Reflection

I had the opportunity a few days ago to spend a couple of hours at Starbucks. I don’t know if the best part was the free breakfast or the writing I got done. It may have been the moment of Zen and bonding between the barista and me when we both agreed that this day was the fifth Monday in a row.

I typed and I scribbled – keyboard and paper both. I set my alarm for PT and didn’t worry one minute about the time. Whenever my rant became too vocal inside my head, I took a metaphorical step back and people-watched for a minute and I was able to step back from the edge and regain my focus. And I wrote some more.

Since I started working full time (which I am not complaining about), I have not been able to take my writing time on the road so to speak. I miss taking myself to a quiet meal, pulling out my notebook and jotting down some thoughts that eventually expand into something else; something more.

My witchy ghost straw and I enjoyed this quiet time, and it reminded me that I need to schedule these moments into my month. It doesn’t need to be a long time; it can be on one of my lunch hours, but it is so important to recharge the creativity.

I had another wonderful day the Friday before, joining a pilgrimage at the St. Kateri Shrine in Fonda. I was able to meet new people, hear their reactions to the shrine, sit and listen and absorb the spirituality, the music, the moments in mass, and with the Sister who is part of St. Kateri’s story and miracle. The only word that comes close to describing it is glorious. It truly was that.

That one day there, and these couple of hours at the coffee shop will stay with me for the next few weeks, possibly a month or so, and carry me, push me, and let me move my book, as well as other writing, forward into the new year.

It’s a wonderful feeling.

Glorious.

Research and Rabbit Holes

For my May inspired I thought I would indulge a little. As many know I have been doing a lot of research for my book on St. Kateri, and as I was reminded of in a recent writing class I took, with research you will learn much more than you will actually include in your book, whether that book is fiction or non-fiction, and I have discovered the truth in that. The research that I’ve been doing for this book includes not only St. Kateri’s life before sainthood, but also Mohawk history, the Jesuits in New France, and various aspects of both Catholicism and the longhouse religion as well as many other details that help to inform the writing and the context, something that I’m learning the Jesuits at the time lacked when they spoke of the Native American ways.

I went down one rabbit hole recently that led me to three separate web pages regarding President Ulysses S. Grant’s “Indian Policy,” which was both informative and disheartening. I spent two hours reading, and it will only result in one or two sentences in the entire book.

In discussing 19th century treaties with one of my writing groups, I was sent a recent article on a court case from 2005 that referenced a treaty from 1794. There was also a recent Supreme Court case whose decision was based on a treaty from the 1800s regarding water rights. Another disheartening read as while the Supreme Court agreed that the Native tribe had rights to water, they did not however have the right to have the US government provide said water. Whew! What an acrobatic backflip!

One thing that surprised me in reading about the Jesuit way of converting the Natives to Catholicism was how they dismissed the Haudenosaunee’s spirituality and religious ceremonies when they were already so close to Christianity: a monotheistic society with one Creator, virgin births, miracles, and several other instances of commonalities.

I’ve read five books, two of which had nothing to do with St. Kateri but was wholly about Haudenosaunee Creation and the creation of their confederation and countless journal articles including one comparing the Jesuits’ use of incense to the Native American’s use of sacred fire and smudging. In reading Tom Porter’s book, And Grandma Said…, I have confirmed that we are more alike than we are different. In fact, when he was discussing how he prayed (by talking to his Creator), but was told that was the wrong way to pray by Christians, I was aggravated; that was exactly the way I prayed since childhood – through conversations with my G-d.

As appalled as I’ve been over the years at the treatment of Native Americans by colonialists (and modern people) I have become even more appalled and tell anyone who will listen about these judgments and discrimination foisted upon the Native population here on Turtle Island.

The second time we visited Kahnawake in Quebec, I told our tour guide that I wanted to visit, not only for the St. Kateri information where her tomb was, but also because what my children, who are 27, 19, and 18 have learned of their Iroquois history in 4th grade is the same as I learned in my 4th grade class forty years before that.

I’m reaching out to people with questions. I’m visiting places where Kateri lived both as a child and as a young adult, taking notes, creating lists of questions, looking through land buying archives, borrowing well-worn books out of the library. I’m getting help from places I hadn’t expected and advice on where to look for information. I’ve reached out to an artist for permission to use his art and I’ve signed up for journal access, which fortunately was granted for one month rather than requiring payment for the entire year.

While there is a struggle to find some material, I am reading from Mohawk sources to realize the context and seeing the misunderstandings of the Jesuits towards Kateri’s people. I also believe some of those characterizations were intentional to make Kateri seem more pure, more otherworldly, more worthy of the sainthood they coveted for her future.

My next two research jaunts I’m hoping to make are to the shrines in Fonda, New York and Kahnawake, Quebec to visit their archives. In both cases, I’m hoping the papers are in English rather than French. I also hope to interview one or two people and visit one area’s Strawberry Festival and one area’s Pow-Wow (both of which are open to the public). Those have less to do with Kateri the person and more to do with the Mohawk heritage.

Rabbit holes. They are deep and twisty, and the bucket is often not big enough for what is unearthed.

Travel – National Shrine of the North American Martyrs, Auriesville, NY and St. Kateri Tekakwitha, National Shrine & Historic Site, Fonda, NY

I hadn’t intended for this series on travel to wholly encompass shrines, but I was asked yesterday about visiting these two later in the summer and thought it would be a good opportunity to share their information with you.

The sites are spiritually connected by both St. Kateri Tekakwitha and the Jesuits. The site in Auriesville has a coliseum, one of the first circular churches built in the US. It holds about 6000 people. Across their 600 acres of land is a museum, one or two chapels, a grotto dedicated to Our Lady of Fatima, and Theresa’s Rosary, a rosary made of rocks embedded in the ground. I have walked and prayed this rosary on one of my visits.

There is also the ravine where Rene Goupil’s body was found. In visiting there, I found it very spiritual and a place of holiness. The way to the ravine is quite steep. On the way there are several statues and grottos to pray at as well as signs that tell the story of the Martyrs.

Prior to his martyrdom, Isaac Jogues had been held in captivity and tortured by the Mohawk (a different group) for over a year. With help he escaped in New Netherland or Albany, NY. He returned to France, where he visited his mother in Orleans (where Joan of Arc led France’s army 219 years before) and was considered a “living martyr” by Pope Urban VIII, but soon again returned to this area, longing for and meeting his martyrdom in what is now Auriesville. It had been the Mohawk village of Ossernenon. He, Jean de Lalande, and Rene Goupil were tortured and killed here. Jogues weighted Goupil’s body and placed it in the water of the ravine in order to return and bury him properly. He did return, but he was gone. He later found some of his body parts, and reverently buried them. I’ve heard others say that the ravine itself is a reliquary. As I said, the spirituality felt here is palpable.

At this same village, ten years after their deaths, Kateri Tekakwitha was born. She became ill with smallpox and both of her parents died. She was scarred, and it was difficult for her to see, needing to put her hands out and feel her way. Her name Tekakwitha translates into she who bumps into things. Her mother had been baptized Catholic and educated by the e missionaries. Her village moved from Ossernenon across the Mohawk River and rebuilt their village, named Caughnawaga, which means place of the rapids. She was bullied for practicing her Catholic faith. She refused to be married, and that did not make her popular within her adoptive family and aunts. She also practiced mortification, praying for the conversion of her family and for forgiveness.

Her name Kateri is for her baptismal name of Catherine, which she received after her baptism at the age of 19. It took me several years, but I was able to walk to the spring (it’s a bit of a steep incline) from the village footprint that archeologists uncovered. Her Native people still felt that the Catholic religious rituals and items were sorcery and opposed her conversion. At some point after her conversion, she was helped to leave and went north to the new Mohawk village where other Native converts had gone. This village was also named Kahnawake (this is the Mohawk spelling), just south of Montreal. She died in 1680.

When I visited her empty tomb (where she was first laid to rest until her relics were removed to the St. Francis Xavier Mission Church on the Mohawk land), the sound of the rushing water nearby was nearly deafening. I have had so many spiritual experiences in visiting the sites of Kateri and her people that it only makes me more in awe of the Holy Spirit.

For those who are not religious, but want to visit a pastoral, serene, place of comfort, both shrines offer that in the beautiful Mohawk valley. The sights and sounds are lovely, and it is easy to get lost in your own thoughts. Of course, that’s until the train comes roaring by, but that is in its own way an affirmation of the space we are in.

National Shrine of the North American Martyrs
Auriesville, NY

Open May 1 – October 19, 2023
Hours:
Grounds: Open daily 9-7
Museum: Open daily 11-3:30
Gift Shop/Visitor Center: Open daily 10-3
There is no fee for admission or parking.
If you are interested in attending mass or other events, visit their website.

^{National Shrine of the North American Martyrs.}
^(c)2023

St Kateri Tekakwitha, National Shrine & Historic Site
Fonda, NY

Summer Season: May 1st to October 31st
Hours:
Grounds are open sunrise to sunset daily.
Saint Peter’s Chapel and Native American Museum open daily, 9-5
Gift shop open: Sat, 10-6, Sun – Wed, 9-5, Thurs – Fri, 10-4
Office open daily 9-4
Candle Chapel, Caughnawaga Village Site, Kateri Spring and grotto, outdoor sanctuary, and hiking trails are open sunrise to sunset year-round.
If you are interested in attending mass (scroll down at the link) or other events, visit their website.

^{St. Kateri Tekakwitha statue with a sign of her last words:}
^{Jesus, I love you!}
^(c)2023

June Inspiration, Expanded

As I mentioned in the June Inspire last week, I’ve been awed by the number of inspiring events I’ve been privileged to have participated in since the very beginning of the month. Since I was unable to choose one or two to write about, I thought I’d write about most of them, and include some photos and links so you can explore on your own in your own timeframe and let them capture your imagination and inspire you as well.

One warning before I really get into it: this will be picture heavy (as well as, from my estimate, word heavy).

June began with a weekend retreat that I’m still feeling. June is also the end of the school year, and so during finals and Regent’s exams, my youngest often doesn’t have to go to school, and since the whole crew at home took a day off to see The Flash movie (no spoilers ahead), we decided to take a road trip to Connecticut. And then finally, a field trip to a college outside of Albany to tour a set of books (a Bible actually) of Biblical calligraphy and illuminations. And in between all of that it’s been busy with driving my kids, funeral for a colleague and friend, interfaith doings, Red Hats lunch, a broken hearing aid, weekly rosary, and Father’s Day, an interfaith prayer service, and a fellowship luncheon.

June has been a lot more than usual, and it’s still got a few days left; Indiana Jones will be inspiring in its own way. I don’t want it to sound as though I’m complaining; I’m really not, although once I get started it’s hard to turn off the listing; it’s like a waterfall. However, I can’t say it’s been dull or uninspiring; it’s definitely been the opposite of both of those.

Inspire. June.

Inspire is a little late this month…okay, it’s a lot late this month. It’s not that I’ve been procrastinating as much as I’ve been absorbing and acting on the plethora of inspiration that I’ve been exposed to in the last several weeks. Sometimes there is a lull or a slight time of unknowing what I’ll write about, but this month was the opposite. How do I choose from the things that inspired me this month, and continue to inspire me? This paragraph formed the introduction to a much longer article on some of the inspirational things I’ve been exposed to throughout June; however, I decided to share some stories from last night’s World Peace & Prayer Day Interfaith Service that I attended at the Historic St. Kateri Tekakwitha Shrine in upstate New York and save the longer writing for another day.

World Peace and Prayer Day was started in 1994 by Avrol Looking Horse to honor the birth two years before of a white buffalo calf, which was a sign of changing times to come as well as the “coming of the mending of the Hoop of All Nations”. She was named Miracle. June 21st was chosen because it is a powerful time to pray for peace as well as being the Summer Solstice and the longest day of the year. It is an offering and hope to heal all of Mother Earth’s gifts that live on the earth, including the Earth herself.

Speak evil of no one. If you can say no good of a person, then be silent..

Let not your tongues betray you into evil,

For these are words of our Creator.

Let all strive to cultivate friendship with those who surround them.
Handsome Lake, Iroquois Prophet

Native American Heritage Month (2)

When we travel to places with Native American distinction and I plan to buy something to remember my visit, I look to see if the object is Native made. There are so many knock-offs and items appropriated out there that I feel that if I’m going to buy Native crafts, symbols, and jewelry, it should be genuinely made by Native peoples and the income should benefit them.

The picture below highlights my three most recent crafts:

The photo on the left is a dream catcher. I have had one in my bedroom for decades. I had received a small one but it has been mislaid. I chose this one while we were in Montreal. I didn’t realize it at first but it is a necklace. I have hung it over the lamp on my bedstand to keep away bad spirits and dreams.

The top right is a simple lapel pin that I purchased at the St. Kateri Shrine in Fonda, New York. It is the flag of the Iroquois Confederation. These flags can be seen flying in many places across New York State and lower Canada.

The bottom right picture is a pair of earrings I discovered in Niagara Falls, Ontario. I was drawn several times to the three colors – the silver, the bronze, and the turquoise. While this design could easily be Native American jewelry or ancient Egyptian, and I was so happy to find that they were indeed Native made. As my birthstone is turquoise, I am often drawn to the stone and color.

The Feast Day of St. Kateri Tekakwitha

St. Kateri Tekakwitha was the first Native American woman to be canonized. This was in 2012, the same year I joined the church with my ongoing attendance. It would be another two years before I came into full communion and participation.

There were many reasons that I was attracted to St. Kateri as I considered her among others while I discerned a confirmation name (ultimately choosing St. Elen of Caernarfon as many of you know).

I have always felt a connection to the Native American people and interested in their culture and spiritual practices. As kids our parents took us to the pow-wow out on Long Island with the Shinnecock Indians. It’s hard to live anywhere in New York State and not find nearby towns with Native names.

A gift from my friend in South Dakota. It is a dream catcher and it has helped me at times when I’ve had trouble sleeping. It is Native made near the sacred Black Hills.
(c)2021

Kateri was from nearby; just west of the Capital District. She was born in the village of Ossernenon, now known as Auriesville. The village is mapped out at the Martyrs Shrine. After a small pox epidemic killed her family and left her scarred, the remaining Mohawk burned the village and moved (as was done when a disease ran rampant through their homes).

They moved further west and to the other side of the river to what is now Fonda, above where the current Kateri Shrine is located in the village called Caughnawaga. The footprint of the village can be seen and can be reached either by car or by walking the trails to the village and the spring.

St. Kateri Tekakwitha’s Shrine

We’re reminded throughout the year and the Liturgical calendar of many of the saints through their feast days. Recently, we’ve observed Sts. Simon and Jude, the North American Martyrs and Pope St. John XXIII and Pope St. John Paul II.

Today is All Saints’ Day; that day on the calendar that honors all the saints. Although not today, it is often a holy day of obligation where Catholics are expected to attend Mass. I did attend this morning, and since there is no specific saint mentioned it is a good time to remember the saints that are important to us.

The saint I chose for my confirmation name is St. Elen (of Caernarfon). I wrote about her back when I was going through my sacraments.

Last week was my annual fall retreat, and today I get to tell you about one of the unexpected directions I was sent on during that week: the National Shrine of St. Kateri Tekakwitha.

She was one of the three saints I considered for my confirmation before I was finally led to St. Elen.

I contemplated having St. Kateri because:

She was local,
She was Native American, and
Her name began with a K like mine.

When I read her story what stood out to me was how she was the only Christian among her relatives, and that struck a chord with me during my conversion. I was the only one moved to follow Jesus Christ, and so was the only one talking about Scriptural things. Obviously, I wasn’t trying to convert my family, but that single similarity stayed with me.

At four, Kateri lost her immediate family to a small pox outbreak. She had contracted the virus, and was left scarred by her illness. Upon her death, witnesses say her scars disappeared.

She appeared to three people in the days after her death, and one year later, she appeared again to Father Chauchetière who painted what is considered the oldest portrait of the saint:

Two of the four National Shrines that honor St. Kateri are in two small nearby villages in upstate New York about a five hour drive south from her burial place in Quebec.

I had heard of Kateri before I became a Catholic, but really only knew that she had been beatified and her place was local. I’ve had a strong connection to Native Americans since I was a child. I think I find myself drawn to cultures other than my own. I had just begun attending Mass when Kateri was canonized in 2012. I received a wallet card from the Shrine as they celebrated her canonization and our whole Diocese celebrated, and I’ve carried that with me since that day in October.

That day in October also held an unrelated significance for me as well: it was the original due date of my middle child, who decided to be two weeks early, lucky for both of us since as it was, the day he was born I was in labor for two days, unbeknownst to me.

I had no intention of traveling to a saint’s shrine on my retreat, but when I glanced at a map and saw how close it was to where I had been on Saturday, I realized that I didn’t have many opportunities to visit something so significant, and since she did have some inspiration for me, I was excited to go once it had been pointed out to me.

It was raining when I got there, so I browsed around the gift shop until it was a light enough mist for me to walk around. The buildings of the shrine close this weekend for the winter (because none of the buildings have heat), so my timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I plan to return when they have one of their events through the spring and summer.

I wandered through the museum first and then upstairs to St. Peter’s Chapel, which is a commemoration to the chapel that Kateri was baptized in. The nearby spring that was used to baptize her (and other converts at that time) still flows. Visitors claim healings and cures after drawing from the holy spring and praying for intercession by St. Kateri.

She lived in the village up the hill for most of her life. It is currently the only completely excavated Iroquois site in the country. Although the area had a history, it hadn’t been a shrine to her until Pope St. John Paul II beatified her in 1980.

The air was cool, the mist was wet and the sky was grey. I hadn’t realized until last week how much that type of weather is my weather. Very often I talk about my trip to Wales; more like pilgrimage, and when something reminds me of Wales, it is much more than the anecdote of a week’s vacation. There are so many non-religious, spiritual things associated with the simple phrase, it reminds me of Wales.

The fact that walking around the wet grass, seeing the bright yet muted oranges and reds against the greens, browns and greys as light played off the puddles was so reminiscent of my Wales that I had to sit and catch my breath. I was also moved to sit for quite a while in the chapel reading James Martin’s second prayer. The spirit was truly with me on this day. It was the perfect reading for the place; a perfect place to meditate on the Gospel, on Fr. Martin’s reflections, and to feel my own.

I walked.

I sat.

I prayed.

I meditated.

It was very consoling; reassuring of all that is right in the world.

It was exceptionally reflective and it gave me the impulse and the space to be reflective.

It reminded me of why I became a Catholic as well as why I became a writer. Both are similar answers even though they don’t come easily to the conscious mind: I can’t be anything else. Neither was anything that I was looking for, but instead they found me. Both are faith driven, both are involuntary, instinctive, and they both need caring to keep them potent.

Let me share the beauty of St. Kateri Tekakwitha’s Shrine with you: