time, to maintain the integrity of the story, the story is also “in charge.” In an Indigenous context, and perhaps it could be argued in Western culture as well, the listeners and wider community are also in charge of the story. The community sets limitations upon what can be said and not said. As well, curiously, when it comes to putting oral stories into text, there are examples of the one recording the stories wanting to be in charge.501 At times, Western interlopers attempt to distil the story into a textual form that, although illuminating in communicating some of the content and style of Indigenous story, creates problems for the ongoing transmission of story and identity within an Indigenous context.502

The question of who is in charge of the story encourages dialogue concerning the way story functions to help maintain identity. For example, when telling a story, the storyteller is standing in the tradition of a long line of storytellers who have each been entrusted with the story. When I say “the story is in charge,” this means that there is an integrity that appears to safeguard the story. If the details of the story are changed beyond a communally agreed-upon point, then the story has become something else. There is a “limited relativity” of story that is safeguarded by a communal ethic of story. There is, then, interplay between the storyteller and the story. This interplay is true since, in telling the story, the teller is not just relaying some content, but interpreting and almost co-authoring the story. How does the story function to maintain its own integrity? Put another way, how does the story stay in charge?

Sallie McFague helps illuminate this when she states that if we consider a story to be a metaphor, then it is not translatable into concepts; the story says what it says.503 McFague is commenting

500 Pan-Indian refers to a modern mixing of different North American Native traditions, arriving at a kind of consensus of what it means to be North American Native. 501 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 306. 502 Calliou, “Methodology for Recording Oral Histories in the Aboriginal Community,” 77. 503 McFague, Speaking in Parables: A Study in Metaphor and Theology, 69.

131 on the “surplus” of meaning that exists in the parable or story. She is also pointing out the shortcomings of some approaches to the Bible and theology, which seem to use the scripture or at least the parables of scripture to buttress an approach to interpretation that would locate meaning in the past, at a certain point of time, or in a certain meaning or interpretation; this is a reductionist move. According to McFague, the story or metaphor is the point. Therefore, the point is not to communicate some concept or truth, although it is obvious, at least on a surface level, that some concept or truth is communicated; rather, it is to link life with the transcendent by providing a “place” for theological reflection upon the gospel.504 I would suggest that this place of reflection could be considered part of identity or being. As such, it is functioning in much the same way as Indigenous story, since story for Indigenous people is functioning to link together the mysterious, the spiritual, and the mundane. Life itself is to be lived like a story.505

Now, it is indeed possible to view Indigenous story as a receptacle for truths or principles. This seems to be a part of what John Borrows is attempting to point out in his work on Indigenous law, where he advocates that Indigenous story can be interpreted to discern principles for living.506 However, I would propose that this, too, is an application of a construct of the West. For Borrows, the construct is an attempt to make Indigenous story compatible with common law. He is attempting to expand the understanding of common law, but because common law has fixed boundaries for the West, it is not always clear whether Borrows can maintain the integrity of the story. It could appear that he is lapsing into what McFague would call viewing Indigenous story as an allegory for something that is already known.507 In other words, Borrows is attempting to make Indigenous story fit the Western conception of common law. Although Borrows is arguing for a synergy between Indigenous law and common law precedent, this turns out to prove that the “truth” of Indigenous law creates a dependency upon Western law and its conception of truth. Thus, one could ask, if Western law is in control, does the Indigenous story take the place of secondary importance? If so, then Western common law is interpreting Indigenous story or wisdom. There is a difference between letting the story interpret the person and using the story to illustrate a principle. Borrows may merely be trying to let the story

504Ibid., 40–41. 505 Julie Cruikshank records a similar phrase from Indigneous elder Angela Sidney: “Well, I've tried to live my life right, just like a story.” Cruikshank, Life Lived Like a Story: Life Stories of Three Yukon Elders (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), 1. 506 Borrows, Recovering Canada, 13. 507 McFague, Speaking in Parables, 4.

132 function, as McFague puts it, as an intermediate step508 to help get to a conception of Indigenous law that is understandable and useful for the Canadian courts.

The application to this work involves the nature of story in relation to theology. Bringing in Borrows and the discussion of law has relevance for two reasons. First, the categories of evidence in law and theology are similar: there is a quest for truth. Second, even though the quest for evidence could be based on a quest for the facts, deciding how these facts and the story behind them are to be understood makes a difference to how these are applied to the final verdict of a case. This choice, or , as Ricoeur notes,509 does fit within how story works in the context of the community. As mentioned earlier, the unwillingness of some in the Western legal tradition or Western theological tradition to so engage is based upon a particular application of evidence. Indigenous narrative, as Borrows argues and as I am arguing, does not avoid the truth, but sets it within a broader narrative to preserve, heal, and enhance relationship.

When I apply this to theology, I am attempting to show how Indigenous story is invaluable as a place to understand the gospel story, and that, following the ethics of story, it provides help in pointing the direction to a place to ‘do’ Indigenous theology. This “place” refers to the land, the context where the story is heard and from which it derives its significance. At this point, suffice to say that there is an integrity that exists within First Nations story because of its location on specific Indigenous territory. These stories, whose identity may shift in their telling, do hold within themselves a relation to Indigenous people via the storyteller who is herself held by the land; in this way, the story told upon the land is in charge.

In an Indigenous context, the community entrusts the storyteller with the story. Once entrusted with the story, the storyteller is a kind of owner of the story in that he or she is the one to whom people look to hear the stories. McLeod states that the stories are part of the storyteller’s nayahcikan, or “bundle:” “A bundle is a spiritual embodiment of collective memory and is added to and subtracted from as time goes on.”510 The storyteller may exert , but the interplay between community and story makes the community, the storyteller, the land as family, and the story irreducible necessities for the story and for the identity of the people to whom the stories belong. The storyteller abides by an ethic of story that will maintain both the identity of the community and the story. It also needs to be said that storytelling is the craft and that there is no

508 Ibid., 3. 509 Paul Ricoeur, “Rhetoric - Poetics - Hermeneutics,” 68. 510 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 10.

133 exclusivity to who can tell stories, but when one is telling the stories of a particular group of people, there is a particular way in which the story is functioning.

The storyteller is a spokesperson charged with keeping the wisdom of the group and applying that wisdom to differing situations. The storyteller is charged with using imagination to envision a desired future for the community.511 In this, the storyteller engages in dialogical imagination by reflection on all the different voices of the community: remembering the stories, thinking about the present and future possibilities, and listening to the voice of the land.512 In this way, the storyteller is engaging in narrative imagination, but always for the community.

The ethic that guides the telling of stories varies among Indigenous peoples. For example, some of the West Coast Indigenous peoples viewed certain stories as being owned by certain people.513 For someone else to tell the story, they would have to get permission from whoever “owned” the story. Perhaps a gift would be given in exchange for the ability to tell this story. In Cree culture, stories are told by a variety of people; no one person owns the story, but there is an expectation that when one invites someone to tell stories that a gift would be given to the person telling the story. For example, it is now common practice that when going to speak to an elder, one takes some tobacco as part of showing proper respect.

Similarly, when it comes to songs, it is understood that someone must give you the song so that you can sing it wherever you go. Also, in one sense, the land owns the story, and therefore the story does not easily translate into another setting. I experienced this while telling my stories in Australia. Some of the animals in my story were not part of Australian experience, so the story did not have the same effect on the people of a different land. Again, this practice differs from people group to people group. What is common among all is that the stories and songs are being passed from person to person. If you are told stories in a Cree context, it is to help you understand something, and then you can tell the story as well and in this way pass on this understanding.514

511 Ibid., 100. 512 For a definition of dialogical imagination, see M. M. Bakhtin and Michael Holquist, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays, University of Texas Press Slavic Series (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), 426. 513 This was pointed out by West Coast Indigenous people while I was teaching a class on story at the Vancouver School of Theology during the summer of 2006. 514 When I was learning stories from different people, it was common for the one telling the story to say, “I am trying to tell you something,” or “Do you understand?” Both of these statements show that the story being told has a purpose.

134 Thomas King captures this idea when he states following each short story in his work The Truth About Stories, “Take the story. It’s yours. Do with it what you will. Tell it to friends. Turn it into a television movie. Forget it. But don’t say in the years to come that you would have lived your life differently if only you had heard this story. You’ve heard it now.”515 Stories are living things moving through space and time by passing from one person or community to another, but they are inseparable from storytellers and from a community—and, for Indigenous stories, from the land.

It bears repeating that respect and humility accompany the telling of story. When I was being taught about traditional Indigenous culture, the concept of “understanding” was preferred over “knowledge.” In a Cree context, at least, the idea that someone knew something was considered arrogant. It was better to say “I understand” than “I know.” To say “I know” was to consider that knowledge began with you, whereas to say “I understand” would acknowledge that you had merely entered wisdom or understanding. All of this creates problems for writing a thesis that must show the creation of new knowledge because, from an Indigenous perspective, all reflection is dialogical and therefore is not creating new knowledge but merely clarifying what has existed already. This does not mean that the two understandings are irreconcilable. The emphasis in an Indigenous understanding is to respect the community and the knowledge or understanding of the community.516 Wisdom and knowledge must be preserved for the community. Thus, story is effective to aid in the gaining of new understanding but also in preserving this understanding.

A difference between Indigenous and Western conceptions of story can be seen in the introduction of the book Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree.517 The author explains that the stories contained therein were written from dictation.518 In the first paragraph, the anthropologist assumes that the storyteller was at fault at different times because he or she changed words—or, in the opinion of the ethnographer, used less appropriate words.519 The idea that an anthropologist in the 1930s would tell a storyteller that he or she was in error over the telling of a traditional story points out the tension that continued to exist around the ethics for story between the textual Western world and the oral Cree world. Although I am using the term ethic, the

515 Thomas King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative (Toronto: House of Anansi Press, 2003), 29. 516 Kovach, 13. 517 Leonard Bloomfield, Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree (Ottawa: F.A. Acland, 1930), 1. 518 Ibid. 519 Ibid.

135 fluidity of the edges of such ethics, or the strictness of such ethics, should not be seen in the same way as rules for Western copyright or the 1930s conception of textual accuracy. The storyteller might have been using humour to try and teach the anthropologist how story works.

Humour is a significant factor in how story functions in Indigenous community. As mentioned above, even at the most sacred ceremonies and in the telling of stories, humour is inserted by various means to allow the audience some relief or a pause before continuing the story. Humour, of course, is not uncommon to Western stories, but it is not always present in Western sacred ceremonies. H.C. Wolfhart notes that Cree storytellers may provoke laughter when telling religious or eschatological discourse by inserting “scurrilous stories or personal asides.”520 The presence of humour reveals a holistic approach to life where the profane is present even in the sacred.

Of course, whether Cree storytellers were teasing recorders of stories is speculation, and there is no way of knowing if the anthropologist who recorded the stories of the Sweet Grass Cree before 1930 was overly critical of Indigenous oral craft. Sophie McCall points out that the same tension between a Western conception of story and text and an Indigenous ethic of story exists today.521 Citing two books of stories from Indigenous peoples, Life Lived like a Story by Julie Cruikshank522 and Write It on Your Heart by Harry Robinson and complied by Wendy Wickwire,523 McCall points out that Wickwire “places strong emphasis on Robinson’s stories, as if these stories exist apart from the act of storytelling. In contrast, the four authors of Life Lived like a Story reject the idea of “‘collecting’ oral narratives.”524 Rather, they see story as being a two-way process between listener and teller “over many years, and even over many generations.”525 Thus, the storyteller is vital to the identity of the story and ultimately the identity of the community. To reiterate, all at the same time, the story, the community, and the storyteller are basic particulars for identity.526

520 Alice Ahenakew et al., Âh-âyîtaw isi ê-kî-kiskêyihtahkik maskihkiy = They Knew both Sides of Medicine: Cree Tales of Curing and Cursing, Publications of the Algonquian Text Society (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2000), 159. 521 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across.’” 522 Cruikshank, Life Lived like a Story. 523 Harry Robinson and Wendy C. Wickwire, Write It on Your Heart: The Epic World of an Okanagan Storyteller (Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1989). 524 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across,” 306. 525 Ibid. 526 Paul Ricoeur's comment that the body is a basic particular for personal identity can be extended in the context of story to include the story, the storyteller, and the community, all located in a particular place.

136 It is not that Indigenous storytellers are unconcerned with keeping the details of the story, but there is a resistance to ascribing a one-to-one correspondence of meaning to particular words. First Nations people would see the basic meaning as residing within the story, situated within the community, which is located in a particular place. Meaning beyond individual words is similar to the idea Paul Ricoeur observes when he moves the meaning to primarily reside in the sentence or even in the metaphor, a meaning which is more than the sum of the nouns and verbs of a sentence. Indigenous storytellers locate the story and validate the story by mentioning particular places as well as particular people. By naming the people or person whom they received the story from, the storyteller can speak in some sense as the original storyteller.527

Further to this notion of ‘ownership,’ the storyteller may speak with the same authority as the original speaker when quoting a vision that another person has had. Again, this authority relies on place and relationship. If the storyteller was at the place when the vision was received, or if the person has close knowledge of the original recipient of the vision because they are related, then when the storyteller is speaking, he may enter into the recounting of the story or vision in the first person, as a substitute for the original recipient.528 However, this does not mean that the quotation must be verbatim.529 The successive telling of stories may vary significantly because the narrative process is performative,530 aimed at maintaining the connection in the community. That harmony and respect are maintained is important; the occasion and audience may require a storyteller to vary the details of the story to serve said occasion.

Also, there is not a master set of stories or master story that guides all the other stories; what is constant is the connection between the storyteller, the story, and the community—a community that includes land, which also includes all the beings upon the land. What is important for this thesis is that the Indigenous approach to narrative is communal and is a way to move through life. The land and the community form the basis or guide for how the story must be told.

The storyteller is responsible for owning the stories in an Indigenous way (by being faithful in telling the stories), for in the stories lies some of the wisdom of the tribe, but more importantly the identity of the people. The telling of stories can transmit tribal wisdom across generations

527 Ahenakew et al., Âh-âyîtaw isi ê-kî-kiskêyihtahkik maskihkiy = They Knew both Sides of Medicine, 81. 528 Ibid., 145–49. 529 Here we might note the fact that in Luke 4 Satan quotes the scriptural text essentially verbatim, while Jesus paraphrases. 530 Ibid., 152.

137 and situations. Borrows points out in his work Recovering Canada: The Resurgence of Indigenous Law that First Nations people use ancient stories in modern settings.531 “These stories are retold . . . in a way that combines ancient principles with the contemporary requirements of our people.”532 The storyteller functions as one entrusted with the task of telling the story, and it is used to evaluate the actions of those in Anishinabe territory.533 Thus, the storyteller is functioning with authority granted her by the community. To ask whether this authority is limited to the use of the story or vested in the storyteller is to ask questions that aim toward a categorization that may not be found among First Nations people. They would view the whole process in its entirety.

As stated above, Borrows’ pointing out principles may be a reductionist move, but may also indicate that drawing guiding principles from story is a normal part of Indigenous existence. This practice would be in keeping with Western society, but the difference, or at least what appears different, is that in a First Nations context the presence of traditional stories and the storytellers are necessary. The context will change what principles are drawn out of the story. It could be that in order to make a point of his book, Borrows must draw out principles from the story to demonstrate the legitimacy of an Indigenous law tradition to a Western world. However, the principles do not or should not supplant the story. Identity lived out in connection with the land is at stake. How these stories may change in the face of a post-colonial Canada remains to be seen. For my work, I indicate that a differing context provided the means and necessity for the story to change and be reshaped to fit the context, all the while maintaining the identity and relationships of the people.

The importance of maintaining identity is highlighted by an earlier example of story from Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree. For Indigenous people, the coming of the Europeans brought a major shift in culture and life. Christian religion frequently introduced an adversarial position to traditional religion. The Cree storyteller told her story to remind the Cree to stay Indian and not to worship in the Christian way, which is another example of story being used to maintain Cree identity.534

531 Borrows, Recovering Canada, 16. 532 Ibid. 533 Ibid., 17. 534Bloomfield, Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree, 8–19.

138 In Write it on Your Heart, Harry Robinson addresses “white and Indian” relations in his story “Twins: White and Indian.”535 This story highlights another example of how Indigenous story and storytellers were and are grappling with the new realities that are facing them. This illustrates that the genre of storytelling is still significant for Indigenous identity. Also, since it is of importance for Indigenous identity, story must play a significant part in doing Indigenous Christian theology.

To sum up, to this point, story in the Indigenous context is a valid way of reflecting upon the changing context of First Nations people. There are traditional stories that continue to function not as a canon of sacred stories, but as a source for an ongoing Indigenous identity. However, what is of greater importance for the people is that the land and community are part of the story process. This approach to narrative has its own internal integrity that maintains the contours of the story. At the same time, the story can be changed by the storyteller to try to make sense of changing context; then, there is a measure of control not only in the story and in the storyteller but also in the community, a community that includes all beings that are in existence upon the land referred to as North America.

The Role of the Community

The desire for harmony among the Cree and other Indigenous North American peoples means that the community is concerned with all of its relationships. This has implications for Christian theology in that it is part of the landscape of North America and how relationship between Native and Christian is debated among Indigenous peoples. For example, Indigenous scholar George Tinker’s Missionary Conquest seems to be arguing for a separation between Western Christianity and Native American spirituality. Does this not preclude the possibility of Indigenous Christianity? The First Nations community yearns for respect in all its relationships. Thus, the ethics of story and the use of story by the Indigenous community mean that the West must be written into the “sacred” history of the First Nations. A history that precludes newcomers in the new heaven and the new earth does not seem to do justice of the harmony ethic.536

535 Robinson and Wickwire, Write It on Your Heart. 40–52. 536 One interpretation given to the Black Elk's vison was a return of the North American plains to an earlier state that included buffalo and did not include the ‘white man.’ This is counter-intuitive to a First Nations theology that is seeking harmony in all relationships. See Black Elk and John Gneisenau Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks (New York: W. Morrow & Company, 1932).

139 The harmony ethic shapes all aspects of Indigenous life and seeks to hold all things together, including the relationship between the spiritual and the secular. Although currently there is a desire, especially among postmodernists, to recapture the sense of the spiritual in the West, the division between secular and spiritual is a modern Western ideal that is not held by Indigenous people. Tom Holm emphasizes in The Great Confusion in Indian Affairs that Indigenous Americans would make every attempt to maintain a harmonious relationship.537 Although Holm is talking primarily about the relationship to the spiritual, it is natural to assume that a Native American holism would not divide the spiritual from the secular. The latter is a Western construct. Suffice it to say that the First Nations people strive to maintain all relationships, and they do so using narrative. (Chapter five will draw some implications for this desire for harmony and relationship that includes land, which extends the understanding of embodied existence upon the earth.) The desire for a return to spirituality and harmony of relationships is not absent from Western theology. Eugene Peterson observes that the West’s seeming preoccupation with language and desire for spirituality reveals what is genuinely lacking in the West. He goes on to say that the West is unable to overcome this lack of spirituality on its own.538 Although it is not the goal of this thesis to solve the spirituality problems of the West, Indigenous people may help move Western society and theology toward a desired harmony of all relationships, not only the relationship between the spiritual and secular, but all of life’s relationships, including the relationship between Indigenous and Western societies.

For now, suffice it to say that the community, including the story and the storyteller, exercises a kind of control or has as its ideal a communal ethic concerning story. This concern of the community, as mentioned previously, is not satisfied with only those inside the group, but is mindful of the holistic nature of life; thus, it is also concerned with the other. Concern for the other is seen in the inclusion of the newcomer in the story of the people, which aims at moving people toward shared respect and harmony. The desire to make treaty between existing First Nations, and the willingness to make treaty with the Europeans who came to North America, evince this reality. Writing newcomers into the sacred stories takes into account their actions and, perhaps (as in at least one story), tries to correct some of their misunderstandings about the way life was to work out in the land called Turtle Island. Thus, making treaty is an attempt at constructing a shared narrative to share the land. Making treaty reveals that there is an ethic

537 Tom Holm, The Great Confusion in Indian Affairs: Native Americans and Whites in the Progressive Era (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2005), 33. 538 Peterson, Lyster, and Sharon, Subversive Spirituality, 16.

140 about story that is exerted by the community, an ethic of the preservation and advancement of communal identity.

The discussion of treaty as a shared narrative will be taken up below, but it is worth noting here that this is yet another example of Indigenous narrative that makes room for those not specific to one’s local group. The presence of the “intertribal” songs and intertribal dance at any large gathering of people or “powwow”539 points to a desire for the community to include all, even outsiders. At a large gathering where many tribes are present, the intertribal dance is an opportunity for everyone to dance. The songs often share a set of syllables or vocables, not words: sounds that everyone can sing. It is a picture of unity in diversity, with everyone dancing in prayer for the people but not restricted to one language. There is a common understanding of the protocol. It is included in a common understanding to respect those whom one does not understand. Respect contrasts with racism, which degrades people who are different. Respect for the other is a development over time and in response to the changes that have occurred over the years of contact between different tribal groups. The communal value of seeking harmony exerts control over the sacred story so that the other must be accounted for and included.

Again, the keeping of harmony and respect for the sacred meant that one had to make room for those who did not fit into the category of the mundane. For example, if it was known that a person from another nation was engaged in sacred activity such as prayer, then they were given free passage through other groups’ territory. Doug Cuthand points out that the Cypress Hills of Saskatchewan were considered sacred by the Indigenous people and were thus international territory; all peoples had a right to peace when in that territory.540 First Nations people would winter in the Cypress Hills, and the sacredness of that region meant respect was given to all who sought refuge there.

The control or ownership of the story by the community can also be seen in that community’s criteria for validating story. It has already been mentioned that the ceremonies—and, by extension, the stories—are owned by the community and thus cannot be changed just for variety; rather, change follows a prescribed albeit informal procedure. Roger Vandersteene observed that

539 A powwow, for the Cree, was a large gathering where people traded goods, played games, and prayed for a succesful hunting season, or gave thanks for a succesful hunting season. My mother told me that when she went to a powwow, the people would dance for four days and nights. 540 Cuthand, Askiwina: A Cree World, 12–15.

141 the individual spiritual experience had to be validated by the community.541 For the Northern Cree near where my mother grew up, this meant that a dream that came to a person or persons changing a story or ceremony could only effect that change if three different people had the same dream.542 The dream needs to be shared for it to be acknowledged as legitimate. They sought to maintain a balance between the spiritual giftedness of an individual and the receiving people.543 Thus, for a ceremony, story, or song to change, there must be consensus among the group. The corporate cohesion of the group must be maintained for the good of the community.

Another example of control or ethic that the community maintains over story can be seen in the protocol concerning stories. There are certain stories that cannot be told in certain seasons because it is believed that to do so would in some way cause trouble to come to the one who told or heard the story.544 Also, at times, the proper protocol for the listeners of the story is to be silent. In this way, the use of silence communicates the will of the community. Vandersteene noted that a Cree built upon an appropriation of Indigenous understanding should elevate the role of silence, as what is not said occupies a role in communication.545 The community has an ethic over what can and cannot be discussed.

This ethic does not always seem to be a concern in certain parts of the Western world, and thus something is lost; at a minimum what is lost is respect for the wisdom of the community about the appropriateness of mystery preserved by silence about certain subjects. Yazzie Burkhardt points out that the difference between Native American thought and Western thought is that Western thought focuses upon the abstract and theoretical. Thus, silence is uncomfortable. However, among a people that are focused upon living out their knowledge in wisdom, silence fulfills a role for the community because it keeps the ethic of the community.546 The members of the community choose to keep silent about certain subjects, so that the community is preserved or at least respected.547

541 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds, 46. 542 Ibid. 543 Ibid. 544 My daughter attended a culture camp on a reserve near Regina, Saskatchewan. There, a story-teller remarked, “I cannot tell that story in the summer, or the snakes will come and get us.” 545 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds, 138. 546 Brian Yazzie Burkhart, “What Coyote and Thales Can Teach Us,” in American Indian Thought, ed. Anne Waters (Maldan, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 15–26. 547 Paul Ricœur, “Ethics and Human Capability: A Response,” in Paul Ricoeur and Contemporary Moral Thought, ed. William Schweiker John Wall, and W. David Hall (New York: Routledge, 2002), 286.

142 The idea of respecting the dignity of the community and the identity of a people is very much the concern of First Nations people and falls within the concern for ethics expressed by Ricoeur.548 As such, First Nations people had an approach to life concerned with respect for relationship and identity with the preservation of the being of the other. Ethics, then, for the Cree are used to enhance relationship. Here, Ricoeur appears to focus upon the actions of people, aiming at the preservation of an institution so that action may be preserved.549 First Nations, on the other hand, appear to be focused upon the preservation of relationship, aiming at keeping an identity that is extended beyond one’s own life, finding its goal not in more action but in the sustaining of being; a difference in focus and goal, or merely a different description of the same event. The question that this work will leave open is whether the institution extends the being of the individual, or if the institution is a utopian ideal that is subject to critique.550

A further example of the ethic of community can be observed in the comments made by former Episcopal Bishop Gordon Beardy, an Oji-Cree from Northern Ontario. He talked of a desire to see a church in North America that believed that the land was sacred.551 A church that was both Native and Christian would fulfill this desire, and so he expressed his desire for a Native Church to Rev. Mark McDonald, who at the time was considering becoming the bishop of Alaska.552 Beardy wondered if McDonald becoming a bishop would be a sign that such a church was to become a reality. Beardy desired or dreamt of seeing such an Indigenous church but could not see it happening if he remained alone. Only if there were more than one bishop who shared this same vision, would it be attainable. As well, only if there were Bishops who shared the sacredness of land as Native people do, and who were also Christian, could such a church exist in North America.

This anecdote illustrates that the individual is not enough; there must be a communal expression of the Church by the Indigenous community. In this way, there is a legitimate desire by the Native North American people to interpret Christianity and the gospel in a Native North

548 Ibid., 287. 549 Ibid., 289–90. 550 Although it is not in the purview of this thesis, the question of communal identity and the institution is a signficant one. Perhaps the Indigenous conception of identity is at an advantage over the Western conception of group identity, which appears to revolve around . Several authors point out that often ethnicity seems to be at the expense of other ethnicities or ideologies. Indigenous communal identity, on the other hand, seeks to make room for the wellbeing of other groups or ethnicities, as well as their own group. 551 Mark McDonald, “The Gospel Comes to North America,” Journal of North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies 4(2006): 129. 552 This comment comes after hearing Mark McDonald present a paper on the gospel coming to North America in June, 2006, at Asbury Theological Seminary. See ibid.

143 American way. Up to this point, the wider North American Church has not acknowledged it, and even now it is just beginning to happen.553 This desire for the Native community to exercise its understanding of control554 over the gospel story rather than an adaptation of the Western gospel story run through the Western propositional doctrinal grid is a further example of how the community exerts its ethic of story. If it does not exert control, then the story does not belong to the community.

There are other examples of communal ownership or control over story. Returning to the idea of a storyteller as a representative of the community means that to tell stories is an acquired skill and that the stories and ceremonies of a tribal group are handed on in an apprenticeship fashion. One learns to tell stories by hearing them and having them spoken to you and then by telling the stories to others. Hearing and telling, one gains stories and songs. One must tell stories and sing songs respectfully, not, as Tinker points out, to gain a name for oneself or to make money from the tourist, but rather to continue to hand on the wisdom of the group and to maintain the relationships of the people as well as their identity. For example, the community is maintained by the practice of telling stories to children in such a way that children can grasp the stories. It also means that children are a part of the story; it cannot be the same story being passed on if the children cannot understand it as the same story.

Neal McLeod points out that the storyteller echoes the experience of the community. In this way, the storyteller preserves for the community the “intergenerational, collective memory.”555 At the same time, those who listen are as important as the storyteller because the telling of story is an act of remembering publicly, and the listeners are responsible for remembering. The storyteller does not tell the community the point of the story; it is the listener’s responsibility and privilege to hear and make sense of their own life and experience with communal experience put into narrative.556

To reiterate, endowing the listener with a responsibility to hear and respond to the story and learning the craft of storytelling mean that the story is not only the possession of experts but that

553 Ibid. 554 “Control” and “ownership” are not being used here in a proprietory way, but rather in the sense that the group understands that the story is being told about the group. As has been pointed out numerous times, Christiantity and the gospel have often been regarded as foreign to North American Indigenous people, imposed upon them by from outside. 555 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 11. 556 Ibid.

144 there is a continuum of storytellers. Some have more experience than others, but all are attempting to live out the story on the land. The story contains the memory of the people, and so, from young to old, there is a collective memory preserved through the dialogue of the Indigenous people. Shared memory means that the opinions of all can be heard and reflected upon. The listener is endowed with the responsibility to interpret the story, thereby inherently respecting each member of the community.

This last point would result in a child being able to rebuke a theologian who insists that the gospel story could be expressed using different names and places in order that it might be more recognizable to those in, say, the Hindu religion. Calling Jesus by the name of another deity from another religion in search of some universal sense of dependence upon some transcendent being would change the story to the point that a child could observe that what is now being offered as the gospel story is no longer that story. It has become a different story. The particularity of Jesus is missing, so it is a different story. This would be an example of the story, the storyteller, and the community exercising a shared control or ownership of the story. Perhaps this example seems too simplistic, but it occurs to me that part of Hans Frei’s argument concerning the eclipse of the biblical narrative supports this example in that the desire to prove meaningfulness by appealing to some grounds of meaning outside of the story itself results in the gospel story being obscured.557 In other words, the story is no longer the story; according to Frei, the world must be taken into the story of the Bible, not the other way around.558

George Lindbeck also seems to write in favour of a basic minimum of rules that would be needed in order to regard something as being within the boundaries of the gospel story, at least within the ancient Church. It would seem, according to Lindbeck, that monotheism, the historical specificity of Christ, and the maximization of Christ were principles that guided the development of Christology.559 The absence of these would situate a statement outside of the communal language game. The rules of the game are like the idea of the ongoing narrative having basic communal integrity.

Finally, the community’s ethics for story are not only concerned with the people living now but also with the ancestors and with the generations that are to follow. It has been alluded to, but now will be stated plainly: the story must include those who have gone before. This respect for

557 See Frei, The Elipse of Biblical Narrative. 558 Ibid. 559 Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine, 94.

145 the ancestors is common to many North American tribal groups, including the Cree. The Cree honoured their ancestors by including them in the ceremonies of the people. At the midwinter feast and dance, dolls represented the ancestors, and these were given ceremonial food and were carried with the people when they danced.560 These dolls were constructed by collecting a small piece of hair from each deceased relative.561 Slowly, over many generations, the pieces of hair were made into a doll. A whole doll would take hundreds of years to construct and is thought to show respect for ancestors. This points to the ethic of trying to respect those who have come before, and being mindful that when one tells a story, the ancestors as well as those in the present generation must recognize it. Additionally, those who will come after must also be able to share in the story.

The shortcoming of propositional truth is revealed when propositional truth becomes more important than the story or the people. The precision of the language required to encapsulate the truth of the statement is time-sensitive to an individual at a time and place. All who come after that must interpret the proposition, and thus, the narrative of the proposition begins. On the other hand, the story or narrative can be communicated across time and, I propose, across cultures. Propositions embedded in the story do not encapsulate all the meaning of the story. The community is extended, is respected, and exercises an ethic over the story or in concert with the story. Again, it is not that principles are not important, but they are derived from the experience of the story.

Identity within Indigenous story is also extended to include the land. Land exerts control over identity and the story by what is named as well as the sounds that those beings upon the land make. The first way land exerts control over the story is by its description or name in Indigenous language. As noted in the previous chapter, the land takes a name or is given a name because of some particularity of its existence, which includes the beauty or goodness of creation. George Tinker points out that all Indigenous ceremonies begin with the acknowledgment of the other, as Creator, and the goodness of creation.562 The traditional religious system of Indigenous North Americans acknowledges the beauty and harmony of creation and gives thanks for the sustenance that comes from creation. What is significant is that the harmony of creation has resulted in a desire among Indigenous people to maintain harmony. This acknowledgement that

560 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds, 46. 561 Noskey. 562 George E. Tinker, “Creation as Kin,” in After Nature’s Revolt: Eco-Justice and Theology, ed. Dieter T. Hessel (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1992), 147.

146 harmony is already present, that community is already present in creation and must be maintained, means that Indigenous narrative is flowing out of the relationship with the land. Thus, land is part of the family or is kin, as George Tinker observes.

Land and community are intertwined because the land is understood as the place where the sacred is encountered. Vine Deloria gives a variety of reasons why land would be considered sacred. It could be considered sacred to the community because some powerful event occurred at a particular place. Some groups consider the place where treaty was entered into with the Europeans sacred. In this case, it is sacred because something of consequence done by human beings occurred there.563 Sacredness includes places where people died or are buried, just as it does for other cultures. The land is also considered sacred because of the perception of higher powers revealed at certain places. This sacredness of certain places is handed on in the narrative of the Cree people.

The characters within the story may also include land or non-human beings. For example, animals are respected by Indigenous people and are considered part of the family. Thus, some stories give a rationale for why we eat certain animals in a way that they remain respected. For example, two separate stories about the bear from two different communities both legitimate the use of bear for the health of people in a way that respects the bear as other. In one story from the traditional territory of my mother’s people, the justification for eating bear meat is attributed to a legend that indicates the bear permitting the Cree to use its body for food. The story goes that the children of a woman were dying of starvation. The Bear meets the woman and instructs her to send her children to him. When they come to the Bear, he tells the children to kill him and eat his body.564

In another story from the Cree in Saskatchewan, Andrew Ahenakew has a vision in which the Bear shows Andrew how to take parts of the bear to use for medicine.565 What is significant is that because Andrew is a Christian, he is hesitant to do this, but his wife Alice urges him to use these gifts because this is a sacred vision given for the good of the people. For this thesis, what is germane is that the use of the bear for medicine is justified by the vision in addition to being justified by the visionary’s wife and the community at large. This reality is attested to by the

563 Deloria and Treat, For This Land, 205–11. 564 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds. 565 Ahenakew et al., Âh-âyîtaw isi ê-kî-kiskêyihtahkik maskihkiy=They Knew both Sides of Medicine, 10– 11.

147 recording of the vision and the reputation of Andrew Ahenakew as a traditional healer and Anglican minister.

Indigenous communities have a high regard for animals. Respect does not mean that they do not understand that animals provide food and resources for living on the land. It was part of my upbringing to understand that we human beings could live because Creator put animals upon the earth, but we must not merely kill animals or use them in a way that does not maintain the respect and wellbeing of the animals. For example, it was common knowledge in my family that there was a cow moose where we used to hunt that always had twins. Therefore, we avoided shooting her so that there would be more moose to hunt in the future. This practice of respecting animals almost to the point of attributing personhood to them cannot be reduced to , Colin Scott observes.566 He points out that the efforts made by the Cree to live in a symbiotic relationship with the bear, and all animals for that matter, leads them to act in the world in a way that is “practical, social, ethical and self-motivating.”567 The practical knowledge of hunting, conservation, and respect of animals is learned through narrative. This kind of understanding, he believes, lies closer to science than to “animistic” thought.568

The Indigenous understanding of land attempts to locate the story in specific places, namely the places in which Indigenous people find themselves. This is a helpful shift away from the concept of space, a universal concept that does not necessarily refer to any place. The concept of creation within Christian theology would affirm the Indigenous understanding of location and Indigenous specificity would add to the theological concept of Creation. For instance, there is specificity to Irenaeus’ understanding of creation. He notes that understanding oneself as part of creation is necessary for the one true faith.569 Creation, in turn, is affirmed by general revelation, that it is necessary to understand that there is a in order to understand saving faith. Paul seems to allude to this in Acts 17:16-34 when he is proclaiming the gospel at the Areopagus and the presence of a Creator forms the basis of his argument.

To sum up, the interplay between narrative, storyteller, and community reveals that the communal focus of Indigenous identity uses the language of story. Each part of the narrative

566 Colin Scott, “Spirit and Practical Knowledge in the Person of the Bear among Wemindji Cree Hunters,” Ethnos 71(1), 51. 567 Ibid. 568 Ibid., 62. 569 Irenaeus, “Against Heresies,” in Irenaeus of Lyons by Robert M. Grant (London: Routledge, 1997), 3.3.3.

148 event in an Indigenous context retains an inherent dignity conferred on the other. As such, in story the voice of the community is echoed by the storyteller, who maintains the collective memory of the people, which ensures the survival of Indigenous identity, “as long as the rivers run” and the stories are told. This community includes those who no longer are physically alive and those who will come in the future, as well as the land, including the non-human beings that are connected with the land. These are respected to maintain an intrinsic harmony that is observed in nature or creation. The maintenance of the relationships, then, is the desired end of an Indigenous narrative.

The Purpose of Story: The Maintenance of Relationships

For Indigenous people, the ethics of story maintain respect for all the categories570 of relationship. The story maintains a relationship with the land or creation. It upholds the relationship with the Creator and spiritual beings. As well, the story maintains the relationships within the tribal unit, while also seeking to reach beyond the tribal unit to include the relationships with other groups of people. Finally, the story helps impart a sense of personal identity, the relationship with oneself. The story only succeeds in maintaining these areas of relationship if it is told and heard. If it is taken out of the context of these relationships, the story ceases to function. In other words, for Indigenous people, if the story is not told, and if it is not heard, then it is lost, and it must be told in a shared context to maintain the harmony of relationships. Indigenous narrative is dynamic and is seeking to reach beyond itself, always striving toward community. The purpose of this is not to make the other like oneself, but to live in a good way with the other. This reality, the existence of the other and the need to maintain harmony through story, can be observed in Indigenous narrative.

Chief Dan George captures the idea of losing some aspect of story and relationship in a poem called “The Wolf Ceremony”:

570 “Categories” are not something used by my Cree elders; I am using this word to make my descriptioin of how story works understandable to a Western audience. The Cree people, and, for that part, most North American Indigenous tribes, would see relationship as being of utmost importance to life. It would be viewed in a holistic fashion, always attempting to describe the whole and the movement that was occuring.

149 The Wolf Ceremony571 The poem has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

This example captures in an emotive way the idea that for story to continue it must be told and it must be heard. If this does not occur, then some factor of relationship is changed, or perhaps even lost. For Chief Dan George, the absence of the cry of the wolf in response to his call meant that a primary relationship with creation was lost because the wolves were gone from the area of his people. His grandson’s identity will not be the same because a member of the community is missing. The wolf does not answer back, and yet the echo of the cry of the wolf remains in Chief Dan George’s poem or narrative. It conveys not only the memory of the cry of the wolf but also the pain of losing the relationship between the wolf and the people. What is significant is the surplus of possibilities that exist for points of understanding from the audience as Chief Dan George makes this point through poetry and story, capturing the changing reality for many Indigenous North Americans.

The story must be told, or something is lost. Philosopher Richard Kearny, writing about stories, reiterates that unless a story is told, and unless someone listens, it does not accomplish its purpose.572 The performative nature of story is also part of a theology of preaching. In the preaching event, the word becomes flesh once more or at least has the potential to become flesh.573 The storyteller and listeners are taken into the story and become participants in a shared identity. It could be debated whether or not this resulting identity lasts longer than the preaching event, but while the story is being told, the storyteller and listener are sharing an identity by way of the shared story.

Kearney also points out that a nation’s founding myths serve as a basis for the development of group identity.574 However, these myths need to be deconstructed and a new story told so that a new identity can develop that does not demonize the ‘other’ for the sake of some colonial vision of expansion.575 Kearney echoes the importance of story for the development of identity, but

571 Chief Dan George, “The Wolf Ceremony,” Spirit Voices, http://www.thegoldweb.com/voices/chiefgeorge.htm. 572 Kearney, On Stories, 126. 573 See Thomas G. Long, The Witness of Preaching, 2nd ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), 36–47. 574 Kearney, On Stories, 118–28. 575 Ibid.

150 what is significant for this chapter is the observation that the stories of the dominant nations must be decolonized in order to be usable for both the dominant group and for those who have been the object of said dominance. The ramifications of this for theology are that the gospel story, as a story appropriated by Western society, with its emphasis upon individual salvation and faith, cannot be allowed to be reduced to a particular reading that cuts off Indigenous people as a group and reduces them to autonomous individuals.

Thus, the shared story produces, or at least has the potential to produce, a shared identity. Perhaps one could use the word ‘context’ instead of identity, for if one is going to have a shared identity, then it would seem to necessary for there to be a co-commitment to that reality or desire. In other words, one could not force someone to share a story and an identity. To use violence to indoctrinate would amount to torture and humiliation. Any identity shared between an abuser and an abused person would be, on some level, illegitimate.

This illegitimate relationship or, one could say, the illegitimate aspects of an abusive relationship, are present in the relationship between Indigenous identity and Christian identity. The result of the residential schools and other abusive policies must be able to be worked through as narratives in order for healing to occur. Amid the abuse, identity was attacked by the residential school system. Now that the residential schools are closed, the stories must be told to work through the abuse and find healing. In this way, the narratives remain, but they are told with the aim of healing from the pain.

Dene author Ila Bussidor, writing about her people’s forced exile from their land that saw the destruction of many of their people, says, “Before healing can begin, the injury must be described.”576 The story of the injury itself is a gift, because if it is entered into by those who caused the pain,577 it allows the abuser to take responsibility for the abuse, and for both the abuser and the abused to move toward healing. In this way, story continues to be a way forward for Indigenous people to seek harmony in all relationships, even though those relationships contain painful stories. This all aims at healing all levels of relationships. However, it must be carried out in a safe context. The narratives can remember what occurred and be set within a new context or be enabled to remember in a different way. At least, this is the hope of Jeremy

576 Ila Bussidor and Üstün Bilgen-Reinart, Night Spirits: The Story of the Relocation of the Sayisi Dene, Manitoba Studies in Native History (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1997), xix. 577 Sophie McCall, First Person Plural: Aboriginal Storytelling and the Ethics of Collaborative Authorship (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2012), 111.

151 Bergen’s Ecclesial Repentance. He proposes that acts of repentance by the Canadian Church might enable people to remember the stories but to tell them with the hope of moving toward healing.578 I would say that this is only possible if the stories of the victims of the residential schools and other abusive policies are also told. Telling helps to ground the stories in this land and not be forgotten too quickly, lest the same things occur again. The stories of the survivors of abuse are a gift and must be told in order to enter the dialogue of how to heal from these acts.

If the ancient treaty process is seen as a covenant, again, it provides a way toward a shared narrative. Consider, for example, a wedding ceremony as an example of a voluntarily shared identity. This example will prove useful later, in the discussion of treaty, but for now I will say that a wedding ceremony is a recognized way for two people to be joined together and to form a shared identity. They covenant together in order to be joined, and this joining together has legal ramifications. These legal ramifications are not the primary focus, however; rather, the focus is upon proper relatedness. In the words of scripture, the two become one, creating a shared identity for the rest of the couple’s ‘narrated’ lives. They voluntarily enter into the shared relationship. In the case of the story, the level of entry into the shared relationship may vary, but the shared context does not. If set within the larger context of covenant, the story and stories, even if they contain abuse, provide the context with which to work through the difficulties.

Kathryn Tanner points out that a shared context influences identity.579 Her description of identity focuses on the development of Christian identity.580 For example, there are ways in which even those who do not share the same attitudes toward belief in God still shape the ‘Christian’ identity of those sharing the same context.581 This idea would lend support to the idea that in telling and hearing a story, there is a shared context and the potentiality of shared identity. In her book, Tanner is attempting to critique the modern conception of culture and to point out that, in a shifting cultural landscape, overly optimistic proponents of modern progress inflate the level of consensus among participants in culture. What is occurring is not so much a consensus as a shared context.582 One may agree with Tanner’s point, but it appears that in order for a harmonious society to exist, there must be some voluntary commitment to society. This

578 Jeremy M. Bergen, Ecclesial Repentance: The Churches Confront Their Sinful Pasts (London: T&T Clark International, 2011), 125–29. 579 Kathryn Tanner, Theories of Culture: A New Agenda for Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997), 93–155. 580 Ibid., 108–09. 581 Ibid., 108. 582 Ibid., 93–155.

152 commitment is seen in the ancient treaty process and is useful in the Canadian context. Merely being present in the same context is no guarantee of greater intimacy and solidarity between people in a community.583 There must be some point at which a person is considered to be part of society. All this lends support to the existence of a shared identity, although one might argue that Tanner has rejected the idea of shared identity and is merely locating self within the autonomous individual. If this is the case, then the proposal of this thesis would give hope that the development of a communal story might provide movement forward in a ‘hyper-individualistic’ world.

Relationship to Land

Indigenous people understand that a familial relationship with land is primary to identity, and they use narrative to maintain said identity. Again, the storyteller and community are in a specific place that is referenced in stories. The particularity of the place mentioned validates the narrative. Whether it comes in the form of legend, historical narrative, or local oral tradition, the reference to a specific place gives validity to the story and allows for the listeners of the story to be active participants. Three stories about Indigenous people and land will illustrate the different kinds of narratives that strengthen the connection between land and Indigenous identity.

First, one creation story of Turtle Island, or North America,584 tells of a woman coming to an island created on the back of a turtle.585 Thomas King captures the story in his book The Truth About Stories in which he chronicles how North America came into existence. In the story, the woman falls from above and is going to fall into water, but she is caught before she strikes the water. The animals then dive to the bottom of the sea and bring up mud and construct North America on the back of a turtle. The children of the woman form the first ancestors of people and reveal the relationship between Indigenous people and the land, namely, that the land and Indigenous people are created together, revealing their Indigenous identity.

The second story comes from a land claims case in British Columbia referred to as the Delgamuukw decision. In the Delgamuukw land claim, the elders and chiefs of the tribes in a specific part of British Columbia sang and danced traditional songs and dances, which enacted

583 I am borrowing the phrase “intimacy and solidarity” from Henry Nouwen. See Henri J. M. Nouwen, Lifesigns-Intimacy, Fecundity, and in Christian Perspective (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1986). 584 “Turtle Island” refers to North America. This name is used by several Indigenous groups in Canada and the United States in their creation stories. 585 King, The Truth About Stories.

153 their relationship with the land.586 They stated that these traditions were their claim to said lands. This case, which is still ongoing today, reveals how identity for the Delgamuukw First Nations is maintained with not just North America in general, but with the disputed area of land. These songs and dances did not describe boundary lines, but rather described animals and territory that was disputed and the relationship of the tribe to these animals, plants, and lands.587 These songs had been handed down from generation to generation, proving identity in relation to a specific place. As such, this story is not only legend, but could be called ceremonial history.

The third kind of story was told by Saskatchewan Cree and Salteaux elders in relation to their specific reserve lands. One story from the George family of Ochapowace relates how there used to be two reserves, but one reserve was lost, and its inhabitants were pushed onto the territory of the neighbouring reserve.588 Another story from the same family tells of settlers who moved the boundary stakes of the reserve land the night after government surveyors put the stakes into the ground.589 The validity and details of the two stories may be disputed; it may not have been settlers who moved the boundary stakes. However, it was common knowledge that land was taken from several Southern Saskatchewan reserves, including Ochapowace. Duncan Scott proposed that Indigenous reserve land be purchased to be used in the “Soldier Settlement” plan after World War I.590 What is important for this thesis is the relating of the connectedness to place by this First Nations family preserved in the oral tradition.

If taken together, these three examples point out that for Indigenous story the relationship with land is what holds together stories that differ in their historicity from Western accounts. The first story may be conceived of as a myth or legend, the second as a ceremonial history, and the third as an alternative history. It is generally understood in the Western world that the latter is closest to fact and that the former lies in the realm of fantasy. However, this division is not present in the same manner in Indigenous communities.

586 Canada, “Judgments of the Supreme Court of Canada: Delgamuukw v. British Columbia [1991] 3 S.C.R. 1010.” 587 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across.’”, 308. 588 I heard from Clifford George, who heard it from his father, that another reserve called Kaksihaway was dissolved and its inhabitats forced onto Ochapowace reserve in Saskatchewan. 589 This was a common discussion I heard while living in Regina, Saskatchewan. It was purported that settlers moved the surveyors’ boundary markers of the reserve. The result was a reserve that was one mile smaller than the area originally surveyed for Ochapowace reserve. 590 Sarah Carter, “‘An Infamous Proposal:’ Prairie Indian Reserve Land and Soldier Settlement After World War I,” Manitoba History, no. 37 Spring/Summer (1999).

154 The first story of land is a story that cannot be verified, but it tells of the relationship between the children of the woman and the land called Turtle Island. The second is a song or dance in which a story is acted out that shows the relationship between the land and the people of a specific area. The third is a story of the people on the land and how interlopers are working to break the relationship with the land. All three stories speak to the real relationship between people and the land. The stories share the common elements of land and the people.

This idea of shared identity within the context of story or narrative is not limited to Indigenous people,591 but for Indigenous people, the shared stories are vital for the development and retention of identity. Of course, this includes identity in relation to land. An Indigenous conception of identity includes relationship to land that goes beyond mere ownership of land. The relationship to land includes all the other relationships in one’s life. It includes an emotive connection to land or place, but not merely in the sense of an emotive feeling one has when standing upon the earth; it is a matter of existence for Indigenous people.

Many who came from Europe also had this desire for identity. The idea of land held the promise of a new beginning. If one owned land, then one could gain a new identity. For the Indigenous people, it was not so much about having land as a possession, because for Indigenous people the essence of ownership of land is not about one person owning the land;592 rather, the land is in relationship with the entire community. Whereas the Western world sees the primacy of owning land, the land owns Indigenous people, or there is a certain life that belongs to the land. The goal is to live that life in harmony with the land and off the land. The solution to preserving the life and relationship with the land after the coming of settlers, from an Indigenous perspective, was to enter into treaty with the newcomers. The treaties, particularly the numbered treaties of the Canadian plains, were viewed as living covenants: not like contracts, but more like relationships. The treaty was to be a shared narrative to enable people to share space and enter new relationships with one another. Living covenants require continual attention: They must be told, they must be heard, and they must be lived. However, the tension over land between Indigenous people and the Canadian federal government continues even today.

Returning to the example of the Quebec Cree of Northern Canada, these people have long resisted open-ended development of their traditional lands for the sake of hydroelectric projects.

591 Charles Taylor argues that the imaginaries that order society are changing. See Charles Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries, Public Planet Books (Durham: Duke University Press, 2004). 592 McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90’s.”

155 At one point, the Quebec Cree rejected a significant amount of money from the Canadian federal government because, in exchange for cash, they would see their land flooded. The Cree’s rationale for rejecting the money was that a sustainable in harmony with the land would be eliminated if the land were flooded.593 In essence, the story of the community living on the land would end if the land were flooded. Thousands of years of practical wisdom preserved in Indigenous narrative memory would be eliminated. Therefore, the hydroelectric project was resisted. All this gives clear indication that a relationship with all of creation is the desire. This relationship with land and creation does not exclude relationship with people. The Quebec Cree and other Indigenous people in Canada continue to desire a mutual relationship between newcomers and themselves.594 They also want to maintain their identity, and their relationship with the land is a key element of this identity.

It is also important to state that this identity with land as relative is not limited to the preservation of identity or lifestyle that existed in the distant past. Indigenous people are not a new ‘Luddite’ movement; however, they are seeking to utilize appropriate technology for a specific purpose: the preservation of community. An evolving sense of identity is significant because it reveals that identity for Indigenous people is dynamic and not static, attempting to change when change is necessary but questioning change only for the sake of change or money.

The myth of modern progress would attempt to fix Indigenous identity as the ‘noble savage’ incapable of abstract thought and development without the civilizing influence of the West.595 Present attempts by non-Indigenous government to limit the rights of Indigenous land title to what existed before the coming of Europeans are an example.596 On the other hand, Indigenous governments argue that they have always attempted to plan for the future. They pray for their grandchildren and attempt to put into place agreements and plans that will guarantee life and land for their descendants. Thomas King points out that Indigenous people are never the ‘Indians’ people wanted them to be.597 It is not difficult to understand how an argument that seeks to locate and limit Indigenous identity to something in the past when it comes to land rights and usage will also manifest itself in the theological realm. The modernist evangelical

593 Fiet, “Hunting and the Quest for Power.” 594 Ibid. 595 John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 1995). 596 McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90’s.” 597 King, The Truth About Stories.

156 propensity to put forward a theology of replacement for the evangelized heathen will thus tend to attempt to limit Indigenous identity and voice in the theological discourse.598

Returning to the relationship between land and Indigenous identity, the land claims case referred to as the Delgamuukw decision highlights how the relationship with the disputed land is maintained by the Indigenous people performing their stories and song, which describe or are set within the context of the creation they have occupied as a people for thousands of years. What is significant for this thesis is that the Indigenous people claiming the land, the Gitxsan and the Wet’suwet’en, presented their stories, dance, and ceremony as evidence of their relationship with the land.599 The stories showed that this relationship was older than the coming of European nations, and spoke of the First Nations people travelling through the land.600 Their identity as a people was in relationship with a specific territory. However, the judge in the case would not hear this oral tradition as evidence, and because he could not hear the Indigenous narrative accounts as evidence, he could not agree that the Gitxsan had title to the land.601 The emphasis here is upon a Western judge not being able to hear oral tradition as evidence for land title because it did not fit his category of evidence. Thus, because he could not hear the stories or songs, he was not able to enter the stories, and consequently he denied a vital aspect of the identity of Indigenous people, that aspect having to do with the land. Judge McEachern, who was the judge in the initial land claims case, ruled that Indigenous people did not have the same sophistication of relationship with the land as Western people did. Thus, the colonial categories of the first Europeans, who claimed the land was empty, were still able to determine his categories for identity, ownership, and evidence.

This entire discussion lends support to how story functions to maintain relationship, not only a relationship between persons but also between persons and the land or creation. The story maintains the Indigenous identity, as evidenced by their presenting their stories, songs, and ceremonies as evidence of their relationship with the land. The judge’s denial of these stories as evidence of a claim to relationship with land was a denial of their ownership of the land by European colonial standards. This serves as a foil to point out how, if in law concerning

598 Charles Taylor explains that the modern minset with regard to developing nations was to try and replace the receptor culture’s technology with Western technology, and by implication the Western culture attempted to replace the receptor culture as well. See Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries. 599 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 307. 600 Ibid. 601 Ibid.

157 ownership of land, evidence, and identity, one only hears story with great difficulty, then a Western theology that shares with the modern Western court categories of evidence would have the same difficulty hearing Indigenous voice concerning the importance of land and place for identity. Western evangelical theology, when preoccupied with certain categories of truth, has developed a form of propositional theology that is not easily translatable into the lives of Indigenous people and that instead serves as replacement theology at worst and adapted Western thought at best. Such an approach to theology has hindered and will continue to hinder the development of an Indigenous theology. However, if a narrative approach that makes room for Indigenous story is adopted, then there is the possibility of the development of an Indigenous theology: an theology that holds the land as sacred, people as a vital part of creation, and spirituality as intrinsic to the relationships of life.

Turning again to the Delgamuukw land claim, although Judge McEachern rejected the west coast people’s stories and songs as evidence of their title to the land, in 1998 the Supreme Court of Canada acknowledged that although difficult to interpret, story is a valid form of evidence regarding land.602 The point here is that story has formed a significant basis for the forming of Indigenous identity, and the supreme court of Canada was willing to concede this fact.

The implication of this for theology is that a narrative approach will prove more fruitful when attempting to communicate into Indigenous cultures what is particular about Christian theology. This is especially true if the gospel story becomes part of the bundle of stories Indigenous people use to understand how to live in a good way upon the earth. The western theological proposition comes at the end of a long process of internalizing the gospel story and then codifying those truth statements. Indigenous theology also needs to begin with the gospel story and work through the implications for communal life of those stories. Indigenous theology may arrive at some of the same conclusions in its theology, but its emphasis will be upon how said theology works out regarding a communal identity.

The discussion of the Delgamuukw land claim case and a narrative concept of land title have implications for the treaty relationship, particularly how Indigenous and newcomers will share space to form a shared identity. On the topic of the treaty relationship, Kent McNeil points out

602 McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90’s,” 7.

158 significant differences between Indigenous title to land and other Canadian citizens’ title to land, and how these differences highlight the communal nature of Indigenous identity:

The Supreme Court affirmed earlier characterizations of Aboriginal title as sui generis; that is, as an interest in land that is in a class of its own. The fact that Aboriginal title cannot be sold or transferred is one aspect of this uniqueness. Another is the title’s collective nature—it can only be held by a community of Aboriginal people, not by individuals. The sources of Aboriginal title also distinguish it from other land titles, which usually originate in Crown grants. Because the Aboriginal peoples were here before the Crown asserted sovereignty, their title is derived from the dual source of their prior occupation and their pre-existing systems of law.603

For the sake of this work, what is significant are the ideas that title is collective, that it cannot be sold or transferred, and that it belongs to Indigenous communities, not individuals. Indigenous people have a collective identity that extends at least to their tribal nation. They view themselves as being in a treaty relationship with another group of people represented by the crown or the federal government. The federal government is only now beginning to understand the power of story and of a collective Indigenous identity, evinced by the many years it took even to begin to acknowledge Indigenous story as evidence of Indigenous title. A shared story in which Indigenous communal title is affirmed and Canadian federal government authority is preserved could lead to a shared identity upon shared space, which is at the heart of the treaty relationship. Thus, Indigenous land claims, although seeming to threaten the rubric of individual ownership, end up creating the possibility of a more harmonious relationship in shared space, which flows out of an Indigenous desire for harmonious relationship with the land and extends that relationship to and with those who are newcomers to the land. An Indigenous desire for harmony counteracts any charges that Indigenous people desire merely to preserve their land and their own identity. They desire to be in harmonious relationship in shared space. At the same time, they are not advocating forced assimilation of one cultural group into another group. Their desire is a living relationship between diverse groups, a relationship that is made possible via a shared narrative in the land.

The idea of a shared narrative forming a basis for communal identity has implications for theology. Theology from a people whose focus is upon the autonomous individual will struggle with how communal identity and individual identity work in concert with one another. Pannenberg illustrates this reality when he points out that the modern conception of individual

603 Ibid., 7–8.

159 rights is not always a friend to community.604 On the inside of community is where the individual can be truly human. Only by approaching the gospel story as the first thing will the universal ecumenism that Pannenberg longs for find its fulfilment. Thinking again of the modern quest for universal truth statements, modern truth statements, ironically, do not contain enough truth when they cut off the surplus of meaning that is necessary for the gospel to travel across cultures.

The non-transferability of Western fundamentalist proposition, even from one Christian group to another, let alone one culture to another, is evidence of the need for a surplus of meaning. For example, George Lindbeck points out that ‘doctrinal reconciliation’ reaches an impasse because opposing ‘Christian’ groups cannot change their doctrinal statement, because to do so would violate their strict sense of what is ‘true.’605 To overcome this impasse and find a way forward, Lindbeck proposes looking at the problem through a “cultural-linguistic” lens.606 We will return to this idea later, but for now it is important to note that in seeking to find a solution to theological ‘loggerheads,’ Lindbeck seeks a bigger space in which opposing views may converse and move toward a solution that does not involve one or both groups abandoning their respective positions. If Lindbeck can see the necessity of moving outside of a purely analytical framework, and if he is willing to view different Christian faith traditions as cultural expressions to achieve a solution and ecumenism that affirms each, how much more is there a need for another approach to doing theology among people who are culturally distinct? Cultural differences result in different approaches to theological conclusions; will they then not also result in differing theological enterprise and praxis? There is a need for a larger starting place for theology in which Indigenous theology may also find a place to function. The gospel story or canon of scripture is the only story large enough to fit all nations.

However, Indigenous people must be able to see themselves as part of this gospel story. This involves reading the gospel story as a part of their story. Again, Indigenous people have a communal focus upon identity that includes group-to-group relations. They must be able see how the integrity of the group is maintained and not violated by an overly individualistic conception of the gospel. The focus on group-to-group relationship is evinced in the focus and findings of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples: “Following five years of research and dialogue,

604 Pannenberg, What is Man? 94. 605 Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine, 16. 606 Ibid., 32–45.

160 the RCAP report summarized its central conclusion: The main policy direction pursued for more than 150 years, first by colonial then by Canadian governments, has been wrong.”607 It has been wrong because the modern Canadian government struggles to acknowledge the Indigenous nations that lie within its nation-state. It struggles to understand this group’s focus on identity.

In the same way, in its missionary efforts among Indigenous people in North America, the Western church has tended to export a gospel that is in the language of proposition predicated upon the language and the focus of the autonomous individual. There is a need for a new language of community, a new emphasis on community, and a fresh approach to the theological enterprise. Many evangelical scholars understand this, as outlined in chapter two. They emphasize the need for a re-appropriation of the gospel as the story of the community. Indigenous peoples’ understanding of how story works in the context of community proves helpful because story must be a first-order discourse for communal identity; this affirms the necessity of the gospel story or canon of scripture as a first-order discourse. In this way, different groups may find shared space for an identity that affirms difference and unity at the same time. Indigenous people believe that identity that includes land or creation makes story invaluable to such a unity.

Relationships Between Individual and Group and Between Groups

Indigenous relationships and identity are maintained by voluntarily entering the story. The storyteller and the listener share a context, and thus they share the potential for developing a shared identity. This identity is not limited to the two of them, for the story does not only project an encapsulated meaning but also maintains the identity of those who have handed on the story to those who have come after. As Sophie McCall points out, story is a back-and-forth relationship between many tellers and many listeners.608 As a result, the identity of the individual is expanded beyond herself or himself. In this context, the identity of those who have come before is in solidarity with those who are hearing the story that those who came before encountered. Those who will come in future generations will also share a narrated identity as they hear and enter the shared story. Thus, story maintains identity between persons, but not only living persons, because those who have gone before are also present in the story.

607Aboriginal Task Force, “Aboriginal Task Force Response to the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples,” (Markham, ON: Evangelical Fellowship of Canada, c2000). 608 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 306.

161 The craft of storytelling is built upon the idea that one can identify with different parts of the story. In this way, the imagination of those hearing the story and the imagination of the storyteller help to make the story more interesting, and I would suggest also enable one to enter a shared identity with those who have come before. Also, to the extent that one shares in this story and, in turn, hands on the story, one shares an identity with those generations that will come later. Thus, the story conveys not only meaning but also an identity.

For example, Denis Tedlock, one of many ethnographers who have observed Indigenous storytellers, points out that the storyteller can erase space and time and personal distance within a story by drawing people into the story with the use of different storytelling devices. The storyteller constantly moves back and forth between then and now.609 The listener is drawn into a world that is, in a sense, ‘timeless.’ This attempt to reach a context of timelessness is one of the points raised by Eliade when he states that primitive societies are attempting to destroy time.610 Although Tedlock does not share Eliade’s description of what is occurring as an attempt to destroy time, there is a shared observation that story and ceremony have an impact on time. In the case of Indigenous people, there is an attempt to maintain identity and relationship using story that extends over a long time. It is not that time is erased, but rather that considering the enormity of time highlights the brief instance of one’s earthly existence. The story becomes large enough to contain not only the present storyteller and listener, but also the storytellers and listeners from the past and the future.

Further support for this proposal can be found by continuing to examine the treaty relationships between Indigenous Canada and the Crown and Canadian federal government as an attempt at shared narrative leading to communal identity. As stated in chapter two, from an Indigenous perspective the treaty relationship was important because of the relationships that were described within it and are involved in keeping the treaty. The Creator, the newcomers, and Indigenous people were and are all involved in the ongoing treaty process. In this way, the treaty relationship and the ongoing treaty process, when viewed as an unfolding narrative identity between different groups of people within the land described as Canada, presents an enlarged sense of identity that has specific implications for an identity lived out upon the earth. This is not merely a political identity that exists in a thought experiment or a ‘romantic’ notion of times gone by, but an

609Regna Darnell and Michael K. Foster quoting Dennis Tedlock, Native North American Interaction Patterns (Hull, QC: Canadian Museum of Civilization, National Museums of Canada, 1988), 84. 610 See Eliade, The Myth of the Eternal Return or Cosmos and History.

162 identity that projects a reality moving forward that encompasses all within the Canadian body politic. Their ability to enter the relationship seems, in part, contingent upon their understanding of and acting out of the implications of this narrative of relationship.

From an Indigenous perspective, the treaty relationship from its inception is a relationship between nations. The desire of Indigenous people for nation-to-nation relationship is evinced by the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People.611 This report, written for the Government of Canada in 1996, expresses the wish, will, and intent of Indigenous people in Canada for a nation- to-nation or group-to-group relationship.612 This group-to-group relationship can be seen in the Iroquoian two-row wampum belt: two rows of coloured beads set upon a leather belt with white beads. The two rows of parallel beads represent two canoes upon a river, both occupying space in the river, and both equal and distinct while sharing a journey. The two-row wampum belt represents a nation-to-nation relationship between Iroquois and the government of Canada. According to Ken-A-Rah-Di-Yoh, the two-row wampum belt

symbolizes the agreement under which the Iroquois/Haudenosaunee welcomed the white peoples to their lands. “We will NOT be like father and son, but like brothers. These TWO ROWS will symbolize vessels, travelling down the same river together. One will be for the Original People, their laws, their customs, and the other for the European people and their laws and customs. We will each travel the river together, but each in our own boat. And neither of us will try to steer the other’s vessel.613

Image removed because of copyright restrictions

Figure 3. Wampum belt614

As mentioned in previous chapters, the narrative nature of treaty is debated. The Canadian government has looked at the treaty relationship as a contract to be fulfilled, with a set of legal obligations, but something outside of the regular life and identity of the Canadian body politic. This attitude can be found in the rhetoric of political parties who in the past have looked at the treaty relationship as something that could be extinguished. If the treaty is something contingent on Canadian identity, then it is not functioning as a narrative of identity. This may seem to erode

611 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back.” 612 Ibid. 613 Ken-A-Rah-Di-Yoh, “Treaties Recorded on Wampum Belts,” http://www.degiyagoh.net/treaties.htm#treaty_belts. 614 Ibid.

163 the proposal that treaty can function as a narrative of shared identity, because the Canadian body politic struggles to acknowledge Indigenous involvement, but I suggest it serves to illustrate that the Canadian federal government’s hesitancy to enter the story supports my earlier point, that a shared identity is something that one enters voluntarily. It must be the result of free choice. If one can choose to enter a shared identity, then one can also choose not to enter that shared identity. The federal government believes that one can opt out of the treaty relationship or only fulfill the contractual obligations and then move on.

However, for First Nations people, the treaty functions as an ongoing narrative. It is vital, and it is sacred, for it takes in the Creator, Indigenous people, and non-Indigenous people. The difference in attitude toward the treaty demonstrates the communal identity of Indigenous people who seek to live within the treaty as an ongoing narrative, while others choose to discount the treaty as something that occurred between different people, a long time ago. These different understandings of treaty reveal first that the idea of group identity will influence how a group approaches issues of identity. Those who focus upon the autonomous individual will tend to look at the treaty as something that exists in the past, and as having nothing of significance for the present, except the duty to fulfill the contractual obligations. In other words, with a perception of identity that is limited to the autonomous individual, this treaty has no significance for the here and now, because I did not sign the treaty. On the other hand, when regarded as an unfolding narrative of an ongoing relationship between two groups attempting to live in a good way upon the land, the treaty becomes a place of fruitful engagement.

Indigenous people view treaty as covenant, a living narrative that takes in all, which results in an Indigenous communal identity that includes not only the present generation but also the future generations. It is a covenant because of who is involved: Indigenous people and newcomers, but also the Creator. The treaty is a narrative of beings. Treaty as narrative allows the concept of Indigenous communal identity to extend back to ancestors and forward to grandchildren. Thus, a sacred treaty must be told in a way that allows for its continuance and the continuance of those taken in by the treaty. My thesis is not trying to make a judgment on the legitimacy of treaty but merely arguing for the idea that narrative helps to form identity. Identity between Indigenous people and land was seen with our previous discussion of the Delgamuukw contention that their ceremony and songs (another version of story) are an enactment of their relationship with the land, and I would say with creation. Now, with the discussion of treaty, if treaty is viewed as a living narrative that seeks to form an identity between Indigenous people and newcomers to the

164 land called Canada, it reveals that narrative is large enough in the minds of Indigenous people to maintain relationship between groups of people, ‘nation to nation.’

For Indigenous people, the treaty process is kept alive through story because it is the best means of preserving the good relationships between Indigenous people, the newcomers, the Creator, and the land. The story of the treaty, like all Indigenous stories, is open-ended and dynamic because life continues to unfold. So, the story must continue to grow and change.615 It is firmly situated in the past but also continues, not just as the future relationship of Indigenous people and newcomers, but the relationship that all share who live upon this land.

For example, Fort Qu’Appelle, Saskatchewan, the place where Treaty 4 was signed, is considered sacred. Every year, treaty days commemorate the signing of Treaty 4 on the land where it was originally signed. Commemorating and continuing a treaty relationship seeks to live in harmony upon the land and passes along the ongoing narrative memory, a narrative memory that begins with the accounting of the relationship of the original Indigenous peoples, the land, the Creator, and the forming of relationship with the newcomers to the territory. For Indigenous people in Canada, these narratives form the basis for Indigenous people’s as well as newcomers’ claim to space within Canada,616 as well as inform all people of the way to live in a good way upon the land, group to group.

The discussion of treaty and identity and narrative has implications for the relationship between the Canadian government and Indigenous peoples but also for the relationship between theology and Indigenous people. First, as mentioned in chapter one, Indigenous people took the presence of missionaries and priests at the negotiations of the treaties as evidence of the sacredness of the treaty. Ila Bussidor notes how former priest and missionaries at times served to Indigenous people to enter the treaty,617 showing that the Church functioned as a kind of guarantor of the treaty. The treaty as a spiritual covenant is binding not only on the political bodies in Canada but on the Church as well. It might be debated whether the authority of the treaty is legislative or moral, but the implication of this relationship does have implications for the Church.

615 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 11. 616 Ibid., 36. 617 Bussidor and Bilgen-Reinart, 14–31.

165 Second, in the same way that story functions with Indigenous communities and in the lives of Indigenous people to form identity, so also an Indigenous Christian identity must be able to be expressed within Christian theology. However, the gospel story or canon of scripture must be the first thing, and theological proposition must be a necessary second thing. If this order is reversed, then there is a danger that the propositions will disqualify the participation of Indigenous people from entering the gospel story. They would be cut off by the very thing that another culture finds useful to work out the gospel in their lives; that useful thing may prove a stumbling block for the development of Indigenous Christian identity. I will not belabour this point, but merely point out that the gospel story or application of the canon of scripture as story is a large enough place to include Indigenous people.618 The gospel story plus Indigenous identity provides the possibility of an Indigenous theology that makes a unique contribution to the growing body of theological knowledge. The inclusion of an Indigenous contribution to theological knowledge would result in an enlarged identity for the Church. Not only would Indigenous people gain an enlarged identity from the input of other cultures and peoples across the history of the Church, but the Church would benefit from a unique Indigenous understanding that emphasizes a focus on the communal aspects of identity.

Relationship to the Spiritual and Spiritual Beings

Indigenous story maintains the relationship with spiritual things; in fact, it is understood that the story in Cree is called sacred or traditional.619 In keeping with viewing Indigenous story as performative, Indigenous story concerning spiritual things fulfills two primary purposes. Again, these purposes are a construct for the sake of discussion in this thesis. In the Indigenous context, these things flow into one another; however, these two purposes would receive a broad consensus based upon what I have heard from elders. First, Indigenous stories about the sacred establish the connection between Indigenous people and the land or creation. As has already been mentioned, this means that all things in life are connected. The stories do not aim to present a pantheon of gods but do aim to establish that the Creator is good because creation is good, and Creator and creation provide for people.

Second, the purpose of religion or the sacred is to teach people to be thankful. Again, this points back to a comment by Chief Arthur Noskey that the essence of the Cree traditional religious

618 Karl Barth talks about the necessity of faith being expressed in the laguage of “everyday man.” See Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Outline (New York: Philosophical Library, 1949), 32. 619 Bloomfield, Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree, 6.

166 system is a circle of thanksgiving. In the fall, before winter, ceremony and prayer were made asking for a good hunting season. In the spring, thanks was given for a good hunting season. The whole goal of narrative helps us to remember that we are only people and must rely on everything else to survive. As the Cherokee prayer acknowledges, “Creator, you are great, but I am only a human, and I am weak; please help us.” Stories are used to teach how one is to live and to how one is to relate to things in the earth. As we have already seen, “sacred” is applied by Indigenous people to all things on the earth. The land is sacred, the relationships with other people and other groups of people are considered sacred, and there are spiritual beings.620 Again, sacred from an Indigenous perspective does not mean that said space or object could not be used for the mundane or profane, as the distinction is not as rigid as some Western conceptions of the term. Sacred means that at any moment, something can be used by a spiritual being and is thus terrifying, and at the next moment this same thing would be mundane.621 The idea of sacred is not absolute as it is in the European tradition.622

It also needs to be said that story, as it relates to spiritual beings, does not form a set of didactic teachings that encapsulate all of what spiritual beings are or how they relate to people. There is no systematic way that people are instructed about spiritual beings as in systematic Christian theology. Teachings about spiritual things are best communicated by story. Sallie McFague makes this same point about the importance of story or parable for teaching theology:

The kind of new meaning that the form of the parable suggests militates against merely mental connections, insisting that the “meaning” is not new unless it is existential meaning, meaning for actual individuals in their concrete historical and social circumstances Such meaning will necessarily be somewhat hidden and ambiguous, for human meaning, unlike systematic meaning, remains dense with mystery.623

For the Cree and other Indigenous people, spirituality was not something that was located out in some heaven or some other unearthly place. The spiritual was all around and through,624 meaning that everything was living, or was related to life, and was spiritual or capable of being used for the spiritual.

620 Preston, 116. 621 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree, 46. 622 Ibid. 623 McFague, “Parable, Metaphor, and Theology,” 638. 624 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree, 44–47.

167 For example, Catholic priest Roger Vandersteene, to communicate the Trinity to the Cree near my mother’s birthplace, found that the Cree people of northern Alberta have three main characters in narratives that serve as sources of spiritual power: Kitchi Mantou, the thunderbird, and the bear.625 Vandersteene thought that the Kitchi Mantou would be the Father; the thunderbird, a spiritual messenger in Cree traditional religion, would correspond with the Holy Spirit; and the bear, because he was sacrificing himself for the people, as mentioned earlier in the chapter, would correspond with the Son. Vandersteene’s conception never received popular support among the Cree and could be labelled as a colonial attempt to dominate Indigenous belief by the Catholic Church,626 but for this thesis his ideas serve to outline some broad categories of types of spiritual beings or characters in stories—namely, the Creator, mythical beings, and people.

Indigenous people do not engage only in a description of God from below. Their understanding of the Creator does not come only from their observation of creation, although this is part of their understanding of Kichi-manitow. As already mentioned, this translates into English as ‘Great Mystery,’ which is a suitable description of Indigenous conceptions of deity. The stories and narratives of the Cree always attempt to leave mystery as part of the story. This idea is connected to earlier comments about an unwillingness to spell out explicitly what exactly is meant by all aspects of the story. This could be construed as a move to safeguard the power of those who are ‘in the know,’ but in an Indigenous context, it is more likely an acknowledgment that the ‘Great Mystery’ is beyond what can be known. An Indigenous story about the sacred beings is meant to cultivate an open humble receptivity, for part of the understanding of Creator also comes from visions and the experiencing of powerful events that defy human explanation, which could be called a kind of Indigenous special revelation.

In this case, “special revelation” is not being used to equate Indigenous vision and experience of powerful spiritual forces with Christian theology’s “special revelation,” but visions and spiritual experiences do not fit comfortably within the category of general revelation, because these visions are not revealed to all people always. Neither do they fall into the category of moral consciousness. Some would make a case that Indigenous vision and spiritual experience as captured in Indigenous narratives would fit into a general religiosity of all people. “Religiosity,” might be acceptable, except that to deny that Indigenous people had “hierophanies” of a supreme

625 Ibid., 46. 626 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 8–11.

168 being would, as Eliade charged of some in the West, be guilty of having a simplistic view of Indigenous understanding of spiritual things.627 Steve Charleston’s comments about a kind of Indigenous Old Testament are helpful here if these visions and spiritual experiences are understood as a kind of experience that prepares Indigenous people to receive a more complete revelation. In this way, the gospel story can be received in an Indigenous setting as answering some of the mystery that is open in Indigenous narrative, as Indigenous understanding of the ‘Great Mystery’ continues to evolve in its expression.

Creator has become a dominant way of understanding Kichi-manitow, and it is the Creator that has made a beautiful creation that is good and provides for Indigenous people. The Creator is the one who witnessed the signing of the treaty between the Europeans and the First Nations of Canada.628 The Creator is the one who gives the great law of the Iroquois, and the first covenant or treaty of the Anishinabe and Cree, both of which were about living in a good way upon the land. The narratives or story make this clear, yet do not attempt to offer for all that happens without remainder. At the same time, Indigenous people understand that there is one who is the Supreme Being, who is the Creator.

The Cree, at least, were monotheistic; however, they and other Indigenous people groups also acknowledged other spiritual beings that were involved in creative activity. These beings take various forms. In the lore of the Plains Cree of Canada, the wind is personified and figures in the making of the land of the Cree.629 Among the Iroquois and Cherokee, there was the story spoken of earlier where the animals constructed North America on the back of turtle, and the two children of the woman shaped the topography of the new land.630 However, in these stories the emphasis is not upon revering these beings as some form of deity; rather, they are used to teach people about the connectedness of all things and the goodness of the Creator in supplying for people. To understand that the Creator placed us here on this part of the earth, which means that the world and life are sacred and for this it is only natural to be thankful.631

627 Mircea Eliade, Patterns in (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1958), 7. 628 Miller, “Compact, Contract, Covenant,” 83. 629 Cuthand, Askiwina: A Cree World. 630 King, The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. 631 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 56. Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker suggest that thanksgiving is part of Indigenous ceremony rather than worship. Ceremony fits better because Indian people see themselves as participating in the ongoing creative work in concert with the spirits.

169 These other beings are the second kind of being seen in Vandersteene’s attempted Trinity of Indigenous sources of power. The thunderbird is a mythical character understood as a messenger of visions. The other character in Vandersteene’s story is the bear, who is personified and reaches mythical proportions. Spirit beings, or atayohkonak,632 often appear as animals to Indigenous people in visions associated with ceremonies. In the two stories about the bear recounted earlier, the visions revealed beneficial ways of using the bear for the health of the people. The bears sacrificed themselves for the people. Therefore, Vandersteene thought that the story of the bear sacrificing himself would serve to describe what Christ did in his vicarious suffering. However, not all Indigenous scholars agree on the vicarious suffering application because of its appearance that Christ’s death satisfies an offended deity,633 but we do see in Indigenous story or narrative an Indigenous ethic that promotes the use of personal freedom for the sake of the community. There are other stories and ceremonies that build on the idea that one lives their life or themselves for the good of their family. Thus, even in the hunt, when animals are killed, hunt spirituality seeks only to take enough to live and still respect the animal who gives itself to the hunter. Hunting in this way shows respect for the Creator of creation or land.

Another character in Indigenous story is commonly referred to in English as a trickster, but Neal McLeod suggests that, for the Cree at least, “older brother” would be a better name. This character is called by various names, but among the Cree he is known as wisahkecahk. He is always getting caught in his plans, revealing how people are getting caught in their traps when they are arrogant. He is like a first human in that the character of trickster crosses all the boundaries of beings. Wisahkecahk can change form into an animal, which reveals or teaches that there is a “fluid line between humans and animals.”634 He crosses the boundaries of mortal and spirit, heaven and earth, and good and bad, never falling completely into any category; the trickster celebrates as he stumbles through life.635 Again there are a variety of ways to understand what a person should learn from the antics of wisahkecank, but all of these possible lessons fit under the rubric of seeing how all of life is connected and how boundaries, as important as they are, do not always work as ways of understanding life. Again, Roger Vandersteene comments

632 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 26. 633 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 64. 634 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 14–15. 635 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 125.

170 that the Cree understood life as containing good and bad, but all of it together was their life,636 and the stories help to understand how life is lived in a good or beautiful way.

These stories and others are part of an Indigenous narrative approach to instruction. The stories that contained these characters were aimed at teaching the proper attitude one needed to have towards spiritual beings. These stories were not static but dynamic, in order to embrace new realities that Indigenous people were encountering. For example, as Christianity became increasingly known as the religion of the white man, stories were told to make sure that Indigenous people did not take part in Christianity. As one story from 1925 relates, “I say this only to him who is called Indian (Cree): thou shalt not worship in Christian wise!”637

It is important at this point to make plain that I am not advocating the inclusion of Indigenous myths and legends to supplant the gospel story. The premise of this work is that the gospel story or canon of scripture can function as a story large enough to include Indigenous people and their stories and to be included as Indigenous story. The rationale for this is not to make a classic liberal move and suggest that the traditional canon of scripture is of no value for Indigenous theology. To suggest that the path toward a robust Indigenous theology would require rejection of the Christian religion and a return to traditional would be an overly romantic view of what existed here by way of spirituality and theology before the coming of the Europeans. This work envisions the possibility of Indigenous Christian spirituality and theology built upon a foundation of communal identity. An Indigenous approach to narrative could fall within orthodoxy from an evangelical perspective, and that perspective could help inform theology in general in its ongoing quest for an integrated description of identity.

Relationship to Self

The focus of this thesis is upon the communal identity of Indigenous people, but also upon the relationship Indigenous people have to their self-identity as individuals. It is an individual identity that is aware of all the other relationships and the harmony that exists. As outlined in chapter one, the residential school policy of re-socialization was aimed at “obliterating” the Indigenous individual’s connection with land, family, and spirituality.638 “Re-socialization” ended up destroying or severely maiming Indigenous people’s relationship with themselves on

636 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree. 637 Bloomfield, Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree, 6. 638 “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal People: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” 335.

171 an individual level. Psychologist Dan Allender states that one of the core effects of abuse on a person is that they develop contempt for self and others.639 The attack of all the significant relationships of Indigenous identity often resulted in self-contempt leading to destructive behaviour.

The residential school was not the only policy aimed at destroying the Indigenous relationship with land. The forced relocation of the Sayisi Dene, for example, resulted in the same kind of breakdown in other relationships. Relationship with family, relationship with spirituality, and finally relationship with self all suffered a breakdown as a result of colonial efforts to reassign Indigenous people’s sense of relatedness. Dene Ila Bussidor writes, “Because of the racism we faced every day, I was ashamed to be Dene. I wished I belonged to another race of people.”640

The attack on Indigenous communal identity resulted in a damaged relationship to self. In turn, this often resulted in Indigenous people questioning their continuance as a people and possibly as individuals.641 It resulted in self-contempt as well as contempt for other people, which manifested itself in violence toward other Indigenous people. Mohawk author Patricia Monture writes, “it is not just colonial relations that must be undone but all the consequences (addiction, loss of language, loss of parenting skills, loss of self-respect, abuse and violence and so on). Colonialism is no longer . . . vertical relationships . . . it is horizontal and entangled relationships.642” The solution to all of this is to begin to return to Indigenous communal narrative identity.

To summarize, the Indigenous communal identity could be construed as having four categories of relationship. These categories of relationship form an extended identity broader than the autonomous individual. Whereas Descartes and the ensuing Enlightenment were attempting to find the completely objective place from which to have sure knowledge of self, and whereas Hume was attempting to gather empirical data, Indigenous people were and are attempting to understand and hold in harmony the relationships that make up their life. Whereas Descartes

639 Dan B. Allender, The Wounded Heart (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2008), 143. 640 Bussidor and Bilgen-Reinart, 4. 641 Rupert Ross, Dancing with a Ghost: Exploring Indian Reality (Markham, ON: Octopus Books: 1992), 116–33. 642 Patricia Monture, Journeying forward: Dreaming First Nations’ Independence (Halifax, N.S.: Fernwood, 1999), 11.

172 stated, “I think therefore I am,” Indigenous identity was and is grounded in the relationships of their lives. These relationships consist of individual to group, and group to group, and make up what I have referred to as people-to-people or interpersonal relationships. As well, the relationship between people and creation is a core relationship for Indigenous people. Further, the Indigenous conception of the term ‘land’ could be construed as not just referring to the ownership of some property but rather the relationship to all of creation. Also, the relationship between people and spiritual beings forms a relationship category that receives attention from Indigenous people. Finally, there is the relationship that Indigenous people have with themselves.

These relationships are held together by a performative narrative approach; relationship and identity are possible and are maintained through story. Indigenous narrative that includes treaty and tradition must be told alongside the gospel story or canon of scripture. As this occurs, there is the possibility of a shared identity developing in North America that respects the Indigenous people of the land as well as the newcomers to the land, which will lead to an expression of the Church that regards the land of Canada as sacred.

In chapter two, I laid the groundwork for explaining that the focus of Indigenous identity is upon the group, in contrast to the modern Western preoccupation with the autonomous individual. In the last section, I examined several examples of story that help maintain group identity. It needs to be said that for Indigenous people, there is always a voluntary aspect to this communal identity. People are free to choose, and this ability is what makes humans different from animals.643 Story forms the basis upon which relationships between the individual and the group, between groups, and between nations are maintained.

The identity of First Nations people does not end with the relationship between people and people; there is also the relationship between the land and people. However, the relationship between land and people goes beyond merely the ownership of land; rather, identity is tied up with the relatedness to land or creation. Finally, there is a concern for the relationship between people and the sacred. It would be a mistake to conclude that this last category is primarily concerned with theology, although it would appear so at times. The relationship between people and deity has been the primary concern with modern Western theology, or at least ‘popular’

643 Personal interview with Elder Ed Wood, May 24 2007. Elder Ed Wood pointed out the difference between humans and animals: Dogs do what dogs do; people have a choice.

173 modern evangelical conversion theology. The conversion of the individual with an emphasis upon personal salvation has, at times, appeared to preoccupy the evangelical mind to the point of precluding the other categories of relationships identified in this work. As a result, it is necessary for an alternative starting-place from which to develop an Indigenous theology. This starting- place begins with a return to the gospel story interpreted by Indigenous people in keeping with the understanding of how story works in an Indigenous context, a context that, embracing the gospel story, will speak in terms of maintaining all the relationships vital to being First Nations people. With the ongoing development of an Indigenous theology, perhaps, as Mark McDonald expresses, the gospel will come to North America not as a caricature of the West, but as a full- orbed theology that will offer its voice to aid in the ongoing transformation of Christ’s church.

The correlation of Indigenous storied identity and the gospel story raises at least three questions. First, how are these two traditions to come together in a way that avoids two historical approaches that are undesirable for my purposes? Second, how exactly does one begin and continue to bring together Indigenous stories and the gospel story? Third, once Indigenous people are written into the gospel story, what are the ramifications for moving ahead for both Indigenous people and the Church?

As to the first question of how to bring together the gospel story and Indigenous storied identity, this is a difficult issue to resolve, for, as chapter one pointed out, being native and Christian is fraught with difficulties. To use a comparison mentioned by Paul Ricoeur in his discussion on translation, when moving from one text that was originally in one language or culture, to another language or culture, one wrestles with trying to be faithful while at the same time wrestling with a sense of betraying something original.644 It is this sense of faithfulness versus betrayal that has motivated in the past two moves that this thesis is attempting to avoid: either abolishing Indigenous story, or replacing the canon of scripture or gospel story with a canon of Indigenous stories. The challenge is to hold both together without doing damage to either. The solution comes out of Indigenous storied identity, namely that these must be held together in Indigenous communities where they can be woven together into the fabric of relationships that Indigenous people are striving to maintain.

Before turning to some thoughts on how one tells these two stories together, it would be useful to recall the benefits and challenges of holding these two storied traditions together. Indigenous

644 Paul Ricœur, On Translation, Thinking in Action, 18.

174 story brings Christianity a renewed appreciation for humanity’s connection to a sacred creation—sacred because it is, as Gunton points out about Irenaeus’ theology,645 God working in and through creation; therefore, Indigenous people would confirm creation is all sacred. Indigenous story tells of the relationship to this land of North America. They do not want to discount the sacredness of any other space of the world but rather begin with the understanding that Indigenous people are related to this North American land. Indigenous story or Indigenous storied identity is about discovering our creation story that tells us how we are related to the earth and everybody and everything. This idea is in keeping with Christian teaching and Indigenous storied identity: the gospel story begins not with the sinfulness of humanity but with the beauty and goodness of creation, which invites a responsibility and thankfulness on the part of traditional Indigenous spirituality, which can be affirmed by Christian theology.

Indigenous story and Christian story both affirm that humanity is related to the earth. Indigenous story points out that in some sense the earth is our mother, for she is the one that provides for us, or from whom we receive nourishment. On one occasion, I was reflecting upon Luke’s genealogy of Jesus646 and began thinking about Mary being the mother of Jesus. In turn, this raised the question in my mind, who was Adam’s mother? My Indigenous reading of the Genesis creation accounts produced an answer immediately; the mother of Adam was the earth. Irenaeus would affirm this point, that as Adam came out of the virgin soil, so Christ was brought forth from the Virgin Mary.647 What is of significance for this thesis and how narrative works is the emotive response this produced in me. I felt a connection to the earth, deep respect, like the respect I have for my mother. In turn, this produced an understanding of why traditional Indigenous elders point out that we ought to respect the earth, for it is part of our family. I respect my mother, but I do not worship her; I can respect the earth without worshiping the earth.

Indigenous storied identity helps to inform healthy respect for the earth but also the rest of creation, including non-human creatures. As pointed out earlier, traditional Indigenous story points out that animals are capable of teaching human beings if human beings are mindful and observe. Is this reading possible within Christian scriptures? The answer is yes: Christian scriptures and theology affirm that within Creation it is possible to discern certain things about

645 Colin E. Gunton, “One Mediator ... the Man Jesus Christ: Reconciliation, Mediation and Life in Community,” Pro Ecclesia 11, no. 2 (2002): 147. 646 Luke 3:23–38. 647 Saint Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyona, On the Apostolic Preaching, ed. John Behr, trans. John Behr, vol. 17, Polular Patristics Series (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimer's Seminary Press, 1997), [32] 61.

175 God’s eternal character. This general revelation is also a gift of the Creator, and Paul’s reasoning in Romans is that because of this witness, no one has an excuse for ignoring the gospel. So, then, it is possible to uphold both Indigenous narrative, which affirms that animals are at times our teachers, and the biblical understanding, that creation ought to make one mindful of the Creator. This reading is not foreign to Christianity, but evangelical mission to Indigenous people did not often raise it. A renewed Indigenous storied identity could reaffirm this connection to the earth, which ought to produce respect for the earth as the place where God is working.

However, some will respond that if it is possible within the Christian scriptures to understand that we are intimately connected to the earth, why is it still necessary to cling to Indigenous story and Indigenous storied identity? The answer to this is the particularity of Indigenous story: because it is related to this specific land of North America, it forms a living memory and relationship to this particular place. To deny Indigenous storied identity would be to deny Indigenous identity and to continue the misguided policy of the colonial past. Without this connection to a specific place, people remain disconnected from the earth, downplaying their own embodied existence in North America. Thus, one of the contributions of the “Indigenous story” is that it presses us to see what is integral to the biblical narrative but that has been clouded or pushed into the shadows by centuries of reading the biblical narrative from within a Western context.

The importance of particularity is one reason for the narrative turn in theology. The particularity of Jesus Christ come in the flesh, mediated by the gospel story amid the Christian community, is fundamental to Christian faith. For it is a fully human Jesus, who is also fully divine, who can mediate or bring together creation and Creator. However, this bringing together of creation and Creator in the incarnation does not do away with all prior existing relationships between God and creation; rather, it fulfills what was intended. So, then, the Jewishness or humanness of Jesus is an affirmation of all ethnē, for it reveals that God can redeem people—all people. As well, Jesus coming in the flesh in a particular place reveals the sacredness of place that is not limited to ancient Israel; according to Jesus’ own words in John 4, the possibility of encountering God is not limited to the mountain in Samaria, or the mountain in Jerusalem, but every place. In the past, this has led to the conclusion that place is not important, since God is spirit. An Indigenous perspective or reading would conclude that because God is spirit, every place has potential to be a place where God meets people; therefore, it is all sacred. The incarnation, then, from an

176 Indigenous perspective, fulfills my Cree storied identity and does not replace it with a non- racial648 Christian identity.

Also, the Cree and other Indigenous people in Canada retain the idea that we were put here by God and were in a covenantal relationship with God, and as such we are responsible for ensuring harmony in our land between all things. Creation was not seen as the problem; people were. Thus, Cree covenantal narrated identity is not something that needs to be lost. Maintaining this harmony is not seen as easy, and it requires a life of spirituality. The knowledge that Jesus is the mediator between God and creation, people and creation, and people and people is a necessary contribution of Christian theology. So why would Cree people need to give up this idea of harmony to be Cree Christians? We are related to the earth; our identity is intimately related to this part of the earth. We need a Christian identity that does not discount or overlook the necessity of being in good relationship with this land. My fear is that if one gives up Indigenous storied identity for a kind of Christian identity that affirms the relationship with humans to creation but overlooks the connection to a specific place on the earth, one is still capable of seeing land, animals, and other human beings in a utilitarian manner. If Christian identity is not embodied in a specific place upon the earth, then it might have succeeded in shedding the desire for an ethereal existence located in the translucent world of ideals, but because it is not connected to a specific place, it remains floating above the earth, still disconnected from it.

So how does one bring these two traditions together? The first step is to tell both stories together to show their similarities. Again, an earlier example helps point this out. Steve Charleston points out that the gospel story affirmed several points of his Indigenous upbringing listed below:

God is one. God created all that exists. God is a God of human history. God is a God of all time and space. God is a God of all people. God establishes covenant relationships with the People. God gave the People promised land. The people are stewards of the land for God. God gave the people a law or way of life. The people worship God in sacred spaces. God raises up prophets and charismatic leaders. God speaks through dreams and visions. The

648J. Kameron Carter talks about the feeling that slaves in America had of being disconnected to place. Part of the problem related to race, he concludes, was not seeing Jesus as having race. Because Jesus is seen as non- Jewish, in essence he is not seen as human, and as such colonial Europe is able to claim Jesus and Christianity as being theirs: white and colonial. He concludes that what is needed is to see Jesus as Jewish and to see one’s identity as being in part related to this Jewishness. He claims that evidence of this connection is found in slave accounts of seeing themselves connected to the earth by being connected to Jerusalem through the Jewish Jesus. The difficultiy with this position is that it still does not establish Americans with North America, except through colonial history, and this leaves out Indigenous connection to the land. See J. Kameron Carter, Race: A Theological Account (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2008).

177 people maintain a seasonal cycle of worship. The people believe God will deliver them from their suffering. God can become incarnate on earth.649

Neal McLeod, another Indigenous scholar, points out that his Grandfather wove the hunting stories of the Dene and Cree together with the gospel.650 Both affirm that to preserve the living memory of the relationship between the Creator and Indigenous people would be beneficial. Hearing the gospel story does not preclude this living memory; it builds upon it.

The first step is to tell the two kinds of stories alongside each other to show their similarities, but this again opens the possibility for error. It is possible to lose connection to the gospel story or to lose connection with Indigenous storied identity. However, the gospel story can become part of Indigenous storied identity so that the two stories are told together, meaning that the gospel story must become part of the community.

The gospel being owned by the Indigenous community means it becomes part of the storyteller’s bundle of stories, used to teach one how to live in a good way upon the earth. However, as has been presented before, this move for community involves everyone, including those who would not consider themselves Christian. Of course, this has already been the case, as Tanner points out that Christian identity is shaped within a context that is shared with non-Christian people.651 As well, Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s idea of Christian community was lived within a “religion-less” context.652 The believer was to live not in the confines of Christendom but within the larger society. Indigenous storytellers, then, in an Indigenous context, must tell the gospel story, which might mean several things.

First, it might mean that the community always acknowledges a Christian presence. Neal McLeod acknowledges that Christianity has become part of the story of the Cree in Saskatchewan, and its presence must be acknowledged within Indigenous collective memory.653 When I was doing pastoral ministry, on the occasions when I attended an all-night wake for someone who had died, at the appropriate time I was asked to sing some Christian songs, because it comforted the people there, even if they were not Christian. I was asked to pray, even

649 Charleston, “The Old Testament of Native America,” 76. 650 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 63. 651 Tanner, 108. 652 652 Dietrich Bonhoeffer and John W. Doberstein, Life Together (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993), 17–18.

653 McLeod, 100.

178 though the was not a Christian funeral, and my were not seen as bad, just different. The point is that within Indigenous storied identity, because it is dynamic, the story is always open-ended. This open-endedness means there is a possibility for Indigenous Christian identity, but it also means it is never finished or the final word, at least until the end.

Some may object that if the gospel story becomes one story among many stories told by Indigenous people to maintain their collective identity, it will result in a loss of some aspect of the gospel story. George Lindbeck raises this concern when talking about the untranslatability of the gospel into another language game; he is concerned that “perversion and distortion may occur.”654 In part, these objections can be addressed by pointing out that the gospel story, if it remains story, continues to do what stories do: They are taken in by the audience and in turn take in the audience, because in an Indigenous storied context, the story remains in control. The story in control is what Lindbeck identifies as the goal: the biblical word takes in the whole world. At the same time, it is important that the Indigenous story be identifiable as part of Lindbeck’s world. Even though Indigenous people use the gospel story in a creative way, if it is told as story, it remains dynamic, because it remains open-ended—yet, it retains integrity, maintained by the community as Christian Indigenous story.

Second, the story of the Church’s involvement in the treaty-making process, and the sad story of the residential school involvement, as well as the eventual resolution or working through of the pain and abuse by Indigenous Christians and non-Christians, provides a narrated identity that is not a denial of the history of the relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. Narrated identity provides the community with a legacy that shows how together the gospel could become something positive. Telling its negative stories requires humility on the part of the Church, to allow the negative to exist with the gospel, but also shows its ability to be part of Indigenous storied identity. To deny or forget the negative accounts of the past would open one up to the possibility of their being repeated. In this way, Indigenous storied identity locates the Christian story not with a triumphalist approach that denies its shortcomings, but with an embodied Christian identity that is moving toward a desired future by working through the difficult issues that come along with the encounter between Indigenous identity and Christianity.

Therefore, part of the process of bringing together Indigenous storied identity and Christianity lies in not only Indigenous story-tellers and Indigenous Christian communities telling their

654 Lindbeck and Buckley, 231–32.

179 stories, but also in the whole North American church owning their identity as being connected to this place: either making this their home, or understanding that they are guests in this land. The biblical narrative must take root and come to expression differently in different cultures. The word became flesh and dwelt among us: this looks different in Calgary than in Galilee or any other place. So, it is not necessary that one’s context be obliterated by the biblical narrative, for the gospel story is taken in, and in turn takes a context in. Bringing together Indigenous and Christian story is moving toward a harmony that does not deny diversity but embraces a shared narrative that is working through the difficulties of the past—a faithful and desired end of the gospel story.

However, does this Indigenous conception of story fit within the halls of the Western academic institution, or is it destined to occupy the realms of exotic raw data for the mills of the theological institution? A critical appropriation of Paul Ricoeur’s thought will reveal the suitability of the Indigenous ethic of story to help inform Christian identity, both in its formation and in its ongoing development.

In conclusion, an examination of the way that story works in an Indigenous context further shows the need for a return to Indigenous story for the development and maintenance of Indigenous identity. Because relationship and identity are always located in the context of the larger community or in a group identity, theology must flow out of or take seriously the proposal that the gospel as Indigenous story could function as a place from which Indigenous theology could develop.

CHAPTER 4

An Indigenous Conversation with Ricoeur

This chapter provides a hermeneutical undergirding through an examination of Paul Ricoeur’s description of how story works. Ricoeur legitimates Indigenous people’s intuitive understanding of story, further demonstrating the significance of Indigenous identity for theology. This has implications not just for Indigenous people, whose own theological reflection of Indigenous Christian identity is advanced; since Christian theological reflection is always set within the Church, the entire Church also has the potential to benefit from the presence of Indigenous communal Christian identity.

It is impossible to deal thoroughly with all of Ricoeur’s work in a single chapter. My focus will, therefore, fall first upon his discussion of narrative, including identity, metaphor, and mimesis, drawing a comparison of Indigenous concepts of treaty as shared narrative. Second, I will examine Ricoeur’s work on metaphor as he reveals the innovation that takes place as a community seeks to account for change. Third, I will explore how his discussion of mimesis affirms the need for the community to tell and retell a story.

The rationale for appropriating Ricoeur is multi-faceted. First, Ricoeur’s description of how metaphor—and, by extension, story—demonstrates that our discussion of the Indigenous ethic of story fits within the broader realm of scholarly understanding. In turn, we will note the suitability of Indigenous communal identity, with its understanding of land and story, as an appropriate frame for the development of Indigenous Christian identity, and for theology in Western contexts seeking to move away from an overly individualistic understanding of identity. As Ricoeur warns us, the fact of the Christian eschaton should make us mindful of our constant need to re- envision our conclusions.655 A dialogue between Indigenous conceptions of communal identity and Western theology would result in such a re-visioning. Indigenous conceptions of identity, however, must be translated for academic theology; Ricoeur’s philosophical understanding of narrative and identity, juxtaposed with Indigenous narrative identity, aid in this process.

655 Paul Ricœur, Political and Social Essays (Athens: Ohio University Press, 1975), 7. 180 181 Second, as stated in chapter one, Ricoeur’s notion of innovation656 in meaning through a narrative approach provides a philosophical basis and justification for a narrative approach to communal identity. Narrative communal identity is particularly important for Indigenous people who are attempting to understand their own identity in light of a changing political and religious landscape in North America. A landscape that formerly opposed Indigenous identity now seems willing to discuss the possibility of maintaining and affirming Indigenous identity, along with the attendant ramifications in the political realm and the Church. In coming to this new understanding, Ricoeur’s thought is helpful, as he makes room for the use of narrative imagination. As Navajo scholar Brian Yazzie Burkhart points out, Indigenous people pay particular attention to how all of life, including imagination, plays into their understanding of the world, so that one can live in a good way.657

Third, Ricoeur's philosophical approach accounts for the issue of subjectivity and emotion to a higher degree than some other approaches to narrative. No one focuses solely upon the story itself. The reader/teller always brings her categories or ways of reading to any text, including the biblical text. Imagination, therefore, is part of this process that leads to the creation of . All of this typically falls under the rubric of phenomenology, which by definition is subjective—but the subjectivity is not unlimited. Ricoeur does not lapse into relativism. In his work on metaphor and narrative, Ricoeur points out that there is always a referent behind or associated with the story. Narrative is the vehicle that moves one from something known to something new and unknown. In each text, there is a possibility of a surplus of meaning, which fits with the Indigenous understanding of an open-ended story.658 Dan Stiver points out that Ricoeur does not try to reduce or eliminate the surplus of meaning that is available for the community.659 Instead, Ricoeur tries to preserve this surplus by affirming the innovation of metaphor and narrative.

The open-ended nature of Indigenous stories, or the surplus of meaning, acknowledges that although there is innovation in the application of the story to changing contexts, the story remains part of shared Indigenous memory. For the university, this innovation lies in creating

656 Innovation is a term used by Mabiala Kenzo in his work on Ricoeur. See Mabiala Justin-Robert Kenzo, Dialectic of Sedimentation and Innovation: Paul Ricœur on Creativity After the Subject, American University Studies, Series VII: Theology and Religion, (New York: Peter Lang, 2009). 657 Burkhart, “What Coyote and Thales Can Teach Us,” 22–24. 658 McLeod, Cree Narrative Memory, 16. 659 Dan R. Stiver, Theology After Ricoeur: New Directions in Hermeneutical Theology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 1.

182 new knowledge. In an Indigenous context, however, it lies in creating new understanding. The subjectivity of each interpreter, as well as the expectation of the eschaton, ought to make us hold our conclusions as provisional. Ricoeur affirms truth; he is not a skeptic. However, he points out that our perspective is limited and contextual. There are a variety of ways in which the truth can be stated and applied. These vary according to the circumstance, as well as the language of the community.

Fourth, Ricoeur's hermeneutic can be used to understand how a variety of genres function in various contexts, including the different genres within the Christian scriptures. Ricoeur's essay “Toward a Hermeneutic of the Idea of Revelation” is an example of how a philosophical approach to revelation that is intentionally non-theistic still does justice to the genre of revelation and human reason.660 The biblical genres as revelation are tied to the founding events of God working in history and include prophetic, narrative, prescriptive, wisdom, and hymnody. These genres are irreducible to theological proposition, but they are first and foremost the language of the community being used to define its identity. As such, the genres themselves are part of the revelation, which is part of the larger story of Yahweh working in history. Ricoeur’s essay serves as a support to consider not only the genre of scripture but also the development of Christian Indigenous identity, and how these genres could be understood in an Indigenous context. The gospel story understood as Indigenous narrative does not replace the biblical genre, but it does expand the understanding of biblical narrative for the whole Church.

With this description of how the gospel story is working innovatively and yet is remaining true to the genre of revelation, Ricoeur affirms that for the gospel story to be productive in the community, the community must encounter the text. African scholar Mabiala Kenzo observes that reading or encountering the text is an act of both judgment and productive imagination.661 Ricoeur, on this point, believes that the genre of scripture as revelation, interpreted or encountered according to the said genre, forms the identity of the Christian community. For Ricoeur, scripture as revelation is a matter of conviction; however; he still gives proper place to reason and revelation, showing his concern for conviction. The presence of conviction runs contrary to McClendon’s observation that Ricoeur 662 has no room for Christian conviction in his approach to metaphor. Although Ricoeur is not aiming to give a theistic philosophical rationale

660 Ricoeur, “Toward a Hermeneutic of the Idea of Revelation,” 14–19. 661 Kenzo, Dialectic of Sedimentation and Innovation, 138–39. 662 McClendon and Smith, Convictions: Defusing Religious Relativism: 45.

183 for how narrative or metaphor works in the community, his approach does point out the validity of revelation as a category for religious discourse. As a first-order discourse, the canon of scripture works in a particular way in a community. I am proposing that this process, if carried out by the Indigenous community, will accentuate the transformational potential for the communal identity of the gospel appropriated as story. Even as one of many Indigenous stories, the gospel story or canon of scripture has an impact on Indigenous identity; the gospel story does what story does. How the gospel works as story will be illuminating, not only for a First Nations community but for the broader Christian community in Canada and North America as well.

When it is applied to the biblical story, Ricoeur’s conception of how identity and meaning work within the context of the story creates room for an Indigenous theology that takes seriously Native American narrated identity in the development of Christian theology. In particular, by pointing out the possibility of a ‘surplus of meaning' in a metaphor, or of a text or context, Ricoeur makes room for others to find meaning within a given text. According to Ricoeur, when the text is moved away from its original context, a variety of meanings are possible.663 This variety does not mean that the gospel as story can mean anything and everything, but rather the distance of the reader from the original event generates something ‘creative and faithful.’664 This thesis is not trying to claim that Ricoeur had Native American identity or Indigenous theology in mind in his writing. Even so, it is possible to see how Ricoeur, in his understanding of hermeneutics,665 creates room for a people who are pushing for recognition of the validity of their understanding of identity and the world within a post-colonial world of the biblical text. To reiterate, although Ricoeur is not writing with Indigenous people in mind, his conception of the role of state, , and their hindrance to worldwide unity reveals that Ricoeur is attempting to anticipate something beyond the nation-state—something Indigenous people also strive toward—in which a communal narrative serves to form a communal identity.666 This idea helps us to understand the concept of the historic treaty process in Canada as story, and a story that retains a surplus of meaning moving forward.

Finally, Ricoeur’s use of mimesis, with its fusion of horizons, will prove useful to further the project of dialogue between Indigenous identity and Christian theology. First Nations people of North America who have encountered the gospel story are attempting to define a Native

663 Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred, 38. 664 Ibid. 665 Paul Ricœur, “Rhetoric - Poetics - Hermeneutics,” 68. 666 Ricoeur, Political and Social Essays, 134–59.

184 ‘Christian’ Spirituality, one that must continue to develop by use of narrative towards new knowledge and understanding as First Nations people continue to grapple with changes brought about by the influx of new people to North America. Part of the process of coming to terms with the colonial past will be to describe the process of how Euro-Canadian Christian identity, which is owed to a specific cultural context encountering the “biblical documents,”667 can dialogue with First Nations groups that are encountering the same biblical documents but from an Indigenous perspective. In particular, Ricoeur’s discussion about identity as embodied and narrative serves as a focal point for an encounter between Indigenous communal identity that includes land and Western theological conceptions of identity that are pushing toward holism. Indigenous people bring the concept of treaty as shared narrative as an exemplar of a place where both Indigenous identity and Christian identity can dialogue to pursue better relatedness.

Again, it is necessary to reiterate that I am not attempting to present another contextual liberation theology. Although this thesis and particularly the point above is advocating for room in which Indigenous narrative identity could dialogue with Western theology, which in some sense is advocating for increased freedom, the emphasis throughout this thesis is more upon recognition rather than upon primarily political . Although I have used some negative examples from the past in which political forces have been used to discriminate against Indigenous identity, the intention is not to overthrow or abandon Christian theology or to overthrow any political regime, but instead to move toward a more harmonious dialogue that enhances theological reflection.

Other authors who have already been mentioned, such as George Tinker, have talked about the fight for co-existence or recognition as being part of liberation theology, and I am not attempting to cast any misgivings upon his work. Even Tinker, however, believes that the dialogue between classic liberation theology and what is advocated by Indigenous North Americans reveals some differences between the two. For example, he considers Indigenous North America as part of the fourth world, a term used by George Manuel and Michael Posluns in 1974 to differentiate the Indigenous situation in Canada and North America more broadly from the “Third World’s” struggle for .668 They, like Tinker, believed that Indigenous people were attempting to co-exist with the West, not to imitate the West. In Manuel’s words, the third world reacts to Western politics and is adapting to Western technology, “and uses racial issues to pivot

667 Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred, 39. 668 Manuel and Posluns, The Fourth World: An Indian Reality.

185 its expanding influence between the super-powers, gathering concessions from both sides while struggling to imitate them.”669

In Indigenous North America, we must rely upon building a shared identity that goes beyond co- existence but that does not sacrifice the identity of either group, and that seeks to live in harmony with all things. Ricoeur’s thought is helpful, for it does not aim to deconstruct but to live according to a narrated identity based upon a shared story that acknowledges cultural distance as part of the story.670 The mingling of horizons should not be limited to only the text and each specific community, but may be extended through an appropriation of Indigenous understanding of identity, story, and land to a sharing of horizons between multiple communities living according to the shared story in shared space. These concepts can be found in the Indigenous treaty understood as a shared narrative, which displays an innovative pluralism. McClendon, Grenz, and evangelical theology could embrace this innovative pluralism without giving up convictions. Ricoeur's thoughts on mimesis, metaphor, and identity help to explain how narrative moves us toward a shared identity.

Ricoeur on Identity, Metaphor, and Mimesis

As MacIntyre points out, Indigenous people understand the complexities of identity and relationship.671 Moreover, chapter three showed that this understanding of relationship and identity includes an understanding of how story ‘works,’ or how it is interpreted. This understanding of story has implications for biblical stories as well. For example, while teaching a class titled “The Resurrection of Story” at the Vancouver School of Theology on the campus of the University of British Columbia during the Native Consortium, I observed this innate understanding of story among the class participants. Most of the participants in the class were of First Nations heritage, and most of them had not done any extensive study of theology or hermeneutics. In the story of Jesus sending out the seventy and then, on their return, reporting of their casting out demons, Jesus responds, “I saw Satan fall from heaven.”672 I began my experiment by asking what Jesus was talking about when he said that he saw Satan fall from heaven, and then waited for the students’ responses.

669 Ibid., 6–7. 670 Ricœur, "Rhetoric - Poetics - Hermeneutics," 68. 671 MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, 198. 672 Luke 10:18

186 Although scholars debate the referent of the phrase, “Truly, I saw Satan fall from heaven,”673 one possibility is to understand that Jesus in Luke’s narrative is using this metaphor to describe the work the seventy had done. However, ‘popular’ evangelical theology would have understood Jesus to be referring to the mythical casting of Satan out of heaven pictured in Isaiah 14. Scholars observe, and I would concur, that the Isaiah passage is referring to the casting down of an earthly king, but it is common to hear evangelicals linking the passage in Luke to some mythical past or future casting out of Satan. This latter reading is dependent upon understanding some story ‘behind’ the text.

First Nations students in my class, unaware of the tradition of interpretation of the evangelical West, offered the former and not the latter interpretation of Luke’s narrative. It was fascinating to me, because I have often used this passage among Euro-North Americans as a teaching tool to illustrate that we tend to read into the texts a particular interpretation and have trouble reading and understanding the gospel story proper. We prefer to read behind the text for some other meaning. Euro-North Americans with some popular biblical and theological knowledge will inevitably choose to link the narrative not according to the story as it reads in Luke but to their tradition of interpretation. They connect Luke’s story to a questionable reading of a passage from Isaiah. By contrast, Indigenous people, having learned the stories of the community, and having taught and been taught with story and narrative, appear to locate the meaning rightfully within the narrative itself. They may not use precise philosophical language, as Ricoeur does, to explain the workings of narrative, but they understand how the story is working in this particular case.

Some might still prefer to understand Jesus’ statement as alluding to Satan falling from heaven as a preferred interpretation or one possible interpretation; however, this does not negate the observation that the understanding of the group will determine or influence how the story is heard by a member or members of a group. The purpose of this example is not to argue for a preferred interpretation of Luke, but to point out that a people who have been shaped by hearing and telling stories perceive the biblical story in particular ways.

Thus, it will be fruitful to compare the Indigenous understanding of how story works with Paul Ricoeur's understanding of the way that metaphor—and, by extension, narrative—functions. The comparison would add validity to an Indigenous understanding of how a communal identity is

673 Darrell L. Bock, Luke 9:51–24:53, ed. Moises Silva, vol. 2, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 1996), 1006 and footnotes.

187 formed and of the role of narrative in that process. Using Ricoeur’s vocabulary to describe how story works in concert with how story works in an Indigenous context will reveal, as MacIntyre suggests, that Indigenous people understand the complexity of identity.674 In the same way, an overlaying of Ricoeur's thought on metaphor and identity would reveal the complex intricacies of Indigenous people’s intuitive understanding of story.

Another benefit of this comparison is to enhance Ricoeur’s work on identity by further developing the concept of how individual identity works in the context of a localized group, and, in particular, Ricoeur's description of how an individual’s hermeneutical approach can be extended to a community of people or people who consider themselves ‘a people.’ This work is not an attempt to undo the legitimate work of a liberal society of freeing the individual. It is necessary to temper the critique of the social group by liberal society by formulating a philosophy and theology of communal identity. This view does not obliterate the individual and at the same time does not lead to a modern isolated individual. Affirming the group identity may lead to an affirmation of personal identity as embodied existence upon the land.

For example, Ricoeur suggests that the affirmation of identity is a necessary step for people groups who have been oppressed by colonialism.675 If a people are oppressed, they must be given space within which to reclaim their lost identity.676 For Indigenous North American peoples, this is liberating. At the same time, the group does not consume the individual. Indigenous communal identity can be affirmed by liberal society. This reclaiming of lost identity also extends to the theological enterprise, for theology must be local as well as global.677 The modern theological enterprise has been concerned with defining a universal theology, but this universal theology is not able to be made local except by those who occupy said local. Is it possible to take the ethics of story observed in an Indigenous context and Ricoeur’s philosophy of hermeneutics and metaphor, and overlay the two? At what point do the observations of metaphor to the individual and metaphor to a group conflict? Or do they? Can the same hermeneutic of metaphor, primarily located within the context of an individual, function as a communal hermeneutic, and if so, how would this function and what would be the advantages and disadvantages of it?

674 MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, 198. 675 Ricœur, Political and Social Essays, 141. 676 Ibid. 677 Tienou, “Indigenous Theologizing.”

188 Before proceeding to an in-depth examination of Ricoeur’s understanding of metaphor, it would be helpful to first make a case for the use of story as an aspect of identity within his writing and thought. This task will not prove difficult, for it is a significant component of his work, and other authors have already discussed it. However, it would serve the purpose of my work to examine how ‘narrated identity’ is lost, according to Ricoeur’s understanding. This direction seems favourable because the task of this work is to show the function of theology to be descriptive and prescriptive. Thus, if the thought around Indigenous identity is advantageous for the ongoing development of a holistic Christian Cree identity, this assumes that there is something inadequate in the former Western model of identity. If Ricoeur offers a critique of the Western philosophical understanding of story and metaphor in the role of identity, this supports the observations that Indigenous identity is narrative and needs to be.

Ricoeur on Identity

To examine Ricoeur’s ideas of narrative identity, I will begin at the end, talking first about identity before moving to discuss metaphor and story. This approach will prove helpful in order to move from a given identity and then to see how it is built or sustained by narrative.

To examine the critique of the loss of the narrated identity, we first turn to Oneself as Another, where Ricoeur examines the possible ways in which identity has been conceived of in Western thought. What is of importance for this thesis is when he points out the possibility of conceiving of identity in two major ways:678 First, identity conceived of as the narrated identity that implies the other, and second, identity or self conceived of as personal identity that is affirmed by self.679 Ricoeur’s philosophical intention in Oneself as Another is to bring these two together by examining them in relation to self.680 Ricoeur then proceeds to trace this task through the stages of identity being posited in the cogito: the splitting of thought from the body with the result that, in Descartes, the narrated identity is lost.681 Descartes believes that he has proven God’s existence, using a form of the ontological argument, and that he has established the existence of the self.682 From these two points, all other knowledge can be ascertained. Self, however, is brought about because the ‘I’ is defined only by what ‘I’ thinks, and thus, even though Descartes

678 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 3. 679 See the introduction by Richard Kearney in Ricœur, On Translation. 680 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 2. 681 Ibid., 7. 682 René Descartes, Elizabeth Sanderson Haldane, and George Robert Thomson Ross, The Philosophical Works of Descartes, Rendered into English, 2 vols. (Cambridge: The University Press, 1911), 1–3.

189 believes he has discovered a soul, he has actually, according to Ricoeur, defined self as a thinking subject and identity has become entirely subjective.683 Descartes’ conception of identity being only founded in a fable about an evil deceiver completely severs the individual identity from the narrated identity because it posits identity within the inner world of the individual.684 Descartes’ identity of the cogito effectively cuts off the individual from all others. A translation of Descartes reads, “The human mind’s reflection on itself . . . consists only in being a thing that thinks.”685 This first truth of Descartes also allows that there is a God and that God and the cogito are sufficient for identity, at least according to Ricoeur’s rendition of Descartes. Having arrived at personal identity via doubting, Nietzsche then proves a better doubter, for he doubts the inner world.686 In Nietzsche, all identity is brought into question.687 Ricoeur is interested in this other self, the narrated self, and in drawing together the personal and narrated self. This narrated self is the one that is posited, not in the inner subjective world; instead it is posited in the person with a body capable of identification in history and the physical world and capable of responsibility.688 However, to make sense of history, the physical world, and self, it is necessary to place all of these within a narrative.

It is essential to point out that the narrative does not create individual identity ex nihilo. If this were the case, Ricoeur would be lapsing back into a fable as the foundation for identity and would fall under the condemnation of Nietzsche and the imaginary identity. Ricoeur points out that identity is based upon the ability of individuals to identify with a character within a story. The qualities of the character are norms and categories established by the community. So, then, the individual is already endowed with understanding or norms for characters within stories that enable them when hearing, seeing, or reading the story to identify with a character. The story is reliant upon the character more than the character is reliant upon the story, and, in Ricoeur’s words, “So identity is not contingent upon the story, but the story is contingent upon the identity of the character.”689 Thus, according to Ricoeur, a narrated identity allows for the possibility to see oneself and then contemplate how to live a good life.

683 Paul Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, trans. Kathleen Blamey (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 8. 684 Ibid. 685 Descartes, Haldane, and Ross, 1–3. 686Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 15. 687 Nietzsche, 16, 814–15. 688 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 11, 27. 689 Ibid., 152.

190 Ricoeur will point out how part of recovering the narrated identity consists of positing identity not only in thought but also in the body.690 According to Ricoeur, the body is a basic particular of identity.691 A Cree person would extend this conception of identity to include not only the body but aski, or land, as well. In this way, a localized conception of a narrated identity can be seen in the story of the Gitxsan. They could have posed the question to those who claimed their territory, “If this is your land, where are your stories?”692

It might be argued that an embodied existence implies placing the body within space, and this category of space will suffice to include creation. However, the idea of space in Kant’s thought would propose that space and creation are different in that the former is an attempt to describe in objective or universal terms the local or common of human existence. Space does not necessarily point to a specific location, and as such it is an abstract term. The latter term, Creation, makes a theological statement concerning the origin of Kant’s space. For example, Pannenberg would argue that space, including the conception of infinity, is a theological term.693 As chapter two and Ricoeur's critique of Descartes point out, in doing away with the necessity of a body for identity, Descartes disconnects personal identity from narrated identity. Therefore, to rectify the situation, it is necessary to affirm that identity is an embodied existence, and to extend this to say that embodied existence, implies but not explicitly states, is related to its place in created space.

Extending Ricoeur’s understanding of embodied identity to include location is essential for an Indigenous theology because of the significance of the relationship to land within the corporate conception of Indigenous identity. This relationship, between the identity of the individual within the group within history and creation, will be the subject of chapter five. At this point, it would prove helpful to investigate Ricoeur’s thoughts on the way that the group shapes individual identity.

Ricoeur, having established that the body is a basic particular or that existence is an embodied existence, suggests or assumes that the narrated identity and personal identity rely on the group for their significance and recognition. Ricoeur uses the concept of identification when speaking of the body as a basic particular of person. Others are implied here because the other is the one

690 Ibid., 33. 691 Ibid., 31. 692 J. Edward Chamberlin, If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground, (Toronto: A.A. Knopf Canada, 2003), 1. 693 Wolfhart Pannenberg, An Introduction to Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1991), 37–52.

191 that describes you. In other words, it is not “I think; therefore, I am,” but rather, “We are; therefore, I am.” Thus, the narrated identity, the person with a body as seen in history, is described by the group. Not only this, but, having shifted “thinking” from the position of the first thing to that of a predicate of an embodied person, Ricoeur emphasizes that the validity of a thought or an idea is grounded in the possibility of other persons thinking or feeling similarly. This double ascription to ‘someone’ and to ‘someone else’ is what allows us to form the concept of mind, that is, the repertory of psychic predicates ascribable to ‘each one.'694 This “theory of utterance”695 assumes that there is a reservoir of meaning in the group, and this reservoir gives validity to individual thought, and by extension gives validity to individual identity. Because we can ascribe thought to others, we can ascribe thought to self. We can say ‘your’ thought and ‘my thought’ and point to the identity of self and other:

In other words, we have to acquire simultaneously the idea of reflexivity and the idea of otherness, in order to pass from the weak correlation between someone and anyone else, which is too easily assumable, to a strong correlation between belonging to the self, in the sense of mine, and belonging to another, in the sense of yours.696

Ricoeur emphasizes that this theory of utterance does not substitute for a theory of identifying the individual in the body, but could this reflexivity of speech point out once more the necessity of the group for identity?697

Ricoeur’s idea of identity being an embodied identity, with mental predicates that do not subsume the idea that identity is an embodied existence, can be extended when taken alongside a Cree conception of identity. Ricoeur points out the significance for identity of the concepts of mine and yours, I and you, and self and others. Remembering the example from the Cree language on inclusivity, the Cree would add ours and yours, we and you (plural), ‘our’ exclusive, and ‘our’ inclusive. (This concept was discussed earlier regarding home or land and can be observed in the description of home in Cree. One can say in Cree nikanan (Our house but not yours) or kikinaw (Our house including you).) This observation or extension of Ricoeur’s thought is possible in Cree because of the emphasis on shared group identity. Not the group identity that encompasses all humanity, but, instead, a group identity that refers in the original Cree language to familial bonds, referred to in Canada as ‘Bands,’ but expanded in recent years

694 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 38. 695 Ibid., 39. 696 Ibid. 697 Ibid.

192 to include others of Cree heritage who may or may not be close relatives. Perhaps, this is too easily assumable. However, if one is pursuing a theology that is attempting to put into language a description of the significant relationships of people to the spiritual, people to people, and people to creation, we must acknowledge that the Cree are inclined to think first about ‘we’ and not ‘you’—or at least about ‘I’ situated among ‘we’ and not ‘you.’

As mentioned above, the concept of land ownership contrasted between Euro-Canadians and Indigenous living in Canada provides further evidence that ‘I’ and ‘you’ do not in every culture assume ‘we’ and ‘them.’ The First Nations of Canada assume that Indigenous title to land is collective, and the country’s highest court concurs, commenting on the essence of Indigenous connection or ownership of land, “it can only be a community of Indigenous people, not by individuals.”698 Therefore, identity as perceived by Ricoeur—affirmed by mine and another’s— is also necessarily extended to a group conscious of ‘ours but not yours (plural).’ Ricoeur’s conception of identity does not preclude the possibility of a group perceiving itself with identity equivalent to individual identity, but he does show, as in much of the West, a propensity to assume the priority of the individual. Although Ricoeur is moving beyond the autonomous individual by pointing out that identity is contingent upon the other, the emphasis still resides primarily upon each individual and the group remains faceless.

That Ricoeur still presupposes the individual as central to his thought is made plain by his discussion of how narrated identity can lead to living in a good way. Ricoeur borrows his concept from Aristotle, who points out that ethics aim for one to live the good life, lived for others, leading to just institutions. These three components talk about the role of the individual as an agent, attempting to live for others so that the institutions of society are just. The first component of the good life Ricoeur points out is “Whatever the image that each of us has of a full life, this apex is the ultimate end of our actions.”699 Clearly, then, the actions of individuals are the foundation of the good life. Second, Ricoeur states that solicitude or care for others700 ought to be the goal of life. Living in a good way is the same goal that Indigenous people as a whole desire to achieve. The third component for a good life is just institutions.701 On this point, he is using the word institution widely to conceive of any historical community that is irreducible to interpersonal relations. What is essential, Ricoeur states, is that interpersonal relations extend

698 McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90's,” 3. 699 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another, 171. 700 Ibid., 181. 701 Ibid., 194.

193 to institutions in the area of justice. Now, it is in his understanding of justice that the focus on the individual can be observed.

Justice, in an institution, has equality as the ethical aim, and this is different from solicitude in interpersonal relationships; however, equality in just institution can create an environment that adds to the ability of individuals to care for others. Thus, equality is focused on persons as ‘each,’ in general terms, while solicitude focuses on care for the other specific person. The challenge that Indigenous people bring to Ricoeur’s conception of the good life flowing out of narrated identity is that of the group to group. Indigenous people are concerned for justice not only on the level of each to each, but group to group as well. For Indigenous people, the group is not “faceless,” but is an extension of personal identity. Within it, there is also a concern for the care of creation and a relationship to creation that does not result in the utilitarian use of creation. On this point, Indigenous people extend the idea of the good life to include the relationship to land and to fellow non-human creatures. Although non-human creatures may not be capable of personal interaction like that between two human beings, in Indigenous narrative they are capable of this kind of interaction, which results in them being treated with a respect and care that rises above utilitarian use. This shift, of course, could be understood in Ricoeur’s study, but he does not speak expressly on this point. His focus is on affirming the equality of all of humanity particularly, the ‘each' of every human being, giving preference to the individual over the group or, in Ricoeur’s words, “the institution.” Indigenous people are hesitant to see the individual as broken free from the community. Instead, they see themselves as part of the whole. It is this starting-point that has implications for identity. Ricoeur and Indigenous people would agree, however, that identity flows out of the community.

Of course, identity flowing from a community is not a new concept to theology, as chapter two made clear. Add to these the observations of Alasdair MacIntyre, who points out three concepts of communal identity in Thomist thought.702 First, identity is an embodied existence.703 Second, I am accountable for my actions in a community at all times.704 (This idea of identity over time is also found in Ricoeur’s thought. It is also part of the understanding of a person within the context of a Cree community, although accountability looks different because Cree culture would be

702 MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, 197–98. 703 Ibid. 704 Ibid.

194 classified as a shame-based culture as opposed to a guilt-based culture of the West.705) Third and finally, the unity of life is maintained via a life story that has a beginning, middle, and an end, whose quest was for good.706 Says MacIntyre, “This conception of personal identity and continuity was embodied in practice long before it was articulated as theory.”707 Ricoeur describes the theory of an embodied, narrated identity. The Cree would also bring together individual, story, and community. However, they would emphasize the community to a greater degree than even Aquinas, but definitely more than the modern West.

Identity is bound to the community, and a community that is larger than the Church. Again, Kathryn Tanner notes that a modern conception of Christian identity would claim that Christian identity is a bounded set that does not necessarily need the non-believing part of society or secular culture for identity. Tanner debunks this idea by noting that the post-modern turn observes that Christian identity is influenced by and borrows from non-Christian culture.708 In the same way, an Indigenous Christian community must borrow or rely on Indigenous culture for aspects of identity. The modern way was to replace primitive or Indigenous culture with modern Western culture.709 Tanner’s observation gives more support for acknowledging the necessity of an Indigenous cultural reading of the gospel as fundamental to the formation of an Indigenous Christian identity located within an Indigenous context that is connected to land and narrative. It also legitimates the necessity of Christian theology in North America learning from Indigenous people a way to understand how to hold all things together as a whole by focusing upon proper relatedness. Indigenous people, by taking the gospel and the Church into Indigenous identity, would see all of their relationships as part of their Indigenous Christian faith or spirituality. Historically, it has also been proven possible for newcomers to embrace this concept. The Métis Nation of Canada reveals that it is possible for newcomers to North America to live in close connection with the land. It is possible to be descended from French, Scottish, Irish, and English people, both protestant and Catholic, and yet to live as Indigenous people upon the land.710

705 The categories of shame-based and guilt-based serve to illustrate a perceived difference in language, and in attitude of how a group member is held accountable. 706 MacIntyre, Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry, 197–98. 707 Ibid. 708 Tanner, Theories of Culture, 53–56. 709 Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries, 3–48. 710 John Ralston Saul discusses how the Métis are a model for Canadian identity. See John Ralston Saul, A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada (Toronto: Viking Canada, 2008).

195 The significance of community and identity can also be seen in the thought of Wolfhart Pannenberg. He critiques the modern view of autonomous individual identity by pointing out that the individual achieves their greatest significance in the community.711 Pannenberg again emphasizes that the concept of community is not foreign to theology. Pannenberg’s emphasis, however, even while critiquing the modern conception of the individual, remains similar to Ricoeur’s: upon the ‘I and thou.’ The Cree conception of ‘we’ could expand this. Pannenberg wants to push toward group or community as the quest of theology and the Christian life; Cree theology would say that ‘we are,’ and so ‘I’ finds significance.

Indigenous scholars develop the idea that the group makes it possible to conceive of individual identity. Vine Deloria makes a case for a re-appropriation of the communal sense of identity that exists among Indigenous people.712 For, the West has been preoccupied with the individual.713 As Deloria writes, “From John Locke to John Rawls, the important decisions are to be made by individuals possessing neither father nor mother, village nor tribe, age nor gender.”714 Deloria’s use of hyperbole draws attention to the problem of attempting to look at individual identity without situating the individual within a community of people. Identity must be extended to include more than just the individual. Ricoeur begins this process by describing a theory of identity that extends beyond the Cartesian individual; an Indigenous philosophy would extend the conception beyond the individual to include the group.

In summary, according to Ricoeur, the identity of the individual is not limited to cogito ergo sum. Identity is an embodied identity that has thoughts but is only discoverable by the community or the other. This identity gains validity because it can be described or considered by the other. We can conceive of some idea as originating from another person or the community. It is their idea, which leads us to the conclusion that we may have an idea of our own, which is ours. This establishes the idea of an embodied identity with mental predicates, but it assumes that the position of the other is accessible. On this point, the perspective of Indigenous people is helpful, for it would propose that the individual’s identity assumes the reality of the group to legitimate one’s ontological status. The group exists, and I am part of the group; therefore, I exist. This existence, though, must take place in a specific place: upon the land.

711 Pannenberg, What is Man? Contemporary Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 94. 712 Deloria, “Philosophy and the Tribal Peoples,” 10. 713 Ibid. 714 Ibid.

196 Thus, one finds in Ricoeur’s thought a justification for the proposal that the communal focus of Indigenous people is legitimate. It can be seen as extending the ideas of Ricoeur's embodied existence to include specific place, or land. The locative nature of identity, of course, needs clarification, for at this point it is only clear that this is narrative identity because it draws its significance from the community and it uses narrative in this process. The innovation available to the community can be seen or described by using Ricoeur's ideas about metaphor. Therefore, the next step will be to examine Ricoeur’s understanding of metaphor and, by extension, a story as it relates to the development of identity within the context of the language of a group. Metaphors and stories do more than merely add ornamentation to the thought of a group of people; they serve to aid the development of thought and identity. They are instructive and innovative, not merely ornamental.

For Ricoeur, narrative is fundamental for identity because it is through narrative that one makes sense of the historical development of character and identity. This ability to state or see life as a narrative is what makes one able to order life or make sense of life. This approach is not only attempting to give the facts of an account but to make room for envisioning the future as well— even though history is, in a sense, a description or plotting of the events of life that make them understandable. Now, the historiographical methods employed to ensure the accuracy of history are the subject of debate. Even in the research of this work, the accuracy of individual oral accounts of history were called into question, and, when investigated, were found not to be factual.715 Truth or fiction, of course, does not disprove the role of arranging events in the writing of history, but merely reveals that revisions can, should, and do occur when telling what happened. However, it is on this point where metaphor and, by extension, story and the writing of history, perhaps part ways. Aristotle states in Poetics that the metaphor, especially in tragedy, takes in humanity rather than the events of a particular incident.716 In metaphor, the events are arranged for a particular purpose that is different from history. History points out what has happened, metaphor and story what may happen.717 Ricoeur, however, points out that history also uses emplotment and is, in a sense, narrative, although perhaps with a different telos.718 Suffice it to say that narrative is how we understand the events of life. Thus, for the Cree, their

715 Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, "Oral Traditions and Aboriginal Pasts: An Interdisciplinary Review of the Literatures," (Ottawa: Government of Canada, 2005). 716 Aristotle, “Poetics,” The Internet Classics Archive (Daniel C. Stevenson, Web Atomics), Part IX. 717 Ibid. 718 Ricoeur, Oneself as Another,164.

197 story functions to provide a space for their individual and group identities. Ricoeur, as was stated above, is making this point when attempting to bring together self and identity.

If one of the purposes of theology is to describe and prescribe a Christian Cree identity, it must include the Cree understanding of story. My contention throughout this work has been that the Cree story—not only the factual material that is possible to be gleaned from the oral tradition or myths of the past but also the way that Cree society understands story to be working—makes it possible or provides space from which to develop a holistic Indigenous Christian identity. This thesis has focused upon the communal nature of Cree identity, which necessitates a group, and the Cree conception of a group identity, which includes a relationship to land or creation. Propositions in the inner subjective are necessary but must continue to occupy the space of a second order; the Indigenous community must own a real text719 in the gospel story. In essence, Indigenous people must read the gospel story or canon of scripture through their own stories in order to do First Nations Christian theology. Ricoeur’s understanding of the role of metaphor is helpful to affirm the space that exists for innovation as far as meaning is concerned, as well as dynamic identity.

Returning to consider Ricoeur’s conception of identity, it is necessary to take up again the idea that identity is an embodied existence and as such, for the Cree, this includes the idea of a communal identity, which includes relationship with spiritual beings, with peoples, and with land or creation. Ricoeur’s move to locate thoughts not as the locus of identity but rather as one of the predicates of identity and self is helpful, but does Ricoeur move beyond Descartes in seeking the narrated identity? I ask this because one could argue that by turning again to focus upon individual thought Ricoeur is taking an inward turn to locate once more the inward subjective self. I would argue that he can overcome being locked in his subjective self by locating the narrated identity not within the subjective self but within the epistemic world. Ricoeur focuses upon the character or agent in narrative to locate the self or identity. This move secures Ricoeur outside of the subjective inner world of Descartes because it relies upon the group being able to ascribe action to the character or individual. Having introduced this idea earlier, by describing thought as a predicate of the embodied existence, it is possible to argue that doing so does not necessarily move one past Descartes. Descartes also takes as his foundation the act of thinking to

719I am borrowing the idea of a real text from Stanley Fish when he observes that because of interpretation and translation, no one community can claim to have an objective text, but every community constructs a real text. See Stanley Eugene Fish, Is There a Text in this Class?: The Authority of Interpretive Communities (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1980).

198 locate self. However, his thought must be observed by someone to validate his thinking. Perhaps Descartes seeks to rely on God for this validation. Others who follow are not so inclined. For example, as already mentioned, Nietzsche doubts Descartes’ inner world and self. If this move is valid, then how has Ricoeur been able to avoid the same skepticism that traps Descartes? What is the element that makes Ricoeur’s move function? I would propose that it is the presence of the community. At least this is one Cree’s conception of what makes the move capable of withstanding a skeptical maelstrom.

That identity is narrated and not only personal, based on , solidifies or renders identity more concrete. The identity is located within a narrative constructed and maintained by aid of the group. Identity mediated by narrative does not result in all possible conflicts being eradicated. It does provide, as already mentioned above, a location, or terra firma (irony intended) for an Indigenous embodied existence upon the earth, or even more, for creation as a relative. Recall from chapter three the idea that treaty could be construed as an attempt at a shared narrative that includes history, but is not limited to what was; it also has metaphoric use, in the sense that it points toward what could be, or toward the good life. Treaty, then, is in keeping with Ricoeur’s idea of history also sharing the genre of narrative, but it shares with metaphor the process of attempting to order the events of the past to highlight the action and point toward the desired future.720

Ricoeur’s conception of story or metaphor on this point is helpful because it seeks to highlight the necessity of Indigenous people locating themselves within the story; my example is of ‘treaty’ put forward by Indigenous people as a symbol or sign of a something shared between the nation-state of Canada and Indigenous ancestors but also including the Church. Could this not also illustrate the necessity of an Indigenous narrated identity that takes into account the past but also projects into the future? Treaty, as mentioned in chapter two and three, is an attempt at a shared narrative on shared space that is concerned with locating the group identity of both newcomer and Indigenous, the history of the relationship, and direction into the future. This aligns with the idea of living in a good way for others, leading to a just society. Ricoeur’s understanding of story helps to illuminate a possible way forward past proposition to something that holds a surplus of meaning and perhaps a surplus of identity. It is in search of this surplus of

720 Vine Deloria and Steve Charleston are two Indigenous authors who use the Old Testament idea of covenant to describe Indigenous people’s approach to newcomers to North America. See Deloria, Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto, and Charleston, “The Old Testament of Native America.”

199 meaning and identity that I now turn to consider Ricoeur’s description and use of metaphor— and, I would contend, by extension of this idea, the role of narrative or story.

Ricoeur on Metaphor

Ricoeur’s seminal work on metaphor, The Rule of Metaphor, begins by making clear that, at this point in history, the role of metaphor, having had great prominence in the time of Aristotle and rhetoric, has been reduced to an ornamental function and is therefore not the purveyor of any new meaning and thus is not instructive. As he writes:

We hypothesized in the introduction and will now try to prove that purely rhetorical treatment of metaphor is the result of an excessive and damaging emphasis put initially on the word, or more specifically, on the noun or name, and on naming, in the theory of meaning; whereas a properly semantic treatment of metaphor proceeds from the recognition of the sentence as the primary unit of meaning.721

In other words, the preoccupation with identifying meaning with the noun renders the metaphor a substitution for a more basic noun that would better hold the meaning attached to the metaphor.722 This reductionist move is characteristic of some of Western thought’s quest for truth and clarity. For example, Thomas Hobbes writes, “Seeing that truth consisted in the right ordering of names in our affirmation, a man that seeks precise truth needed to remember what every name he uses stands for and to place it accordingly; or else he find himself entangled in words.”723 As well, John Locke points out:

Vague and insignificant forms of speech and abuse of language have so long passed for mysteries of science, and hard or misapplied words . . . to be mistaken for deep learning and height of speculation; that it will be hard to persuade either those who speak or those who hear them, that they are but the covers of ignorance and hindrance of true knowledge.724

Thus the idea that words and figures and tropes, to use Hobbes’ language, confuse and cover up the knowledge one is attempting to discover. Language is something that must be continually analyzed and refined to render its truth up to the investigator. At least, according to Hobbes, “Metaphor and Tropes of speech . . . profess their inconstancy,”725 making plain that metaphor is

721 Paul Ricœur, The Rule of Metaphor: Multi-disciplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language (Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1977), 49. 722 Ibid., 51–52. 723 Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, ed. C. B. Macpherson, (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1968), 105. 724 Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, The Epistle to the Reader. 725 Hobbes, Leviathan, 110.

200 not something through which truth might be arrived at. Ricoeur is attempting to illustrate that metaphor is capable and regularly is a means to new understanding. As Ricoeur writes, “one must say that metaphor bears information because it redescribes reality.”726

This ‘re-description of reality’ will prove helpful as it captures the necessary enterprise of Indigenous people attempting to come to grips with the change in reality that occurred with the coming of Europeans to the territory of Canada. As Ricoeur points in the face of a change in things, re-description requires innovation, metaphor is

a semantic innovation . . . responding in a creative fashion to a question presented by things. In a certain discourse situation, in a given social milieu and at a precise moment, something seeks to be said that demands an operation of speech. . . . The final outcome is a new description of the universe of representations.727

This innovation by use of metaphor, of course, has implications for the theological enterprise of Indigenous people in defining how identity is maintained and developed when not only encountering European people but their version of Christianity as well. This task of trying to understand Christian identity in a new location is not only for Indigenous people but for any people wishing to engage in the theological process. There is a necessity to re-describe the reality of their particular identity in light of the gospel story proper and their particular situation and location, and then to discuss the ethical implications of the situation. Of course, this process is not linear, moving from biblical story to biblical theology, to systematic theology, to ethics, for theology is but one of the categories of a group as it interprets the gospel story in light of its reality.728

As discussed in chapter one, Ricoeur affirms in his discussion of metaphor that there is a propensity in the West to want to describe reality in reductionist terms, focusing on getting to the exact words to describe reality. In other words, the desire to be as literal as possible in describing reality with the ‘best’ words or to encapsulate the core of Western theological thought and reality into a succinct set of propositions ultimately has limitations when communicating the desired meaning to a new group such as Cree people intersecting Western theology. The thin description

726Ricœur, The Rule of Metaphor, 22–23. 727 Ibid., 145. 728 Joel Green, “Practicing the Gospel in a Post-critical World: The Promise of Theological Exegesis,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 47, no. 3 (2004): 387–97.

201 of reality in a proposition and specific words is rendered inadequate because of the propensity in the West to continue to reduce meaning to the noun or word.

As Ricoeur points out, this preoccupation with specific words, to the point that certain language becomes sacred, does not take seriously the translation that must occur between one group and another. This resistance to “foreign” (in this case Indigenous) mediation, specifically in the area of Christian theology, lay behind “cultural hegemony.”729 Thus, in the quest for literal meaning, the West routinely sets aside its proposition in favour of the quest for specific words that give the ideas that lie behind the words; because of the challenge of translation, the specific word or proposition is unable to communicate without interpretation beyond its specific context. Metaphor—and, by extension, story—will prove of greater use in attempting to describe this process of translation of any words and concepts, and then, specifically, the implication for how that impacts the translation of the gospel story and Christian tradition across cultural lines.

However, it is also necessary to make a case once more for why proposition alone will not suffice; Ricoeur seems to open the possibility that the sentence is regarded as the basic unit of meaning. Ricoeur traces Pierre Fontanier’s thought and wonders if one does not reduce all things not to named objects but to simple propositions.730 Moreover, is it not possible for said propositions to function as a type of metaphor that could communicate the ‘fundamentals’ necessary for the gospel and thus for the development of an Indigenous theology? After all, a proposition having a spiritual, literal, or intellectual meaning is not devoid of a surplus of meaning.731 However, Ricoeur points out that the propensity is to ascribe literal meaning to the words, and spiritual meaning is dependent upon taking words figuratively.732 If one’s goal is to communicate the ‘fundamentals’ of the faith, then a figurative meaning would be undesirable. As well, if one argued that a figurative meaning of proposition is acceptable, it would prove that one’s theology was developing from derived propositions, not from the gospel story or canon of scripture proper. Again, if orthodoxy holds the primacy of the canon of scripture, then shifting focus onto a reduced set of propositions proves problematic. As well, does not the canon of scripture understood as the narrative of the Triune God concerning his creation serve as a better place from which to derive theology? Finally, George Lindbeck rightly observes, “For propositionalists, if a doctrine is once true, it is always true, and if it is once false, it is always

729 Ricœur, On Translation, 4. 730 Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor, 56–57. 731 Ibid., 57. 732 Ibid.

202 false.”733 Thus, taking a doctrine comprised of proposition in a ‘figurative’ fashion would be untenable.734

I am not advocating eliminating proposition but rather following the line of thought put forward by Ricoeur, seeking to locate community in the context of metaphor, meaning, and identity. Propositions, Lindbeck observes, exist within a larger intra-textual world of practices, symbols, and dogmas, and cannot be reduced to the proposition only.735 Ricoeur does not seek to eliminate meaning from words by putting forward metaphor as primary to discourse. He is stating that language is unstable and that potential meanings abound, even if one locates the basic unit of meaning in a word or a sentence, the interplay between the two makes for a multitude of possibilities.736 Metaphor is basic to discourse and dialogue. Moreover, dialogue is important to our discussion; to forward the theological enterprise of Indigenous people in North America, the process must fit into the rubric of dialogue. What he does in describing the function of metaphor is point toward a possible direction for the unfolding of metaphor in a way that would make it possible for meaning to move outward and shift in such a way as to achieve some desired end. In other words, what Ricoeur does is advocate an expanded sense of metaphor, so that it is not relegated to mere ornamentation but functions as a tutor to lead towards new understanding. This new understanding is necessary within the eschatological nature of our context.737 points out the limits of human history738 and that our truth-statements are provisional, but we need not lapse into skepticism, for we are moving towards certainty.739

The shift in language and meaning, of course, has at least two ramifications for our discussion of metaphor and identity. First, literal meaning is included within the rubric of truth statement; thus, metaphor is indispensable as we move from literal meaning to literal meaning. Ricoeur at no point seeks to eradicate certainty in a Nietzsche-like fashion. Neither does Ricoeur seek to sever the relationship between words and meaning in a Schleiermacher-like move that locates the meaning with a subjective feeling. At the same time, he does not sever the connection between metaphor or texts and feelings. The appeal of Ricoeur to Indigenous though is that he attempts to

733 Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine, 16. 734 Ibid. 735 George A. Lindbeck, The Future of Roman Catholic Theology ; Vatican Ii - Catalyst for Change (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970), 130. 736 Ricœur, The Rule of Metaphor, 146. 737 Ricoeur, Political and Social Essays. 7. 738 Ibid. 739 Stiver, Theology After Ricoeur, 222.

203 find the mediating position, seeking to avoid ‘either, or’ approaches. What he does provide is a way in which metaphor contributes to progress in meaning. The literal meaning of a word, in a fashion, has shifted in identity. It begins to shift by its interaction between an understood concept and a new or foreign concept. However, there is something within the horizon of the speaker, or author, which makes her choose to use a familiar concept or word as a metaphor for the new concept. Thus, the sureness of the literal meaning or identity of a word or concept makes it possible for use as metaphor. Again, this is significant for our discussion of Indigenous identity and Indigenous Christian identity, because with the coming of the gospel to North America the Cree were forced to deal with ideas and concepts that were being described with foreign language. Translation involved the use of metaphor to progress towards something new in their understanding, and is thus instructive.740 However, there is never a one-to-one correspondence, and there remains a possibility of interaction and retranslation as the foreign languages and concepts seek to dialogue to arrive at new meaning without losing touch with the previous meaning.741

Second, Ricoeur places metaphor at the leading edge of the movement toward new understanding founded within the context of the common or the communal.742 For example, he points out that metaphor relies upon at least two words or ideas. One word is found within the context of the understood in the community, and then said word is used for a concept that is unknown. Thus, the community is present because, from the reservoir of meaning held by the community, a trope is put forward to name a new concept for the community. As time continues, the metaphor may cease to function as a metaphor, but may become aligned with the new concept, and in this way the community receives something new. Thus, these two points are significant for the ongoing theological enterprise for the Cree, and, as far as that is concerned, for any people. As already alluded to in the preceding paragraph, the coming of the Western gospel to North America needed translation into the categories of the Cree people, and Ricoeur would point out that this included the translation of tradition as well.743

740 An example of the shift in the meaning or identity of words can be seen within the Cree language after the introduction of the horse to North America. Having no word to describe a horse, the Cree used a word that means, literally, “big dog.” Over time mistatim became synonomous with “horse,” but, given the right context, it can still refer to a big dog. 741 Ricœur, On Translation, 22. 742 Ricoeur, The Rule of Metaphor, 33. 743 Ricoeur, “Rhetoric - Poetics - Hermeneutics,” 60–72.

204 As Lesslie Newbigin points out, the gospel must accept, at least provisionally, the understanding of the receptive culture.744 Thus, if people use metaphor and story to make sense of new concepts, then Indigenous people needed to use their metaphors and story to make sense of the gospel being proclaimed by the incoming people from Europe. On this last point, my position is that this was not always allowed to occur. This interplay or disconnect between Western and First Nations cultures could, and still does, provide a gap in which new meaning and understanding can develop. As McCall points out, the gap between cultures in Canada could be a place where collaboration could occur to achieve a new relationship.745 Again, metaphor provides an example of collaboration that makes possible the movement toward something new emerging from the common language of both. Thus, as the community dialogues using metaphor—and, by extension, story or narrative—the community collaborates to move toward some new understanding. This brings us again to the necessity of a theological beginning-point or touchpoint at which the community finds its voice or its pen to continue to reconfigure its story to include a Christian theology.

This observation leads to at least two other points. First, to clarify the preceding paragraph, it would be helpful to mention that collaboration, as McCall points out, is an Indigenous value surrounding borders or boundaries. Borders, for many First Nations, are not limits not to be transgressed but rather are opportunities for collaboration.746 This collaboration takes concrete form as treaties between Indigenous nations. This idea also receives support if one recalls the discussion of the Cree language and the resistance Cree speakers have to a simple one-to-one correspondence between meaning and words. Thus, the border between two tribes has certain fluidity; the border between meanings ebbs and flows. Therefore, with regards to land, in order to be in another’s territory it is necessary to engage in the proper protocol; with regards to meaning and reality, there is dialogue. The presence of protocol leads to a second point: this idea of a border or boundary being fluid is uncomfortable for the theology of the Western missionaries encountered by Indigenous people. Great effort was sought to eliminate ambiguity in meaning. This the touchpoint for Ricoeur’s idea of metaphor: it is not merely a displacement of one word for another, but rather for interaction747 and collaboration between communities.

744 Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks, 5. 745 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across.’” 746 Mark McDonald, February 20, 2009. 747 Ricœur, The Rule of Metaphor, 71–76.

205 The role of metaphor in this process of communal identity is vital. As we have already seen, the process of emplotment is vital to story, and story or narrative is how a community makes sense of its existence. This is true for the individual as well as the collective. In order for an Indigenous Christian identity to develop, it is necessary for the Indigenous collective to use its categories and concepts as it works through the metaphoric process of accounting for changing context. To insist that Indigenous communities must use Western concepts and categories and the resulting metaphors inhibits the process.748 The metaphoric process is the space where dialogue between Indigenous and Western can take place. However, the West, like any group that has held a monopoly in a particular area such as Christianity, has resisted the idea of dialogue.

As Tienou points out, the West has had a propensity to talk but not listen.749 The hope is that framing the theological enterprise of commenting on Christian identity within the context of the narrative of the community would result in a more robust Indigenous Christian identity that would add to Christian identity in general, first in North American and then perhaps in other locations as well. Thus, beginning again, the desired starting-starting point is a dialogue between the newcomer to North America and the Indigenous community with the gospel story as translated through the Western tradition, but retranslated into the story-language of the Indigenous people. Towards this end, it is necessary to return to Ricoeur’s discussion of metaphor and its implication of extension to the discussion of narrative or story.

The discussion of metaphor relies on Ricoeur’s explanation of metaphor and the categories of interpretation and generation of metaphor, in particular Ricoeur’s observation that metaphor proves instructive and not merely ornamental. At the same time, metaphor as a category does not lose the sense in its use of said metaphors of interaction. It is true that over time a metaphor that began as a substitution can gain acceptance as the common term or expression for some concept. However, the metaphor is not merely substituting for the exact word; it is interacting with context, words, speaker, and the community. Over time, the hermeneutical process can be seen as more direct, as taking less time, in the sense that the correlation between the concept or object and the metaphor seems more direct. The metaphor is functioning as a name for said concept or object and has almost ceased to be a second-order or substitution, and it can no longer be reduced

748 Denny Weaver points out the problems with uncritically bringing forward Anselm’s penal theory of atonement into all cultural settings. For example, he points out the problems James Cone has with the metaphor because it places African-American people in perminant second-place position. See J. Denny Weaver, The Nonviolent Atonement (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 2001). 749 Tienou, “Indigenous Theologizing: From the Margins to the Center,” 14.

206 to some better concept or word to describe said concept. There is a surplus of meaning available that ought not to be limited.

The narrative enters into the discussion of metaphor on several levels. First, narrative, like metaphor, relies on emplotment for generation. It would probably be more accurate to say that narrative is emplotment. This is the way that sense is made of a situation. There is a danger, perhaps, of the argument at this point being somewhat circular. Having used the idea of emplotment to point out that metaphor makes decisions of what it will include and what it will leave out in its generation, now I am saying that, like metaphor, narrative uses the idea of selection to point forth some understanding of a particular situation, context, image, or idea. I prefer to accept that this is merely a shift in vantage point concerning the explanation of these concepts. This objection does not endanger the connection between emplotment and metaphor or narrative emplotment and metaphor. The one is merely an extension of the other. A metaphor is part of narrative, and narrative could function as a metaphor.750 Suffice it to say that narrative orders or plots the events, information, and observations to make sense in the same way that metaphor chooses in order to make sense or move toward some understanding.

Second, metaphor and narrative both provide a surplus of meaning for a community. As the category of metaphor is not reducible to something else, it maintains its connection to words and meaning; however, it does not lose its phenomenon of interaction. The metaphor, particularly if we use a definition of metaphor whose base unit is the sentence, is greater than the sum of all its parts. Include also the participants who encounter the text in changing context; the possibility of a change in description does not diminish. The metaphor continues to be a way to move forward toward something else, as new information, concepts, and language emerge. In the same way, narrative does not reduce to something else. Words and proposition and images are important; principles and meaning are not eliminated or are unattainable, however, for as metaphor is irreducible to a single literary meaning, so also is narrative irreducible to principles of propositions or to some more definite meaning with zero remainder. The idea of emplotment remains as a way forward for discourse and, I would suggest, for dialogue. This, of course, will bear fruit when considering the way forward for an Indigenous theology.

750 I have not concluded that because narratives and metaphor share some similarites, scripture is a metaphor. The specificity of the biblical narrative as revelation is preserved according to Ricoeur.

207 Third, metaphor and narrative change in their interpretive significance over time. This observation shares with the second the idea of the irreducibility. However, this does not mean a static character to the interpretation of the content of metaphor, narrative, or identity. Hans Frei has made clear that the classic liberal discussion of the meaningfulness of biblical text in essence sets up a wall that eclipses the biblical narrative.751 The biblical narrative is replaced or supplanted by the interpreter’s discussion of their process. Eclipsing the narrative remains a danger of this work as well, but in naming this I am hoping to avoid this same accident by making the focus of this work the description and validation of a vantage point where Indigenous communal identity might dialogue with the canon of scripture or gospel story as a first thing. Also their narrative, with their story craft: The whole Indigenous narrative process is what is in mind at this point. The description of the process is not meant to be a replacement for the narrative dialogue between the gospel story and the Indigenous narrated identity; the description of the process will empower the Indigenous community by pointing out the free space available. The alternative to attempting to explain the process would rely on simply refusing to dialogue on the issue.

Before concluding the discussion of narrative, it is necessary to turn to Ricoeur’s discussion of narrative and mimesis. In the discussion of metaphor, the focus has been on the translation of meaning from one context to another, but there is a need for a more thorough discussion of other elements of narrative by Ricoeur that align with the performative nature of Indigenous story in the development of identity. Specifically, how identity can remain the same, yet be changing over time. It is in the discussion of mimesis that the view of free space for the development of identity is sharpened. Again, Ricoeur’s description of narrative prefiguration, configuration, and reconfiguration illustrates the power of story to provide space for an Indigenous identity that includes land and non-human creatures to enter into the pursuit of the life lived in a good way, the historical treaty process seen as narrative being an exemplar of this process.

Ricoeur on Mimesis

According to Ricoeur, “The impertinence of metaphoric displacement of meaning is preserved in a sentence in the whole process of discourse, which is greater than or equal to the sentence.”752 In other words, language is unstable but productive because of the potential of meaning within

751 Frei, The Elipse of Biblical Narrative, 5. 752 Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1: ix.

208 the text as it is exposed to different audiences. There remains the possibility of innovation of meaning, or metaphorical displacement of meaning: one word, idea, or concept used for something else. Language shifts its identity, meaning one thing at one point in time, and shifting to mean something else, or the concept remaining the same now being discussed with different language. How does one account for this shift in meaning of the language or identity of the words or concepts? Ricoeur pursued an answer to this question. However, Ricoeur was not only talking about language, for if words and language are tied to agents, then how does one account for the shift, or seeming shift, in identity in the agent? How does identity shift over time or mean multiple things at the same moment? As mentioned above, Ricoeur concludes that there is “a narrative structure of human existence.”753 To explain this narrative process and narrative identity, Ricoeur uses the idea of mimesis, which is

a reference back to the familiar pre-understanding we have of the order of action; an entry into the realm of poetic composition; and finally a new configuration by means of the poetic refiguring of the pre-understanding order of action.754

Ricoeur’s three volumes of Time and Narrative attempt to offer a solution to the problem of time, which is and is not, by way of emplotment from Aristotle’s poetics. In order to make sense of time, or the changing circumstances, and put into it something understandable that can be communicated forward, reality or its perception is placed into a narrative or mimetic circle, which is defined by Ricoeur as having a threefold process: prefiguration or mimesis1; configuration or memesis2; and mimesis3 reconfiguration.755 However, this narrative ordering of events is not merely so events can be listed and remembered, but so that they can be remembered in a particular way so that the community can encounter the text or narrative and change and develop in light of the evolving events of life.

Ricoeur concludes that in order to account for changing circumstances in life, a community of people use their stories to account for how these changes are to be negotiated. For Indigenous communities, the storyteller takes the actions or circumstances that have come to the community and orders them in a story. According to Ricoeur, it is not the character that is imitated, but the action that is imitated or recreated in the story. Thus, when a text or story is told or performed, the audience can bring to the text or story categories that already exist in the community. In this way the audience prefigures the action, characters, and plot of the story so that the receptor

753 Kenzo, Dialectic of Sedimentation and Innovation, 130. 754 Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1: xi. 755 Kenzo, Dialectic of Sedimentation and Innovation, 133.

209 audience hears the story in a particular way. Chapters two and three discuss that this Indigenous prefiguration means that the category of land is part of the story. The narratives composed by Indigenous people must take place or include the territory of Indigenous people. For example, in Indigenous treaty, the place of the signing of treaty is also part of the treaty process. This treaty process includes the idea of a yearly re-enactment or renewal that takes place upon the same territory. In an Indigenous context, then, if one is talking about the gospel story or canon of scripture, it will be heard with an emphasis characteristic of Indigenous story, including the positive as well as the negative. Indigenous people will place the events surrounding the coming of the gospel to North America within a narrative. This process of emplotment moves the process of mimesis from reconfiguration to configuration.756

According to Ricoeur, emplotment puts the events into a meaningful whole in the form of a narrative. Ricoeur notes that in this way time is applied to the events: there is a beginning and an end to the story. However, because it is a narrative or a story, this means that the story can be repeated, which makes it timeless, or a place where successive audiences can encounter the same events. This narrative or story brings together things that would otherwise be impossible to bring together. For Indigenous story, for example, in the story or narrative animals can talk, the earth could take on personal characteristics, and human beings can experiment and see where certain actions will lead. Thus, emplotment gives space for the community to imagine possible . This is the step of configuration, for the storyteller—as pointed out in the previous chapter and confirmed now by Ricoeur—has a purpose in mind in the ordering of events. However, that purpose is not to tell how the world is as much as how it might be. The purpose of the storyteller is to tell the story in a way that recreates the action. The Indigenous storyteller adds the action that took place upon the land. All this leads to or produces some response, change, or action in the audience, which moves the process of mimesis from configuration to reconfiguration. This also can be understood with regards to treaty as a shared narrative. What is recreated is the action of Indigenous people and newcomers agreeing to live in the land harmoniously. Indigenous people continue to call for a return to this treaty relationship even in the midst of the negative experiences. For example, in response to the debacle of the residential schools in Canada, Call to Action 45.3 of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission calls for a renewed covenant of reconciliation in a way that honours the historic treaty relationship.757 This plots or locates the

756 Ibid., 65–67. 757 Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada., “Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Calls to Action,” (Winnipeg, MB: 2015), 5.

210 ongoing relationship between First Nations and newcomers in a narrative that is still connected with the past but is attempting to predict the future or put forth a desired future.

Reconfiguration happens when the audience encounters the story. There is productive engagement between the audience and the story. In an Indigenous context, the story would be told and heard. Recall from chapter three how, in an Indigenous context, when the audience listens to the narrative—or in Ricoeur’s terms, reads the text—they do something with the text. In this way, the audience is fulfilling its responsibility to do something with the story. At the same time, Ricoeur points out that the action produced in the audience can be unexpected, especially as the audience is further away from the original events.758 This confirms an idea that Indigenous storytellers have long held, that the story is always open-ended and could produce unanticipated responses in the audience because of the context of the audience. At the same time, thinking about treaty, the land and Indigenous memory remain part of the refigured story in a new context. What is different for an Indigenous context is that the land acts as a character in the narrative. Whatever the reconfiguration, some account of this relationship remains.

The changing context of the audience and repeatability of story returns us to the opening observation of this section, that metaphoric impertinence continues to exist in the text or narrative, because as the audience encounters new events, changing language, and their own changing identity, they use metaphor to bridge the gap between the story and the reader. The text or narrative projects a world that intersects with the world of the audience, and the process begins again. Thus, the narrative is a productive space for the transformation of identity.

Indigenous people have struggled to make Christian theology their own, and part of this struggle is the result of Indigenous people being cut off from the two sources of theology: their own identity and the gospel story proper. Paul Ricoeur’s approach to hermeneutics, although it comes from a Western context, is emancipatory in an Indigenous context. Ricoeur points out that as the West has reduced metaphor to ornamentation, and placed all meaning in particular nouns or names, this reductionist move has meant that with the loss of the skill at metaphor and narrative, something of the gospel as story has been lost as well. Like Hans Frei, Ricoeur points out that the West has tended to replace or reduce the gospel story or genres of the canon of scripture with its theology or even with its categories for hearing and seeing what is in the text. The surplus

758 Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, 1: 77–79.

211 meaning present in the story has been eclipsed or ‘capped’ and made unavailable to new communities.

This eclipsing or capping of the text is highlighted when considering Ricoeur’s three moves of mimesis as a philosophical description of the way that story works. First, Ricoeur states that when community encounters a story or text, it brings its own “preconfiguration” to the story. When Indigenous people encounter a story, they configure the story or hear the story according to their categories. If this is allowed to happen, there is a reconfiguring of the narrative that results in the story doing something within the new group. This reconfiguration in the new group does something that results in the possibility of ordering life according to the story. Indigenous people have in the past been hindered from moving through this process. They have not been permitted to see how the gospel story could be made at home within their territory—in essence, to be allowed to enter into the treaty. Treaty as narrative would allow a larger place to include the gospel and at the same time take in the treaty as an example of right relatedness. This understanding is a figurative reading but would offer a productive way forward toward an ongoing Indigenous Christian identity.

This three-step process of coming to a new understanding describes how when each person encounters the biblical text, there is an initial understanding, or prefiguration or naïveté. This initial naïveté does not preclude any meaning in the text or a final meaning in the text, but it exists within the existing framework of understanding. However, one cannot remain at this level of initial naïveté; there is a need and ability to apply the critical methods of exegesis and explanation to the text. On this point, Ricoeur makes his biggest contribution to describe how narrative functions as a source for theology. This aspect will be developed later in this paper. During this second stage, the stage of configuration, there is a fusion of the horizon of the text and the horizon of the interpreter, which moves us to the third stage of reconfiguration, or a second naïveté. It is called the second naïveté only when we take our new understanding and return to the text to check our understanding. This new understanding is not a finishing point but a new point of beginning. The text has a surplus of meaning, and it is projecting a new horizon; we also have an expanded horizon, and these two are fused, again. Thus, the ongoing process of interpretation continues. One could say that there is an ongoing conversion as the text confronts the reader or community again and again. However, this process has been stifled with the stifling of Indigenous identity and story.

212 If Paul Ricoeur, a recognized leader in his field, observes that the West has a tendency to attempt to eliminate or reduce the surplus of meaning in metaphor and by extension in story, and if biblical revelation comes to us in the form of story, then this tendency will manifest itself by supplanting the gospel story and limiting the surplus meaning. This will limit options for interpretation which, in turn, will limit the theological process of ‘faith seeking understanding.’ How could Western theology be an adequate starting-point for the theology of anyone who is not from the West? The question has two answers. In one sense, Indigenous people in North America received the Christian canon of scripture from the West, along with its theological doctrine, or grammar (if using Lindbeck’s idea of doctrine being the grammar of community encountering the text). So, part of their understanding of Christianity does begin with hearing about Christian faith and theology from someone else, as all apostolic faith must begin from someone else. However, Indigenous people already had conceptions of a religious sort— ‘convictions’ as McClendon labelled them—so their categories and ways of hearing the gospel story are not primarily from the West. At the same time, Indigenous interpretation must in some way begin with the Western theological doctrine, but it cannot end with Western theological doctrine. When Ricoeur points out that theology is a second-order discourse that has as its source the biblical text or gospel story, he creates room for an ongoing movement or development of Christian thought and meaning and identity. After all, a theological process that does not begin and end with the canon of scripture is stuck in a decaying orbit and will eventually dissolve into meaninglessness, cut off from its source and tied to a particular language game. Ricoeur is advocating an enlarged interpretive process regarding any narrative, and this notion is transferable to the theological process.

The shift toward a narrative approach to theology also shifts the focus from primarily the conclusions of what was one group’s refiguring stage, resulting in a loss of narrative, both of the biblical texts and of the process of arriving at the said conclusion. If Ricoeur’s critique of the West’s approach to metaphor and narrative is valid, and if this critique is extended to an Indigenous context, it explains in part why Indigenous people have been expected to adapt Western theological conclusions to their own context. This adaptation results in limiting prematurely the interaction between Indigenous categories of identity and the gospel story to only those categories allowed by said western theological conclusions.

James Cox points this out in his study, which observes that through much of modernity missionaries attempting to use education to make disciples of Alaskan Natives used a method of

213 adaptation.759 The western interpretation of the gospel was adapted to fit the native context. As a result, the type of Christian teaching offered to Alaskan First Nations was two steps away from the gospel story proper.760 Cox goes on to note that what was needed was the form of contextualization advocated by Lesslie Newbigin.761 Newbigin believed that the West itself had failed to hear the ongoing ‘call to conversion’ because they no longer heard the gospel.762 Now, again, if Western theology must make a turn toward a theology that moves beyond propositional statements, which can deteriorate to the level of platitude, how much more important is it for Indigenous Christians to shift their theological reflection and praxis to the gospel story proper?

A second observation, which emphasizes comments made throughout this work, is that the Indigenous community in North America has been given a model of interaction with the gospel story that has not taken seriously the step of prefiguration described by Ricoeur. Indigenous people have encountered the gospel story when attempting to bring their categories, which include a particular understanding of land, and have been stymied in their attempt to move through the hermeneutical arc. The interaction between Indigenous communities and the Christian story could have resulted in an ongoing transformational theology based upon a communal appropriation of the gospel story proper. However, because of Western theologies and interpretive traditions, which have not had the same emphasis upon all relationships including land, results in Christianity that is primarily belief apart from Indigenous identity. Christianity, as encountered by Indigenous people in North America, has sought to interpret the gospel story and write theological truth-statements, which encapsulate the gospel story with zero remainder, resulting in a conception of Christianity that is primarily concerned with the soul, not the body or the land. A narrative approach to the gospel story and theology seeks to reach beyond, anticipating that there is something more to be understood in the story or unfolding story.

Ricoeur is one thinker who argues that when coming to the text, even though one makes theological statements, such statements do not capture the entire meaning of the story without remainder. This remainder will show up in an Indigenous theology; their theology does not reduce the gospel story to zero remainder, for it is governed by the ethics of Indigenous story,

759 James L. Cox, The Impact of Christian Missions on Indigenous Cultures: The Real People and the Unreal Gospel (Lewiston, NY: E. Mellen Press, 1991), 212. 760 Ibid., 214. 761 Ibid., 214–28. 762 Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks, 3.

214 which is open-ended and dynamic. However, as Indigenous community interacts with the gospel story, an Indigenous theology that takes steps toward harmonious relationships, but that is also in keeping with the canon of scripture, will be heard. Part of the starting-place for Indigenous interpretation and theology includes Indigenous categories of identity and narrative understanding, which will contribute to the ongoing development of Indigenous spirituality and Indigenous academic theology. Some debate the likelihood of the latter. James Treat writes that some Indigenous writers doubt that theology can be appropriated by a Cree person because thinking theologically is non-Indigenous and by default non-Cree.763 This work has been proving this prediction unfounded.

Summary

After the process of comparing Ricoeur’s descriptions of identity, metaphor, and mimesis with the Indigenous conception of story, several points can be made. First, Ricoeur’s description of how identity is tied to a body as a basic particular is helpful to an Indigenous understanding of identity connected to a created world. Our narrated identity and personal identity are indivisible from a body, which Ricoeur makes plain; the Cree would add a created world or land. Land, taken as a metaphor for Creation, does not lose its connection with actual land; being metaphor does not break it loose from reality, but it does place it within the context of a dialogue or narrative, or, one could say, within a story. Ricoeur adds academic vocabulary to describe how an individual within a community makes sense of their unfolding identity by observing how the language of the community shifts and interacts with new information and contexts. He does not lose connection with the ideas and words of said group as they use metaphor to make ‘sense’ of their context. In this way, Ricoeur makes space for Indigenous people using their stories in a new context. For example, Indigenous people, embracing the gospel story but interacting with their own stories and context, would intuitively come to some new understanding of their existence in the created world. For them, it is not only the individual’s unfolding identity that is at stake, but also the communal identity of a people. In this way, Ricoeur affirms Indigenous people individually, and Indigenous people affirm their and Ricoeur’s communal identity as embodied existence. Indigenous people affirm their own identity and the identity of the newcomer by making treaty—a treaty that is renewed annually, or in essence, retold on the land where it was first signed, which is an act of mimesis that brings to memory all that the treaty symbolizes. The

763 Treat, Native and Christian, 8.

215 land is intrinsic to the telling of the story, which functions as a metaphor or narrative for the developing identity of the two sharing space.

To make a slight excurse into a possible objection that this understanding of identity could lead to relativity, in the sense that there would be a revival of tribalism or nationalism or some other form of sectarianism, I would observe that extreme individualization has led to a loss of community and narrated identity, or in essence, to isolation. Our communal identity is our narrated identity; we must seek to make relationships with not only other individuals but also other communities. Metaphor is, as it were, the process by which understanding of language and the acquisition of new meaning, and perhaps of a renewed story that is shared, take place. This was, of course, George Lindbeck’s observation of a place where ecumenical desires could be met. The gospel story could be a starting-place from which groups could begin and then fan out in diverse interpretations, a kind of mutual “ecumenical sectarianism.”764 The First Nations would add that this occurs not by losing touch with one’s own communal identity but with always seeking to maintain and establish new relationships, pursuing an overall harmonious way of living with one another, including with other groups of people that occupy the same place or land.

Second, Ricoeur makes room for Indigenous people by re-establishing the necessity of story and metaphor in the hermeneutical spiral. His observation that metaphor helps to add to a body of knowledge by advancing the language of the group describes the process that an Indigenous community must work through when forming its theology. Ricoeur makes room for Indigenous people, and all other new groups or new understandings, by observing that it is not always possible to reduce the explanation of things to a noun or a sentence that has no remainder or other possible meaning. Thus, even though Ricoeur’s intent is not specifically theological, his writing can provide philosophical room for new theologies coming from other groups, which includes Indigenous people and, more specifically, Cree people. Ricoeur makes theology via story a human possibility, not merely something reserved for the West.

Indigenous people must translate the story from another culture into their own, and metaphorical use of language is the only way available. If one tries to circumvent the use of metaphor or story, then one runs the risk of engaging in a reductionist move of isolating the Indigenous community from the story by some statements which are said to contain the literal meaning of the story,

764 Lindbeck and Buckley, 101.

216 which seems to conclude with no remainder. The remainder of meaning possible, or the surplus of meaning in the story, is the grounds for collaboration between the language and thought of the Cree and the text. Moreover, this grounds for collaboration is the vehicle by which new or fresh understanding can come to the larger Church from the perspective of the Cree people, and for that matter from all Indigenous people.

The goal of this work is not to argue for the creation of an Indigenous theology that has no relevance or contact with the larger Church. To create a siloed Indigenous theology would recreate tendencies from the colonial past and would preclude the development of new cultures and communities. Rather, the goal of this work is to describe a place for an Indigenous theology that legitimates the value of a Cree perspective in theology that would benefit the whole. The process of interpretive theological reflection by Cree people is as sophisticated as that by any other people, and Paul Ricoeur’s description of how metaphor works in language helps make this point. Ricoeur and the First Peoples of Canada offer a way forward.

In short, Ricoeur helps us understand what happens in an Indigenous context: that an Indigenous communal approach to identity is formed in a dialogue between the community and the individual. Renewal or re-enactment of treaty acts as an exemplar of Indigenous story that affirms individual Indigenous identity but also points toward communal identity.

The concluding chapter of this thesis shall take the theological process of Indigenous people’s emphasis upon a communal narrated identity that includes land, and which strives toward harmonious relationship, and offer some comments comparing and contrasting an Indigenous theology with the theology of Wolfhart Pannenberg. Of course, it would be too daunting of a task to seek to cover all of Pannenberg’s theology in a single chapter. Rather, we will focus on his contribution to the idea of community and see how this compares with an Indigenous conception of community from a theological perspective. Pannenberg wants to see the primacy of community, yet he approaches this from the individualistic tradition of the West; perhaps Indigenous communal identity can help Pannenberg get where he desires to go.

CHAPTER 5

Native North Americans, Identity, and Pannenberg

Having engaged with the philosophical thought of Paul Ricoeur on identity and narrative, the next step is to flesh out some of the implications of the dialogue between Indigenous narrative identity—an identity that relies upon narrative and includes land—and Christian theology. To this end, this chapter will use aspects of the theology of Wolfhart Pannenberg as a grid to draw together how community is the goal of theology presented in chapter two, by sketching out the implication of including land or place in this community.

The reason for choosing Pannenberg is twofold. First, he transcends the boundaries of the evangelical camp. He himself is not in that camp, but he has had a significant influence upon evangelical writers such as Stanley Grenz. As a dialogue partner, he offers a reasonably broad potential audience. Second, and more importantly, his idea of concentric circles of identity is similar to my proposal of Indigenous identity pushing towards a harmony that is cosmic in scope but local in origin. Presently, the focus will be on two specific implications arising from this dialogue. If one begins from an Indigenous communal narrative position, including land in communal identity, two key implications for the development of a creation theology become apparent. First, it further removes the adversarial nature of the relationship between human culture and nature. The goal for humanity is not to dominate or overcome nature, but to see nature fulfilled. Second, an Indigenous reading of creation accentuates the importance of shared space or local space as part of embodied identity. Creation is the place of communion between the Creator and his creation. This elevates the sacredness of space, calling for greater respect for all of creation. Again, both emphasize, as Gunton desires, that ‘dominion’ means responsibility and , and not utilitarian domination.

An Indigenous contextualized Christian theology for North America helps theology move culture toward a holistic Christian spirituality and identity by taking into account the categories that have existed in North America since before recorded time. Lesslie Newbigin points out that when ones takes the gospel from one culture to another culture, the gospel must acknowledge, at least provisionally, the categories of the receptor culture.765 This acknowledgement also applies to

765Newbigin, Foolishness to the Greeks, 5. 217

218 theological method and content—and that point is made by Grenz. Theological method and content must conform to the categories and practices of a culture to facilitate theological praxis. In order to be at home in North America, the gospel in North America must embrace Indigenous communal identity that includes land. In the same way, Indigenous communal identity needs the gospel in order to find the fulfillment of the desire for harmony in Indigenous traditional spirituality.

So, then, a theology that will function for and apply to an Indigenous community must take the communal nature of identity seriously. If Indigenous communities interact with the gospel story or canon of scripture as an Indigenous story, it will result in a more holistic theology that functions to enhance or build upon the communal focus of Indigenous identity. The end goal is that this language of community that includes the gospel story filtered through an Indigenous communal ethic of story will arrive at an evangelical Indigenous Christian spirituality that flourishes and transforms—without damning and destroying, as has been the case in the not-so- distant past.

A more holistic theology such as this is also the goal of many in the evangelical community, who would agree with Pannenberg about the goal of ‘community.’ “Men seek community. This shows that the destiny of all men is the same. In one and the same community, many individuals seek fulfillment of their individual striving,” says Pannenberg.766 This “seeking community,” however, is an inadequate starting place for Indigenous theology. Indigenous people assume that community already exists. They assume that the Creator has already established relationships within creation and, as a result, works from a perspective of maintaining harmony now, not only in the distant future.

There is much to appreciate in Pannenberg’s description of the nature and timing of the ultimate human community. He rightly perceives that this community will be established ultimately at the end or fulfillment of history, when all will be one in unity. It is important to note that this unity will not lead to the loss of individuality or self. We are not absorbed into God, but there is a sharper focus between the reality of God and our reality as individuals. Pannenberg writes, “Man’s destiny as a creature that is open to the world aims at community with God, and, with that, simultaneously aims at the unity of human existence, at the unity of the self and reality.”767

766 Pannenberg, What is Man? 83. 767 Ibid., 82.

219 Pannenberg describes this push towards community in concentric circles. The quest for community begins with the individual and God who are restored to relationship through Christ. This relationship is also between the individual and other individuals to form a group. These groups, in turn, are in relationship to form communities, and these communities are in relationship to form nations, and nations must be in a relationship to form a “community of nations.”768 This desire for community as the theological telos of humanity is shared with Indigenous people in that Indigenous people also desire community or harmony in their relationships. However, Indigenous people have a much stronger sense that these already exist. These traditional relationships, established by the Creator between Indigenous North Americans (and, I suspect, many other Indigenous peoples around the globe), ought not to be lost or ignored. Rather, as Andrew Wesley, Ojibwa elder and Anglican minister, describes the goal of Indigenous Christian theology, we must keep telling the traditional creation story of the Indigenous people and the Christian story until they can be told together.769

This valuable overlap in ideas between Pannenberg and Indigenous people—a shared communal emphasis, and the emphasis upon relationship and the importance of harmony in those relationships—suggests that a dialogue between the two can be productive. It can contribute something important to a theological conversation with community as the goal of theology and spirituality. Moreover, Pannenberg’s description of the communal end of creation will, in the same way as Ricoeur, provide additional vocabulary for an ongoing Indigenous Christian theology. In turn, this vocabulary will add validity to an Indigenous Christian theology, which ought to inform a larger global theological conversation. Bear in mind that Indigenous voices will insist that the conversation about communal harmony includes land as a sacred partner in this harmonious community.

It is important to understand that this is an exchange or dialogue for mutual enrichment, not simply a move to seek credibility for a Cree theology. The nuanced distinctions between Pannenberg and a communal Cree theology are fertile ground for insights. For example, a communal Cree theology does not sacrifice the individual for the sake of the group, but does, at least in its description, remain relentlessly focused on the communal. It is not that Pannenberg fails to see the importance of the ‘Thou.’ He writes, “Only in others do we meet a life that in its

768 Ibid., 83. 769 Andrew Wesley, “Traditional Aboriginal Spirituality,” paper presented at the Consultation on First Nations Theological Education, Thornloe University, Sudbury, Ontario, May 21 2009.

220 feeling for life is permeated in some way by the infinite ground of the world and the associated promise of the totality of life that is common to each and to all.”770 He also observes that the “I and Thou” has been mired in “I and it,” and it must move to a true “I and thou.”771 But here we should note that Pannenberg, as a representative of the Western theological tradition, begins with the individual as the focus of his theology, albeit an individual in relation to other individuals forming larger groups. It is difficult then to see how this conception of identity as primarily individual can lead to a community that is more than the sum of its individuals. To use a phrase from Canadian sociologist Reginald Bibby, are we able to move beyond mere coexistence?772 On this point, an Indigenous conception of group identity will help Pannenberg get where he wants to go.

A key piece of this is the fact that Indigenous theology must include place or land as part of its narrated identity. It insists on a relationship with land or nature that is not adversarial. The goal then for humanity is not to overcome the limitations of the finite or to dominate nature, but rather to be part of creation as a positive force, aiming at its fulfillment. Unlike Pannenberg, who uses the individual as a starting point, a narrated Indigenous conception of identity would begin with the local group and its shared context, which as we know includes land. Again, including creation or land as part of identity, an identity that includes all relationships, locates the place of not only humanity’s working but also the Creator’s working. It elevates the sacredness of location. It is the interplay between creation, the local group, and other groups that have the potential to contribute to a developing harmony of all things, which is the goal of Christian theology and spirituality.

Communal Identity and Shared Context

Pannenberg points out in Anthropology in Theological Perspective that the modern West’s conception of identity has become more and more focused upon the individual and upon the human being as the subject of all experience.773 In a few paragraphs, he outlines the slow but steady movement from Augustine’s thought to the present focus upon the individual—for the

770 Wolfhart Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Vol. 2 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), 198. 771 Wolfhart Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster Press, 1985), 181. 772 Reginald Wayne Bibby, Mosaic Madness: The Poverty and Potential of Life in Canada (Toronto: Stoddart, 1990), 90. 773 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 11–12.

221 Christian, in individual salvation; and for secular society, for universal validity.774 In this description, he points out that in theology, there was also a turning away from the cosmos as a place to look for the affirmation of God’s existence.775 There was a shift in Western theology to focus upon the human experience as the place to seek universal principles for the ordering of life. Anthropology and psychology have focused completely upon the individual, and in doing so have become anthropocentric and secular at best, atheistic at worst.

This anthropocentric focus has implications for how Christians have treated creation. Stan McKay, Native North American and former moderator of the United Church of Canada, echoed the sentiments of the World Council of Churches that there is a need to affirm once more the integrity of Creation. He writes, “We maintain our [Indigenous] heritage and are motivated by a love of the earth, a concern for the survival of the creation. Our Earth Mother is in a time of pain, and she sustains many thoughtless children.”776 He goes on to note, “Christ came to save the world, but we make that statement anthropocentric in the Church, and for hundreds of years, our theology denied the integrity of creation.”777

Not only has anthropology historically been focused upon the individual, but it has also set nature and culture in opposition to one another. Kathryn Tanner proves helpful on this point, as she observes that anthropology made assumptions about the study of human beings and cultures, assumptions that postmodernity called into question.778 She points out that modern anthropology could be questioned at several points. One of these points, which is significant for this work, has to do with anthropology’s tendency to conceive of cultures as sharply bounded entities.779 Not only is each culture considered a unit, but Tanner also notes the division between nature and culture.780 Grenz concurs, stating that “modernity gave birth to the individual, who having been pried loose from creation, attempts to gain a sense of self through the construction of self. As a result, anthropology centers on the means for self-construction.”781 Tanner and Grenz would agree that it is in the shared context that identity is formed. An Indigenous conception of identity

774 Ibid., 11–16. 775 Ibid., 12. 776 McKay, “An Aboriginal Christian Perspective on the Integrity of Creation,” 53. 777 Ibid., 54. 778 Tanner, Theories of Culture, 38. 779 Ibid., 53. 780 Ibid., 48–49. 781 Grenz, The Social God and the Relational Self, 98.

222 not only affirms that identity includes other groups or cultures, but it specifically acknowledges that this shared context includes the place those groups occupy, embedding identity in creation.

Conceiving of nature and culture in oppositional terms is ubiquitous in Western thought. Nature is that which had to be overcome, and culture is the achievement of human beings. This division seems to be basic for the development of Western thought. Within this division, there was also the dichotomy between primitive and civilized, natural and cultured. Remember the example from early Christian mission among Canadian Indigenous people. The goal was “to cultivate the heath” and “convert the heathen, and vice versa.”782 The land and Indigenous people were seen as intrinsically related. These divisions of nature versus culture and primitive versus civilized have been critiqued and continue to be critiqued. There continues to be a need to move beyond the category of ‘primitive’ when it involves discussion of Indigenous theology and Indigenous identity. The concept of ‘pre-modern’ is a better term to use for the Indigenous concept of identity and theology. The focus of the Cree on a communal identity means that there needs to be a different starting-place for Indigenous theology. This different starting-place includes rethinking the gospel from a standpoint that takes into consideration communal identity, the gospel story proper, Cree ethics of story, and a connection with creation or land. This different starting-place is not a throwback to the ‘primitive,’ but it is certainly indebted to aspects of a pre- modern understanding. To borrow from Tanner, she observes that Christian identity is developed within a community, 783 and thus she affirms the communal nature of identity. The Cree conception of identity provides, in Pannenberg’s language, a “datum” for theological interpretation,784 and I would suggest that it also provides a perspective from which to enhance theological reflection.

The language chosen to describe the Cree concept of identity matters, and one of my hopes has been to show the value of the communal focus of Cree identity concerning the theological enterprise. However, when Indigenous people and their communal identity are labelled as “primitive,” it locks them in the past. It assumes that they are incapable of an ongoing contribution to theological discourse, except of course to contribute some referent from which to gauge the progress of an overly optimistic West. However, as ‘pre-modern’ and as such marked

782 Alvyn Austin and Jamie S. Scott quoting John West. Canadian Missionaries, Indigenous Peoples: Representing Religion at Home and Abroad, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005), 22. 783 Tanner, Theories of Culture, 57. 784 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 20.

223 as outside of Western modernity, Indigenous communal identity has a contribution to make toward communal identity. This shift is needed, because according to Pannenberg and many within evangelical theology, the age of individualism is dead.785 Pannenberg points out that there is a lack of an alternative model, except to give priority to society over the individual or vice versa,786 which is a point also made by Gunton.787 Pannenberg’s answer to the question of an alternative is to suggest a starting point of “I and thou,” rather than the individual in relationship to faceless society. He hopes that, in this way, he will overcome individualism by affirming that identity is always in the “I and thou” relationship. As he puts it,

It is possible to gain an understanding of the social constitution of individuals as such only if we do not relate them immediately to society as a whole as it encounters them in its institutions and their interrelationships, but rather relate them initially to another individual, the Thou or person(s) to whom they are related in the orbit of their personal lives. Then it becomes clear that individuals do not exist simply by themselves but are always constituted by their relation to the other, the Thou.788

Pannenberg echoes the other theological voices mentioned in chapter two, which all affirm the social nature of identity. It is the individual in relationship with other human beings and the Creator. Indigenous people would add that it is also necessary to understand that one of the primary relationships is to creation and the cosmos, and this relationship is also necessary for the formation of identity. Acknowledging creation as a relative also falls within the rubric of a shift from “I and it” to “I and thou.” Indigenous theology and Indigenous Christian theology attempt to locate theological reflection within the created order. Yazzie Burkhart points out that Indigenous philosophy is focused on experience as a fundamental element of philosophy, but it is not a philosophy that seeks to reduce the experience to proposition,789 which would again turn to .790 Rather, it would seek to live in good relationship with all things. From a First Nations perspective, our experience sets limitations on ‘us and we’ understanding and makes us aware that our perspective is not large enough to encapsulate the entire universe. However, neither is our perspective limited to a single solitary individual. For the Indigenous, the single solitary individual does not exist except in a concept of hell that sees an individual doomed to wander the earth, disembodied and cut off from all relatives and land. I would argue such a focus

785 Ibid., 179. 786 Ibid., 180. 787 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 6. 788 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 180. 789 Yazzie Burkhart, “What Coyote and Thales Can Teach Us,” 20. 790 McClendon, Biography as Theology, 14–26.

224 helps Pannenberg to accomplish his task of taking an anthropological datum and rendering it useful for theological interpretation and reflection in the hope of a renewed Christian anthropology.

This perspective eliminates the animosity between the categories of nature and culture. If adopted, Western theology could move beyond a utilitarian view of creation, which would be an “I and it” relationship, to an “I and thou” relationship that does not collapse into a neo-animism or neo-paganism. Rather, it would affirms that the categories of imago Dei and sin have implications for creation, though not necessarily in all the same ways as Western theology has conceived of them. The elimination of animosity between nature and culture is also in keeping with Pannenberg’s goal for his appropriation of anthropology, and particularly historical anthropology.

Pannenberg observes that humanity is alienated from creation, and that individuals are alienated from themselves. Psychology also affirms that humanity experiences alienation. This alienation is thought to be the result of something that limits people’s potential. In a sense, then, Pannenberg observes that this idea of alienation functions in a way similar to a doctrine of sin. At the same time, the reality of humanity found within the sciences has some theological validity because of our common Creator;791 this observation could be viewed from the position of imago Dei. In other words, psychology is a science; the role of science is to observe nature; nature is from the Creator; therefore, psychology can be appropriated by theology to learn from nature. An Indigenous theology, with its communal starting-point and with the gospel story as a first thing, would want to extend these ideas. In particular, it would want to extend these ideas regarding our alienation (sin) from creation and the ability to learn from creation (imago Dei) or land in order to understand our telos as human beings.

Indigenous people do not regard themselves as alienated from creation or others, except by choice, should someone chose to move away from their relationships. Indigenous people still assume that creation is good, and that sin is more of an issue of breaking present relationships, which is typically the result if someone is selfish. People may not be inclined to take others into account or get caught up in their schemes, as the stories of the trickster point out. However, it is always possible to move back toward relationship. This focus on restoring harmony flows out of an understanding that even though the relationship is strained, it is not completely severed. That

791 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 19.

225 the gospel adds to this quest makes sense, making Christ the fulfillment of the Indigenous ideal. However, it would be incorrect to assume that Indigenous people have the same inward angst about their relationship with the land and others that is suggested by Western conceptions of alienation. Indigenous people do not begin from a position of alienation. Rather, they begin with a perspective that sees the good creation and all of its harmony, and their identity flowing out of this reality, meaning people must care for creation and all relationships. The telling of the gospel, then, ought not to have assumed, as the residential schools did, that Indigenous people did not know God. The Creator is the Great Mystery. There is openness among Indigenous people to the fulfillment of all things brought by Christ, but that does not nullify previous relationships. It adds to them.

If one extends the Western idea of an embodied identity beyond one’s own body to include not only other people but also the environment or creation, then the idea of group consciousness grows to include not only significant individuals but also the actual place or location of human interactions. For the Cree, this is equated with the land. Land, as such, refers to the place where the Cree understand the Creator has placed people. The storytelling of the Cree people, the conception of Indigenous land title or ownership, and the nature of treaty all are aimed at affirming the relationships of the Cree to each other, to the other peoples who came to North America, and to the land, all of which flows out of the goodness of the Creator. This group identity also includes the generations who have come before, as well as the generations who will come after. These two are part of the communal identity that plays a part in living in a way that will lead to or preserve wholeness or soundness, or living in a good way on the earth. Thus, the land is not merely something on or in which one happens to find oneself and is thus incidental to Cree identity. Rather, the land is part of Cree identity.

This conception of group consciousness that includes not only significant people but also location will help to further Pannenberg and evangelical theology’s desire to show that people are intricately related to the earth and other creatures. Pannenberg and Western Christian theology need the Indigenous perspective. As before, even though Pannenberg is beginning to move away from a modern concept of individual autonomous identity, because he is using the language of modern anthropology, in the end, his analysis will always have an affinity to individualism and be subject to a return to the autonomous individual. In the same way, even though Pannenberg desires to move away from regarding creation merely as an object for human consumption and domination to a responsible dominion—a desire expressed by Gunton as

226 well—his work is hampered because it is mired in modern Western anthropological thought. Dominion needs to be envisioned as a responsibility to see creation come to fullness. The Cree communal identity is one view that provides an example of responsibility toward creation, which allows for the West to shift to understand dominion as responsibility. Thus, the Cree may be of assistance to further the theological aims of Pannenberg. In return, Pannenberg’s critique of Western individualism serves as a warning to Indigenous people who continue to write their contextual theology.

Pannenberg and the Cree form a helpful unity, with each adding something to a description that articulates the way identity with creation can occur. For example, like Ricoeur, Pannenberg focuses on the temporal nature of identity. Pannenberg understands that history is a description of a person’s identity and that it is incomplete until the end of time. Only when one reaches the end of time do all the events and actions come into focus and form a completed whole. Thus, for Pannenberg, time is of great significance regarding the formation of identity.792 This emphasis on the formation of identity in time is significant. The temporal aspect of identity is important. However, it would benefit from the Cree emphasis on the locative aspect of identity. In other words, the Cree would emphasize the importance of place. The subject and the group always occupy a place, and without place or land, there are obstacles to the formation of identity.

For example, Rose Auger, a Cree elder from the area near where my mother grew up, “suggests the first Europeans who landed in North America became disconnected from their homelands and were no longer ‘at one’ with their Creator when they left ancestral roots behind. They lost the most important part of themselves, their spirit connection.”793 The connection to spirit and ancestors has to do with place and time. Without the connection to place, Auger suggests, there is a loss of identity. The idea of one’s relation to the land plays a significant role in the development of identity, and thus would figure prominently in a Cree theology, and could prove helpful to Pannenberg’s theology of all things moving toward harmony and wholeness.

First, as already stated, the Cree would emphasize the importance of respect for the environment, and this emphasis and respect for the environment would further Pannenberg and Gunton’s desire to move from dominance over the material world to responsible stewardship. Pannenberg, for his part, offers a nuanced understanding of the significance of place for identity. He affirms

792 Ibid., 492–515. 793 Dianne Meili, Those Who Know: Profiles of Alberta's Native Elders (Edmonton, AB: NeWest Press, 1991), 23.

227 that we are part of the created order, and as such share in the providence of God that sustains all of creation. Pannenberg from the beginning affirms the wholeness of identity. In this wholeness, it is assumed that identity is formed as the interaction between the self and significant others and social institutions. However, when Pannenberg talks about the development of identity as influenced by both natural and social conditions, he sees natural conditions or objects as serving to point one beyond the finite to the infinite.794 Thus, Pannenberg moves to focus on the social and the natural. However, the natural, especially creation and non-human creatures, fades to the back or is strictly something to move past to the infinite. In other words, this social setting may or may not include the environment or land. Pannenberg does not preclude creation from a social setting, but neither does he emphasize the importance of land to help form the social setting, which in turn plays a significant part in the formation of identity and the ‘we consciousness.’ By not stating specifically that specific place is part of group identity, Pannenberg leaves the possibility that in moving past the finite, the finite might be forgotten. This is where modern Western Christianity finds itself. His description is accurate for the journey of Western Christianity, but it is inadequate for Indigenous communal identity.

His description of identity serves as a warning to the Cree and Indigenous people that seeking identity apart from a relationship with the land is a dead end. A common phrase I heard while serving in the pastorate was, “The land does not belong to us, but we belong to the land.” This statement, of course, emphasizes that identity for the Cree is based upon our being placed by the Creator on this land. Our stories tell of our relation to this land. Our spiritual ceremonies take place upon this land. Our memories of this place and land are a vital component of a holistic identity. The idea “we belong to the land” also serves to guard against the commodification of land for individual economic fulfillment. “We belong to the land” emphasizes the responsibility that is bestowed upon us as creatures placed in this good land. Our responsibility to all creatures, to our children and grandchildren, to the Creator, and to all others, is to live in a good way upon the land, maintaining the harmony that can be seen to exist in creation. Christian theology would affirm that this is the goal of theology: the reconciliation of all things. Indigenous Christian theology would add that this must be what is happing now.

This relationship or emphasis on the significance of land or creation in the formation of identity is not missing in Pannenberg's theology. He, like most of Western theology, would affirm that

794 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 71.

228 we are part of the order of creation. However, as with most Western thought, he continues to see creation as something over which people have dominion, and which serves on some level a utilitarian purpose for people. The Cree and other First Nations, with their emphasis upon the significance of our place being upon the earth, understand the importance of remaining in harmony with the land by affording it respect.

For example, when hunting game, it is a Cree understanding that people are no match for wild game in the forest. If animals do not want to be caught, they will not be caught. Thus, the idea or teaching is that an animal gives itself up to the hunter. In return, the hunter gives thanks to the animal for giving its life, so that his family may continue. By giving thanks, the hunter is maintaining harmony and ensuring good hunting for the future survival of the people.

Of course, the modern observer may rightly suggest that this personification of the animal may be unfounded. It is obvious, in other words, that the animal is not going to be able to acknowledge anyone talking to it, let alone giving thanks to it, and much of the above example could be dismissed as superstition or at least as folk religion or practice. That perhaps is a possibility, but the practice for the Cree is maintained to cultivate attitude and actions that acknowledge that the supplied the land or creation for our sustenance. Moreover, it must be treated with respect. Indigenous people, including the Cree, sought to respect the world and creation as being part of what the Creator has given to sustain life. Recalling earlier arguments, viewing Creation as sacred does not necessarily mean viewing it as divine. Rather, it is the place where communion between the Mantou and neheyon happens. Cree have no desire to destroy the transcendence or mystery of the Creator. However, the Great Mystery is only experienced in creation. Thus, the Cree would also acknowledge a doctrine of providence that affirms the ongoing work of the Creator to sustain his creation. However, they would also emphasize that this sustenance comes from a specific place and from specific creatures who give their life so that the Cree can live. The giving of life is sacred and ought to be honoured. The Cree would also emphasize the local nature of that creation. It is a creation that is specific and local. The land takes a name because of the way that it is experienced, much as the animals take names because of the sounds they make or some other identifying descriptors. Language is shaped by land, and so, too, human beings are shaped by their local context, which includes land.

229 Western society is coming to terms with the fact that human beings are related to all of creation. While lecturing on climate change, Bob Goudzwaard795 made a statement that when negotiating or trying to come to some consensus on a global level at climate change conferences, “The polar bears must be at the table.”796 For Indigenous people, the polar bears have always been at the table. Perhaps an Indigenous theology can help remind the Western world that not only bears but other nonhuman creatures are at the table and must be respected—for we in some way share with them the land. Indigenous people who embrace Christian faith ought not to lose their identity that includes a relationship with creation to focus only on individual salvation. That individualistic road, according to Goudzwaard and Pannenberg, leads to a utilitarian view of the earth, which has negative repercussions.

Pannenberg emphasizes an understanding of identity as being formed not only by the social institutions but also by at least one other person in the ‘I and Thou’ relationship. He also emphasizes that in the education or development of human beings, natural conditions and material objects play a role in developing an individual.797 These objects, though, point beyond themselves to make the human being aware of all objects, and of a cosmic horizon, and beyond it to the reality of God, the Creator.798 The Cree would agree with a cosmos and Creator, but would also retain the importance of the local setting, the land. So, the Cree would emphasize that identity is not only embodied in a particular body, which is mine and set within the cosmos, but that it is also set within a particular bounded geographic setting.

It is important to remember that a theology such as this, which envisions the sacredness of North America, is framed within a narrative approach to theology. Anthropology can only use the language of the individual and cannot discuss the group except in an impersonal way—Ricoeur’s faceless institution. According to Frei, anthropology reduces even Christology to mere form, and the person of Christ is lost, and so there is a need to return to the narrative of scripture.799 Within narrative identity, it is possible to tell the story of Native North Americans’ relationship with the land as well as their relationship to the newcomers and Christianity, attempting to live in

795 Goudzwaard, an economist, talks about the many issues facing humanity and possible directions to overcome these problems. See B. Goudzwaard, Mark Vander Vennen, and David Van Heemst, Hope in Troubled Times: A New Vision for Confronting Global Crises (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007). 796 Bob Goudzwaard, “What Does the Gospel Have to Do with Climate Change and Global Poverty,” paper presented at a public lecture, River Park Christian Reformed Church, Calgary, AB, October 20, 2007. 797 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 71. 798 Ibid., 72. 799 George Hunsinger, "Hans Frei as Theologian: The Quest for a Generous Orthodoxy," Modern Theology 8, no. 2 (Ap 1992): 106.

230 harmony upon the earth in this specific place called North America. As shown in chapter three, within Indigenous story the land and animals can be conceived of as having personhood. This is confirmed through the philosophy of Paul Ricoeur, that in narrative there exists greater space to creatively bring together characters that would not otherwise come together and then to point toward the desired future. In narrative, including the stories of scripture, the earth witnesses, trees clap their hands, and all creation rejoices. This does not mean that animals or material objects have personhood as Macmurray or Gunton conceive of such, that is, as a human person who can respond to another human person. However, for Indigenous people, their narratives emphasize the importance of using their personhood to treat nature with respect, as you would any other person. This anthropomorphism, Macmurray acknowledges, does not necessarily mean animism, but is a useful way to conceive of relationship with all things.800 Gunton points out that because of the loss of an anthropomorphic view of the universe, modernity has lost the sense of the personal and the “person and world are torn apart.”801 It is necessary to extend personal relationships to include creation, and this is possible through a narrative identity that includes relationship to specific place.

The Creation stories of scripture affirm the connection to place. Moreover, although not all may be able to accept the specificity of the Genesis creation stories, creation stories can be appropriated by all humanity.802 For a Christian Indigenous communal identity, the gospel story continues to emphasize the need to respect the land, for it is part of the larger family that sustains and maintains identity. At the same time, the adversarial division between nature and humans is removed. Indigenous people, along with newcomers to North America, continue to be responsible, not to dominate the world but to live harmoniously with all the created order.

Because it includes land, an Indigenous communal narrated identity shifts the focus from individual salvation or universal individual validation to one that is concerned with treating the earth in a good way, so that Indigenous people, along with newcomers and all creatures, can live long. No longer is creation just something to get past so that we can find fulfillment in God. Rather, in our relationship with creation, with others, and with the Creator, community is modelled as the goal toward which all things are moving. A new unity is possible by bringing together Western Christian theology, which critiques itself as being overly focused upon the

800 Macmurray, The Self as Agent: 116. 801 Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many, 15. 802 Sallie McFague, The Body of God: An Ecological Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 107.

231 individual, with a starting-point of communal narrated Indigenous identity. That narrative approach is critical, for within the narrative approach it is possible to tell the gospel story as well as Indigenous story so that the gospel can be located in North America as an example of contextual Christian theology that understands the sacredness of all land as the place that the Creator meets with his creation.

Land and Embodied Existence

Pannenberg’s description of the shift to individual salvation also notes the shift away from the cosmos as a place to discover affirmation of God’s existence. By implication, this means that the West has ceased to view the cosmos as sacred. Implicit within the shift from the cosmos as a direction for theological interpretation and toward the individual, not only is the individual isolated from her fellow human being, but also from her fellow creatures as well as from the land where she sets her feet. Jacque Ellul, for example, points out that, until the Christian era, nature was sacred, but then it was desacralized and the Church became sacred.803 In turn, in the Reformation there occurred a de-sacralization of the church and scripture became sacred. In modernity, science became sacred and scripture became suspect. For Ellul, then, modernity elevates technique, and thus elevates science to the level of the sacred. My only point in mentioning Ellul is to affirm Pannenberg’s observation that there was indeed a shift away from seeing the cosmos as God’s creation toward seeing nature from the perspective of the experiencing subject.

Pannenberg also points out that, in the sixteenth century, anthropology was part of metaphysical psychology, which studied not only humans but also God, angels, and the soul of animals.804 Pannenberg then observes that anthropology became more and more focused on human psychology, and from the whole cosmos to the human being alone. With the shift in psychology that no longer regarded human beings as part of a sacred universe and thus sacred themselves, humans came to be regarded as religious beings distinct from nature and the natural world.805 Pannenberg, of course, is concerned with critically appropriating anthropological language and findings—not to make the gospel relevant to anthropologists, but to show the “theological

803 Jacques Ellul, The New Demons (New York: Seabury Press, 1975), 58. 804Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 17. 805 Kidwell, Noley, and Tinker, A Native American Theology, 86.

232 relevant dimension.”806 He is keen to point out that even in secular anthropology, there remains a desire to push toward a desired future of harmony among all things.

Again, Pannenberg’s answer to overcoming the age of isolated individualism is to continue to move toward an ‘I and thou’ relationship.807 This kind of relationship acknowledges the significance of the other individual and is a better starting place than thinking of the person in relation to the significant institutions in their life. Pannenberg wants to shift away from considering the institutional human toward the personal relationship model to avoid the fatal flaw of Rousseau, Marx, or Hegel, who see the group erasing individual freedom; Gunton and Macmurray also are concerned that individual freedom be preserved from totalitarian . Pannenberg’s solution is to order the relationships involved in identity and thus to preserve the freedom of individuals to be themselves.808 Pannenberg borrows from anthropology and psychology to conclude that the first level of relationship remains the individual in relation to their self through their ego, but acknowledging that the ego is conditioned by its relationship to other significant relationships. In essence, what others think of me shapes how I view my identity. For Pannenberg, the relationship that I have to myself and to significant others forms the basic level of identity development. Pannenberg does not lose the social, institutional nature of identity, but places it in a second-order, or even further out on his model of concentric circles of relationship. He draws the focus of identity formation to the relationship of the individual to the significant others in their circle, and from the personal circle to the larger group, and the group to community, the community to society, and so on, until there is a global kind of harmonious relationship. As he writes, “In the normal case, persons are immediately related not to their selves but to other persons and through these to the group, to which in turn they are bound in a “we-consciousness.”809

Pannenberg points out, however, that the person remains herself, over against the Thou and the group. This conception of identity is similar to McFadyen’s identity formed in a dialogue with others but also in dialectic with others. The ability to differentiate between one’s self and the group remains fundamental for Pannenberg. It is how he overcomes the loss of identity and freedom potentially imposed by society.810 The ability to transcend one’s social situations

806Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 17–20. 807 Ibid., 180. 808 Ibid., 240. 809 Ibid. 810 Ibid., 264–65.

233 Pannenberg attributes to one’s faith or trust in God, which enables one to attain one’s eternal destiny, which is community with other human beings.811 The ability to reach beyond the social institution to an eternal destiny “need not be simply an egoistic rebellion of the part against the whole. It can also be the expression of a call to more perfect fulfillment of the human destination to community.”812 Pannenberg identifies love as the key to ensuring that the individual does not become egotistical and self-centred while at the same time retaining their sense of calling to pursue their divine destiny.813 This ability to pursue one’s divine destiny is, for Pannenberg, the basis for the dignity of a human being.814

The Cree might conclude that this description of the relationship of the individual to the group is helpful. However, there remains a propensity for the West to begin with the basic assumption of the individual as either the beginning or the goal. While the Cree and Indigenous people, on the other hand, acknowledge that individuals are to be respected, they begin with the group, and their end is to grow into the harmony that all creation displays. The idea of ‘divine destiny,’ something that enables one to transcend the group, is understood by the Cree as a version of individualism that trumps the group. Does this not quickly devolve again into a possible utilitarianism and thus into an ‘I and it’ relationship once more? Also, Indigenous people would point out that the place where individual-in-the-group identity is developed must be named and respected as well. Furthermore, Indigenous people begin with the assumption that the divine destiny is already part of created identity. It is something that needs to be maintained, not just located in the age to come. This is a sacred trust or responsibility that Indigenous people embrace.

Does Pannenberg’s conception of identity go far enough in seeing the locative nature of identity? It is clear from Pannenberg’s appropriation of anthropology that he is thorough in his attempt to describe the relationship between individuals and society for identity formation. Also, it seems clear that Pannenberg is at least allowing that his idea of the individual—individual and significant others; and individual, significant others, and community—implies the possibility of shared space. However, if we were to add one more element to Pannenberg’s conception of identity, namely land, would that not help to further extend the desire to more firmly place community as the goal of creation? However, Pannenberg and the West are hesitant to embrace a

811 Ibid., 241. 812 Ibid. 813 Ibid., 264–65. 814 Ibid., 241.

234 communal identity that includes land because of the materialistic approaches of the past, which they assume will lead to the eradication of the individual.

By way of example, let me raise another observation from Pannenberg’s critical appropriation of the anthropological datum. He points out the preoccupation of the West with individual salvation, at least since Augustine. He also speaks of the slow, steady movement of this focus on the individual, through the Reformation and Pietistic tradition, until religion and faith become private interior matters. At the same time, anthropology moves from the realm of metaphysics to a primary focus on the individual experiencing subject. Pannenberg, recognizing the shift in language from that of theology to anthropology, then theologically shifts to appropriate the datum of anthropology, a perspective that reveals the theological significance of this datum concerning the doctrine of sin and imago Dei. However, I would suggest that this still functions on the level of description of ‘individual salvation.’ What of a people who think about the salvation of the group? The Cree are such a people. Their focus is communal, and as such, they think in terms of the salvation or preservation of the group, including all that live upon the land. By extending imago Dei to include the relationship not only to other human beings but to the environment as well, the focus becomes not only upon the eternal destiny but also upon the present process of living in harmony. Thus, Pannenberg’s thought could be extended with this category or goal, a goal that I believe Pannenberg would affirm. However, tied to a discipline long focused upon the individual, it needs help to move beyond its category of the autonomous individual. Thus, a Cree Christian theology would attempt to extend soteriology to think harder and deeper about the salvation of the group. Given the boundaries of this thesis, my desire at this point is merely to point out the possibility of extending Pannenberg’s (and, more generally, Western theology’s) conception of sin and salvation to move beyond that of the individual so that the conception includes not only include a group, but begins with the group which includes land—although not necessarily the whole universe. It does not preclude the universe; it merely moves the focus from only universal to local and universal. I believe this is an important Cree contribution.

If Indigenous North Americans establish the primacy of the group regarding the ongoing development of identity by placing the group as the starting-place for identity, is there a danger of losing the individual? The fear of the loss of the individual is present in Western thought, and Pannenberg acknowledges it, noting that the solutions to individualism seem to amount to the

235 individual’s losing all freedom, as in Marxism or some other nationalistic ideology.815 I would argue that while the Cree do have the group front and centre in their understanding of identity, they do not lose the individual. For example, in the ethics or craft of storytelling, the storyteller (whether a group or an individual) does not lose their creativity in terms of how the story is told. At the same time, the story remains the property of the group, and it cannot be changed beyond the acceptable limits established by the group. In Ricoeur’s description of how metaphor and narrative function to solidify the identity of the group, a group understanding is used to ground one part of the metaphor in a communal understanding, but this does not make the adaptation of metaphor or story impossible. A new context may require a shift in language, and this is the prerogative and responsibility of storytellers. At the same time, it is founded in the group understanding.

There is other evidence that underscores the fact that the Cree had and still have a deep commitment to communal identity. At the same time, they have a deep respect for the sovereignty of the individual—even if the sovereignty of or respect for the individual could better be understood as the group’s seeing the individual as an extension of itself.816 Rupert Ross observed in his years as a legal worker in Northern Canada that there existed among the First Nations an ethic of non-interference.817 In essence, no person had the right to tell another person what to do. Thus, coercion, , and manipulation are undesirable. Functional forms of leadership still exist where an individual is acknowledged as the leader in a particular situation. However, even when the Cree are involved in that situation, when such a leader might suggest courses of action, at all times, personal involvement in the activity is voluntary. At any time, people have the right to opt out of or into the activity. The individual is afforded this level of respect because they are considered an extension of the group.

This idea of respect for the other is extended to animals, plants, and land. The earth continues to supply the material needs of humans, but this role is acknowledged, and the land and animals, their future and well-being, are the concern of Christian religion, not just the individual soul. Also, for Indigenous people, the respect for creation and creatures means an appropriate protocol must be in place so that the good of all of creation is taken into account. Because the survival of our grandchildren is dependent upon creation, the question of the survival of the planet becomes

815 Ibid., 180. 816 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree: 56. 817 Ross, Dancing with a Ghost, 12–27.

236 part of theological discussion. The question of what is needed to ensure future generations becomes part of the planning process. The preservation of harmony between all things is thus a sacred trust. When all things are working together, as they were meant to be, the future is preserved for those yet to come.

This harmony or working together is exemplified by the Indigenous understanding of collaboration between those who are different. This idea of collaboration is comparable to the idea of individual differentiation, except that it extends to group differentiation, which guards the loss of group and individual identity. As Sophie McCall points out, cultural difference is an opportunity for collaboration.818

In a recent conversation about theological education, Anglican bishop Mark McDonald pointed out how the Indigenous conception of collaboration at the edges or borders of community could contribute positively to international issues.819 Take, for example, the recent phenomenon of a multitude of nations claiming parts of the Arctic as their national territory. The Western nationalistic tendency, as Ricoeur points out in one essay on , can be an obstacle to coming together as people because of the tendency to make the imaginary boundaries of nation- states thicker, higher, and better defined in the name of security. An Indigenous conception of group identity urges that the presence of a multitude of groups in a specific territory is cause for collaboration, for making treaty and relationship, not only between individuals but also between groups. Pannenberg expresses this as a desire for individuals, but his observation about differentiation could also apply to groups, could it not? Alternatively, is the group identity a dispensable element, important only for the advancement of the individual? Can an Indigenous conception of group identity offer something other than a collapse into utilitarianisms, absent of respect or love?

The sacred assembly initiative by Elijah Harper is an example of taking group identity seriously within the land referred to as Canada as well as taking seriously the sacred trust to live in a good way upon the earth. The Sacred Assembly, which took place in Hull, Quebec, in 1995, had as its stated purpose to seek a spiritual solution to the problems of enmity between peoples in Canada. Three thousand people from English, French, Métis, First Nations, Inuit, and other backgrounds came together to take responsibility for the bad relationships that existed in the land. Elijah

818 McCall, “‘What the Map Cuts Up, the Story Cuts Across,’” 324. 819 Mark McDonald, personal conversation, May 20–23, 2009.

237 Harper believed that the First Peoples, as inhabitants of the land, and as the original inhabitants, were responsible for what happened in the land. A benefit of Indigenous group identity is that it shows respect for the land and respect for other peoples. The spiritual solution involves individual relationships, group relationships, relationship to the Creator, and relationship to the land. A spiritual solution was sought that would help all the people who lived in Canada move toward one another, acknowledging the pain of the past, and seeking a way forward. Pannenberg seeks a solution to the problem of the individual versus society. Part of the solution is applying his idea of individual differentiation to group differentiation. It does not necessarily devolve into nation against nations, but it must, as in the relationship of an individual to society, be based on respect or love. Also, it must take place in a specific place.

I have proposed that North American Indigenous peoples have a communal focus with regards to the starting-place for identity. Earlier it was noted that Durkheim observed this tendency to have a strong interconnection between individuals within a society of people possessing what he called “primitive religion.”820 Durkheim thinks that the collective is so important that the individual loses his or her personality.821 This echoes Pannenberg and other evangelical theologians’ fear of losing individual identity. It certainly must be acknowledged that Indigenous North Americans place a greater emphasis on the group than Western liberal society does. This point is well illustrated by the fact that the Supreme Court of Canada concluded that Indigenous people in Canada, because of their different view of the group, took a different approach to ownership of land. They saw group ownership as preferable to private ownership.822 The Supreme Court of Canada is willing to acknowledge that, at least as far as land is concerned, Indigenous people have a communal focus rather than private individual focus. It is not that Indigenous people are opposed to owning land, but that they understand that the land does not belong to anyone to the exclusion of all others. In this way, no one is alienated from the land. It is a communal focus that does not lose respect for the individual.

Pannenberg is pushing toward a goal of harmony for creation. He may not use the word harmony, but he sees a steady movement of individuals toward proper relationships with God and his creation or at least his creatures. Does Pannenberg succeed in overcoming the ‘I and it’ relationship in favour of the ‘I and Thou’ relationship? Is his understanding of identity able to

820 Emile Durkheim and Marcel Mauss, Primitive Classification, trans. Rodney Needham (University of Chicago Press, 1963), 6. 821 Ibid. 822 McNeil, “Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90's,” 10.

238 overcome the individualistic tendencies of modern liberal thought? In essence, does Pannenberg not end up with a modified version of the individual that he is trying to tie more closely to the group? At one point he does acknowledge that a perennial problem for the ‘I and Thou’ relationship is that it remains an ‘I and it’ relationship and the ‘Thou’ in actuality is subsumed into the ‘I.’ Pannenberg does make strides in defining the relationship of the individual to the group by injecting the presence of others who are also related to the group, and so creating an individual better connected to the group and beyond. However, is this enough?

An indigenous narrated identity that includes elders, grandchildren, land, and others is an affirmation of the individual and the group. Could this not help Pannenberg to develop more fully the idea of an identity that is still developing? Does not the inclusion of the category of narrative help to move the discussion beyond anthropology?

To return to the first point, that Pannenberg takes steps to enlarge the conception of identity development beyond that of individual identity, Pannenberg is attempting to locate firmly the group as fundamental in identity formation. In doing so, is he able to overcome the institutional inertia of the West, which continues to advocate a radical individualism? Pannenberg himself acknowledges the difficulty of overcoming this intense individualism. Certainly, one could take his remarks on ‘churchless Christianity’ as pointing to a malady of the modern era.823 People claim to be Christian yet are not in relationship with a specific church. Wanting to flee the sectarian nature of denominationalism, many feel driven to an individualistic faith.824 Pannenberg, describing anthropology in theological perspective, is striving to show the necessity of the group, in a descriptive sense, showing from the social sciences that society is fundamental to identity formation. He is attempting to heighten the significance of society for the formation of identity, and in this sense his work is prescriptive—or at least his writing could function in this manner. Yet this anthropological description of identity formation, coming from a highly individualized West, runs the risk of re-inscribing the individual as the starting-place out of which the group develops. In other words, in Western thought, does the primacy of the individual preclude our being able to elevate the significance of the group beyond a utilitarian position? In this scenario, the group helps me achieve my success as an individual—an isolated, autonomous individual. If this is the agenda, then it would be difficult to conceive of how a communal

823 Wolfhart Pannenberg, The Church (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983), 10. 824 Ibid., 17.

239 theology might lead to a more robust ecclesiology that takes the significance of the group and the individual seriously.

What I am suggesting is that an Indigenous conception of identity goes a step further than Pannenberg in the placement of the individual in relation to the group. From a Cree theological standpoint, I want Pannenberg to go further than to include significant people in the formation of identity, and to include the group and land as fundamental to one’s eternal destiny. I want him to go further than merely saying that, in some eschatological sense, there will be a coming together of groups, and cities, and nations. Pannenberg, by his emphasis on the revelation of God in history, although pointing to history as evidence of a gradual coming together of humanity, still sees harmony as something that exists in the distant future. The Cree sense of the existing presence of this harmony could create a hope that this harmony is in reach in our present history rather than being merely a deferred hope in an indefinite future.

One thing that is not clear in Western theology, along with Pannenberg’s writing, is whether the group has an eternal destiny, or whether this applies only to individuals. If the group does have an eternal destiny, what is it, and at what level? Is the church the only group identity retained at the eschaton? Do tribes and tongues, notable in John’s vision in Revelation 7, refer only to an occasional incident on the way to something more uniform? These are pressing questions that extend beyond my concern to point out that the group identity of Cree people raises questions for theology.

Pannenberg wants to elevate the significance of the other. For example, as Pannenberg points out, it is necessary when thinking of identity formation to include more categories of relationship than just the individual and society. There are some mediating relationships between the individual and society. His identification of the significant persons who help the individual to be in relationship to the group, and of the group that then helps the individual or mediates the relationship to society, is helpful. It would still be possible to read this as reducing community to the total of individuals. At the center of Pannenberg’s concentric circles of relationship, one finds the individual. Pannenberg attempts to locate at least one other person, but it is unclear whether there is then a group of at least two at the centre of Pannenberg’s system, or if the individual remains autonomous. Pannenberg remains hobbled by the language of Western anthropology and must continually give the individual his or her due.

240 For example, Pannenberg affirms that one of the desired outcomes of identity formation is the eventual independence of the individual from family and friends, so that they may move to maturity. Pannenberg suggests that the individual moves from the basic trust provided by one’s mother to religious faith in God, which provides the basic trust or security and which allows one to move forward into “situations of suffering, distress, and worldly insecurity.”825 This independence is seen to culminate, though, not in narcissism but in interdependence. At least this is Pannenberg’s hope, though he acknowledges that failure is a possibility. Pannenberg’s work is premised by the reality of the end of the age of individualism. Independence has tended to lead to narcissism, and Pannenberg attempts to locate the wholeness and health of the individual within a symbiotic relationship with the other, beginning with one’s mother and ending with one’s relationship with God. However, again, this seems to be primarily focused upon the development of the individual having achieved self-consciousness in contrast to the group. Affirming Pannenberg’s observation that history can comment upon reality in a significant way, I would generally observe that the West, as the result of its seeking independence, has lapsed into narcissism.

An Indigenous perspective on identity formation acknowledges that the individual’s identity is formed in relation to the group. At the same time, Indigenous communal theology begins with the assumption that, at times, the individual must break from the group. However, this is a sanctioned break, seeking independence with the goal of coming back into relationship with the group and larger society.

For example, my understanding of the vision-quest of the Plains Cree involves a young adult going into the countryside to be alone. Where they fast and pray and seek a vision, this vision is to be the direction for their life in the community and in relation to other groups outside of their tribe. When the individual returns from the vision-quest, he tells an elder what has happened, or what his vision involved. The elder interprets the vision for the young adult. What is significant is the role of the group even when the young adult is seeking some kind of ‘independence.’ The Cree value dependence rather than independence. The importance of elders among Cree people evinces this reality. The elder helps the individual to become a ‘true human being’—one that understands that the individual, as they develop as a human being, would become aware of their freedom and use their freedom for the good of the group. They would become interdependent

825 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 227.

241 with the group and the world, and this is preferable to independence. This change in language also seems to capture Pannenberg’s desired outcome, to affirm the individual in a symbiotic relationship with others. Hence the question: Does Pannenberg’s appropriation of the language of anthropology to offer a theology of identity need help to reach its goal? I suggest that the Cree conception of identity, with its focus on the group as always a part of one’s identity, could help Pannenberg’s cause and is essential for an Indigenous Christian theology.

The performative nature of Indigenous narrative also reveals the interdependence of the individual and the group. Take, for example, the ritual dances of the Cree. Dance for the Cree is like prayer, and no one dances only for himself or herself; they dance for their people. While I was serving as a minister in Saskatchewan, it was explained to me that when people took part in the sundance,826 they were performing different parts of the sundance for their people. The sundance is long and involves some arduous physical activities, but all the time, it is understood that the dancer is allowing himself or herself to suffer for their people. The Cree see the individual as worthy of respect because they represent the group; theirs is an individuality that does not lose the focus on the group. It is not a freedom that is grasped by being in opposition to the group; rather, it is individual freedom that flows out of the group. Thus, the group does not destroy individual identity; it is what makes identity possible for the individual. Group and individual identity are not in conflict. Rather, they enhance one another. An example of proper relatedness that fulfills Pannenberg’s desire for identity would not be based on the rights and privileges of liberal society but on an understanding of community that places primacy on the group while ensuring the freedom of the individual.827

At the same time, there is a difference in this conception of community, for Pannenberg still assumes a primacy of the individual who can opt out of the community if he or she sees fit.828 However, the Cree with their conception of the group would affirm the opting out as necessary and even encourage it, for the sake of the larger group. Cree communal understanding adds to Pannenberg’s conception of how the group functions in a non-adversarial manner.829 In this way as well it can be said that, for the Cree, the individual always has the community in mind as the goal, again affirming Pannenberg’s understanding of the eternal destiny of human beings: to be

826 The sundance is one of several kinds of ceremonial dances held on annually among the Plains Cree near Regina, Saskatchewan. 827 Pannenberg, What is Man? 88. 828 Ibid. 829 Pannenberg, Anthropology in Theological Perspective, 242.

242 in a relationship with one another. However, it also adds the relationship with creation as well. In this way, the Cree would extend Pannenberg’s understanding of community beyond that of an association of individuals.830

Pannenberg, as a representation of Western theology, and Indigenous communal identity, because they are both seeking to emphasize harmony, together form a tension or collaboration in which the individual nature and the group nature of identity can both be affirmed. The presence of diverse groups in shared space is the opportunity for such collaboration. However, it is necessary that both perspectives be maintained. When the institution or group becomes, to use Ricoeur’s term, faceless, the group becomes utilitarian, and the focus shifts once more to the exaltation of the individual.

Pannenberg, theologically discussing the findings of anthropology, identifies the tension or differentiation that the individual experiences between himself or herself and the social settings, which is fundamental to developing identity. The idea of differentiation is also important when considering the locative nature of communal identity. When considering land in making treaty and defining territory, the Cree differentiated between themselves and other groups. They were Cree, and part of this identity is that they were not the newcomers. The newcomers were to be respected and treated as brothers, in a nation-to-nation relationship. This group identity was not necessarily an obstacle to harmonious relationship. The respect of land meant that, for all the groups of people to flourish, at the edges of each community there was a possibility for collaboration.

In the treaty relationship within Canada, which I have argued is an attempt at a communal narrative, all peoples who live in Canada share the land. The treaty, then, was in part an agreement to share space with those who came from other lands. They sought a new life and, needing land, entered into treaty with the Cree. The Cree made a treaty with the Crown, and that treaty was witnessed by the Creator, and all parties were to live in harmony with each other. Indigenous people made treaty in an attempt to retain an identity that was in relation to the land. In other words, they wanted to preserve their right to live off of the land or at least to see the relationship to land as fundamental to being a people. This relationship to land is significant for all Indigenous people, even those who no longer live on traditional lands or reserves.831 Land

830 Pannenberg, What is Man? 83. 831 Chris Anderson and Claude Denis, “Urban Natives and the Nation: Before and After the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples,” Canadian Review of Sociology & Anthropology 40, no. 4 (2003): 386.

243 remains significant for identity. To be cut off from the land threatens identity. Thus, an Indigenous Christian theology or anthropology needs to take into account the relation of identity and actual place.

Finally, the significance of land for Indigenous people and the shaping of their identity is also tied to the stories of Indigenous people. In the narrative of Indigenous people, the land always plays a significant role. For example, in the Gitxsan and their land claims case with the Canadian government, the land played a prominent role in their songs and stories that record their interaction with the land. Thus, the land and the stories of the relationship with the land contain the wisdom of the people. The land—showing again in part the locative nature of identity, thus shapes the language and the group identity of Indigenous people. Indigenous Christian identity needs not to sever the connection with the land but to retain respect toward creation as being good. It is not something to be surpassed or dominated, but rather the place where sacred identity is developed and maintained.

Identity is also shaped by the non-human creatures who share the land with humanity. The stories of Indigenous people, including the Cree, feature the personifications of animals who in different ways are fundamental to the survival of the people. Take, for instance, the story of the bear giving her life so that humans could live.832 This story reveals the deep respect that the Cree have for the creatures with which they share the land. As well, it reveals much about the spiritual nature of First Nations, and it has implications for the ongoing development of not just an Indigenous theology but also a restoration of the idea of respect for the environment in the West. It expresses more than a mere longing for future harmony with nature; it affirms the need to live in harmony in the present.

Those who attempted to bring the gospel to North America ought not to have assumed that its people had no knowledge about God. Indigenous people assumed that the Great Mystery had provided a good creation that displayed harmonious relationships, and that the task of human beings was to live in a good way upon the earth. The gospel of Jesus Christ was and is still necessary, and salvation is important. However, because the starting-place for Indigenous identity is communal identity, the gospel must be told in a way that affirms a fulfillment of the

832 Waugh, Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree, 38–45.

244 relationships that already exist in creation. The land is our teacher, and in its fulfillment, the sacredness of the land is highlighted as the place where harmonious community exists.

Summary

Pannenberg proves to be a meaningful dialogue partner for the discussion of possible implications for Indigenous theology that takes seriously as a starting-point the gospel story proper, the oral traditions of Cree culture, and the communal focus of Cree culture. In this chapter, I have focused primarily on the Cree communal focus of narrative identity that includes land. The Cree, like Pannenberg, have the desired outcome of harmony or a good relationship between all participants in creation as well as the Creator God. However, unlike Pannenberg and the West, the Cree begin with communal identity as the starting-point.

Pannenberg, as a representative of Western theology, brings much to the conversation, having thought through the theological implications of the findings of anthropology. In this, he rightly observes that there is much work that needs to be done to enable movement beyond the modern age of individualism, without lapsing into some kind of ideology or movement that sacrifices the individual for the sake of the group. His observations from psychology—which trace this interplay between the interior of the individual and the exterior world made up of others and the material world in order to show the tension in which identity develops—present cogent and significant arguments about the essential nature of the ‘other’ for identity. His emphasis that the other must not remain an ‘it’ but must become a legitimate ‘thou’ is a significant contribution to theology. As well, his emphasis on the nature of our eternal destiny—to be in harmony with others, with creation, and with the Creator God—is significant. However, he assumes that all are moving from the same point of alienation, which may be true on a universal perspective, but is not necessarily so on the local level.

As such, Pannenberg forms a useful dialogue partner for an Indigenous theology for two reasons. First, there is a shared goal or vision for the destiny of humankind. A comparison of perceptions between Pannenberg and the Cree will at one moment affirm the Cree for their theological prowess in identifying the significance of the other for the formation of identity and for the development of a theology of identity. At the same time, such a comparison reveals areas where a Cree theology could extend the larger enterprise of theology or point theology in the direction of some necessary further reflection.

245 Second, because the Cree would always have the group as well as the individual as their focus, they help Pannenberg by describing or focusing upon the nature of harmony in local contexts. The locative or local nature of Cree communal identity adds something to the temporal and universal nature of Pannenberg’s theological anthropology. In particular, the Cree push Pannenberg and western theology not only to move beyond the utilitarian understandings of other people but also to emphasize the significance that land plays in identity. The eternal destiny must begin in the present local context, otherwise theology will quickly lapse (back) into discussion about the greater good used to legitimate the abuse of people as well as creation.

I have argued in this chapter that the communal focus of Indigenous identity helps Pannenberg move beyond modern Western individualism in three ways. First, the communal focus or understanding of identity of the Cree reveals an understanding of the complexity of identity that illustrates once more the inadequacy of the categories of primitive versus civilized— and, on a larger scale, nature versus culture. Chapter two of this thesis explained how Indigenous identity, because it ties identity to a place, makes respecting all creatures of the land a necessity because without land or the connection to land identity suffers. The goal is to see the fulfillment of creation.

Second, by always having the group as the focus, the Cree help Pannenberg in his attempt to critique the individualism of the modern era. Pannenberg points out the need to acknowledge the significance of significant others in the development of individual identity, which will lead to a better appreciation of the significance of the group. Also, this is ultimately aimed at leading to the eternal destiny of human beings in harmony with God, with each other, and with creation. Indigenous communal narrative identity can help Pannenberg to move beyond the individualistic language of anthropology. Indigenous narrative and the narrative turn are a large enough space in which to reflect not only on individual salvation but also on how ‘we’ are redeemed. The Indigenous approach that begins with group can fit within the gospel story proper if the gospel is seen as fulfilling Indigenous communal identity. This one example helps to further the theological discussion of the communal nature of soteriology.

Finally, Pannenberg’s conception of eschatology helps to point toward a future in which people are in harmony not only with God and with other people but also with creation. However, he discusses but little how vital this relation is to identity in the now-but-not-yet. Pannenberg’s emphasis on the eschatological nature of this harmony and identity is significant. He, however,

246 focuses primarily on the temporal nature of identity, and thus could be read as coming close to the utopian ideal of the resolution of dislocation in the future, which could be used as an opiate to placate people into not acting to live in a harmonious relationship with creation now. The Cree communal focus on identity, which includes a narrated relationship with land, helps to point out further possible directions for theology that are universal but also local. The Cree give an account for identity that accounts for change over time, but that also affirms our location within creation, which is significant for the ecological crisis we face.

Conclusion and Future Direction

In this thesis, I have explored the intersection between Indigenous narrative communal identity and Christian theology. I have demonstrated that an alternative starting-place for an Indigenous theology begins with Indigenous communal identity, which is based on a particular understanding of identity: one that is communal, grounded in narrative, and that includes a strong sense of solidarity with the land. Indigenous identity is narrative-based, shaped by a shared story that brings the changing context of Indigenous existence in Canada together with the goal of maintaining harmony in the land.

This has profound implications for how this people theologize. For one, Indigenous communal identity elevates the role of narrative and land; therefore, a narrative approach to scripture is elevated over the approaches taken by the first evangelical theologies introduced among Indigenous people in Canada. This narrative approach extends scholarship on embodied existence. This thesis focused initially on historical dialogue partners in Canada, particularly the propositional approach of Carl Henry, which was adopted by the evangelical Christian mission in Canada. I demonstrated why Carl Henry is a suitable archetype of the kind of evangelicalism introduced to the First Peoples in Canada by offering an overview of the broad range of evangelicalism. The starting-place chosen for conservative evangelicals like Carl Henry and his heirs concerns itself with doctrinal purity b articulating and defending eternal truths in the form of propositional statements—a starting-place that ends up replacing the gospel story and that forms a kind of first-order discourse. As a result, in order to access the gospel story Indigenous people were required to make their way through the necessary truth statements. All of this, as Paul Ricoeur notes, “leads to the reign of theologians,”833 and, I would add, the reign of a certain kind of Western conservative evangelical theologian, a reign that limits the involvement or contribution of the Indigenous community in theological discourse. The reign of this theological model eventuated in hindering or discounting attempts at cultivating a communal Indigenous Christian theology. An alternative starting-place for an Indigenous theology, as I explained, begins with embracing Indigenous communal identity, together with its language and understanding of story; in this way, we can read the gospel story proper as Indigenous story. I went on to describe this form of theological reflection in relation to Paul Ricoeur’s thought, and to contrast it with Pannenberg’s description of peoples’ eternal destiny. I have thus begun to

833 Ricoeur, Figuring The Sacred, 71. 247

248 develop the unique contribution that an Indigenous theology might have for the larger church, while at the same time suggesting essential points of contact with the agendas of other contemporary theologians—especially those concerned with what has often been lacking in evangelical theology: namely, emphases on narrative identity and communal identity.

In chapter one, I illustrated the differences between select approaches to narrative, showing that the Indigenous use of narrative shares with other approaches to narrative the assertion that the very shape of the narrative itself is critical to identity development. This included demonstrating that evangelicalism, which has been historically broad in its approach to scripture and identity while still maintaining a particular theological confession, has not been univocal in its view of proposition. Participants in the early Canadian Indigenous mission, particularly in the mid- and late-twentieth-century, adopted Carl Henry’s approach to proposition and therefore to evangelical theology. Henry was understood to be a moderate who could bring a broad spectrum of evangelicals together around a few key doctrinal propositions. This approach extended Christian mission to Indigenous people but did not take seriously enough—if at all—the communal nature of Indigenous people. Hence, there is a need not to dismiss traditional Christian faith, or to overthrow ruling structures (as in certain strands of late-twentieth-century liberation theology), but instead to work with a narrative approach to scripture that takes seriously and builds upon the essentially narrative quality of Indigenous identity. This can be done, I have argued, by continuing to work within an evangelical frame of reference, though one that takes seriously Indigenous narrative communal identity as its point of departure.

Chapter two explored the communal nature of identity that is evident among Indigenous people in Canada and has been sought after by several recent Western theologians. I surveyed particularly those evangelical theologians who critique Western individualistic conceptions of identity and who seek to establish a more communal focus for Christian identity. This provided a context within which to discuss Indigenous narrative communal identity, while at the same time signalling a key difference. Those Western evangelical theologians reviewed see “community” as a blessing of salvation that needs to be recovered in the service of a more robust ecclesiology. Their view is not surprising, given the heightened individualism that pervades the West (and, with it, much of Western theology). An Indigenous theology could not take individualism as its point of departure or imagine “community” as a sought-after telos, because Indigenous thought presumes the primacy of the group regarding identity. Indigenous thought situates the “community” within its particular territory, and all that exists within that territory. Thus,

249 Indigenous thought does not need to “overcome” the limitations of individualism. I showed how the Cree language (the most widely spoken Indigenous language in Canada), the custom of naming practiced among Indigenous people, and the development of the treaty process all point to identifying communal identity as the point of departure for Indigenous people. Hence, the need is not to obtain a sense of “community,” but to maintain it. Among contemporary Western theologians, this communal focus of identity bears similarities to the thought of Stanley Grenz and James McClendon. McClendon, in particular, points out how Indigenous communal identity has much to show Western theology about seeing the harmony that exists in creation. Indigenous people begin with the assumption that all things are related and that this is manifest in creation. One of the tasks of Indigenous theology is to maintain group identity, and this is best done through a narrative approach.

Consequently, in chapter three, I explored how story works among Indigenous people, focusing on the Cree First Nations of Canada. The language game of Cree always seeks to maintain relationships, attempting to hold together the primary relationships of people. This includes relationships with spiritual beings, with the land, with non-human creatures, with other people in the group, and with other groups of people. To accomplish this purpose, Indigenous people rely on a narrative identity; story is the communal language of the people, and shared story extends the people’s understanding and experience of community. Therefore, narrative is fundamental to Indigenous theological reflection. The focus of chapter three, however, was not to provide a canon of Indigenous stories; instead, it focused on the performative nature of Indigenous narrative, which provides a living shared memory that develops and maintains the relationships of Indigenous people. These relationships include a relationship with the land because the land, which includes the animals upon it, is where the Creator meets with people. This spirituality of land reveals a narrative approach that is locative rather than temporal. The places mentioned in Indigenous story show the relationship of Indigenous people to the land, a fact confirmed even by the Canadian courts, which have allowed Indigenous ceremonies to be heard as evidence of relationship to land. In addition, Indigenous narrative is meant to do something within the audience. The skilled storyteller aims not only at preserving the story but also at applying the story to different contexts, and this aim reveals that Indigenous narrative identity is dynamic rather than static. As a result, the historic treaty practice of Indigenous people can be viewed as an attempt at communal narrative, which includes new people-groups who have come to North America. A treaty is not merely a contract but, according to Indigenous people, it is a narrative of

250 the coming together of the Creator, the newcomers, and the First Peoples, all of whom covenant together to live in harmony. Indigenous people have no desire to preserve an identity locked in the long past; instead, they continue to weave a narrative that maintains harmony in the land. As Indigenous people are in relationship with the land, the newcomers also need to be in relationship with the land in order to live in harmony. This harmony embraces Christian faith; however, this is a faith appropriated far less on a propositional level than on the level of narrative identity. The gospel story has a particularity of its own that can be maintained as it is interwoven with Indigenous narrative identity.

Chapter four sought to bring Indigenous understandings of narrative into conversation with recent hermeneutical theory by critically appropriating Paul Ricoeur’s understanding of narrative. Ricoeur’s thought provided vocabulary and academic validity to the largely intuitive understanding of the complexity of identity among Indigenous people. Ricoeur’s understanding that individual identity relies on a communal narrative locates the individual within the community. Moreover, Ricoeur’s work on metaphor reveals how metaphor—and, by extension, narrative—provides innovation for the introduction of new information into the life of a group. Importantly, this innovation is built on the categories of understanding that already exist in the culture. Finally, Ricoeur’s understanding of mimesis reveals how an Indigenous dialogical approach to narrative affirms the performative nature of narrative—that is, the capacity of narrative to develop identity and character—without undermining the possibility of innovation. Ricoeur is also helpful in that he accounts for subjectivity while providing a philosophical approach to story that ensures or calls for maintaining the canon of scripture as the genre of revelation. As such, the narrative approach offered by Ricoeur affirms that Indigenous narrative offers a large enough space within which a diversity of identities might live together in harmony. Accordingly, Indigenous people must read the gospel story as Indigenous story in order to do Indigenous theology. In the end, Ricoeur’s thought gives validity to Indigenous thought, while Indigenous thought extends Ricoeur’s conception of an embodied existence to include an existence related to place. The concern for identity among Indigenous people is not only temporal but very much locative, in relation to land.

Chapter five sought to compare the work of Wolfhart Pannenberg with a communally oriented Indigenous Christian theology. While Pannenberg is not an evangelical per se, he has had a significant influence on contemporary evangelical theologians, Stanley Grenz among them. I focused on Pannenberg’s anthropology, and especially his desire to see theology emphasize the

251 coming together of all into right relationships, or harmony. While Pannenberg views harmony as the eschatological telos of humanity, the Cree seek to live in a harmonious relationship in the present. Consequently, I sought to extend Pannenberg’s thought in three areas. First, having noted the complexity of the Indigenous understanding of identity that includes land, an Indigenous theology would allow for a perspective that does not view culture and nature as exclusive. An Indigenous approach to communal identity is not focused on establishing individual identity but on using the freedom of individual identity for the fulfillment of creation. Second, the communal focus of Indigenous identity and thus of theology will further the desire to locate the group at the centre of the theological reflection, replacing what remains of the hyper- individualism of Western thought. Starting with the reality of community rather than with the desire for community means that the mission of the gospel is to affirm and celebrate existing relationships while adding the fulfillment of relationship through the particularity of the gospel and Jesus Christ. Moreover, Indigenous communal narrative identity affirms the sacredness of creation as the place where the Creator meets creation.

Overall, this thesis has sought to address the dearth of academic Christian theology from within Native North American/First Nations churches. What is even more significant for this thesis is the lacuna of North American Indigenous evangelical theology. Importantly, George Tinker and other Indigenous scholars have raised their voices in an attempt to highlight the significance of Indigenous thought for theology; however, Tinker does not represent evangelicals or evangelical theology. Why have we seen a dearth of evangelical Indigenous academic theology? I have argued that this lack is largely the result of how evangelical theology entered into the thought- world of First Nations people, namely, in a propositional form that was alien to Native North American experience. This, in turn, explains my counter-emphasis on an identity that is Indigenous, communal, narrative, and landed. What I have been able to provide is little more than a prolegomenon, but in doing so, I have identified what must be the starting-point for a First Nations evangelical theology. Furthermore, in conversation with other theologians—especially Stanley Grenz, James McClendon, Paul Ricoeur, and Wolfhart Pannenberg—I have shown that Native American / First Nations / Indigenous theology has a place at the theological table.

I conclude with two observations about possible directions flowing out of this work. First, there is further need for a theology of the land. The current discussion concerning the environmental crisis emphasizes the need for a theology or land. One of the key observations of this thesis is that Indigenous communal identity includes the land, and that has underscored for me the general

252 dislocation from the earth of modern Western people. A theology of creation must move even closer to the earth, emphasizing the symbiotic relationship between people and the earth. Indigenous people understand that the Creator put them in a specific place, and this forms a vital part of their identity.

Second, the observation of the communal ethic of story found among Indigenous people could help in the formation of a shared Canadian narrative. An Indigenous theology attempts to maintain Indigenous identity while at the same time maintaining respect for other groups. The Indigenous conception of harmony is concerned with unity in diversity. Thus, in Canada, which is attempting to move beyond its colonial past, there is a need to state the framework for a narrative that could be shared by all peoples who share this land.

References

Primary Indigenous North American Sources

Aboriginal Task Force. “Aboriginal Task Force Response to the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples.” Markham, ON: Evangelical Fellowship of Canada, c. 2000.

Adare, Sierra. Mohawk. New York: Garth Stevens Publishing, 2003, 21.

Ahenakew, Alice, H. Christoph Wolfart, Freda Ahenakew, and Algonquian Text Society. Âh- Âyîtaw Isi Ê-Kî-Kiskêyihtahkik Maskihkiy = They Knew Both Sides of Medicine : Cree Tales of Curing and Cursing. Publications of the Algonquian Text Society. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 2000.

Aldred, Ray. Personal conversation with Elder Ed Wood. May 24, 2007.

———. “The Emancipatory Effects of Post-Modernity on Shame Based Cultures.” Regina, SK: Canadian Theological Seminary, c. 1999.

———. “Us Talking to Us.” Journal of North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies 1, no. 1 (2003): 79–94.

Anderson, Chris and Claude Denis. “Urban Natives and the Nation: Before and after the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples.” Canadian Review of Sociology & Anthropology 40, no. 4 (2003): 373–90.

Apess, William and Barry O'Connell. A Son of the Forest and Other Writings. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1997.

Archibald, Jo-Ann. Indigenous Storywork: Educating the Heart, Mind, Body, and Spirit. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2008.

Archambault, Marie Therese. “Native Americans and Evangelization.” In Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 152–53. Edited by James Treat. New York: Routledge, 1996.

Battiste, Marie. Reclaiming Indigenous Voice and Vision. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2000.

Black Elk and John Gneisenau Neihardt. Black Elk Speaks. New York: W. Morrow & Company, 1932.

Bloomfield, Leonard. Sacred Stories of the Sweet Grass Cree. Ottawa: F.A. Acland, 1930.

Borrows, John. Canada's Indigenous Constitution. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2010.

253

254 ———. Recovering Canada: The Resurgence of Indigenous Law. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002.

Brown, Jennifer S. H. “Rupert's Land, Nituskeenan, Our Land.” In New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, 18–40. Edited by Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007.

Bussidor, Ila and Üstün Bilgen-Reinart. Night Spirits: The Story of the Relocation of the Sayisi Dene. Manitoba Studies in Native History. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1997.

Calliou, Brian. “Methodology for Recording Oral Histories in the Aboriginal Community.” Native Studies Review 15, no. 1 (2004): 33.

Carter, Sarah. “‘An Infamous Proposal:’ Prarie Indian Reserve Land and Soldier Settlement after World War I.” Manitoba History, no. 37 (Spring/Summer 1999).

Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? : Finding Common Ground. Toronto: A. A. Knopf Canada, 2003.

Charleston, Steve. “The Old Testament of Native America.” In Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 68–80. Edited by James Treat. New York: Routledge, 1996.

Charleston, Steven Bp. “Reflections on a Revival: The Native American Alternative.” Theological Education 20, no. 1 (1983): 65–78.

Chief Dan George. “The Wolf Ceremony.” Spirit Voices. http://www.whitefeather.org.

Copway, George. “The Traditional History and Characteristic Sketches of the Ojibway Nation.” In CIHM/ICMH Microfiche series = CIHM/ICMH collection de microfiches ; no. 59357. London; Edinburgh; Dublin: C. Gilpin, A. C. Black., and J.B. Gilpin, 1850.

Cordova, V. F. “Ethics: The We and the I.” In American Indian Thought, 173–87. Edited by Anne Waters. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004.

Cruikshank, Julie. Life Lived Like a Story: Life Stories of Three Yukon Elders. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990.

Cuthand, Doug. Askiwina: A Cree World. Regina, SK: Coteau Books, 2007.

Darnell, Regna and Michael K. Foster. Native North American Interaction Patterns. Mercury Series. Hull, Quebec: Canadian Museum of Civilization, National Museums of Canada, 1988.

Davin, Flood. “Report on Industrial Schools for Indians and Half-Breeds, 1879.” In Reconciling Canada: Critical Perspectives on the Culture of Redress, 299–304. Toronto: University of Toronto, 1879.

255 Deloria, Vine Jr. Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto. Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1988.

———. “Philosophy and the Tribal Peoples.” In American Indian Thought, 3–11. Edited by Anne Waters. Maldan, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004.

Deloria, Vine Jr. and James Treat. For This Land: Writings on Religion in America. New York: Routledge, 1999.

Department of the Interior. “Annual Report for the Year Ended 30th June, 1876.” Parliament, 1877.

Fiet, Harvey A. “Hunting and the Quest for Power: The James Bay Cree and Whitemen in the Twentieth Century.” In Native Peoples: The Canadian Experience, 171–207. Edited by R. Bruce and C. R. Wilson Morrison. Toronto: McCelland and Stewart, 1986.

Hubbard, Tasha. “Voices Heard in the Silence, History Held in the Memory: Ways of Knowing Jeanette Armstrong's ‘Threads of Old Memory,’” In Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, Ethics, , 139–53. Edited by Renate Eigenbrod and Renée Hulan. Black Point, NS: Fernwood Publishing, 2008.

Indian and Northern Affairs Canada. “Highlights from the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Affiars: Perspectives and Realities.” Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services Canada, 2004.

Indian and Northern Affairs Canada. “Oral Traditions and Aboriginal Pasts: An Interdisciplinary Review of the Literatures.” Ottawa: Government of Canada, 2005.

Iseke, Judy and BMJK Brennus. "Chapter Sixteen: Learning Life Lessons from Indigenous Storytelling with Tom Mccallum." Counterpoints 379 (2011): 245–61.

Ken-A-Rah-Di-Yoh. "Treaties Recorded on Wampum Belts." http://www.degiyagoh.net/treaties.htm#treaty_belts.

Kidwell, Clara Sue, Homer Noley, and George E. Tinker. A Native American Theology. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2001.

King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Toronto: House of Anansi Press, 2003.

Kovach, Margaret. "Being Indigenous in the Academy: Creating Space for Indigenous Scholars." In First Nations First Thoughts: The Impact of Indigenous Though in Canada, 51–73. Edited by Annis May Timpson. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2009.

———. Indigenous Methodologies: Characteristics, Conversations and Contexts. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009.

Laliberte, Ron F. Expressions in Canadian Native Studies. Saskatoon: University of Saskatchewan Extension Press, 2000.

256

"Land." In A Dictionary of the Cree Language. Edited by Ven. R. Faries. Toronto: Church of England in Canada, 1938.

LeBlanc, Terry. "Family Structures: Euro-Canadian and Native Canadian." Halifax, 2009.

———. “Mi’kmaq and French/Jesuit Understandings of the Spiritual and Spirituality: Implications for Faith.” PhD diss. Asbury Theological Seminary, 2012.

Lytwyn, Victor P. "Echo of the Crane: Tracing Anishnawbek and Metis Title to Bawating (Sault Ste. Marie)." In New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, 41–65. Edited by Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007.

Manuel, George and Michael Posluns. The Fourth World: An Indian Reality. New York: Free Press, 1974.

Maxey, Rosemary McCombs. "Who Can Sit at the Lord's Table? The Experience of Indigenous Peoples." In Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 38–50. Edited by James Treat. New York: Routledge, 1996.

McCall, Sophie. First Person Plural: Aboriginal Storytelling and the Ethics of Collaborative Authorship. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2012.

———. “‘What the Map Cuts up, the Story Cuts Across:’ Translating Oral Traditions and Aboriginal Land Title.” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 80 (2003): 305–28.

MacDonald, Mark. Conversation at Consultation on Indigenous Theolgical Education. Toronto, February 20, 2009.

———. Conversation on Indigenous Theological Education. Sudbury, Ontario, May 20–23 2009.

———. "The Gospel Comes to North America." Journal of North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies 4 (2006): 10.

McKay, Stan. "An Aboriginal Christian Perspective on the Integrity of Creation." In Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 51- 55. Edited by James Treat. New York: Routledge, 1996.

McLeod, Neal. "Challenging Eurocentric History." In Expressions in Canadian Native Studies, edited by Ron F. Laliberte. Saskatoon: University Extension Press, 2000.

———. Cree Narrative Memory: From Treaties to Contemporary Times. Saskatoon, SK: Purich Pub., 2007.

McNeil, Kent. "Defining Aboriginal Title in the 90's: Has the Supreme Court Finally Got It Right?" 12th Annual Robarts Lecture. York Univresity, Toronto, 1998.

257 McNickle, D'Arcy. Native American Tribalism; Indian Survivals and Renewals. New York: Published for the Institute of Race Relations by Oxford University Press, 1973.

Meili, Dianne. Those Who Know: Profiles of Alberta's Native Elders. Edmonton, AB: NeWest Press, 1991.

Miller, J.R. "Compact, Contract, Covenant: The Evolution of Indian Treaty-Making." In New Histories for Old: Changing Perspectives on Canada's Native Pasts, edited by Theodore Binnema and Susan Neylan. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2007.

Minister of Supply and Services Canada. “People to People, Nation to Nation: Highlights from the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Affairs.” Ottawa: Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, c. 1996.

Momaday, N. Scott. The Man Made of Words: Essays, Stories, Passages. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1997.

Morris, Alexander. The Treaties of Canada with the Indians of Manitoba and the North-West Territories: Including the Negotiations on Which They Were Based, and Other Information Relating Thereto. Toronto: Belfords, Clarke, 1880.

Native Evangelical Fellowship of Canada. "Articles of Faith & Doctrine." 2010, accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.nefc.ca/Faith_Statement.html>.

Noskey, Arthur. Personal conversation with author. 2009.

Ogunwole, Stella U. "We the People: American Indians and Alaska Natives in the United States." Washington, DC: U.S. Census Bureau, February 2006.

Okim*asis, Jean L., Solomon Ratt and University of Regina. Canadian Plains Research Center. Cree, Language of the Plains = N*Ehiyaw*Ewin, Paskw*Awi-P*Ikiskw*Ewin, [University of Regina Publications, 4]. Regina: Canadian Plains Research Center, University of Regina, 1999.

"Oskana." Waskana Centre, http://www.wascana.ca/index.php?id=82.

Peelman, Achiel. Christ Is a Native American. Ottawa; Maryknoll, NY: Novalis-Saint Paul University; Orbis Books, 1995.

Preston, Richard J. Cree Narrative: Expressing the Personal Meanings of Events. Carleton Library Series. 2nd ed. Montreal; Ithaca, NY: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2002.

Ray, Arthur J. The Canadian Fur Trade in the Industrial Age. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1990.

———. I Have Lived Here Since the World Began: An Illustrated History of Canada's Native People. Toronto: Lester Publishing Limited & Key Porter Books, 1996.

258 ———. Indians in the Fur Trade: Their Role as Trappers, Hunters, and Middlemen in the Lands Southwest of Hudson Bay, 1660–1870 : With a New Introduction. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1998.

Roberts, Alexander, James Donaldson, A. Cleveland Coxe, Allan Menzies, Ernest Cushing Richardson and Bernhard Pick. The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Translations of the Writings of the Fathers Down to A. D. 325. Reprint 1975 ed. Vol. 1: The Apostolic Fathers: Justine Martyr-Irenaeus. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1899.

Robinson, Harry, and Wendy C. Wickwire. Write It on Your Heart: The Epic World of an Okanagan Storyteller. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1989.

Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. “Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples: Volume 1: Looking Forward, Looking Back.” Ottawa: Canada Communication Group - Publishing, 1996.

Schouls, Timothy A. Shifting Boundaries: Aboriginal Identity, Pluralist Theory, and the Politics of Self-Government. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2003.

Scott, Colin. "Spirit and Practical Knowledge in the Person of the Bear among Wemindji Cree Hunters." Ethnos 71(1): 51–66.

Spielmann, Roger Willson. 'You're So Fat': Exploring Ojibwe Discourse. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1998.

Standing Committee on Aboriginal and Northern Development. “No Higher Priority: Aboriginal Post-Secondary Education in Canada.” Report of the Standing Committee on Aboriginal and Northern Development. Ottawa: House of Commons Canada, 2007.

Statistics Canada. "2006 Census of Population." Ottawa, 2006.

Statistics Canada. “Aboriginal Identity Population, Canada Census 2006.” http://www12.statcan.ca/census-recensement/2006/dp-pd/hlt/97- 558/pages/page.cfm?Lang=E&Geo=PR&Code=01&Table=1&Data=Count&Sex=1&Age =1&StartRec=1&Sort=2&Display=Page.

Stewart, W. P. My Name Is Piapot. 1st ed. Maple Creek, Sask.: Butterfly Books, 1981.

Supreme Court of Canada. “Judgments of the Supreme Court of Canada: Delgamuukw V. British Columbia [1991] 3 S.C.R. 1010.” In Docket: 23799. Ottawa: Supreme Court of Canada, 1997.

Tinker, George E. "Creation as Kin." In After Nature’s Revolt: Eco-Justice and Theology, 144- 53. Edited by Dieter T. Hessel. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1992.

———. Missionary Conquest : The Gospel and Native American Cultural Genocide. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

259

Treat, James. Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada. New York: Routledge, 1996.

Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. Honouring the Truth, Reconciling for the Future Summary of the Final Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. [S.l.]: Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, 2015. http://myaccess.library.utoronto.ca/login?url=http://site.ebrary.com/lib/utoronto/Top?id=1107 0416.

Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. "Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada: Calls to Action." Winnipeg, 2015.

Unger, John. Personal conversation with author. October 2005.

"Urban Aboriginal Peoples Study." Toronto; Ottawa; Calgary: Environics Institute, 2010.

Verney, Marilyn Notah. "On Authenticity." In American Indian Thought, 133-39. Edited by Anne Waters. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004.

Waugh, Earle H. Dissonant Worlds: Roger Vandersteene Among the Cree. Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1996.

———. "Religious Issues in the Alberta Elders' Cree Dictionary." Numen 48, no. 4 (2001): 468- 90.

Waugh, Earle H. and Wayne Chief Roan. "On Concepts and 'the Best Place:' Comparative First Nations, Chinese and Western Traditions on Comprehending Reality." Religious Studies and Theology 25, no. 1 (2006): 7–36.

Wesley, Andrew. "Traditional AboriginalIndigenous Spirituality." Paper presented at the Consultation on First Nations Theological Education, Thornloe University, Sudbury, ON, May 21, 2009.

West, James L. "Indian Spirituality: Another Vision." In Native and Christian: Indigenous Voices on Religious Identity in the United States and Canada, 29–37. Edited by James Treat. New York: Routledge, 1996.

Wilson, Shawn. Research Is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods. Winnipeg: Frenwood Publishing, 2008.

Wolvengrey, Arok. "Land." In nehiyawewin itwewina: Cree words, edited by Freda Ahenakew, Judy Bear, Elizabeth Lachance, Doreen Oakes, Solomon Ratt, Velma Baptiste-Willet, Edie Hyggen, Rita Lowenberg, Jean Okimasis and Dolores Sand. Regina, SK: Canadian Plains Research Centre, 2001.

———. "Sematic and Pragmatic Functions in Plains Cree Syntax." Amsterdam Center for Language and Communication, 2011.

260 Woodley, Randy. Shalom and the Community of Creation : An Indigenous Vision. Prophetic Christianity. Grand Rapids, Mich.: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 2012.

Yazzie Burkhart, Brian. "What Coyote and Thales Can Teach Us." In American Indian Throught, 15–26. Edited by Anne Waters. Maldan, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2004.

Zhang, Jane. "Lakot Winter Counts, Pictographic Records, and Record Making and Remaking Histories." Archives and Manuscripts 45, no. No. 1 (2017): 3–17.

261 Other References

Allard, Pierre. "Restoravie Justice: Lost Treasure." Regina, SK: Canadian Theological Seminary, March, 11, 1999.

Allender, Dan B. The Wounded Heart. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2008.

Alston, William P. Perceiving God: The Epistemology of Religious Experience. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991.

Aristotle. "Poetics." In The Internet Classics Archive, 27: Daniel C. Stevenson, Web Atomics.

Auerbach, Erich. Mimesis; the Representation of Reality in Western Literature. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1953.

Austin, A. and J. S. Scott (2005). Canadian missionaries, indigenous peoples: representing religion at home and abroad. Toronto; Buffalo, University of Toronto Press.

Austin, J. L. How to Do Things with Words. The William James Lectures, 1955. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962.

Bakhtin, M. M. and Michael Holquist. The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays. University of Texas Press Slavic Series. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981.

Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Study Edition of Church Dogmatics. Edited by G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance Vol. 1.1 The Doctrine of the Word of God. London: T & T Clark, 2010.

––––––. Dogmatics in Outline. 1st American ed. New York: Philosophical Library, 1949.

Beardsley, Monroe C. The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche. The Modern Library of the World's Best Books. New York: Modern Library, 1960.

Bebbington, D. W. Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s. London; Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989.

Bebbington, David W. "Evangelicalism in Its Settings: The British and American Movements since 1940." In Evangelicalism, 365-88. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994.

Bergen, Jeremy M. Ecclesial Repentance: The Churches Confront Their Sinful Pasts. London: T&T Clark International, 2011.

Bibby, Reginald Wayne. Mosaic Madness: The Poverty and Potential of Life in Canada. Toronto: Stoddart, 1990.

Brainerd, David, Jonathan Edwards and Philip Eugene Howard. The Life and Diary of David Brainerd. Chicago: Moody Press, 1949.

262 Bock, Darrell L. Luke 9:5–-24:53. Edited by Moises Silva. Vol. 2. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 1996.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. The Cost of Discipleship. New York: Touchstone, 1995.

———. Sanctorum Communio. Translated by Ronald Gregor Smith. New York: Harper & Row, 1963.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich and John W. Doberstein. Life Together. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993.

Calvin, John. "Institutes of the Christian Religion." In The Library of Christian Classics, edited by John T. McNeill. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960.

Carter, J. Kameron. Race: A Theological Account. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2008.

Chan, Simon. "Evangelical Theology in Asian Contexts." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 225-40. Cambridge New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Christian and Missionary Alliance in Canada. "Statement of Beliefs." 2019. Accessed August 26, 2019, https://www.cmacan.org/beliefs/.

Clayton, Philip. God and Contemporary Science, Edinburgh Studies in Constructive Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub., 1997.

Coates, Ken. "Betwixt and Between: The Anglican Church and the Children of Carcross (Chooutla) Residential School, 1910–1955." BC Studies 65 (1984-5): 27-47.

Comstock, Gary L. "Two Types of Narrative Theology." Journal of the American Academy of Religion 55, no. 4 (1987): 687–717.

Cox, James L. The Impact of Christian Missions on Indigenous Cultures: The Real People and the Unreal Gospel. Lewiston, NY: E. Mellen Press, 1991.

Crites, Stephen D. "Narrative Quality of Experience." Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39, no. 3 (1971): 291–311.

Dart, John. "Religious Freedom and Native Americans." Theology Today 38, no. 2 (1981): 174– 81.

Dayton, Donald W. "Some Doubts About the Usefulness of the Category ‘Evangelical.’" In Variety of American Evangelicalism, 245–51. Knoxville, TN: Univ of Tennessee Pr, 1991.

———. "Whither Evangelicalism." In Sanctification and Liberation, 142–63. Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1981.

263 Descartes, Rene. Discourse on Method and Meditations on First Philosophy. Translated by Donald A. Cress. 4th ed. Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1998.

———. "Meditation 1." In The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche, edited by Monroe C. Beardsley. Toronto: Random House, 1960.

Descartes, René, Elizabeth Sanderson Haldane and George Robert Thomson Ross. The Philosophical Works of Descartes, Rendered into English. 2 vols. Cambridge: The University Press, 1911.

Downton, Keelan. "Narratives of Testimony, Witness, and Reconciliation." Wesley Theological Journal (2010): 246–58.

Durkheim, Emile. The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life: A Study in Religious Sociology. Translated by Joseph Ward Swain. Glencoe, IL: The Free Press, 1947.

Durkheim, Emile and Marcel Mauss. Primitive Classification. Translated by Rodney Needham. University of Chicago Press, 1963.

Eigenbrod, Renate and Renée Hulan. Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, Ethics. Black Point, NS: Fernwood Pub., 2008.

Eliade, Mircea. From Primitives to Zen: A Thematic Sourcebook of the History of Religions. London: Collins, 1977.

———. The Myth of the Eternal Return or, Cosmos and History. Translated by Willard H Trask. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1954.

———. Patterns in Comparative Religion. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1958.

Ellul, Jacques. The New Demons. New York: Seabury Press, 1975.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo. "The Over-Soul." http://www.emersoncentral.com/oversoul.htm.

Fackre, Gabriel. The Doctrine of Revelation: A Narrative Interpretation. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997.

Fackre, Gabriel J. The Religious Right and Christian Faith. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982.

Fish, Stanley Eugene. Is There a Text in This Class?: The Authority of Interpretive Communities. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1980.

Foucault, Michel. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences. World of Man. London: Tavistock Publications, 1970.

Foucault, Michel, Graham Burchell, Colin Gordon and Peter Miller. The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality: With Two Lectures by and an Interview with Michel Foucault. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991.

264

Frei, Hans W. The Eclipse of Biblical Narrative: A Study in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century Hermeneutics. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1974.

———. The Identity of Jesus Christ: The Hermeneutical Basis of Dogmatic Theology. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975.

———. Types of Christian Theology.Edited by Goerge Hunsinger and William C. Plcher. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1992.

Gauvreau, Michael. "The Empire of Evangelicalism: Varieties of Common Sense in Scotland, Canada, and the United States." In Evangelicalism, 219–52. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994.

George, Timothy. "Evangelicals and Others." First Things, no. 160 (2006): 15–23.

Goudzwaard, B., Mark Vander Vennen and David Van Heemst. Hope in Troubled Times: A New Vision for Confronting Global Crises. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007.

———. "What Does the Gospel Have to Do with Climate Change and Global Poverty." Public lecture, River Park Christian Reformed Church, Calgary, AB, October 20, 2007.

Granberg-Michaelson, Wesley. Tending the Garden: Essays on the Gospel and the Earth. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1987.

Green, Joel. "Practicing the Gospel in a Post-Critical World: The Promise of Theological Exegesis." Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 47, no. 3 (2004): 387–97.

Grenz, Stanley J. "An Agenda for Evangelical Theology in the Postmodern Context." Didaskalia (Otterburne, Man.) 9, no. 2 (1998): 1–16.

———. "Christian Spirituality and the Quest for Identity: Toward a Spiritual-Theological Understanding of Life in Christ." Baptist History and Heritage 37, no. 2 (2002): 87–105.

———. Created for Community: Connecting Christian Belief with Christian Living. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1998.

———. "Nurturing the Soul, Informing the Mind: The Genesis of the Evangelical Scripture Principle." In Evangelicals & Scripture: Tradition, Authority, and Hermeneutics, 21-41. Edited by Vincent Bacote. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004.

———. "Participation in What Frees: The Concept of Truth in the Postmodern Context." Review & Expositor 100, no. 4 (2003): 687–93.

———. Revisioning Evangelical Theology: A Fresh Agenda for the 21st Century. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1993.

———. "Salvation and God's Program in Establishing Community." Review & Expositor 91, no. 4 (1994): 505–20.

265

———. The Social God and the Relational Self : A Trinitarian Theology of the Imago Dei. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001.

———. "The Spirit and the Word: The World-Creating Function of the Text." Theology Today 57, no. 3 (2000): 357–74.

———. Theology for the Community of God. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 2000.

———. "Toward an Evangelical Theology of the Religions." Journal of Ecumenical Studies 31, no. 1–2 (1994): 49–65.

———. "What Does Hollywood Have to Do with Wheaton? The Place of (Pop) Culture in Theological Reflection." Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 43, no. 2 (2000): 303–14.

Grenz, Stanley J. and John R. Franke. Beyond Foundationalism: Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001.

Gunton, Colin E. "One Mediator ... The Man Jesus Christ: Reconciliation, Mediation and Life in Community." Pro Ecclesia 11, no. 2 (2002): 146–58.

———. The One, the Three, and the Many : God, Creation, and the Culture of Modernity. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993.

———. The Triune Creator : A Historical and Systematic Study, Edinburgh Studies in Constructive Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998.

Guthrie, Shirley C., Jr. "Systematic Theology. V 2, Doctrine." Theology Today 52, no. 3 (1995): 418–318.

Hauerwas, Stanley. "Why the Truth Demands Truthfulness: An Imperious Engagement with Hartt." Journal of the American Academy of Religion 52, no. 1 (1984): 141–47.

Hauerwas, Stanley and David Burrell. "From System to Story: An Alternative Pattern for Rationality in Ethics." In Why Narrative: Readings in Narrative Theology, 158-90. Edited by Stanley Hauerwas and L. Greogory Jones. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1989.

Hendry, Charles E. Beyond Traplines: Does the Church Really Care?: Towards an Assessment of the Work of the Anglican Church of Canada with Canada's Native Peoples. Toronto: Anglican Book Centre, 1998.

Hendry, George Stuart. Theology of Nature. The Warfield Lectures, 1978. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980.

Henry, Carl Ferdinand Howard. God, Revelation, and Authority. 6 vols. Waco, TX: Word Books, 1976.

266 ———. Twilight of a Great Civilization: The Drift Toward Neo-Paganism. Westchester, IL: Crossway Books, 1988.

———. The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1947.

Highwater, Jamake. The Primal Mind: Vision and Reality in Indian America. New York: New American Library, 1982.

Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan. Edited by C. B. Macpherson. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1968.

Holm, Tom, The Great Confusion in Indian Affairs: Native Americans and Whites in the Progressive Era. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2005.

Holmes, Stephen R. "British (and European) Evangelical Theologies." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 241–58. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Hultkrantz, Åke. The Religions of the American Indians. Hermeneutics, Studies in the History of Religions 7. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979.

Hunsinger, George. "Hans Frei as Theologian: The Quest for a Generous Orthodoxy." Modern Theology 8, no. 2 (Ap 1992): 103–28.

InterVarsity, IVCF. "Doctrinal Basis." InverVarsity, http://www.intervarsity.org/about/our/doctrinal-basis.

Irenaeus. "Against Heresies." In Irenaeus of Lyons by Robert M. Grant. London: Routledge, 1997.

Irenaeus. On the Apostolic Preaching. Translated by John Behr. Polular Patristics Series. Edited by John Behr. Vol. 17. Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1997.

Kearney, Richard. On Stories. Thinking in Action. London: Routledge, 2002.

Kee, Howard Clark. Who Are the People of God?: Early Christian Models of Community. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1995.

Kenzo, Mabiala Justin-Robert. Dialectic of Sedimentation and Innovation: Paul Ricœur on Creativity after the Subject. American University Studies. Series vii, Theology and Religion. New York: Peter Lang, 2009.

Kydd, Ronald A.N. "Canadian and the Evangelical Impulse." In Aspects of the Canadian Evangelical Experience, edited by G.A. Rawlyk, 289–300. Montreal: McGill- Queens Univerisity Press, 1997.

Lakeland, Paul. Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragmented Age. Guides to Theological Inquiry. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997.

267 Larsen, Timothy. "Defining and Locating Evangelicalism." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 1–14. Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Lindbeck, George A. The Future of Roman Catholic Theology ; Vatican Ii - Catalyst for Change. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970.

———. The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Post-Liberal Age. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984.

Lindbeck, George A. and James Joseph Buckley. The Church in a Postliberal Age. London: SCM, 2002.

Living Hope Native Ministries. "Statement of Faith." 2018. Accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.livinghopenativeministries.org/index.html.

Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Great Books in Philosophy. Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 1995.

Long, Thomas G. The Witness of Preaching. 2nd ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005.

MacIntyre, Alasdair. Three Rival Versions of Moral Enquiry: Encylopaedia, Genealogy, Tradition. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1990.

Macmurray, John. Persons in Relation. London: Faber, 1970.

———. The Self as Agent London: Faber, 1969.

Marsden, George M. Evangelicalism and Modern America. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1984.

McClendon, James William. Biography as Theology: How Life Stories Can Remake Today's Theology. New ed. Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990.

McClendon, James William and Nancey C. Murphy. Doctrine. Systematic Theology, Volume 2. 3 vols. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994.

———. Ethics. Systematic Theology, Volume 1. 3 vols. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1986.

———. Witness. Systematic Theology, Volume 3. 3 vols. Vol. 3 Witness. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2000.

McClendon, James William, and James M. Smith. Convictions: Defusing Religious Relativism. Rev. ed. Valley Forge, PA: Trinity Press International, 1994.

McFadyen, Alistair I. Bound to Sin: Abuse, Holocaust, and the Christian Doctrine of Sin. Cambridge Studies in Christian Doctrine. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

268

———. The Call to Personhood: A Christian Theory of the Individual in Social Relationships. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990.

McFague, Sallie. The Body of God: An Ecological Theology. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

———. "Parable, Metaphor, and Theology." Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42, no. 4 (1974): 630–45.

———. Speaking in Parables: A Study in Metaphor and Theology. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975.

McGrath, Alister E. Evangelicalism & the Future of Christianity. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1995

Moltmann, Jürgen. Theology of Hope. Translated by James W. Leitch. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993.

———. The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions. London: SCM Press, 1990.

Native American Partnerhsip. "Statement of Faith for Native American Partnership." 2010. Accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.napministries.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=53&Ite mid=55.

Nelson, Robert M. Place and Vision: The Function of Landscape in Native American Fiction, American Indian Studies. New York: P. Lang, 1993.

Newbigin, Lesslie. Foolishness to the Greeks: The Gospel and Western Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1986.

Niebuhr, Reinhold. The Nature and Destiny of Man: Human Nature. Vol. 1. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1996.

Nietzche, Friedrich. "Beyond Good and Evil." Translated by Helen Zimmern. In The European Philosophers from Descartes to Nietzsche, edited by Monroe C. Beardsley. New York: Random House, 1960.

North American Indigenous Ministries. "Statement of Faith." 2019. Accessed Sept 3, 2010, https://www.naim.ca/about/statement-of-faith/.

Northern Canada Evangelical Mission. "Our Statement of Faith." 2019. Accessed August 14, 2018, 2019, http://ncem.ca/about-us/our-statement-of-faith/.

Nouwen, Henri J. M. Lifesigns - Intimacy, Fecundity, and Ecstasy in Christian Perspective. Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1986.

269 Oakes, Edward T. "Apologetics and the Pathos of Narrative Theology." Journal of Religion 72, no. 1 (1992): 37–58.

Padilla, C. René. "Evangelical Theology in Latin American Contexts." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 259–73. Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Pannenberg, Wolfhart. Anthropology in Theological Perspective. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1985.

———. The Church. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983.

———. An Introduction to Systematic Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1991.

———. Jesus, God and Man. 2nd ed. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977.

———. Systematic Theology. 3 vols. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991.

———. What Is Man? Contemporary Anthropology in Theological Perspective. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970.

Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada. "Statement of Faith and Essential Truths." Mississauga, Ontario: Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada, 2014.

Peterson, Eugene H., Jim Lyster and John Sharon. Subversive Spirituality. Vancouver: Regent College Bookstore, 1994.

Quadrio, Philip. "Selected Philosophical Writings." Journal of Religious History 30, no. 2 (2006): 253–54.

Rennie, Ian S. "Fundamentalism and the Varieties of North Atlantic Evangelicalism." In Evangelicalism, 333–50. Oxford: Oxford Univ Pr, 1994.

Ricœur, Paul. "Ethics and Human Capability: A Response." In Paul Ricoeur and Contemporary Moral Thought, edited by William Schweiker, John Wall, and W. David Hall. New York: Routledge, 2002.

———. On Translation. Thinking in Action. Abingdon, UK; New York: Routledge, 2006.

———. Political and Social Essays. Athens: Ohio University Press, 1975.

———. "Rhetoric - Poetics - Hermeneutics." In Rhetoric and Hermeneutics in Our Time: A Reader, edited by Walter Jost and Michael J. Hyde, 60–72. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997.

———. The Rule of Metaphor: Multi-Disciplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1977.

270 ———. Figuring the Sacred: Religion, Narrative, and Imagination. Translated by David Pellauer. Edited by Mark I. Wallace. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995.

———. Oneself as Another. Translated by Kathleen Blamey. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.

———. Time and Narrative. Vol. 1. 3 vols. Chicago, IL; London: University of Chicago Press, 1984.

———. "Toward a Hermeneutic of the Idea of Revelation." Harvard Theological Review 70, no. 1–2 (1977): 1–37.

Ross, Rupert. Dancing with a Ghost : Exploring Indian Reality. Markham, ON: Octopus Books: 1992.

Saul, John Ralston. A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada. Toronto: Viking Canada, 2008.

Schaeffer, Francis A. Pollution and the Death of Man; the Christian View of Ecology. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1970.

Scruton, Roger, and Roger Scruton. A Short History of Modern Philosophy: From Descartes to Wittgenstein. 2nd ed. London; New York: Routledge, 1995.

Sen, Amartya. Identity and Violence: The of Destiny. Issues of Our Time. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2006.

Send International. "Statement of Faith for Send International." 2019. Accessed September 3, 2010, http://www.send.org/we-believe/.

Snyder, Howard A. and Joel Scandrett. Salvation Means Creation Healed: The Ecology of Sin and Grace: Overcoming the Divorce Between Earth and Heaven. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2011.

Stackhouse, John G. Canadian Evangelicalism in the Twentieth Century: An Introduction to Its Character. Toronto; Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1993.

———. "Mainline, Evangelical, Ecumenical : Terms, Stereotypes, and Realities in Canada." Touchstone 13, no. 1 (1995): 14–23.

Stiver, Dan R. Theology after Ricoeur: New Directions in Hermeneutical Theology. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001.

Stroup, George W. "Theology of Narrative or Narrative Theology: A Response to ‘Why Narrative?’" Theology Today 47, no. 4 (1991): 424–32.

Sweeney, Douglas A. The American Evangelical Story: A History of the Movement. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2005.

271 Tanner, Kathryn. Christ the Key. Current Issues in Theology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.

———. Theories of Culture: A New Agenda for Theology. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997.

Taylor, Charles. Modern Social Imaginaries. Durham: Duke University Press, 2004.

The Canadian Press. "400th Anniversary of Mi'kmaq Chief's Conversion to Christianity Stirs Debate." Truro Daily News, June 23 2010.

Tienou, Tite. "Indigenous Theologizing: From the Margins to the Center." Paper presented at the North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies Missiological Symposium, Los Angeles, CA, 2004.

Tiénou, Tite. "Evangelical Theology in African Contexts." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 213–24. Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Timpson, Annis May. First Nations, First Thoughts: The Impact of Indigenous Thought in Canada. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2009.

Todorov, Tzvetan. Frail Happiness: An Essay on Rousseau. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2001.

Treier, Daniel J. "Scripture and Hermeneutics." In Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology, 35–49. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

UIM International. "Statement of Faith." 2019. Accessed September 3, 2010, https://www.uim.org/page/180020335/180103706/Statement-of-Faith.

Volf, Miroslav. After Our Likeness: The Church as the Image of the Trinity. Sacra Doctrina. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1998.

———. Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996.

Walker, Ken. "Grenz, Stanley James, 1950–2005." Christianity Today 49, no. 5 (2005).

Walls, Andrew. Studies in the Transmission of Christian Faith. Mary Knoll, NY: Orbis, 1998.

Weaver, J. Denny. The Nonviolent Atonement. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 2001.

Webber, Robert. Common Roots : A Call to Evangelical Maturity. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Pub. House, 1978.

Wells, David F. "On Being Evangelical: Some Theological Differences and Similarities." In Evangelicalism, 389–410. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994.

272 Wentz, Richard E. "Settlers and Sojourners: Americans and Their Land." Currents in Theology and Mission 8, no. 1 (1981): 13–22.

Whitney, Donald S. "Defining the Boundaries of Evangelical Spirituality." 53rd Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society. Kansas City, : 2001.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig and G. E. M. Anscombe. Philosophical Investigations: The English Text of the Third Edition. Translated by G. E. M. Anscombe. 3rd ed. New York: Prentice Hall, 1958.

You, Young Gweon. "Shame and Guilt Mechanisms in East Asian Culture." The Journal of Pastoral Care 51, no. 1 (1997): 57–64.

Zizioulas, John. Being as Communion: Studies in Personhood and the Church. Contemporary Greek Theologians No. 4. Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1985.