Native American Religious Traditions

Suzanne Crawford O Brien

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN: 9780131834835
• eBook ISBN: 9781317346180
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

Focusing on three diverse indigenous traditions, Native American Religious Traditions highlights the distinct oral traditions and ceremonial practices; the impact of colonialism on religious life; and the ways in which indigenous communities of North America have responded, and continue to respond, to colonialism and Euroamerican cultural hegemony.

Religion in Action: Transcendence, Thanksgiving, and Transformation

1

This book is an introduction to Native American religious traditions, their historical context, and how they are practiced and experienced today. It does not provide a comprehensive or exhaustive examination of these traditions, for the sheer diversity of the Native peoples of North America prevents this. There are 562 tribal nations currently recognized by the United States federal government, and 245 other tribal nations that are recognized by State governments, many of whom are currently seeking federal recognition.¹ Native America thus includes over 800 unique tribal nations, most of whom have their own distinct language, their own cultural, spiritual, and philosophical traditions, and their own worldview. It is important to remember that there is no single “Native American philosophy” or “Native American religion.” These traditions differ broadly depending on where you look, and to whom you speak. The creation stories, ritual traditions, worldviews, languages, and ethical systems of these cultural groups vary enormously—as much, perhaps, as the cultures of Northern Europe might differ from those of Southeast Asia. Hence, this book does not attempt to provide a thorough overview of Native traditions as they exist in all areas of the country. Rather, it looks at three distinct Native communities living in opposite corners of North America.

A central theme of this book is that many of the differences that exist between indigenous traditions can be attributed to the very landscape within which these cultures exist. These are autochthonous traditions: traditions that emerge from the earth. Indigenous cultures share an intimacy between their spiritual and cultural traditions and the natural environment in which these traditions have taken shape. Vastly varying landscapes have thus directly contributed to the formation of incredibly diverse cultures. Cultures of the Plains are influenced by the Great Plains themselves, their landscape, open vistas, geology, flora, and fauna. Likewise, nations of the Pacific Northwest Coast have crafted cultures built from the oceans, volcanic mountains, cedar forests, and salmon runs that surround them.

In the chapters that follow, three indigenous traditions of North America are explored at length: the Diné, or Navajo nation, of the Four Corners region in the Southwest; the Coast Salish of the Pacific Northwest Coast; and the Lakota of the Northern Plains.² Obviously, choosing these three cultural groups means that many cultures have been omitted. Very little is said here about Native communities in the Northeastern or Southeastern regions of the country, for example, and students are certainly encouraged to pursue further reading in these areas. Some suggestions for reading are included at the end of the book.

It is my hope that the chapters that follow will contribute to the growing field of Native American religious studies. Until very recently, scholarship on Native traditions was written with a distinctly Euroamerican agenda, with very few attempts to understand the traditions as they were perceived and experienced by Native people themselves. Native religious traditions were explained as primitive precursors to the Christian religion of “civilized man.” Further, many ethnographers who sought to study these traditions in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries did so under the guise of what has been called “salvage ethnography.” That is, they were guided by the belief that Native people and traditions were dying out, and would soon vanish. These were considered endangered species that had to be studied, quickly, before the “genuine” traditions were lost forever. As many Native scholars have pointed out in recent years, including Vine Deloria Jr., so-called “salvage ethnographers,” while certainly well intentioned, labored under a misconception as to what “real Indian religion” was about, seeking to preserve an idealistic image of pristine culture, untouched by external influences. But Native traditions and ceremonies have always been in a state of flux and change, adapting to shifts in ecology, environment, and social interaction. Tribal nations met, exchanged knowledge, and shared traditions. The assumption that Native people and traditional Native culture were vanishing from the earth relied on a view of Native culture as static, fixed, and inherently fragile.

Colonialism, missionary expeditions, and the introduction of non-native epidemic diseases did indeed devastate Native nations. Entire communities were destroyed, and much cultural knowledge was lost. However, what is amazing is the degree to which Native people have retained their traditions, modifying and reshaping them to suit contemporary needs and issues, while maintaining core values of spirituality, wellness, and sacrality. Hence, the Sun Dance has become a ceremony that many Christian Lakota integrate into their spiritual lives, finding similarities between the sacrifice of the Sun Dancer and that of Christ. The Coast Salish First Salmon ceremony stands as a clear example of the importance of traditional ritual, ceremony, and ecological ethics in a very contemporary world. And the Diné Kinààlda has also changed to accommodate new challenges that young Diné women face today, such as career choices, managing families, and avoiding dangers such as alcohol, drugs, and early pregnancy. In contrast with the static view of tradition in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century ethnographies, in the last few decades much scholarship has taken on this more fluid perspective regarding what can be defined as “traditional” Native practice, allowing for the innovation and creativity that have always been a part of Native culture. Many contemporary scholars are also working in partnership with Native communities, seeking to present Native traditions and cultures as they are seen and understood by Native people themselves, and working toward research goals that are often set by the communities with whom they work.

The goal of this volume is to demonstrate that Native people and cultures are indeed alive and thriving in the twenty-first century. They face challenges, but they are doing so by drawing upon a rich cultural heritage. This first chapter introduces three ceremonial gatherings as they occur in the lives of these communities. The aim is to place the reader within the lived experience of contemporary Native traditions, to give a sense of what a particular gathering might feel, smell, and look like. These descriptions are placed within their historical, cultural, and political context in the chapters that follow. Chapter 2 addresses the philosophical foundations of Native traditions, particularly as found within stories of origin and modes of cultivating spiritual power. Chapter 3 discusses the impact of colonialism and Christian missions on these three communities, and the ways indigenous religious traditions adapted or responded to political, economic, and environmental crises. Chapter 4 discusses contemporary American Indian traditions in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, placing the ceremonies described in Chapter 1 within their broader cultural and ceremonial context. The book concludes with a final chapter expanding on important issues and challenges for the survival of Native American religious traditions in the next century, including religious freedom, the preservation of sacred spaces, and the repatriation of human remains and ceremonial objects.³ But first, a look at religion in practice.

Religion on the ground

The Lakota Sun Dance⁴

It is midsummer, and the heat rising from the field is already overwhelming. Cars, trucks, and vans have turned off the road running through the reservation and have driven over what, for the rest of the year, is pasture for tribal bison herds. The site is far from the nearest town, and there will be no electricity or running water. As you drive over the field, you notice that families have already begun erecting tents, tipis, and campers. The steady roar of a Coleman stove reminds you of lunch, and you remember that the full moon will make flashlights unnecessary tonight.

Two ceremonial tipis have been built for the dancers, one for men and another for women. Their floors are covered with sage—and the dancers will sleep there in preparation for their work tomorrow. You have come to one of the many annual Sun Dances, wiwanyang wacipi (“gazing at the sun”), to watch your cousin dance. The dancers are keeping a vow they made the year before. While you will not be participating, for the next four days you will be watching, offering your prayers in support of the dancers’ efforts. Although you have been living in Minneapolis for the last four years, you return to the reservation every summer for a Sun Dance. It is a time when the community comes together, when extended families restore familial bonds, when everyone pitches in to support the dancers and the sacrifices they are making on behalf of their community. You park your car and begin unloading cases of food that you have brought with you. A woman elder points you in the direction of the cooking arbor, where you leave the food with the women inside. They in turn find you an axe, and for the next several hours you are chopping firewood, hauling water, and doing as you’re instructed. While men will direct the Sun Dance itself, it is women who direct the social aspects of the gathering as a whole, and young men obediently do as the elder women direct.

Later, you join in with those working to build the Sun Dance arbor, a circular shade located in front of the ceremonial tipis, built of forked posts set into the ground and covered with green boughs. Before they are set in place, the posts are blessed and prayed over, and sweetgrass is burned to purify and bless the space. The arbor is open to the east. The side opposite the entrance is reserved for wakan (holy) people, those participating in the dance: spiritual leaders and elders, the dancers, their advisors and teachers, the young women who have cut the sacred pole, and mothers waiting to have their young infants’ ears pierced. The sides of the arbor nearest to the entrance are for observers, those not wakan, who will offer their emotional and spiritual support for the dancers, but generally are not allowed to set foot within the dance arena itself. The arena, the circular area within the arbor, will be the focus of the following days’ activities. Once the arbor is completed, you rest in its shade, a welcome respite from the midsummer sun of the Northern Plains. As you watch, a hole is dug at the center of the arena and is consecrated with buffalo fat. This is the time when the sacred pole is brought in.

Four young men had been sent out to the sacred cottonwood tree (usually chosen in advance) to “capture” it. The tree is treated like an honored enemy: it is spoken to, prayed to, sung to, and treated with respect. A prayerful apology is given to the birds that live in its branches. Then, four young virginal women each strike one blow in each of the four directions before others cut the tree down.⁵ When the tree falls, the men present catch it: it must not touch the ground. Next, it is carried to the arena. When the distance is too great, as it was this year, the tree is driven to the arena, other cars along the highway stopping in respect as the tree passed by. Along the way, those carrying the tree stop four times, and at each pause ritual songs are sung. Now, you watch as the pole is carefully erected at the center of the arena. Respectfully, the tree is honored with songs, with smoke from a sacred pipe, and with prayers to the four directions. Thus the tree and the center of the arena are consecrated as holy. The lower branches of the tree have been removed, but the topmost branches remain. In these branches, the spirit of the tree remains present, and will, along with the sun, soon become the focus of the dancers’ prayers. An altar is built, and a buffalo skull is placed at the base of the tree. High on the tree is a bundle of chokecherry branches. From these, effigies of a man and a male buffalo are hung, both made from buffalo hide, symbolizing fertility and success in hunting and warfare. Streamers of cotton cloth meant as offerings hang from the branches, along with tobacco ties. Participants and observers have spent hours making these prayer ties: each one contains a pinch of tobacco, prayerfully sewn up in a small cotton pouch. The colors of the cotton cloth and tobacco ties indicate prayers to the four directions, the heavens and the earth. The meaning of the colors can differ, but one arrangement of the colors is: white, honoring the north; yellow, honoring the east; red, honoring the south; black, honoring the west; green, honoring the earth; and blue, the sky.

The dance will not begin until tomorrow, but tonight there will be a feast for those who have come to attend it. You are once again put to work, tending a fire for the cooks, hauling clean water, and removing trash. There is a lot to do, and everyone pitches in. You know that through your labor and good spirit you are giving strength to the dancers who will suffer tomorrow. By evening, everyone has arrived; there are over 200 people, and an enormous feast begins. Prayers are made, and dancers share their pledges, make their oaths, making their offerings so that the community will benefit, or so that struggling individuals will be given strength and health. Songs and prayers are sung to the beat of the drum, Sun Dance songs that have been passed down through the generations for hundreds and perhaps thousands of years. All night long, singers will drum by the fire, singing ceremonial songs.

The next morning, at 4.30, you are still asleep in your tent when you hear the wake-up call. Through bleary eyes, you see that the sun has not yet risen, and you know your cousin will be getting up and going to prepare himself. A year ago he pledged to dance. He had had a dream about the difficulties that young Lakota people face, and that through his suffering in the dance, his prayers would help to make the community stronger. There was more to the dream, but he has not shared that with you. The details are between him and his advisor, whom he calls tunkasila, or grandfather. But his advisor is not a genetic grandfather; he is his guide, his teacher, his mentor.

When your cousin first vowed to take part in the Sun Dance, his first obligation was to find a mentor. He visited a friend of his grandfather’s, a man known for his wisdom and his experience as a Sun Dancer, taking him a gift and a ceremonial pipe filled with tobacco, formally requesting that he act as his mentor. The advisor contemplated the request for several days before arriving at your cousin’s home and agreeing to mentor him. That weekend, he had held a sweat to begin your cousin’s preparation for the Sun Dance. Prayers were offered with the pipe, and water was poured on the heated rocks of the sweat lodge. The breath of the rocks rose into the lodge, entering their bodies, renewing their life as they sweated. The mentor instructed your cousin to seek a vision or dream. When he did indeed experience another powerful dream, he talked it over with his mentor at great length. The symbols that your cousin today paints on his body and wears in his regalia are derived from this dream. This guidance continued throughout the year, as he advised your cousin on the construction of an altar, and in daily meditation and prayer, preparing him for today. The preparation was extensive, involving every area of his life: how he ate, how he exercised, how he interacted with his parents and family, how he approached his schoolwork, and his determination to abstain from drugs, alcohol, or harmful talk or thoughts. Once someone has pledged to dance, he or she must live in the right way, with respect for family, community, and the earth. And now your cousin is going to join the other dancers in the sweat lodge, where he will purify himself for the day ahead.

Along with the other dancers and participants, both men and women, he will fast from food and water. After sweating, the dancers will gather in the wakan section of the lodge and pray with the sacred pipe. His body and face are painted red, the color of sacred, power-filled things. As you enter the lodge, you pass by elders sitting next to the door, offering their silent support to the dancers, their hands occasionally lifted toward the center pole in prayer. The dancers enter the lodge from the east, walking in a sunwise motion, going to their left, toward the back of the lodge. The drum and ceremonial drumsticks have been placed to the left of the lodge entrance. Drummers and singers gather there; their drumbeats and songs will guide the dancers through the daylong ceremony. A respected spiritual leader, a medicine man with knowledge, experience, and spiritual power, leads the dance.

After sunrise, the dancers enter the arena, dancing around the central pole, every movement a concentrated prayer. You watch your cousin dancing, the rising sun heating the arena, his eyes focused on the pole, meditating on his dream. He wears a long red skirt, and his chest is bare; four eagle plumes are in his hair, and there is a wreath of sage around his head; a medicine bundle hangs around his neck. These dances will continue throughout the day as the dancers, in their wakan state, offer their prayers and meditate on the sacred pole. Later in the day, at the appointed time, your cousin moves forward, lying down on a buffalo robe at the base of the tree. The ceremonial leader, a wise elder who has himself participated in many Sun Dances, kneels next to him. Your cousin’s skin is pierced with skewers made of eagle claws and tie...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Foreword
• Preface
• Timeline
• Map
• 1: Religion in Action: Transcendence, Thanksgiving, and Transformation
• 2: Philosophical Foundations: Religion as Relationship
• 3: Defending Sacred Ground: Assimilation and Resistance in the Colonial Era
• 4: Contemporary and Traditional: Native American Religious Traditions Today
• 5: Sovereignty, Ecology, and Religious Freedom in the Next Millennium
• Notes
• Glossary
• Pronunciation Guide
• Suggested Further Reading
• Index