Q & A with Regis St. Michael’s PhD Student Noah MacDonald
PhD student Noah MacDonald has a foot in two worlds: he is a member of Michipicoten First Nation and a canon lawyer at the Archdiocese of Toronto.
As a PhD student engaged in theological studies at Regis St. Michael’s Faculty of Theology, his research begins from a recognition of the theological wisdom that exists in Anishinaabe communities, and how Anishinaabe Catholics might draw from practices like Mino-bimaadiziwin – meaning a life of balance – to reclaim their Indigenous identities, hold dual religious beliefs, and establish reciprocal exchanges of knowledge.
St. Mike’s was honoured to have him recently serve as the Feather Bearer at the university’s Faculty of Arts and Science Convocations.
To mark National Indigenous Peoples Day, we spoke with Noah about how his research on Indigenous identity and expressions of Catholic faith is bringing Indigenous voices into the academic life of Regis St. Michael’s and drawing attention to areas where the Church needs help with reconciliation – all work shaped by his own experience of holding two identities at once.
Tell us about your doctoral research.
It’s roughly titled ‘Anishinaabe Catholic Expressions of Faith and Ecclesial Self-Determination’. I’m looking into what it means for Indigenous Catholics, specifically Anishinaabe Catholics, to exercise self-determination in their faith, whether through inculturation or dual religious participation. I want to listen closely to Anishinaabe Catholic voices to identify both the barriers and pathways to authentic expressions of faith that serve those both parts of their spirit.
As someone who is Anishinaabe and Catholic, how has your own identity shaped the way you approach this research?
One of the guiding methodologies for this research comes from an Anishinaabe legal scholar Deborah McGregor of Osgoode Hall Law School, titled Towards an Anishinaabe Research Paradigm, which describes how Anishinaabe can reclaim their knowledge and stories through a process of self-transformation.
Doing this research has let me learn more about myself, my community, and my culture, and to help make those stories heard. I’m already finding opportunities for that transformation, whether through participating in new ceremonies, meeting other Indigenous Catholics and hearing their stories, or finding ways to advocate for people who still face barriers within the Church or other institutions.
It’s a long process, but one I try to pursue through Mino-bimaadiziwin, which means a life of balance, something all Anishinaabe are called to do. The journey isn’t a straight path, and it won’t always be perfect, but pursuing balance — in faith, body, and spirit — is what matters. It’s a reminder to walk the road in a good way. As an Anishinaabe Catholic, understanding that balance is central to this work. I have a foot in both worlds: an active member of the Catholic Church and a canon lawyer at the archdiocese, but also a member of my community and making sure that part of myself is fulfilled too.
Over the course of your research, what has surprised you the most?
How difficult it’s been to find written texts from Anishinaabe Catholic authors or theologians. That may be due to the barriers Indigenous scholars have faced in academia, but it’s helped me recognize that Indigenous people have long had the capacity to be theologians, bringing knowledge to the whole Church through ministry in their own communities.
I was in a listening circle with an elder, talking about ways to advance Indigenous Catholic rites in the Church. I mentioned looking into a particular theologian, and the elder stopped me and said: we have our own theologians, and they’re not at Regis or Boston College, they’re in our communities, and that’s where we start. Recognizing the theological wisdom that already exists in our communities was my starting point. My work isn’t starting from scratch; I’m building on knowledge that exists in a robust, if not conventionally written, form.
It’s a privilege to study theology and explore these ideas, and one I take seriously, because I’m standing on the shoulders of people doing this work in their own communities, often without the opportunities I’ve been given. Balancing academic research with the knowledge that already exists in my community has been one of the real challenges of coming from an academic background.
How does this research connect with larger conversations regarding reconciliation?
This research exists within that larger conversation, and it’s also drawn me into other areas where the Church needs help with reconciliation.
I recently returned from a knowledge-sharing symposium on the Doctrine of Discovery, organized by the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, the U.S. bishops, and the Dicastery for Integral Human Development. It followed the Vatican’s 2023 repudiation of the Doctrine of Discovery, and the promised follow-up brought together Indigenous voices, academics, historians, and legal scholars to examine its impacts. I was glad to be part of that conversation.
I’ve also been working with the Our Lady of Guadalupe Circle, an Indigenous Catholic advisory body that works with the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops and other major Catholic institutions, including the Knights of Columbus, Development and Peace, and various religious congregations across Canada, to help bring reconciliation forward between the Church and Indigenous partners.
These roles have helped me understand the broader context of reconciliation in Canada. I’ve come to recognize that the work has to start with my own community first, building empowerment and encouraging movements of self-determination from within, since Indigenous people aren’t a monolith. Real change must come from the community’s own will. It’s a long journey, and this is a small part of it, but it’s given me meaningful opportunities to support reconciliation work within the Church.
How can the Regis St. Michael community support these efforts?
I think it comes down to friendships and strategic partnerships with Indigenous communities and Indigenous Catholic communities. One example is the Anishinaabe Spiritual Centre in Espanola, about an hour north of Sudbury. Built in the 1980s, it serves as a training ground for Anishinaabe Catholic leadership within the Church, originally established by the Jesuits and now run in partnership between local Indigenous members and the Diocese of Sault Ste. Marie. Regis has a long history with the centre’s ministry weekends, where mainly women come to learn theology and pastoral ministry to bring back to their own communities. For years, Jesuit professors traveled up once a month to teach. Now it’s a mix of professors and PhD students, myself included, and we’re realizing we’re not just there to teach, we’re there to learn too. That reciprocal exchange of knowledge has been impactful for all of us.
I think there’s a real opportunity for Regis St. Michael’s to support Indigenous Catholic self-determination movements, particularly across Ontario, and to help make Indigenous voices more present and heard at the university. Finding ways to foster friendship and partnership is exciting work, and I hope to see more of it.
Why was it important to you to pursue this work at Regis and St. Mike’s?
There’s something special about the connection between the Anishinaabe and the Jesuits — continuing that tradition matters to me. Working with Regis College President Gordon Rixon, SJ, on the Walking in Service project, funded through the Lilly Endowment’s Pathways for Tomorrow Initiative, has been life changing in that respect. As a Jesuit who has spent time in Anishinaabe communities throughout northern Ontario, Gordon understands the strong connection between Anishinaabe Catholicism and Ignatian spirituality, especially in the Great Lakes region. I can trace my family back six generations, and every one of them received their sacraments from a Jesuit missionary, from the very beginning of my community’s relationship with Catholicism. There’s a deep, enduring friendship between the Anishinaabe and the Jesuits, one with real highs and lows, but one that has lasted. Working with Gordon connects us both to our ancestors: his, through his Jesuit brothers, and mine, through generations of that relationship.
I also knew Regis St. Michael’s was an open environment, one where I’d have the freedom and flexibility to explore new ideas, and where I’d be learning within a global, ecumenical community: from Anglican and Mennonite scholars, from colleagues in Africa and South America. That global, ecumenical environment at Regis and within the TST community has opened me to worldviews well beyond my own experience of Catholic education. The gifts we all bring to that community together are truly remarkable.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
