A Christian pastor called Arapaho ceremonies ‘idol worship.’ Now the tribe wants her church gone

ARAPAHOE (AP)—Every Sunday morning on the Wind River Indian Reservation, congregants gather at Foundations for Nations Church to pray while protesters outside do the same.

The two rituals have unfolded in parallel since the Christian church’s pastor, Sarah Lucas, preached a sermon condemning Arapaho ceremonial ways.

The Northern Arapaho and Eastern Shoshone Tribes that share the reservation have made clear that Lucas is no longer welcome. Lucas, who is not Native American but owns the land under her church, says she isn’t going anywhere. The standoff tests the boundaries of religious freedom and the right of a tribal nation to govern according to its own values and protocols.

The conflict stems from a video that circulated in July as Arapaho people surfaced from their weeklong sundance ceremony. In it, Lucas called that cornerstone of Arapaho spiritual life “idol worship.”

“Jesus is the chain breaker. He is the only God that we should be praying to,” Lucas said.

Lucas says her words reflect her interpretation of the Bible and are constitutionally protected. Many Arapaho people say she took aim at something central to who they are, reopening wounds from a not-so-distant era of religious assimilation and abuse.

With the smell of coffee and sweetgrass swirling, regular Sunday demonstrators were recently joined by activists from the American Indian Movement and Arapaho Chairman Keenan Groesbeck as they marched past ranchland and scattered homes toward the church.

“We brought in our ceremonial elders. We heard them loud and clear,” said Groesbeck. “They don’t want them here no more.”

Lucas condemned the highest Arapaho ceremony

The sundance marks a time of connection, offering and collective renewal. As Arapaho people closed this year’s ceremony and welcomed a new year according to their traditions, Lucas and her smaller-than-usual congregation prayed for them.

“You have generations, centuries of people doing this offering, going in and making vows to change,” Lucas said. “Father God, we see no fruit.”

Many Arapahos were stunned to hear an outsider not only disparage the ceremony but talk about closely held details that aren’t meant to be discussed openly.

Big Wind Carpenter, who was among the protesters, said Lucas couldn’t have chosen a more painful target.

“There’s nothing I could say to make non-Arapahos understand,” Carpenter said.

Lucas said she regrets her sharp delivery captured in clips that went viral but not the message itself. Since founding her church nine years ago, she said she has had “hard conversations” urging Native congregants to renounce sundance, sweat lodges and burning cedar during prayer, traditions she equates to idolatry.

“The Bible makes it very clear to only worship one God,” Lucas said.

Some members of her mixed Native and white congregation were unaware of her stance. Lucas said Sunday turnout is down half from 150. Some weeks, the protest crowd has rivaled church attendance.

Arapaho congregant Tearany Black, who considers Lucas a stand-in parent, said she agrees Native Christians should turn away from ceremony but found the tone of the sermon racist.

“She cares for our people,” said Black. “I just don’t think she understands where we’re coming from.”

On Wind River, ceremony and Christianity coexist

DJ Gardner grew up praying in sweat lodges and reading the Bible. He joined Lucas’ congregation last year and didn’t anticipate being asked to choose.

“I thought they accepted us,” Gardner said. “In my view, why else would you be on a reservation?”

The 28-year-old, who has walked away from Foundations for Nations, associates Lucas’ rhetoric with assimilationist boarding schools like the one his grandfather survived.

In part to repair that dark history, the Episcopal and Catholic missions that have been active on Wind River since the late 1800s now embrace ceremonial practices.

“It’s an irony of colonialism, the degree to which Native people have remade Christianity according to their own values,” said Michael McNally, a professor of religious studies at Carleton College in Minnesota.

Lucas interprets the Bible differently.

“I don’t believe you can have mixture,” she said.

Foundations for Nations grew through community aid

Mary Rose Goggles was struggling with the costs of raising her grandchildren in 2017 when Lucas knocked on her door and warmly invited her to join her new church.

Goggles, who practices Arapaho ceremonial ways but dabbles in Christianity, liked the worship band and activities that kept her grandchildren busy. As Foundations for Nations grew, she visited its food bank, clothing giveaways and events like a fall harvest festival.

“It was good to see the kids enjoying themselves. It was good to see my relations getting help,” Goggles said.

Lucas built relationships on the Wind River Reservation by filling gaps. Her church offers free after-school and summer day camps. Visiting missionaries fill tribal members’ gas tanks and replace their sagging roofs.

Foundations for Nations’ website solicits outside donations to “revive, raise up and restore” the reservation, listing grim statistics about addiction, sexual assault and unemployment. The Associated Press found those numbers were pulled from national studies not specific to the reservation or could not be traced to a verifiable source.

A page asking donors to “sponsor” a child in exchange for photos and letters was recently removed.

Goggles left Foundations for Nations several years ago after moving away but thought warmly of the church until seeing Lucas’ sermon, which she said left her “heartbroken.”

Jenea Mandan has cycled through feelings of anger and shame about sending her children to the church’s summer camp. An Arapaho traditionalist, Mandan had misgivings about the Christian program but needed childcare help.

“At that time I was a single mom, I was in a low-income situation,” Mandan said. “It feels like they took advantage of that.”

The church sits on private land. The tribe still wants it gone

Lucas believes God called her to the Wind River Reservation. But she deliberately built her church on private property within the reservation’s boundaries rather than tribal land where, she said, the tribes would effectively be her landlords.

Foundations for Nations is located amid a patchwork of federal, tribal and private property — the legacy of 19th century federal policies designed to eliminate tribes by breaking up collective land bases.

“That era has cascading effects that are devastating for tribal sovereignty,” said Jessica Shoemaker, a professor at the University of Nebraska College of Law.

Shoemaker said tribes have broad civil authority over non-Natives on tribal land, including to banish them. But jurisdiction over private property within reservations is litigated case-by-case.

Lucas and her attorneys with the Liberty Counsel, a conservative Christian legal organization, assert that her ownership of the property shields her from banishment.

In July, the Northern Arapaho and Eastern Shoshone councils passed ordinances requiring religious groups to seek their approval before operating on the reservation

“That’s the law of the land on our reservation,” said Groesbeck.

That has forced Foundations for Nations to suspend youth programming since it is now prohibited from picking up and dropping off children on the reservation.

In an Aug. 31 memo, the Northern Arapaho council acknowledged that “jurisdictional limits” likely prevent it from regulating church activity on private land. And any tribal court enforcement of those ordinances could face federal review, where there’s a high bar for proving non-Native conduct threatens tribal well-being.

Meanwhile, the 21,000 square-foot steel-sided building that houses Foundations for Nations’ sanctuary, community spaces and indoor playground has been unusually quiet. Construction on a neighboring youth center continues.

“God would not have us build this and provided all of it to empty it out,” Lucas said.

Gardner has returned to the Catholic church of his childhood, where Arapaho geometric motifs adorn the sanctuary and he is welcome to burn cedar.

He has been praying for guidance on forgiveness.

“In order for me to strive to be like Jesus, I would have to forgive,” Gardner said. “But there are some lines you just don’t cross.”

This story is published through the Global Indigenous Reporting Network at The Associated Press.