Watonga VBS: III

Parting Gestures
When I wrote about our dinner presentation on Wednesday night, I didn't tell the full story. Mr. Clark's presentation on Cheyenne cosmology was only half. Rev. Jim was the other half.

As I've mentioned, Jim is a deacon who has served this small community since 1992. A deacon in the Episcopal church is an ordained ministry. Some think of the order as a mini-priest, or a sub priest, but it is a respected order all its own distinct from the priesthood. Prior to this ministry, Jim was a licensed drug and alcohol counselor.

For his presentation, Jim shared a variety of objects that have been given to him during his time in Watonga. These objects included a variety of eagle feathers, a bandelero (a sort of sash worn cross-ways across the upper torso), a beaded cross, and even a cap from the local funeral parlor.

Of special note was a box of items from a man Jim had sponsored in a Sundance some years back. I wrote at length last year about the Sundance, and won't repeat that background now. In this box was an eagle-bone whistle, which the Sundancer had blown during the ceremony. The whistle was given to Jim with the understanding that he would only blow it on special occasions. He told us he had only blown it four times since he had gotten it (which I understand to be more than four years previous), and he intended to blow it again when we left.

That was Wednesday night.

It rained again Friday. We called the pool, and confirmed that it was closed. The pool is open to the weather, and not a place one wants to be if there is a lightening storm. We had to reluctantly tell the kids we would not be taking them swimming.

The VBS kids left around one. We spent a little over an hour thoroughly cleaning the building. A little after two, we all sat down so Jim could debrief us and give us our grade.

It's been a running joke that Jim never gives the VBS organizers better than an A-. This year, he didn't even mention a letter grade. He expressed the wish that more young people from our church could have joined us; beyond that, he invited us to grade ourselves.

He brought in his box, and an eagle feather. Perhaps you picture something small. But remember that the eagle is not a small bird. This feather was at least as long as my arm, and more than two hands wide. He had a small bowl filled with cedar chips and sage smoldering.

He blew the eagle bone whistle. Three times to each direction. It was not a melodious sound. It was piercing and serated. It cut through the heart. It echoed into the sinews.

There is a native tradition we call "smudging". The smoldering bowl is brought before you, and the smoke is wafted in your direction. Many native peoples cup their hands, and bathe themselves with the smoke, then pat themselves over the heart with an open palm.

Jim first smudged one of the young people in our group, Emma. I had been calling Emma princess all week, because she was the sort who would have complained about a pea under her matress. Jim asked her to carry the bowl as he smudged the rest of us. She carried that bowl with regal dignity.

After he wafted the smoke at each person, he then patted them done with the eagle feather. Head, right side, then left side.

A blessing for the road.  

Final Thoughts
This is a craft one of the town's children made. It reads, "You were mad and sometimes sad but at the end it is happy." Amazing how many emotions are described in those few words. And the colorful beads below the words may reflect happiness, but I'd like to think they reflect something more — joy.

We too often think happiness can be bought. Or that it may be contingent on our friends or loved ones. If happiness were a commodity to be bought, it is likely beyond the means of most of these children. Many asked if they could take craft supplies (like construction paper) home. We had bought these supplies on sale, and they were a small part of our budget for the Vacation Bible School. We gave the left-overs gladly.

But each time one of us said "Yes," a child's eyes would sparkle.

I suppose we had come to share joy. Yes, we had some good news about how God is expressed through Jesus. But that was embodied by each volunteer. Ideally, our coming from so far away, and sharing ourselves with them, let these children know how worthy they are. Not that we are so special. But any time an adult can praise a child, that child grows a bit more.

That's why I came. I pray love was expressed in each song. I pray hope was experience in each affirmation. I pray their natural faith was strengthened.

I pray you may find a place to share these gifts as well.