A Fiery Experience, Five Years Ago

It was Wednesday, March 6, 2013, the middle day of the first week of my Spring Break during my senior year at Valparaiso University.

I was in a large vehicle with a group of college students and community members from St. Teresa's in Valparaiso.  We were spending a week in northeast Nebraska at St. Augustine Mission in Winnebago in service to the aboriginal peoples of northeast Nebraska on the Winnebago and Omaha Reservations, which you can read more about in a post I published on my blog a few days ago.

As the sun headed towards its setting, it shined full blast in a cloudless sky over the hills of northeast Nebraska as we head towards a small town called Rosalie.  We were headed to the home of Nathan, in whose backyard we were to experience something epic like never before in our lives: the Sweat Lodge ceremony, steeped into the traditions of the aboriginal American people, and regarded as a purification rite.

It was rather quiet inside the vehicle, as there was a general feeling of nervousness among us, for we weren't really sure what to expect.

We arrived at Nathan's place, where a group gathers regularly on Wednesday evenings at 6:30 to participate in this ceremony, and gather ourselves inside a small shelter in the backyard.  Father Dave, then the priest at St. Augustine, was inside, for he would join us for the ceremony.  Three of the four chaperones with our group made preparations for the dinner we were to have after the ceremony, while one of them joined the 8 of us students.  After a few minutes, Richard, the leader of the ceremony, spoke with us.  He asked who was doing this for the first time.  The hands of all in our group go up, and it was striking moment as I took stock of how we all had in common the experience of going through this ceremony for the first time.  He then shared a little bit more about what will happen, and says that if it got too uncomfortable for us, we could step out.

We then step outside the shelter and enter the Sweat Lodge, which is basically a small hut, with a frame and covered by heavy blankets.

In the St. Augustine Museum is a model of what a traditional Sweat Lodge looks like, with animal hides over a frame of wooden sticks--it's just to the center of the photo, with the animal hide lifted up.  The sweat lodge we were in had large, heavy blankets covering it.

Outside the Sweat Lodge was a fire where volcanic rocks were being heated.  We sat down in two concentric circles in the hut.  A few other people from the local community joined us, and so there were about 17 people inside.  Inside the hut was a pit.  The volcanic rocks were brought into the pit.  Richard poured water on the rocks to create steam.  The flap on the entrance to the hut was closed, and we entered into darkness, pierced only by the glow of the rocks.  Richard led a series of chants.  The heat intensified:  Later, the one chaperone who joined us estimated the temperature inside got to about 115 degrees Fahrenheit--similar to a sauna.  Someone later described it as sensory overload, which is fitting, with the sound of chanting and praying, the smell of the scented plant material placed on the rocks to create fragrant steam, and most especially the immense heat.

We had a few people talk with us about the Sweat Lodge ceremony.  While I initially felt rather unnerved to hear we would be participating in the ceremony, as we spent time hearing more about it, I became much more comfortable with the idea of participating.  But I still wasn't sure if I was going to be able to withstand the heat, and if I would, indeed, have to step out of the Sweat Lodge.

In our conversations before this evening, one person remarked that to help us through the intense heat, we should focus on our prayers.  While this ceremony is traditionally part of offering prayers to the aboriginal American gods, Nathan insisted on this Sweat Lodge being a Chapel, where we offer prayers to God, since he is Roman Catholic.

So as the heat intensified, I began praying for my various intentions as I buried by face in my towel--while normally it would feel stuffy inside the towel, that stuffiness was more bearable that keeping my face in the heat.

After a period of time, the entrance flap was opened, finishing one round.  The chanting stopped, and the floor was opened for anyone to express her/himself.  At some point--and it may have been earlier than this moment--Richard invited his sister Gloria to share with the females in the group about how they could participate in their own unique way, as he did once before.  When there was no response, he remarked that Gloria did not have to share if she did not feel comfortable.  Then some others spoke and said she wasn't even inside the Sweat Lodge.  Light laughter ensued, breaking the nervousness that had taken hold of those in our group.

After more volcanic rocks were brought into the pit inside, water was poured over them, along with scented plant material, and the flap was closed again, starting round 2.  As the chanting started up again, I started praying, even as I buried my face in my towel to get my face out of the heat.

Once round 2 ended, the flap was opened.  In addition to people expressing themselves, a laddle with cool water was passed around for people to drink and relieve themselves.

Round 3 started, and when it finished, the flap was opened.  There were no more volcanic rocks brought in before the final round, but a peace pipe was passed around.  When the flap closed, we were pretty much in near total darkness.

As each round concluded, I grew more confident that I could withstand the heat and endure through the entire ceremony.

And what a feeling it was when round 4 ended, and the ceremony had reached its conclusion, after about 90 minutes.  Exiting the sweat lodge was like a symbol of emerging from the womb and being born into the world.  As we did so, we were to utter the phrase, "All my relations."  How appropriate to think that I went through this symbolic exit just 10 days before my birthday when I turned 22.

I exited the sweat lodge with an amazing feeling of empowerment.  My friend Sarah asked me how I felt, and I said, "Like never before."

After we had the chance to change back into our regular clothes, we went to dinner.  It was clear we had really been through something, as I noticed the faces of the people in our group were rather red--and I assume mine was, even though I never saw my face right afterwards.  Richard opened up the floor for people to express themselves.  I was so moved that I instantly piped up and said I wanted to express myself, and went on for at least a couple of minutes to share how profound this experience had been.

Once we finished dinner, we got back into our vehicles and headed back to St. Augustine.  The mood was totally different as we drove back through the night, because we were all so talkative about what we had just been through.

I had truly demonstrated my ability to endure the heat inside the Sweat Lodge, which speaks to how we endure the difficulties of life.  Even when circumstances intensify against us, and are almost unbearable, we turn to God in prayer, focusing on Him against everything that is against us, and looking unto Him, we are confident in trusting Him to help us overcome.  And as we offer our difficulties to God, He somehow works through them to strengthen us, like the refining of gold in fire, so that we come out as more holy people, purified of our sins.

In this Sweat Lodge ceremony, I also had the extraordinary opportunity to experience such strong solidarity with the aboriginal Native American peoples, by embracing so closely an important part of their traditions, which so many had sought to quash in the past:  Indeed, we had heard stories in the past few days from community members about these efforts, which even nuns at the St. Augustine Mission had taken part of, as they collaborated with the US government to forcibly separate aboriginal Americans from their cultural identity.  Yet, somehow, they survived, in part, as Nathan pointed out later, because they banded together in living together on the reservations.  And they continue to assert and embrace their identity by engaging in practices such as the Sweat Lodge, as I'm sure they will do when they gather tomorrow evening.

I gained new perspective on what it means to be human, and how a people has managed to retain their identity despite forces working to stamp out that identity.

And I enhanced my own character and identity as well, while also embracing it, especially considering the shirt I wore:

Above is the front of the shirt I wore into the Sweat Lodge, the photographic evidence of my endurance.  I must point out, though, that the sweat is all the way down to the belly part of the shirt because  while pressing my face into my towel, I pressed it into my knees, which made the sweat accumulate more on the front than on the back (please see photo below), where it only went down to the part of the shirt by the bottom of my shoulder blades.  Despite having a use I wasn't fond of back in middle school, its role in my time in the Sweat Lodge has pretty much made it a quasi-sacred object.

I kept my physical education clothes with me in college to use as work-out clothes, and I brought them with me for the express purpose of wearing in the Sweat Lodge ceremony.  It was so special to have with me something bearing the name of my beloved Julian, the most significant experience in my years growing up, as part of one of the most profound experiences happening in my young adult life, as part of a trip that enhanced my strong sense of personal faith, which was first forged so strongly during my days at Julian.

And how fitting to bring it full circle exactly five years later to the very time period coinciding with the Sweat Lodge ceremony, when, before my Tuesday evening RE students, the venue in which I put my faith into action, I shared this story as part of describing how God purifies us from sin to be righteous before Him, and how He transforms our difficulties into something glorious as we look unto Him in the midst of them.

It truly amazing to marvel at the marvelous ways God works in our lives.