Native religions are not as

sacred as almighty dollar

Jan. 17, 2006 12:00 AM

The last time, maybe the only time, that most people in Arizona went along with the idea that Native American spiritual beliefs are part of a legitimate religion occurred early in April 2003, when snow fell in Tuba City.

At the time, news organizations from all over the globe were covering the story of Pfc. Lori Piestewa, the first Native American woman to die for the United States in combat. Reporters had been told that the name Piestewa, in Hopi, refers to rainwater that collects after a heavy downpour. Then, only a few hours after Piestewa's parents were informed of her death in Iraq, it snowed.

Lori's mother, Percy, was quoted as saying, "She (Lori) came down in moisture and told us, 'I'm at peace with myself, and I'm with the creator.' We knew it was her sending us a message in the snow."

People all over the world heard about the message in the snow, and for that brief moment, everyone seemed to believe it was a message from above.

But that was then. We were in the early stages of the war. The death of Piestewa and other soldiers was a shock that we needed to get through. Once that happened, it appears that our view of Native American spirituality shifted from reverential to mildly dismissive.

If that were not true, spiritual leaders and followers from what we think of as mainstream religions would be up in arms over what happened last week in federal court. A judge decided that the Arizona Snowbowl ski resort could install equipment that would make artificial snow using reclaimed wastewater from Flagstaff.

Some tribes in the area consider the mountains sacred. Last summer, when the issue was heating up, a Navajo medicine man told The Arizona Republic's Mark Shaffer: "The peaks have a lot of religious power when they are undisturbed. But putting wastewater up there would be like turning our shrine into a toilet."

The U.S. Forest Service didn't see it that way, however. Neither did the operators of the Arizona Snowbowl, which this year is suffering from what could turn out to be its driest season on record. And neither did the federal judge.

Hundreds of people have jobs related to skiing, which pumps millions of dollars into Flagstaff's economy.

It's easy to understand why business owners would support the push to make artificial snow. In a battle between the Almighty and the almighty dollar, the Church of the Greenback usually wins. Arizona Snowbowl is on federal land, so Indian claims that its surroundings are "sacred" can easily lose out in court.

But reaction to the court's decision not only demonstrates how much we care about money; it shows just how little we think of Native American "religions."

There has been no visible effort among other religious congregations to come to the aid of the tribes. No meeting between medicine men, who are said to travel from far away to perform ceremonies on the San Francisco Peaks, and the spiritual leaders of more well-known faiths. No rallying of Christians, Muslims and Jews behind the Native religions.

Every spiritual person believes that he is a member of the one true faith. But most of the time when a single religion is pushed aside by commerce or common prejudice, leaders from other persuasions come to its defense.

Imagine what would happen if a court told Christians in the area that local businesses needed all the available fresh water and that pastors would have to use chemically treated effluent for baptisms.