In one of the churches I served in upstate New York, there was an extended family–we’ll call them the Smiths, even though that’s not their real name. The Smiths were a four-generation family in the church. There were the grandparents, then the parents who had three adult children, and the adult children’s spouses and their children. All in all, a nice sized tribe. 

The funny thing is that whenever the church had a potluck, the Smiths would come a little early and scout out a table–one large enough for the whole family to sit together at the meal! Mind you, the Smiths ate dinner together every Sunday after church. And at every holiday. And at many other times as well. 

Here was an opportunity for them to sit with some other people in the church, or with newcomers. But no, the Smiths gathered at the Smith table! They ate together and socialized among themselves.

The point of my story is that loyalty to tribe runs deep. Given a chance to mingle with other people, to meet new people, to be hospitable or welcoming, the Smiths preferred to stick together.  

*****

The person whose story I am going to tell is a young woman who became a Christian, which set her apart from her family and tribe, even though she remained true and good to them during all of her short life. Being a Christian sometimes means that we have to differentiate ourselves–define our beliefs and commitments, apart from “our” people, even while staying connected to them.

Kateri Tekakwitha is someone you’ve likely never heard of. Kateri was her baptismal name, the Mohawk version of Catherine, which is the name she adopted at her baptism. Tekakwitha is a Mohawk word that means “bumps into things.” She was called Catherine who bumps into things!

Kateri was born in 1656 in the Mohawk Valley of what is today upstate New York.  Her mother was an Algonquin Indian who had converted to Christianity in her youth and her father was a Mohawk chief (the Mohawk were one of the five tribes of the Iroquois nation). 

When Kateri was four years old, her parents and older brother died in a smallpox epidemic which ravaged their village. She survived, but was left disfigured by large pocks on her face. Her vision was also severely compromised. That’s where she got the name Tekakwitha. She always walked with her hands in front of her because she could not see very well. And she remained in poor health for the rest of her life.   

Orphaned, she went to live in her uncle’s household. Stories say that she was withdrawn due to her disfigurement and that she often wrapped herself in a blanket to hide her face from onlookers. She spent her time helping the women of her village cook meals, collect berries from the woods, make baskets, and string native beads called wampums.  

Kateri stood apart from her community in several ways. When she came of marriageable age, despite her uncle’s wishes, she refused any proposal for marriage. This was unheard of for a young Native American girl. During this same time, through conversations with a missionary priest, she was attracted to the story of Jesus Christ, finding great comfort in it. She came to faith and at the age of 19 was baptized.  She dedicated her life to God. 

This did not please her uncle and the community.  Her conversion created opposition and anger. On the advice of a priest, Kateri stole away one night and began a 200-mile walking journey north, to a Christian Indian village near Montreal. She lived there for the next five or six years, giving herself to God in hours of prayer and caring for the sick and elderly. Always frail of health due to her childhood smallpox, at the young age of 24, she became ill again and died. 

Kateri’s story is one that brings into clear view the ambiguity of Christian missionary activity. On the one hand there is the uncomfortable reality that the gospel often came to people along with the conquering or greedy spirit of  colonialism.  These same people brought sicknesses that devastated the native population.  It also created division and strife among the evangelized peoples, splitting tribes and families. 

On the other hand, there are many stories of people like Kateri whose lives were transformed and made new by the message of Jesus Christ that these missionaries brought.  

*****

In my mid-teens growing up in Japan, a spiritual experience set me on a trajectory and journey that brought me not just to the United States, but into the Reformed Church, and into 37 years of pastoral ministry.

For a time in my teens I attended a Japanese church that had been started by a Swiss missionary. We worshipped in Japanese and most of the other worshippers were Japanese. While I’m appreciative of that church, one of the things that always made me uncomfortable was that the Japanese Christians were frequently told their faith should put them at odds with their families, their background, and their culture. 

It is true that being a Christian in Japan often strains some of those connections. Still, the unspoken message was that Japanese Christians had to cut off from their families and “leave their tribe.” We of European descent were never expected to do this. There was never any sense that our faith would put us at odds with our background. Something didn’t feel right.

Nonetheless, I have spent a lifetime metabolizing split allegiances and belonging to different tribes. I felt it with my family, which found my faith and my allegiance to Christ “odd.” It has been a continual challenge to define myself and my faith authentically, while remaining graciously connected to family and culture. I suppose it has only been heightened by my living in the US–and eventually becoming a US citizen–when most of my family lived in France. 

In my journey, I think of Kateri Tekakwitha. Kateri never stopped being an Native American even as she became a Christian. She continued to practice all the arts of her culture. She loved her people deeply. She cared for the sick and elderly. No doubt her faith caused friction and it did set her apart. But she never rejected her tribe or people completely. Despite her own frail health and her community’s resistance, she bore witness to the presence and love of Christ.  

Our times are fraught with tribalisms of all kinds–political, religious, social. As Christians we need to be cautious about telling others what they must sacrifice for Christ. Instead, let us first ask those same hard questions of ourselves. What tribes do we belong to that might be at odds with our loyalty to Christ?

In reality, we all belong to multiple tribes. And that’s okay–just as Kateri could be a Christian while remaining a Native American. But it is a question of loyalty, and that our trust in Jesus overtakes and limits any and all other loyalties. 

The story of Kateri Tekakwitha is the story of a young and frail woman who gave her life to Christ despite many obstacles. It is a story of conversion and dedication. It is a story that invites each of us to look at our own lives–it’s joys and sorrows and circumstances and consider what it means to follow Jesus and to give our lives to him.  

Header photo by Askar Abayev on Pexels