book report: dakota

Kathnleen Norris pulled me way back home, and far from comfort, with her book, Dakota: A Spiritual Geography. It was emotional to read her account of living in the high plains of South Dakota. Sometimes accutely perceptive, and yet sometimes painfully arrogant, she writes honestly and beautifully about the people and spirituality of this region. In so doing, I think she speaks to the soul of community. While her writing is generally reflective of the Dakota life, I felt it offers a link between the dying towns of plains states and the depraved poverty of inner cities.

The book is a collection of thoughts, many suspended in a tension of isolation within community. I especially enjoyed how she wove together the life and people of her region: nearby Benedictine monasteries, rural churches, tribal traditionalists, farmers, ranchers, teachers, and poets. She speaks of hospitality and community in ways that challenged and encouraged me:

"Saint Benedict, writing in the sixth century, notes that a monastery is never without guests, and admonishes monks to 'receive all guests as Christ'... A story said to originate in a Russian Orthodox monastery has an older monk telling a younger one: 'I have finallylearned to accept people as they are. Whatever they are in the world, a prostitte, a prime minister, it is all the same to me. But sometimes I see a stranger coming up the road and I say, "Oh, Jesus Christ, is it you again?"

I felt like Ms. Norris has many teachings within her writing. The isolation and insulation of small, midwestern communities is both tragic and blessed. It is more like the urban neighborhoods of my new home than I think most city dwellers would like to believe. The issues that challenge my city or neighborhood (and other urban concerns) receive more press than those in northwestern South Dakota, but I think we could learn much from her perspective.

There are many parallels when thinking about the way our city neighborhoods have grown out of, yet in the midst of, extreme poverty; the loss of history and sense of place when neighborhoods change quickly; how we don't know our neighbors in spite of planned density and urban renewal; how we are called to live as the restored, even among the broken.

Thank you, Maria, for the recommendation and long-lasting loan on this book.