3 Paths to Spiritual Survival

How do we maintain spiritual strength in the modern world? There is no easy answer.

One reason I appreciate attending Catholic Mass is the ritual and ceremony involved. The incense is strong, and the symbolism is omnipresent. Even when I disagree with many things a priest says during a sermon, something is gratifying about a group coming together in worship – in humility.

My first experience of ritual and group worship was the sweat lodge (“inipi” or “sacred place”), and my second was the ayahuasca ceremony. Despite the age of all these traditions, coming together in shared humility seems a rebellious act in the modern world. Younger generations are adopting non-religious, agnostic, or atheist worldviews. This isn’t necessarily “bad”, but it is unprecedented.

We are living in the darkness between worlds, stumbling in the dark, bumping into practices and perspectives from the past while falling face-first into the unknown of modernity.

Something is missing. We all feel it.

This same inner inquiry was familiar to Indigenous people throughout the Americas after the arrival of Europeans. A continent with 60-80 million was altered by disease and military subjugation. By 1600, there were only 6-10 million remaining:

How do we face the modern, rapidly changing world? How do we survive spiritually?

Three Native American men provide me with insights.

#1. Sitting Bull – Opt Out

Sitting Bull was a Lakota war chief who fought against the U.S. Military in the late 19th century. He led the Battle on the Little Bighorn, the most famous American defeat during all the Indian wars.

While harsh northern winters and military actions forced natives onto Reservations, Sitting Bull represented the voice of “I refuse.” Neither he nor his followers would adopt farming, settle down, or stop their nomadic and warring ways.

His was an act of armed, violent rebellion. He and his people were not changing their ways and any compulsion to do so was met with firm boundaries. We lionize those who fight for their beliefs, but it is hard to imagine the incredible force Sitting Bull faced. To him, it was a struggle of annihilation. Living in the physical world without access to his spiritual world wasn’t worthwhile.

This route of facing spiritual devastation is often the most challenging and complete but can also be deeply gratifying. Communities like the Amish or Mennonites have thoroughly chosen this path (through abstinenance rather than violence). Individuals like Paul Kingsnorth live without smartphones, and writers like Wendell Berry use no computers.

This is a deeply committed path and not for the faint of heart.

#2. Plenty Coup – Adapt

Plenty Coup was a Crow tribal leader who had apocalyptic dreams of a future overtaken by European settlers. He underwent a humbling journey of allying himself and his people with the U.S. Army. The Crow adopted elements of American culture to preserve their own.

Plenty Coup was the voice of “I cannot resist an unstoppable force. Let me align myself with it to preserve my ways.”

This is the path of adopting aspects of modernity, knowing that we sacrifice part of ourselves.

For the Crow, the sacrifice was great. One of their greatest spiritual practices was the Sun Dance, a war ceremony. When their dance was lost, they adopted the Nez Perce steps. Ironically, they have adopted the war dance of their sworn enemies— the same one Nez Perce used before killing the Crow a few hundred years ago.

Is it worth it?

When I spend time on the Crow reservation and speak to their elders, it is hard to know. They can still hunt in the Bighorn mountains, land they have been granted more generously than their Lakota neighbors. This provides a keyhole view into their ancestral culture. For a short moment, they can hunt bison as their ancestors have for hundreds of years.

#3. Ohiyesa – Transform

Ohiyesa was Dakota and the son of a warrior who converted to Christianity. As Ohiyesa followed the path of Anglo-Americans, he adopted their culture. He attended Boston University School of Medicine, was the first doctor on the reservation, and became a devout Christian.

In 1890, when so-called Christians massacred 250 women and children at Wounded Knee, Ohiyesa was the only medical provider for the wounded. He saw face-to-face the racism and hatred that Christians were capable of.

He did not renounce the faith; instead, he saw its universality. More importantly, he saw the redemptive value of the story of Christ independent of the organized religion.

Ohiyesa was the voice of “This juggernaut is powerful for a reason. Let me adopt the true and good elements while rejecting that which does not serve.”

Ohiyesa's faith, especially when confronted with the darkness of his adopted culture, is inspiring. His radical forgiveness reflects his grace. Plenty Coup's forethought in adapting to the unknown was a great act of courage. It gave his people remnants of their culture in a different world. For Sitting Bull, his commitment to uncompromising his beliefs and way of life is a measure of strength and leadership.

Each man inspires me. A part of me resonates with each path. As I undergo my own spiritual metamorphosis, these three stories have helped.

I wish it was clear which route to take. It’s not. History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme. By studying these three men, I hope to be better equipped for what may come.