Lesson 239: The Way of the Warrior

Army of Tennessee Chaplain David Chaltas

THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR

His name was Ed Begay and he was a full blooded Navajo living within the confines of his ancestral home on the reservation. He had a Native name but stated if I used it, power would be taken from it. I wasn’t sure if that was the case but I decided to err on the side of caution. His father was a medicine man, commonly known as a Shaman. He was widely known for following the old warrior’s path. I later discovered how true that statement was.

I first met Ed while working on the reservation. He was my aid for a season but became my friend for life. It was he who took me to different places hiking and introduced me to the Powwow. It was he who told me about the circle of life and how important it was to remain in hozo (harmony). It was he who shared with me a new way of thinking about the people.

I recall Ed taking me to Three Turkey Ruins. I was in awe of God’s handiwork and how the people cherished their land. While perched high upon a mesa, we began talking about those poor souls lost in alcoholism and I wondered how they could get in such a shape. Ed would always pause for the longest time (often making me uncomfortable) and then speak. He said that the words he spoke today would surround his very being forever, so he had to select them wisely. It was the old way.

“Have you ever thought that those people are the true warriors refusing to accept the ways of the White Man?” He quietly stated. “They have lost their path after having their culture taken from them and all the promises broken by those who came to take the land. They will not accept the ways of today and seek another trail. The path they found is one of destruction, distrust and death. Is it not our duty to help them find the right path while allowing them to maintain the pride of being Native?’

The genesis of his words came like the sun bursting through the prism of a cloud. Here I was not walking in their shoes and trying to change them. Here I was judging them for their actions without understanding their ways. It was not their thinking that I must change but mine. I recalled the verse in the Bible where Christ said, “Judge not that ye be not judged.” I remembered that Christ walked amongst the people without judging them but offering them hope; a new path; yes the way of the warrior.

It was then that I made my decision not to be one of those people who sing to the choir. I was determined to go amongst those who did NOT attend church and did NOT profess Christ. I was determined to help those who could not help themselves and be an example for others. I knew I would fail many times but I also knew that God would use me.

My time came on a Saturday night. I heard a knock on my door and when I opened it, Ed’s son was standing there. He stated that grandfather needed to see me. I offered the boy a ride and we went up towards Navajo, N. M., where the old man lived. As I drove I couldn’t help but marvel that the boy had walked almost six miles to get me. As we drove down that dusty trail to the Hogan, I spotted the old man. He was emerging from a sweat lodge and there seemed to be an aura around him that I did not quite understand.

The old Shaman looked at me and spoke in his Native tongue. His grandson interpreted his words.

“Grandfather says that my father is being eaten by the dark wolf and that you were sent to him in a dream to go find him. Grandfather says that you must walk upon the wind and it will lead you to his son.”

I stood there stunned. What was I to do? How was I going to find the Cha’s son? But one look at the old man’s pleading eyes, I knew I had to try.

I knew some of Ed’s friends. I went to a couple and finally Yolanda told me that he had gone off the warrior’s path and was lost. I understood then that he had given up and had returned to the path of destruction, distrust and death. He had returned to a life in the bottle.

I drove towards Gallup, New Mexico, and stopped at Sagebrush, which was a local bar on land checker boarding the reservation. I went in and was immediately noticed. I went to the bartender and asked about my friend. He stated he knew him but had not seen him lately. He also whispered that I best go while I still could. I understood his meaning and was relieved to get into my car without being harassed. As I drove out of the lot, it came to me that I was running from the very ones I had promised to help. Something pulled me back. As I parked my car, I offered a very earnest prayer and tried to muster the courage to go back inside.

I went inside and to my surprise; Ed was sitting on a corner bar stool. I had been lied to by the bartender. I walked up to him and greeted him as one brother to another. I did not notice that I was being encircled by others. Apparently Ed had just been paid and was buying rounds for others. That is why they hid him. I told him that his father was looking for him and his son was worried. He just gave me a blank stare.

“Leave him alone Ligaii (White Man),” I heard someone say. I wanted to say fine but knew I could not leave him. For some odd reason I turned and said, “God loves you.” It not only shocked me but those around me. One man took exception to me and said, “I don’t believe in your God.” I stated, “Well, He believes in you.” Still he would not be contained and he said something in Navajo to the others. I did not understand the words but I understood perfectly the meaning. I was in trouble.

It was then that I noted some of the men moving to the side, like the parting of the Red Sea. Walking slowly between those men gathered around me was the Shaman, wearing a medal on his chest. There behind him stood two distinguished looking Navajo men. One was to become my mentor. He and his son would become great artists. Both men happened to have visited Mr. Begay, their old comrade, and when they heard of his vision, offered to help him find his son. I noted they had medals on as well. Then the valley of ignorance was shattered by enlightenment! My God, standing before me were three of the fabled Navajo Code Talkers who were so revered amongst the Dinah and the world. They had come, not be chance, but by vision to find the Cha’s son and to rescue me.

Immediately the tone of the people gathered around me changed. Royalty had come to take the lost one home and get him back on the Warrior’s road. Those three heroes of yesteryear were honoring the voices of the past simply by their presence and reminding all in their presence that they still followed the way of the warrior. The subdued crowd slowly melted away, leaving three warriors fighting for their people, a lost warrior on a bar stool and a humbled soul with yet another lesson under his belt.

The way of the true warrior is to walk in beauty. The way of a true warrior is to maintain the balance, the harmony, known as hozo. The way of the warrior is one whereby your spirit discovers the truths of life, finds a peace that passeth all understanding, and attempts to follow sacred principles throughout life’s path. The final step of self realization is once you obtain these sacred principles, they must be presented them to others so they too can walk upon the wind and embrace the warrior’s path.

So what is the way of the warrior? Brother Mark Carroll stated it best after reading my narrative. “A warrior’s path will not save anyone. Christ did not call for works, but faith, in him personally.” It is that very faith which gives you the strength to walk the path and face the many trials and temptations along life’s highway. It is that faith which will pick you up when you feel that you have lost your way. “The fact is: only Jesus saves. Our Lord said in John 14:6 that, I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the father except through me.” We have an instruction book on how to walk in beauty; it is called the Holy Bible. Let us seek the warrior’s path through faith in our Savior, believing in Him who watches over the sparrow. Will He not do the same for us? Faith in our blessed Savior while we walk the warrior’s path will lead us home.