As I write these lines, the calendar says it is Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, and I’m in a reflective mood.
Since my introduction to American Indians came via a round-screened Zenith television set in the mid 1950s, I viewed them through the prism of western movies and TV shows. Only later did I discover that the images conveyed were caricatures.
On November 22 of last year, I had the privilege of preaching at Samaria Baptist Church in Charles City while the pastor, Claude Evans, was away. Samaria is historically an Indian Baptist church begun by the Chickahominy tribe. I say historically because a few years ago this courageous congregation took a major step based not on the preferences of their membership, but on the commission of their Christ. They decided to cease being an “Indian” church only and become, instead, a church open to all races — including whites.
Jim White
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Now, for the benefit of those on the leading edge of political correctness, who have already been offended by my use of the term “Indian” rather than “Native American,” I have been assured by Stephen Adkins, chief of the Chickahominy tribe, that Indians, themselves, do not prefer one term over another as both terms were applied to them by outsiders. That out of the way, I’ll proceed.
The Samaria Baptist Church, where Chief Adkins is a Sunday school teacher and deacon, observed that new houses and subdivisions were being built in the area around the church and that the newcomers were largely white. Rather than dig in their heels and resist this change, they decided to embrace it and welcome the newcomers in the spirit of Christ.
This wasn’t an easy choice for them. Wronged people have longer memories than offenders. Adkins, who serves as chief deputy director of the Department of Human Resources Management for the state, invited me to lunch and to tour the Indian exhibit in the state capitol extension. He challenged me to become more informed about Indian history as we examined photographs of his father and grandfather who were also chiefs of the tribe. I promised I would, and I have.
To say it is not a pretty picture doesn’t begin to describe the horrors and insufferable indignities inflicted upon those peoples native to this land. Promise after promise made to them was broken; treaties were often nothing more than legalized methods of swindle; and betrayals were the rule. Because they had no voice in government and were militarily out-matched by superior weapons, the Indians’ choices were limited. They could capitulate or fight back.
One Cheyenne chief called Black Kettle believed that only by demonstrating their loyalty to America could they survive. For his peacemaking efforts among his people he was given medals by the President and a large American flag by the army. He was flying that flag above his tipi along with a white one he waved on the morning of November 29, 1864, when Col. John Chivington, a part-time Methodist preacher, ordered his men to attack and without mercy to kill every person in the Sand Creek camp.
Only 53 of the 163 killed that morning were men and most of those were too old to fight. The other men had been sent by Black Kettle to hunt game for food. These 163 souls were savagely hacked down and mutilated. Some soldiers cut the private parts from their victims to keep as decorations and trophies of “war.” Black Kettle survived by fleeing.
Sand Creek, and other betrayals, caused some Indians to fight back — to attack farms and forts and wagon trains — but they knew they could not win. They fought from anger and frustration and pride, hoping to get the government to negotiate in good faith. At length, all resistance was crushed.
In voting to open their church to whites, Samaria church members chose to live above the history they knew so well. They also chose, for the sake of Christ’s kingdom, to disregard the individual slights they had personally encountered and the prejudices they had endured. How did they receive me, one doubly blessed or burdened with whiteness of skin and name? The answer: As a brother in the Lord. As a friend.
On Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, it is good to affirm a church in which King’s dream of equality and promise is being fulfilled. But it is a dream even beyond King’s that motivates Samaria Baptist. It is the vision of heaven given to the Apostle John by Christ. “After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: ‘Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb’ ” (Rev. 7:9-10).
I am confident that pastor Evans and deacon Adkins and the rest of Samaria Baptist would be quick to say they are not perfect. Since they are human beings, I am inclined to agree. But I see much in this church I like.
For example, Samaria Baptist chose mission over comfort. It is comforting to be among people like us. We understand them, for the most part. It is hard to choose mission because what the church does ceases to be about us. Mission says, “This is what the Lord wants.” Comfort says, “This is what I want.” Their vision of what can be, in Christ, pushes them onward.
Also, the church has chosen the way of grace. When it could have opted to hold on to past hurts, they chose instead to let go of those things that divide us and embrace those beliefs that unite us as brothers. In other words, they refused to be prejudiced toward those who had been prejudiced against them.
A good lesson for every person and every church.
Jim White is editor of the Religious Herald.