Sometimes, in Canada, we make the mistake of looking with a long lens for poverty issues that require our attention. But in truth, we don’t need to look very far at all. In Canada, the two real divides in this country are not French and English or East and West. They are First Nations and non-aboriginal. The grim conditions on First Nations and Inuit territory taint every international standard on which Canada is measured. When researchers list the best places to live in Canada, reserves are always at the bottom. While we grumble about the quality of our classrooms, the children there go to schools where mucky water comes out of taps, if they run at all, or the buildings are contaminated with mold. While we are renovating our living rooms, their houses are crumbling around them because they were not built to withstand the weather conditions. They have the highest rates of poverty, addiction, school drop-out, and teenage suicides. This last is at epidemic proportions. First Nations men and women will crowd our soon-to-be-built super-prisons. And these issues build with each struggling generation: there are currently more aboriginal children in foster care – often far from their communities – than ever attended residential schools. Western provinces expect these numbers only to grow. And meanwhile, children who live on reserves receive significantly less funding for education and other services than our own privileged children.

We should be ashamed of this. Instead, too often, we are overwhelmed by it. Or we say it is the government’s responsibility. Or worse, we cast blame that borders on racism. We see only what is close up and not the big picture – the abject poverty, the mental health problems that linger from a history of persecution, the lack of opportunity. There are no easy solutions to this, but it’s hard to hear both our second lesson and our gospel today and not hear clearly that we should be doing something.

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