Indigenous Justice

I currently live in Grand Rapids, Michigan, the traditional home of the Anishinabe people for thousands of years. I am the daughter of colonizers and settlers, a white, American-born woman on this land. I’m not a first generation settler, but I’m a settler all the same.

We noticed her standing just inside the front entrance looking up. While she was waiting to load her bus with the summer camp kids, she had stepped into the church foyer and saw the land acknowledgement: The Community Christian Reformed Church of Meadowvale is located on the Treaty Lands and Traditional Territories of the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation.

Have you ever seen a tree so large that as you walked towards it you could not see the top and all perspectives of height began to whirl within you?

We live in a land that was once covered in trees so expansive that you would have to make a concerted effort to walk around them. Trees that stood for generations. Trees that were nourished by salmon carcasses strewn about the forest by eagles, wolves, and bears. Trees that welcomed new life into the world, provided clothes and baskets, and then stood watch as lives waned and returned to the earth.

We so rarely know where we really are. We drive around in cars, spend our days under fluorescent lights in artificially re-circulated air, staring at screens and moving so quickly from task to task the actual location where all this happens hardly matters. We move from the city of our birth to another, and then another, and another, following education, jobs, and opportunities.

Have you ever had the experience of reading something and suddenly all kinds of connections start going off in your head? I had that experience a few years ago when I first read about the Dish with One Spoon Wampum, the covenant that held together the Indigenous peoples of the Great Lakes before settlers appeared. This wampum seemed to echo and affirm material that I had been teaching on creation. I would like to explore the parallels and their implications briefly with you.

This summer, I had the opportunity to participate in a learning tour with the Canadian Aboriginal Ministry Committee, World Renew, and the CRC Office of Race Relations focusing on places of racism, resistance, resilience, and reconciliation within urban Indigenous communities in southwestern Ontario. One of the places we visited was Aamjiwnaang First Nation, located on the St. Clair River, within the Sarnia city limits.

Kids can be pretty focused on fairness. "Elijah got more cake than me!" "Sarah isn't sharing the swing with me!" If you work or live with kids, these might be common refrains in your life!

Looking for summer beach reads? Here's what some Christian Reformed justice staff are reading this summer. 

Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” - Zora Neale Hurston

Viviana Cornejo

This year, Aboriginal Ministry Sunday is on June 17th. We're celebrating 40 years of ministry at the CRC's Indigenous Christian Fellowship in Regina. Celebrate with us!

This year we're celebrating 40 years of ministry at the CRC's Indigenous Christian Fellowship in Regina.

This year's bulletin cover and insert provide more history about this ministry (formerly called the Indian Metis Christian Fellowship):

Here's a sneak peek: 

Ever since starting to study at Redeemer, I’ve become more familiar with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s Calls to Action, and Canada’s history in the treatment of Indigenous people. Thanks to classes with William Postma and Naaman Wood, I’ve wanted to join the effort of reconciliation with Indigenous communities, but I didn’t really know what the process of reconciliation looked like practically. Maybe you’ve felt the same way.