Noticing the Presence of Intergenerational Spirituality

Years ago when I was preparing to share stories of Ezekiel Solomon, my 5x-great-grandfather, I wrote a poem. The whole poem is about 200 words. Here is an excerpt:

that’s why today I search out the water

to see your knowing presence

as the ripples

In Bernice and the Georgian Bay Gold there is a scene where Bernice and her mémèr stand on the shore overlooking Georgian Bay. Mémèr teaches Bernice, who is eight, how to stand quietly and listen for voices, particularly of her pépèr who Bernice misses so dearly, travelling on the water.

Finding notes about a dream encounter with my 5×-great-grandfather, fur trader Ezekiel Solomon, opens a reflection on intergenerational spirituality: how faith, memory, and water keep speaking across time. I explore what’s historically knowable and what’s prayerful mystery, and why presence itself can be a kind of fact.

Dear River,

Whenever I visit you, I stand quietly on the shore and listen for your voice. Watching the water sway and move, your energy sometimes rushing to meet me, waves lapping by my feet. I spend so much of my day talking, that being near you is a reminder to be still, be quiet, be present with you.

Listening to Water

What would my day look like if I listened more? How would that change what I notice about the world around me and within me? How do I carry this presence into every moment?

And what if I could have this presence more often in my dreams too? Would I expand my awareness of time, place, surroundings, connections, watching, and joining stories unfolding, carrying messages back to my waking world as lessons?

It's not easy to remember dreams. Do we miss waking moments too?

My notes tell me that I remember the day I met Ezekiel Solomon in a dream. We walked along a wooded path in the fall. Amber and yellow leaves covered the ground in every direction. The nearly bare trees, more like giants, watched us. Branches offered protection, pointed direction, expressed affection, leaning in and out.

We walked without speaking. There is an art to being present, even in a dream. Noticing. His eyes said I love you. Warm energy pulled us close as we strolled, a gentle magnetic force. His grey suit. My yellow dress. A very old grandfather and a very young granddaughter, harmonized like two fiddles playing the same heartfelt ballad.

A dream sparked relationship, a way of releasing what I knew about family and opening my eyes to notice other ancestors by my side as I walked through life. Grandfather Solomon was among the first ancestors I met in a dream. I hold this moment in prayer, trusting the communion of Saints and the mystery of God’s presence to guide me.

If I didn't find these notes, I may not have remembered this moment. Did this happen as its recorded? What is memory? What is story? Does it matter now what is fact and what is poetry? Now, the presence is a fact. How this presence in my life started can be a combination of things I may have noticed or not noticed.

The gifts of presence can expand.

As time passed, I learned more about Grandfather Solomon (1735-1808). His stories had a way of finding me. Other people who were looking to understand his legacy reached out. I met people from all over North America and even as far as Jerusalem, all searching for him. We navigated the research together. On my old blog, nearly 500 comments from people, including many descendants, contributed to piecing together his life.

One researcher taught me what his Hebrew name may be: Yehezkel ben Shlomo. God strengthens. He said Grandfather Solomon's name likely came from someone else in the family. If I ever get the chance to meet Grandfather again in a dream, I want to ask him: Is Solomon your surname or the name of your father?

In a couple weeks, Search out the Land, will preview in Toronto. It is a documentary by Len Pearl that looks at early Jewish Canadians and their impact, the ripples of their presence that continue to echo. In the film, standing by the water of Lake Ontario, I share stories that I've learned of Ezekiel Solomon.

Listening to Ezekiel Solomon

In the mid-1700s, he set out alone from Montreal, paddling first on the Ottawa River to the Great Lakes, making his way to Fort Michilimackinac. The story of his work held in the currents of the waterways, fragments of information floating to the surface thanks to the Internet. Over time, his presence expanded, more sources are indexed, and even though we didn't know him, all the pieces come together to form an impression of what he was like, what his life was like.

He is known for his resilience and perseverance during the fur trade, expanding trading posts further north and west, maintaining relationships with diverse First Nations communities in the time before Hudson Bay Company and Northwest Trading Company had the monopoly. At Michilimackinac, trade and survival were relational: Odawa and Ojibwe networks, protocols of gifting, and multilingual interpreters made every exchange a diplomatic act.

I've researched many of my ancestors, but very few of them have documentation about their work and their religion the way that he does. Ezekiel Solomon helped raise funds for the Shearith Israel Congregation in Montreal, Canada’s oldest Jewish congregation, whose roots trace to 1760 and formal establishment in 1768. Sources suggest he was noted in the synagogue's records a number of times throughout his life.

Research and ripples...

I'm curious about his work in the fur trade, his relationships with First Nation communities and voyageurs, the ways of life during a time of change, but mostly, I'm curious about his spirituality.

In December 2017, I received a note from an Antique Judaica Dealer, asking me if I am interested in buying Ezekiel Solomon's prayer books:

Up for auction in Sotheby's NY.

A Six-Volume Set of the Sephardic Liturgy with English Translation, London 1771-1776

First ever translation of the text in English.

4 (out of 6) volumes belonged to Ezekiel Solomons. Volume 5 signed Ezekiel Solomons, Michilimackinac, April 16, 1786

Prayer-book volumes identified as Ezekiel Solomon's

Over the next several weeks, my research friend and I exchange several notes. He shares:

It appears that I will be able to look at the copies of several volumes of these prayer books, but they want to restrict me to microfilm and not touch the rare hard copies. I am looking for names inside these prayer books – vols. 2 and 5. I found out today that the National Library acquired them in 1923.

He discovered that it was likely Ezekiel Solomon had the full set of prayer books at one point.

I'm not sure who bought these prayer books during this auction, but I received correspondence that they sold for $16,000USD.

Does faith unite us across time and space?

On July 23, 1769 Ezekiel Solomon married Marie Elizabeth Louise Dubois, also called Okimabinesikwe. Louise was Roman Catholic. They married in Montreal at Christ Anglican Church. During this time, Anglican services were held in the chapels of Catholic Churches in Montreal. Christ Church wouldn't have its own space until 1789, a church given to them by the Jesuits. After the marriage, Ezekiel and Louise continued to live as an interfaith couple, practicing their respective religions.

Some suggest that she may have been First Nations or Métis, but there is no concrete evidence to confirm. Most researchers suggest she was likely French or Métis. She was a devout Catholic, noted as a witness or godparent on many baptismal records. There is evidence that she ran the business (or part of the business) while he was away.

According to researcher Paul King, Louise Dubois is recorded at least once as the “Merchant Company” who engaged voyageur Alexandre Petis on 26 March 1783 to carry merchandise. Louise and Ezekiel had six children, all born in Montreal between 1773 and 1778. The children were baptized Roman Catholic and the children in each subsequent generation in my line, were also baptized Roman Catholic (including me).

What presence teaches...

When I consider the "knowing presence as the ripples," I wonder if when I spend time with you, River, (a place of spiritual connection for me) I feel connected to these particular ancestors (Ezekiel and Louise) because of faith?

Is my decision to live a spiritual life somehow connected by ancestral threads to the spirituality of those that came before me?

If trauma can be passed through generations, the psychological harms affecting descendants who were not directly exposed to the original traumatic event, then I wonder if faith and spirituality can be passed along energetically too?

What is the research into intergenerational spirituality? Could the psychological benefits of faith be shared with descendants across generations through blood memory?

What is one way you’ve noticed an ancestor’s presence this week?

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