The oldest stories from the Bible are rife with tribalism, genocide, colonialism, and warfare. These are not told with historical precision, but still with a high degree of thematic accuracy. Those times were brutal. From the agricultural revolution 10,000 years ago until about 80 years ago, the human condition has been one of scarcity and brutality. The past 80 years — especially in North America — have been exceptional. Until the end of the second world war, we were fighters more than we were lovers. We kidnapped and enslaved people. We stole from other people. We took control of others' land. Those who developed a taste for power dreamed of ways to seize more of it.

Before the agricultural revolution, however, things were different. Many tribes were much more egalitarian and supportive. Yes, warfare was present and part of the norm, but so was an abundance mindset. Life expectancy was not long, but people died more from disease and the dangers of infancy than from brutality inflicted by neighbours. It wasn't paradise, and nothing like the long, healthy lives most North Americans enjoy now, but it was good.

For a long time, those who escaped the effects of the Agricultural Revolution probably fared better than those who lived under the unjust governance structures brought about by the possibility of storing food. In those places where the agricultural revolution arrived later, the people there enjoyed lower risk of communicable disease, less infection spread by animals, fewer pressures that accompany the accumulation of wealth and power. It wasn't all hunky-dory, but it was probably better.

When my ancestors arrived from Scotland, England, and Wales, many were woefully impoverished. They were basically destitute. They were stuck in a class system that ensured wealth trickled upward and where their children would be worse off than they were. The worst parts of the agricultural revolution lingered. The New World, on the other hand, was full of promise. It symbolized a return to the Garden of Eden.

The trouble is that it wasn't theirs. Garden of Eden, almost, but not their Garden.

The centuries of colonialism are exactly what we should have expected to happen, in hindsight. When an air of cultural superiority mixed with superhuman technology and a scarcity mindset encountered an abundance mindset in a land of plenty, the devastation was essentially guaranteed. I dare think it was actually inevitable. Those arriving from Europe and elsewhere weren't evil; they simply lacked a mental framework for what they encountered. For all of human existence, might most definitely did make right. What would be the alternative? Superior technology always determined who would control the resources; why would it be any different in what we now call North America? Of course we ought to — and we do — look back and judge the errors of their thinking, but we do so anachronistically, with the benefits of hindsight and the knowledge of the wealth and excesses that were novel to the 20th century. They could not possibly have foreseen this, much as I wish they had. I wish my ancestors could have seen the injustice of taking land and resources from other people, but that's all they had known. All my wishing over the years has changed nothing about the past. I suppose it never will.

The question we face now is what to do about it. We certainly have to acknowledge that the system of colonialism predestined some to come out on top and others to struggle and suffer. Some of the wealth that has been transferred down my ancestral line was the direct result of a system that took land and resources from one group and gave it to another. I acknowledge that I benefit from that system. I could let the guilt of that injustice take over my life, as I have seen some people do.

We could behave as if there is some amount of guilt that will change the past so we embody that guilt, but to no such end. We could appeal to a morality without precedent in any human history in hopes that the land might be returned, or compensated fairly. But the masses simply aren't wealthy enough to make that reality. Multiple generations of families like mine have only ever known one home–do my children have the right to call it their own? Will their children have that right? Much as I find it strange that the Government of British Columbia permits me to put my name on a title and, this, declares me the “owner” that is the system we have. Is there an alternative to fee simple ownership that affords a similar guarantee that no despot, no oligarch, and no king will force me to give up my home? Again I ask, where to from here?

To reconcile is to come back together. Canada's Indian Act still ensures that people of different races enjoy different rights and privileges. Despite that major piece of legislation, however, we simply have to see ourselves as more alike than different. Don't we all crave for an environment that allows for the thriving of our children? Don't we all long for food security? Don't we all want to spend an afternoon in a hammock with a good book? Don't we all long for meaningful pursuits, and to look back on a given struggle and say, that was worth it. No, we don't all want the same thing. But our interests and desires certainly overlap more than the power-holders imply. We are one (and yet distinct). We are all related.

It's time for the discourse of division to end. Ninety-nine percent of life is not a zero-sum game. 

Reconciliation means we are all better off. It means we tackle the challenges of housing, food, and climate as if we genuinely care for each other. That's what abundance is: I win when you win, and vice versa.

The only solution I propose is to genuinely desire the best outcomes for another person. If we assume that posture, everything else falls into place.

Let's behave as if we are one.

Ministries And Programs
Reconciliation