Pastor's role on reserve part of her 'journey'

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Erin McIntyre is pastor of Fisher River United Church on Fisher River Cree Nation, about 165 kilometres north of Win­nipeg. She’s working hard to erase stereotypes of both pastors and of aboriginal people. (BILL REDEKOP / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS )

FISHER RIVER CREE NATION -- Single, white, female, nose-studded... pastor?

"Some people think I'm still 19," said youngish looking Erin McIntyre, the United Church pastor here. One person on the reserve claimed she was 22. She's actually 27, and has been here 18 months already.

McIntyre doesn't know what the big deal is, of her age, of her nose-ring, of her being female, or of the fact that her first posting out of seminary school is an isolated aboriginal reserve. "I was a little intimidated when I first moved here," she allowed. Fisher River is about 165 kilometres north of Winnipeg, at the end of Highway 17 after it turns into Highway 224.

"Isolation is one of the biggest challenges," she said. "I'm one of those people who like to process things out by talking."

It's not an easy situation today either, says aboriginal elder, Gloria Cook. There's a backlash against Christian churches on reserves following all the bad publicity about residential schools, said Cook, a parishioner at Fisher River United.

McIntyre will get as few as five people to a sermon. On the other hand, McIntyre hosted a community building day recently and nearly the entire reserve came out and framed a new hall for the church.

McIntyre was born in Ottawa, grew up in Lethbridge, attended St. Andrew's College in Saskatoon. Her mom works in the financial sector and her dad is with Agricultural Canada in livestock research.

Erin was involved in church youth groups as a teenager and people would suggest she'd make a good minister. She didn't think so. She saw herself more as a scientist or teacher or journalist. It took four years of university studies to change her mind. She spent the next four years obtaining her Masters in Divinity. "I guess I always wanted to do something to help people," she said.

Her position in Fisher River is unique. Most pastors in the Interlake will oversee a dozen or more churches each. She has one. The reason is Fisher River is part of the United Church's All Native Circle, and there are no other United Church aboriginal churches nearby.

McIntyre has zero interest in being boxed in by peoples' stereotype of a pastor -- or stereotype of life on a reserve. She's learning to speak Cree, and has applied for a second Masters in theology to translate Cree hymns into English, while serving as pastor here.

McIntyre has also discovered the reserve's adult volleyball league, curling club, bowling league and other community activities.

"It's a neat place with amazing people," said McIntyre. "They've got a wonderful education system with a high graduation rate. There are a lot of people with degrees or post-secondary education. There are teachers from here that teach here. A lot of people here are hired from the community. Lots of other reserves hire people from outside."

Safety, she says, is not a concern. "Safety is something you have to pay attention to no matter where you live. It's not a reserve thing." If she has any worries, she takes an elder with her, she said.

Sunday service is a small part of the pastor's duties. McIntyre visits the senior shut-ins, presides at funerals and tries to be a friend wherever she can. One of her toughest tasks was presiding over the death of a two-day-old child. Aboriginal funerals can last up to four days.

Said Cook: "I think it's part of her journey to learn about life in a small aboriginal community. And I think it's an opportunity for both community and herself to work in this unique situation."

The previous minister was aboriginal. McIntyre's complexion belies the fact she's distantly Metis. "You can't tell by looking at me. I look more like my Scottish ancestry."

She responds unreservedly when asked how it's going. "I love it," she said. "There's something about being with people in their most life-changing moments, like when a loved one is dying, or someone's getting married, or you're baptizing a baby, or helping people with issues that come up. That's pretty special."

She does not proselytize. Christianity has a long history in the community, dating back to before these Cree split from the Norway House band in 1875. "I try not to force myself on anyone. That's not pleasant," McIntyre said.

As for the nose ring, McIntyre got it the summer before she entered seminary school. "I refrained from other piercing because it could be a barrier," she said. After all, she jokes, "how many holes does a person need in their head?"

bill.redekop@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition November 29, 2010 A6