by Bishop David Wilson
In 2020, Native communities and their allies won a long-overdue victory when the Washington NFL team retired its racist name. It was a powerful moment of truth, dignity, and long-fought justice.
Yet here we are in 2025, confronting renewed calls to bring back these offensive team names—most recently by former President Donald Trump. This isn’t just politics. It’s a reawakening of racism and trauma for Native Americans. Cloaking these mascots in “tradition” and “nostalgia” only deepens the harm.
As people of faith, we are called to do more than observe injustice. We are called to act. Scripture teaches us to walk humbly with God, to love mercy, and to do justice (Micah 6:8). This moment calls for courage, truth, and witness.
Mascots that use Native names and imagery are not about honoring Native peoples. They are about power and control. These symbols reduce living cultures to caricatures. They dehumanize and distort sacred identities, suggesting that Native people are relics of the past instead of vibrant members of present-day communities.
Some ask, “Why does it matter?” It matters because our children are watching. A study commissioned by the Oneida Nation found that Native youth exposed to these mascots experienced a decline in self-esteem, a weakened sense of community, and diminished belief in their potential.
These images cause psychological harm. And for non-Native audiences, they reinforce false assumptions and negative stereotypes. When the faith community remains silent, it becomes complicit.
For years, faith-based resolutions and teachings have acknowledged this harm and called for solidarity with Indigenous communities. These efforts have urged churches and organizations to avoid holding major events in cities with professional teams that continue to use offensive Native mascots—not as a punishment, but as a stand for dignity and truth.
We’ve also been called to pursue healing relationships with Indigenous peoples—relationships rooted in listening, accountability, and mutual respect. This is more than symbolic work. It is sacred work. It requires us to reject paternalism and racism, and to step into a path of repentance and repair.
Indigenous communities offer powerful models of collective care. Decisions are made not for individual gain, but for the good of the whole—the tribe, the environment, and future generations. While dominant culture often emphasizes individualism, Indigenous wisdom reminds us that we are all in this together. As Philippians 2:4-5 teaches, we are to care for others as we care for ourselves and to have the mindset of Christ—one of humility, compassion, and shared responsibility.
Faith traditions can learn from Indigenous values, not just in their resistance to injustice but in how they live out communal care. In many ways, Indigenous practices reflect the radical love and justice we see in the teachings of Christ.
We must not be neutral now. What clearer example of public racial harm exists than the reintroduction of racial slurs into professional sports? Some organizations continue to gather in cities with teams like the ‘Braves’ and ‘Chiefs,’ even as these mascots market Native identity as costume and commodity. While educational efforts may accompany these events, we must ask ourselves whether our presence supports justice or rewards harm.
This is not just a political issue. It is a spiritual one. The misuse of Native identities is part of a long story of erasure, colonization, and broken treaties. If we are serious about healing, we must confront not only what has been done, but what continues to be done—often in our name, and with our silence.
So what can the faith community do?
1) Speak out against the return and continued use of racist mascots.
2) Avoid hosting events in cities where professional teams use offensive Native imagery.
3) Amplify Native voices, especially youth, who are courageously leading the call for dignity.
4) Educate congregations on the harm caused by these mascots and the broader legacy of racism.
5) Incorporate Indigenous theology and history into worship and education—not as a footnote, but as part of the richness of God’s creation.
What gives me hope is that more people (inside and outside the faith) are beginning to understand. We’ve seen schools, colleges, and even entire states remove harmful mascots. The Cleveland baseball team retired ‘Chief Wahoo’ in 2018. These steps, though modest to some, are deeply meaningful to Native communities.
But we cannot leave this work to others. We must lead it. If we, as people of faith, remain silent while our Native brothers and sisters are mocked and commodified, then we betray the Gospel. Christ calls us to justice, not neutrality. To courage, not comfort.
We cannot change the past, but we can choose what kind of people (and what kind of church) we will be today. Let us choose to be a voice for the marginalized, a community of truth, and a witness for justice. Healing begins when we refuse to be silent.
