Part 1: Setting the Stage
Residential Schools, Canadian Churches, and Corporal Punishment
1
A Prophetic Call to Churches in Canada
Mark MacDonald
When Navajo people describe the sun, they talk about the sun bearer. The sun bearer is pictured as a young man who carries a turquoise disk on his shoulder, and the turquoise disk is lit with grandmother fire. The teaching that comes with this story is that in order to be successful in life, you must carry highâas high as possible in your lifeâthe teaching of your Elders, and specifically the teaching of your grandmothers.
I would like to begin by honouring the Indigenous Elders who have given to me my basic understanding of the things we examine here in this book. The Eldersâ affirmation of the sacred and divine character of children is primary to this work. It is my prayer that their prophetic hope and love for children will guide us in our confrontation with past and present evils, as well as inspire and direct our future for the good.
It is my honour and task to set this volume within the larger trajectory of Canadaâs truth and reconciliation movement. To trace the forces that have been animated by the work of Canadaâs Truth and Reconciliation Commission is to outline a significant path for healing in our hearts and in our society. It is my prayer and my hope that this volume will contribute to the larger healing now offered to Canada.
The Residential Schools
Before we can set a course for healing, we must look at the meaning of the residential school system. A massive systemic evil in themselves, the residential schools were a part of the broader systemic evil that is called colonialism. For our purpose in this narrative it is more than important to recognize that the churches were an animating partner in both the broader system of colonialism and the evil of the residential schools. The churches were an essential part of the colonial system, often providing the ideological pretext and an ongoing defence for colonialism and the schools. They not only participated in the functioning of colonial institutions, but as with the residential schools, they were an integral part of their supporting framework.
It is difficult to comprehend and explain the churchesâ participation in the massive evil of colonialism, much less to fully admit and acknowledge the dynamics of our role in it. In the residential schools, our immediate concern here, the churches acted in direct contradiction to some of their most central and essential values and beliefs. We must never forget that children were the primary victims of this system. Despite the present-day widespread agreement that the schools were wrong, our institutional capacity to explain such behaviour remains limited, and our acknowledgement of its meaning is blunted.
Because of the way in which personal autonomy has captivated modern thought, we tend to view evil as a matter of individual personal choice. A widespread evil is attributed to a great number of individual bad choices. But this is not completely helpful in explaining institutional and systemic evil. In the case of the residential schools, for instance, we might look for the villains and perpetrators, but although they are certainly present in this story, the collapse of morality involved goes far beyond the behaviours of a few, or even many. The quest to identify individual actors in an evil system, while very important, often fails to reveal the depth and breadth of systemic evil and the institutional corruption that results from it. The evil is a part of the structure of the system; it is in the very framework that allows the system to exist. The legality and governing structure of the system holds the evil, as we see in the case at hand. The evil is perpetuated by the system and only dependent upon the moral slumber of its participants and perpetrators.
The story of the residential schools is, therefore, both the story of an overriding of individual choice and the complicity of an entire institutional community. That there were many well-intentioned individuals in the schools is without doubt. The truth remains that all participated in a system of great evil.
Because our analysis of systemic evil tends to be stunted, our remedies are often meagre. After an appropriate apology, we change policy and procedures. As critical as that is, it may not be sufficient to redress the evil involved. This is only an initial step in the direction of full-hearted repentance and reconciliation.
Christian scripture helps us with a more sophisticated understanding of systemic evil by way of its description of the Principalities and Powers:1 what today we would call the ideologies, idols, and images that are the source and strength of systemic evil. The Principalities and Powers, in their promotion of their own supremacy and in their proud rebellion against God, result in the individual and communal corruption that is the enemy of life. They become the very opposite of Godâs way in creation. By their name, they describe the way evil can animate and inhabit an entire society and culture, its law, structures of governance, and culture.
The way of life that we find in Jesus is in fundamental conflict with the Principalities and Powers, and so with systemic evil. The Apostle Paul, for instance, sees the critical engagement with these forces as a central part of the Christian life and a necessary prelude to the world that God has promised in Christ. The freedom from these forces and their pervasive grip on societies are a part of the liberty offered in Christ. In contrast to this, the surrender of the churches to the Principalities and Powers in the evil of colonialism is a measure of our distance, and perhaps our severe alienation, from our ideal. What is revealed in the story of the residential schools is a deep moral wound that continues to threaten Indigenous children and children in general in Canada.
It is within a more comprehensive understanding of systemic evil, in keeping with what I have described above, that the churches begin their reconstruction and repair. It is critical that we understand something of the forces in which we have participated and those from which we must be freed to live into our values and our ideal. Some awareness of where we have failed in this regard is a necessary companion to our moving forward in truth and reconciliation, and with it, in the reconstruction of the moral capacity of churches and society.
It is significant both to our understanding of systemic evil and to our particular concerns in this volume to remember that this evil was directed toward children. This reveals something of the character and morality of the systemic evil involved, and it reveals a deep vulnerability of Indigenous children in a colonial system. That Indigenous children are still disproportionately vulnerable to poverty and violence is an indication of the continuing grip of this systemic evil. At the same time, the fact that the legal framework of the abuse is still intact reveals that there is a vulnerability of children in general that needs to be addressed.
Reconciliation
Roman Catholic theologian Robert Schreiter has studied truth and reconciliation events all around the world.2 He makes the critical observation that reconciliation never happens because an oppressor has decided to be good. Reflecting on Schreiterâs writings, I have come to understand that reconciliation happens when an oppressed people act to reclaim their humanity. In this action, they move from being victims to being survivors. In becoming survivors, they create change that has deep and lasting effect; they release forces that lead to life.
As we can see in the case of the residential school survivors, the reclaiming of humanity sets in motion many different forces that are legal, personal, and societal. The survivorsâ legal actions, for instance, led to the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and its process. The survivorsâ personal courage and dedication to the truth have ensured that the story of the residential schools will be told and no longer hidden. Though their reclaiming of humanity has deeply personal consequences for individual survivors, we witness that the larger society is also challenged with an opportunity for healing and growth. This is particularly true for the churches.
For those who have been involved with the oppression, the truth and reconciliation process offers an opportunity for the repair of the humanity defaced by participation in systemic evil. In short, repentance can lead to institutional and societal renewal. For the churches, repentance can mean the rediscovery of the grace and truth that gave birth to the Christian movement. If it is to be real and effective, this rediscovery is woven together by a vigilant humility. The perpetual institutional recognition that we have the capacity for great evil must lead to a constant watchfulness in the protection of the vulnerable.
Truth and reconciliation is, therefore, more than an attempt to deal with the past. It is fundamentally concerned with the future. It is concerned with a vision and definition of what a reconstructed society looks like. Though it is about adopting policies and protocols that resist the evils of the past, it is also about the positive shape of a society where humanity has been repaired.
The truth and reconciliation process has released forces of systemic good in our churches and in the larger society. Through this process, we can trace a trajectory of healing in our midst. The specifics of the Calls to Action provide a framework, a path, and a measure of the way that the trajectory of healing is being received in society and in the churches. Specifically for our work, we point to Call to Action 6 of the Truth and Reconciliationâs ninety-four Calls to Action: âWe call upon the Government of Canada to repeal Section 43 of the Criminal Code of Canada.â3
It is very simple; very short.
Section 43 has offered the legal justification for using âreasonable forceâ in correcting the behaviour of children. Its repeal would remove the defence that parents and other caregivers might use in the abuse of children. The continuing presence of Section 43 reveals a weakness in our society in the protection of children. It is, in its failure to protect children from abuse, a statement of the devaluation of the humanity of children in the structure of our society. As long as it remains, Section 43 leaves intact some of the basic legal conditions that contributed to the operation of the residential schools. It is the living and dangerous remnant of a particularly distressing aspect of the horror of the schools: the physical abuse of children.
We can see that the repeal of Section 43 is an essential part of a basic and minimal commitment to a new society. It is, however, only the first step toward that new society. In order to dismantle the oppression and step into a new way of life, the repeal of Section 43 causes us to imagine more. We are called upon to imagine the way we want all children to be treated. We are called to live into a new way of being a society: one that receives and cherishes the full humanity of all its members, especially children.
So, this is our task. We are to weave together the repeal of Section 43 with a robust understanding of our need to protect the vulnerable. Interwoven with this is a heightened awareness of the ongoing vulnerability of Indigenous children in a society that is only beginning to detect the corruption of life that is the result of a still-present colonialism. This is an important element. For many Canadians, colonialism speaks of the past. For Indigenous people, colonialism is an ongoing and present reality, and understanding this is essential to understanding the task of responding fully to the ninety-four Calls to Action. Still more, there must beâwith the repeal of Section 43âa positive statement of our understanding of the importance and value of all children and the need for our society to provide the care, nurture, and protection that their human digni...