What can we learn from Arctic Christians?
Northern church characterized by powerful experiences
DEBRA
FIEGUTH
CW Senior Writer
A few days into my northern exposure, a young man asked me what was the most significant thing I had noticed so far in my visit. I didn’t know how to answer at first: I was too busy processing an overwhelming load of information, emotional outpouring and spiritual expression, not to mention dealing with culture shock, language barriers and climate change. (Besides, I was the one asking the questions, not answering them.)
But his question forced me to think about it. First, what I witnessed over eight days of meetings was a people who were in awe of the holiness of God. Several times during the conference individuals would go forward and prostrate themselves; or they would bow their whole bodies, knees and foreheads touching the floor. This was especially moving to watch while the several hundred people in the Akulivik community centre were singing “How Great Thou Art” in Inuktitut. These physical actions said much about their spiritual attitude: they know God is holy and requires their whole-hearted adoration.
Second, seemingly unconcerned about showing too much emotion, Inuit Christians openly wailed and wept, at times in repentance for their own sin, at other times in pain from sin committed against them.
Several leaders I talked to commented on the deep pain many people still experience from wounds that go back over generations: forced relocation, famine, violence arising from the introduction of alcohol, sexual abuse, rampant suicide. Many northern communities are only beginning to come to grips with the wounds of the past. Acknowledgement of deep emotional pain is part of that process.
The third thing I noticed was the unmitigated joy radiating from believers for what God has done for them. Spontaneous dancing, running, jumping, hooting and hollering were some of the expressions of joy.
Joyful givers
And this spilled over into their giving. At each session one of the organizers would place a large rubber lid from a garbage bin on the floor, and conference-goers would come forward joyfully, singing while they tossed their bills–including 20s and 50s–into the lid. No receipts were offered or asked for. In the end the conference collected about $10,000 from the 400 or so people there to help with expenses. Considering most Inuit don’t have a high income, and the cost of living is extremely high, the giving was sacrificial.
Joy was also in abundance at a Tuesday afternoon baptism that saw almost 50 people go under the water in a makeshift wooden tank lined with a dark green tarp, only to emerge again with radiant faces, arms outstretched, sometimes shrieking with happiness.
Fourth, I was surprised at how many people talked about having visions. Some were prophetic, some were comforting, some were convicting. Moses Idlout, an Anglican minister in Inukjuak, Quebec, says he started seeing a vision of a fire moving from north to south when he was only nine years old.
That vision has persisted, and now he sees the time when his prophecy will be fulfilled. “What the Lord is doing here, we need to bring to the South.”
None of these things–the awe, the emotion, the joy, the visions–was foreign to me. They are all evident in one way or another in the southern church. But the intensity of all of them combined was what made my brief foray to the church of the Arctic a powerful experience.
An extra dose of any of these characteristics could not hurt the church in the South.