The Power We Carry
ALL FAITHFUL DEPARTED
Wisdom 3:1-9 • Psalm 130 • 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18 •
John 5:24-27
If you’ve seen the second season of Reservation Dogs on Hulu, this story from Episode 9 will be familiar to you; if not, allow me to share.
Willie Jack, determined not to lose the bond she and her fellow teenage friends share, seeks her aunt’s help. Willie Jack knows that they, the Rez Dogs as they call themselves, are at a critical time. After the tragic death of one of their friends (and also her cousin), it seemed like they were working through their grief and life, but following some recent unfortunate events in their lives, things have shifted. Willie Jack watches as everyone slips away into routine, silence, and isolation . . . and perhaps defeat.
She signs the visitor log using her full name “Wilhelmina” at the detention center and tells a fellow visitor who strikes up a conversation that she doesn’t really know why she’s there. We learn that Willie Jack always used to go to her aunt, her deceased cousin’s mom, when she had questions about life. She thought she was “all powerful like a wizard.” We don’t know why her aunt Hokti (HOOK-tee) is incarcerated, the prison around her may be a living metaphor for the grief she bears following her son’s death. Hokti did not anticipate her niece’s visit and had actually kept her from being on the approved visitor’s list because, she confesses later, every time she sees Willie Jack she sees Danny, her son. They are the same age.
But Willie Jack’s visit was anticipated. Earlier in her cell, Hokti opened her eyes to see a spirit, a bright, gently smiling and very real young woman in dress from an earlier time, sitting on the sink shelf. There’s familiarity between them. This isn’t the first time Hokti has been visited. The spirit tells Hokti it’s a big day, that the ancestors are all watching. Hokti is tired, annoyed even. There’s a resignation in her being. The spirit speaks kindly and honestly: “You’ve stopped doing your medicine work.” She adds, “Ignoring your responsibility is ignoring your ancestors.” Hokti doesn’t respond. They are interrupted by the guard announcing that Hokti has a visitor. The spirit is gone.
But the spirit is back to look on while Willie Jack and Hokti sit across from each other at the metal table. They navigate the awkward reunion and visitation rules. Willie Jack doesn’t mince words in calling out her aunt for not being there for her, for choosing to be miserable, but she still needs advice.
Hokti reminds her that you’re supposed to bring a gift to the one whose advice you seek. Willie Jack uses the cash from her sock to get snacks from the vending machine, and while munching on Famin’ Flamers, she tells her aunt that it seems like “everyone’s walking in the sunshine, and we’re just in the darkness.” Hokti hears the young one. She turns her eyes toward the spirit woman and says, “Gonna need your help.” The spirit smiles eagerly, shakes her frame to stand taller, ready. Willie Jack doesn’t see or know who her aunt is talking to.
“We’re gonna have a little prayer,” Hokti says, without enthusiasm but with confidence. She brushes the snacks to the side and instructs Willie Jack to lay her forearms on the table, palms up, like she does. Hokti’s voice continues, sure and smooth, guiding Willie Jack to close her eyes and take long, slow, deep breaths, listening to the breath. Everyone and everything else in the visiting room falls away. Willie Jack has her eyes closed. As Hokti speaks, viewers hear a native chant and drumming rise in the background. Hokti reminds Willie Jack of stories she has told her about the people they come from, and images appear behind Willie Jack . . . medicine people, caretakers, the ones who held them together as they were robbed of homelands, . . . healers, men and women whose “songs led us through the dark.”
“They’re watching you, my girl,” Hokti says. “This is the power we carry, and when you really pray, they’re all around you all the time.”
The spirit woman rests her hands on Willie Jack’s shoulders, and Willie Jack’s explicit response tells us she feels the connection, the touch, as do the tears that stream down her face. Hokti tells her to open her eyes. The ancestors and stillness are gone. The surroundings come back. Willie Jack sobs into her shirt until she is able to meet her aunt’s gaze.
Her aunt confides in her, sharing wisdom she has learned, and Willie Jack will take it with her, not only the words but–perhaps more importantly–the experience. She will bring her friends together, and she will try to recreate this moment of prayer. And much to the spirit’s delight, Hokti will add Wilhelmina to the visitor list.
So few moments in our popular culture capture the sense of assurance of the communion of saints, the hope of the faithful departed, but when I first saw that episode, a recognition stirred within me, not just of the indigenous culture or a sense of responsibility, but of the nearness of the communion of saints. Popular culture might not reflect it often, but every time we gather for Holy Communion, this is our heavenly banquet, when we abide in the confidence of the resurrection and the life. Thank God we take at least one day in the year
to remember together those whom we love and see no longer because each one of us carries grief every day, everywhere we go.
Just as there is nowhere we can go that God is not already there, so, too, wherever we go, we bring our ancestors with us . . . those who are faithfully departed and those whose faith is known to God alone. God is merciful and full of grace. In this we take courage and encourage one another. This is some of the power we carry.
© 2023 The Rev. Sara Milford
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church – Fayetteville, Arkansas