Dave Eckert from the Canoe Family Project and the Corvallis Sustainability Coalition shared his reflection, “Learning to be a Neighbor in the Land of the People of the River” for today’s sermon. Dave’s message invited us to contemplate how we acknowledge and respond to the history of land stolen from Indigenous peoples, and the music in today’s service is meant to mirror that same journey, moving through awareness, intention, action, and transformation.
The prelude drew from the UU hymnals, including “There’s a River Flowing” and “Shall We Gather at the River”, in keeping with the sermon’s river theme. After “Shall We Gather at the River” got us in the mood for some gospel music, our first song for gathering – “Hush, Hush, Somebody’s Calling My Name” – followed, serving as an invitation, both into the sanctuary as we began our time together, and also an invitation to listen to the land, to the rivers, to history, and to voices that have too often been silenced. Our second song for gathering, “I’m On My Way”, got our energy flowing and helped transition from the idea of listening to getting started. What can we do? How can we deal our feelings about stolen land and the injustices of the past? What opportunities are available to help us learn and grow?
“We’ll Build a Land” became a call to action when paired with Dave’s sharing of the performances, activities, and opportunities available that have helped him learn, grow, celebrate cultural exchanges, and pay his respects as a way to acknowledge the wrongs that were committed and contribute to a more harmonious future. If we all look for ways to repair, make amends, and live and learn together peacefully, we can build a world that honors all people and the earth.
I played Beth Nielsen Chapman’s “Sand and Water” for today’s offertory, which in itself is a beautiful song, but also felt very appropriate for today’s message. Its poignant text (excerpts below) holds space for grief and change – both subjects that were prevalent in Dave’s remarks. The removal of Indigenous peoples was more than just the taking of land; it was the deliberate destruction of these tribes’ physical, spiritual, cultural, and ecological world, which has caused lasting damage and trauma for centuries. This history is tragic and shameful, but just like water can shape sand into stone, our actions today can make for a better history by carving paths for growth, respect, and deeper connection.
All alone, I didn’t like the feeling
All alone, I sat and cried
All alone, I had to find some meaning
In the center of the pain I felt inside.
All alone, I came into the world
All alone, I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water, and a million years gone by.
Our final hymn was “Be Ours a Religion”, encouraging us to, in words heard often over the years at the Fellowship, “Let everything we do be done with love”. A religion that “goes everywhere” helps us become the kind of people who love freely, honor the land and its original people, build communities of respect, and move toward justice and healing.
The postlude “As I went Down to the River to Pray” is a tune I played somewhat recently, during the Gathering of the Waters. I normally try keep my musical rotation large and varied so there is a wide range of music for Sunday services, but the imagery of cleansing, community, renewal, and of course a river made this song feel like an apt ending for today’s service. Through these songs and messages, we’re invited into a living practice of neighborliness; one that listens deeply, springs to action, builds courageously, and returns again and again to gratitude and respect. Here in the land of the People of the River, may we keep learning how to be good neighbors to one another, and to this place we call home.
