Native American Heritage Month: A Perspective on Restorative Justice
Birth of a Nation
Manifest Destiny, a phrase coined in 1845, was the foundation and justification for many past, present, and future sins of the “not yet” United States of America. Sins that caused (and still cause) irreparable damage to a myriad of people over the course of our history. This term represents the belief that our expansion, acquisition, and conquest across this continent was both validated and justified by God—that the inevitability of our colonization was an ordained act. And so, out of “obedience”, the colonization of our country meant pillaging and plundering our way into being the western civilization we know and revere today. Not only was land stolen, but dignity and a sense of identity was taken away from Indigenous families all across this country. Our “Star Spangled Banner” nation was born out of ruination, and the residue of our birth’s blood is still on our hands. So the next question should be rather simple: As the Church, how can we lead in restorative justice for those brutally persecuted?
A Tribe Called Conquest
“We have to understand that God is for all people…,” Niki Wilkerson said with furrowed eyebrows and an urgent tone. Niki is a social justice advocate, artist, 11-year partner of Summit Church, and is of Cherokee heritage. She and I had a wonderful conversation on the intersectionality of the complicated history of this country, the Church, her upbringing, and the disenfranchisement of Indigenous people. Throughout our conversation Niki would smile with her eyes as if behind them she held secrets to the universe. And by my estimation, she certainly does. A woman who has lived 100 lifetimes worth of experience, living in 40 different states before calling Florida home, I gleaned quite a bit from her stories.
“Growing up I felt I was supposed to be quiet about who you are, your ethnicity, and try to blend in so that you can be a part of the American landscape. I’ve never been very good at that.”
— Niki Wilkerson
Like so many, Niki was robbed of a thorough understanding of her ancestry. “Growing up I felt I was supposed to be quiet about who you are, your ethnicity, and try to blend in so that you can be a part of the American landscape. I’ve never been very good at that.” she laughs.
Being both a Black woman and of Cherokee descent, she had to dig deep into her history in order to appreciate her lineage. “There were so many misinterpretations of things being told to me about Native Americans,” she expressed.
One of the many misconceptions we explored in conversation was the sovereignty and sanctity of Indigenous reservations. In 1786, the United States established its first Native American reservation and approached each tribe as an independent nation. This policy remained intact for more than one hundred years. But as President James Monroe noted in his second inaugural address in 1821, treating Native Americans this way "flattered their pride, retarded their improvement, and in many instances paved the way to their destruction." In other words, true sovereignty and sanctity was never in the cards for Indigenous people when the reservations were established — only systematic genocide.
“There are nearly 400,000 identified Cherokee [citizens], and in tribal regions they are holding on to being just that, Cherokee. I didn’t even have an opportunity to know what that was until I started looking…,” Niki continued.
The backhanded “solution” to our barbarity has ultimately created a climate that has forgotten an entire demographic of people. The violence we inflicted on Indigenous people never ended. It only evolved. Our plundering is more inherent now, using federal control to dictate the economic growth of each reservation. According to the Bureau of Indian Affairs and the U.S. Department of Interior, only 5% of the 50 million acres allotted to Native Americans are actually privately owned. The rest is retained by the government. So it should come to no surprise that the Native American poverty rate is almost double that of the rest of the United States despite only making up 2% of the census.
The Foundation for Economic Education stated, “Federal control of lands is the legacy of the outdated and racist assumption that Native Americans are incapable of managing their own lands…,”. It is this revisionist history that plagues this country and, as the Church, we must wrestle with our institution's role in the marginalization of an entire people group.
Good Trouble
The Bible teaches that civil authorities serve by God’s authorization, whether they acknowledge it or not. So there is hope that even in the midst of systemic injustice, justice may be done. As Christ followers, our job is to work toward that hope at all times. Does this ratify our sins as a nation? Does this pardon our responsibility as the Church? Absolutely and unequivocally not. Our pursuit for radical restorative justice is imperative to our walk with Christ as we bear image to the world the Lord’s heart for those living in the margins. I am reminded of the parable of the persistent widow in Luke 18: 1-8. “Grant me justice against my adversary,” the widow pleas. And with haughty, superior disdain, the unjust judge (who neither fears God nor cares for people) dismisses her cries. However, the widow’s relentless, insistent pursuit of justice led the judge to concede to her request. I love this parable because, from my perspective, it is best seen as an example not of how our prayers for justice should be without ceasing (although they should be) but instead as a paradigm for how we should insistently pursue justice for those denied justice in our society.
But I cannot help but wonder, what is it that we ought to do when we are both the unjust judge and the widow’s adversary? As a country we have stolen and continue to steal from Native Americans, and the American church has been in on the heist for centuries. Our silence and apathy has done nothing but perpetuate the continued violence in these spaces, and it is past time for us to join the persistent widow in her fight.
“It’s going to take a position that we are going to be an irritant. We have to believe in restitution, community, and humanity in a way that no one else may even applaud,” Niki said earnestly.
I couldn’t agree more. As a community of believers it is our responsibility to participate in civil engagement, repent for our sins, and join alongside our Indigenous brothers and sisters until restorative and compassionate justice is served. Only then will a National Native American Heritage Month hold all of the weight and significance it deserves. Because if in the remaining 11 months Indigenous reservations are still stricken by forms of poverty, disproportionately high health problems, an inadequate justice system, substandard education, and substandard healthcare, then our “celebration” every November will be hollow and void. The Church’s presence in this matter should be year round and the widow shouldn’t have to approach the judge alone.
“No matter what happens, we must continue to thank God for the work that has been done, and as we wait, we must ask him to move on our behalf again.”
Josh Outing is the Assistant Video Producer at Summit. When he’s not behind the camera and creating our online service you can find him greeting as one of the Volunteers on our Hospitality team.