On the way to Hobema, Jamie and I stopped at a Tim Horton’s. There we met Marcus and Reggie. Marcus is a church planter to the Plains Cree Indians. Reggie is a Plains Cree. Over donuts and coffee, Marcus told us a little about the history of the First Nations people in Canada, and some of the difficulties of working at the Jesus Church in Hobema.
After breakfast, we drove onto the reservation to see the church. Immediately we understood that Marcus’s work was different in kind than any other type of ministry I’ve experienced. As we walked up the stairs to the church, Marcus spotted an un-smoked cigarette at the foot of the steps. Seeing this, Marcus and Reggie both became unusually concerned. Marcus picked up the cigarette broke it in half, said an exorcising prayer over the cigarette, and walked into the woods to throw the cigarette away. Jamie and I didn’t know exactly how to respond. Even though this behavior seemed excessive, at first I thought, Marcus was just the type of person who was morally repulsed by cigarette smoking. After a little further conversation, we learned that tobacco, even in its modern forms, is still strongly associated with animistic curses among the Plains Cree. Because the cigarette was un-smoked and because of its conspicuous placement, both Marcus and Reggie assumed that this cigarette was ceremonially placed by a traditional elder of the Plains Cree.
This is commonplace for Marcus. A large portion of his ministry seems to be consumed with helping people in his church cope with a demon-haunted world. It definitely struck Jamie and me as unusual. We’ve never encountered the type of Spiritism that seemed common to him.
Marcus spoke of exorcisms and pagan spirituality the way I talk about Sunday afternoon lunch. It shocked us. Everywhere we went we saw evidences of witchcraft. We passed smoke houses and Sun Dance campgrounds. Every time we crossed a stream Marcus would say a brief exorcising prayer and then continue his conversation about the various plant species that grow around Hobema. This was done with type of familiarity that made it seem as if an exorcism was just a comma in his life-routine.
While we traveled through the reservation, Jamie and I mostly talked to Reggie. He is a 26 year old Plains Cree with a very deep melodic voice. He was very knowledgeable of the history of the Plains Cree, and he taught us how the Plains Cree came to reluctantly settle in Hobema.
This reluctance of a nomadic people to settle on reservation land is understandable, but it also caused many problems for the reservation. In efforts to assimilate, generations of children were removed from their parents and raised in an environment with very little supervision. No one in Hobema owns property, but everyone is given a home by the reservation council of the elders. Gang activity and an obvious disrespect for property were evident in every residential area we entered. Hobema has the highest per-capita crime rate of any city in Canada. The homes were in the worst condition of any homes I’ve ever seen. Few of the houses looked older than 5-10 years old, but every one of the houses had broken in doors, boarded-up windows, graffiti on the siding, ripped off siding, and burn damage. It’s difficult to describe the condition of the homes, and even more difficult to understand the motives behind this type of destruction.
After returning to Edmonton suburbia, Jamie and I experienced difficulty processing the day. Reggie was an incredibly gracious and kind conversationalist. I couldn’t understand how someone who greets his friends with the warm, “My heart sores like the eagle to see you” could have possibly been raised in the type of environment we witnessed in Hobema. Jamie and I tried to process the circumstances and environment we observed, but the end result was only a sleepless night. I lack the ability to understand this type of lifestyle.
After breakfast, we drove onto the reservation to see the church. Immediately we understood that Marcus’s work was different in kind than any other type of ministry I’ve experienced. As we walked up the stairs to the church, Marcus spotted an un-smoked cigarette at the foot of the steps. Seeing this, Marcus and Reggie both became unusually concerned. Marcus picked up the cigarette broke it in half, said an exorcising prayer over the cigarette, and walked into the woods to throw the cigarette away. Jamie and I didn’t know exactly how to respond. Even though this behavior seemed excessive, at first I thought, Marcus was just the type of person who was morally repulsed by cigarette smoking. After a little further conversation, we learned that tobacco, even in its modern forms, is still strongly associated with animistic curses among the Plains Cree. Because the cigarette was un-smoked and because of its conspicuous placement, both Marcus and Reggie assumed that this cigarette was ceremonially placed by a traditional elder of the Plains Cree.
This is commonplace for Marcus. A large portion of his ministry seems to be consumed with helping people in his church cope with a demon-haunted world. It definitely struck Jamie and me as unusual. We’ve never encountered the type of Spiritism that seemed common to him.
Marcus spoke of exorcisms and pagan spirituality the way I talk about Sunday afternoon lunch. It shocked us. Everywhere we went we saw evidences of witchcraft. We passed smoke houses and Sun Dance campgrounds. Every time we crossed a stream Marcus would say a brief exorcising prayer and then continue his conversation about the various plant species that grow around Hobema. This was done with type of familiarity that made it seem as if an exorcism was just a comma in his life-routine.
While we traveled through the reservation, Jamie and I mostly talked to Reggie. He is a 26 year old Plains Cree with a very deep melodic voice. He was very knowledgeable of the history of the Plains Cree, and he taught us how the Plains Cree came to reluctantly settle in Hobema.
This reluctance of a nomadic people to settle on reservation land is understandable, but it also caused many problems for the reservation. In efforts to assimilate, generations of children were removed from their parents and raised in an environment with very little supervision. No one in Hobema owns property, but everyone is given a home by the reservation council of the elders. Gang activity and an obvious disrespect for property were evident in every residential area we entered. Hobema has the highest per-capita crime rate of any city in Canada. The homes were in the worst condition of any homes I’ve ever seen. Few of the houses looked older than 5-10 years old, but every one of the houses had broken in doors, boarded-up windows, graffiti on the siding, ripped off siding, and burn damage. It’s difficult to describe the condition of the homes, and even more difficult to understand the motives behind this type of destruction.
After returning to Edmonton suburbia, Jamie and I experienced difficulty processing the day. Reggie was an incredibly gracious and kind conversationalist. I couldn’t understand how someone who greets his friends with the warm, “My heart sores like the eagle to see you” could have possibly been raised in the type of environment we witnessed in Hobema. Jamie and I tried to process the circumstances and environment we observed, but the end result was only a sleepless night. I lack the ability to understand this type of lifestyle.
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