On Oct. 8, 55 people seeking spiritual enlightenment were crammed into a makeshift sweat lodge in Sedona, Ariz., under the guidance of James Arthur Ray, a nationally renowned self-help guru. Witnesses claim Ray intimidated and coerced participants to remain in the steamy sweat lodge for two hours. Twenty-one people were rushed to hospitals. Three died. Word of the tragedy sent shockwaves to Oklahoma — the home of many sacred sweat lodge ceremonies.
WATONGA OKLAHOMA— Eugene Blackbear, leaning on a wooden walking cane, takes a seat not far from the family’s sacred sweat lodge on a small acreage south of Watonga. His son-in-law, Malcolm Whitebird, stokes the flames of a bonfire built around a pyramid of stones.
Once the stones turn a glowing red they will be placed inside the lodge, where Blackbear’s grandsons have draped a heavy canvas over a dome-like frame made of tree branches. The stones will then be sprinkled with water, and the sweat will begin.
Blackbear, 79, is in his element.
The Cheyenne medicine man is encircled by family, friends and the traditional ways of his grandfather’s grandfathers. Life is good. Yet on this day, his heart is heavy over the Arizona tragedy.
"I pray for the families of those victims,” said Blackbear, speaking above a howling wind. "What happened there is not right. I don’t like it at all. Whoever conducted that sweat obviously didn’t know what they were doing. You don’t charge money for a sweat. That is something holy. You don’t mess with those types of things.
"There was a reason this happened. We just don’t know the reason yet.”
James Arthur Ray, who built a financial empire from his motivational books and lectures, charged clients $9,000 to attend a five-day "Spiritual Warrior” retreat. The package included a "vision quest” in which participants reportedly fasted in the Arizona desert for 36 straight hours, followed by a two-hour sweat lodge ceremony loosely based on ancient American Indian practices.
On Thursday, Ray announced on his Web site that he has postponed all future events to "dedicate all my physical and emotional energies to helping bring some sort of closure to this matter.”
A criminal investigation is pending.
Blackbear fears the fallout might have major ramifications if people don’t understand how – or why – real Indian sweat lodge ceremonies are conducted. Sweats are performed in various forms by different tribes nationwide, including the Cheyenne, Arapaho, Kiowa, Comanche and Sioux.
"This is part of our religion,” Blackbear said. "We don’t want someone coming in here and making new laws, restricting our sweat lodge. You don’t have to burn someone out in a sweat, or keep them from leaving. That’s not right. A sweat is about prayer and healing.”
Whitebird said Indians who charge for sweat lodge ceremonies are generally regarded as "sellouts.” Non-Indians who do the same: "Frauds.”
Sedona Blackbear, Eugene’s daughter-in-law, is compassionate and blunt.
"It’s offensive to us,” she said. "It’s offensive that they didn’t know how to use it and it hurt those poor people. We just need to pray for those families.”
Sedona and her husband, Ralph, have hosted sweat lodge ceremonies for years on their rural property. A deeply worn footpath between the bonfire pit and the sweat lodge bear witness to their spiritual dedication, as well their hospitality and commitment to the traditional ways of their people.
In the Cheyenne tribe, the sweat lodge – like the annual Sundance and Sacred Arrows ceremonies – were brought by a legendary holy man known as Sweet Medicine. Cheyenne legend states that Sweet Medicine lived to 445 years of age, and traveled the sacred Black Hills of South Dakota before his death.
There, Sweet Medicine is led to the most sacred site in Bear Butte – a tipi-like mountain that rises from the prairie. Somewhere on Bear Butte, Sweet Medicine entered a secret cave where great spirits awaited his arrival. They entrusted in him the spiritual and social foundation for the Cheyenne, including how to run a sweat lodge ceremony.
Today, Bear Butte is the destination for countless vision quests. The elder Blackbear himself has engaged in 16 such journeys and has participated in four Sundances dating to 1948. Before that, he watched his elders and carefully observed their ways.
"As a child, they used to put me in charge of opening and shutting the sweat lodge doors,” Blackbear said. "We had one on the east and one on the west in those days. If a buffalo skull had been placed in front of the lodge, I knew that meant powerful medicine.
"Today, we will do what we call a ‘Young Man’s Sweat.’ But every sweat should be done with a special purpose – a homecoming; or if someone is leaving; or if someone is sick.”
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