Our God Is Gichi-Manidoo

Among our people, this is not a new sentence.

When we say, “Our God is Gichi-Manidoo,” we are not making a comparison, and we are not borrowing language to explain ourselves to anyone else. We are speaking plainly about who we have always known. Gichi-Manidoo is the Great Spirit, the Great Mystery, the source of life and order. This understanding did not arrive with churches or missionaries. It existed with us long before contact, long before English had words for what our elders already knew.

Gichi-Manidoo is not a human being in the sky. Gichi-Manidoo is the one who gives life, breath, law, and balance to all things, it is pure light. Everything that exists carries manidoo, spirit, but all spirit comes from Gichi-Manidoo. That is why elders say Gichi-Manidoo cannot be fully explained. You do not define the Mystery. You live in relationship with it.

According to Anishinaabeg tradition, Michilimackinac, later named by European settlers as Mackinac Island, in Michigan, was the home of Gitche Manitou, and some Anishinaabeg tribes would make pilgrimages there for rituals devoted to the spirit

For many Ojibwe families, especially around the northern shores of the Great Lakes, the English word “God” has been used for generations as a way to speak across languages. Elders will often say “God” and “Gichi-Manidoo” in the same breath, not because they are confused, but because they are bilingual. The meaning does not change. The responsibility does not change. The source does not change.

A God Who Speaks With Purpose

Gichi-Manidoo does speak.

But not constantly, and not casually.

When Gichi-Manidoo speaks, it is because the people need guidance for survival, for balance, or for what is coming. Our teachings say that Gichi-Manidoo spoke through the Megis a sacred Light that rose from the water and stood in the sky. From that Light came a Voice. The Light itself was not worshiped. It was the way the Voice was carried so the people could hear.

Through that Voice came the Seven Fires teaching. Through that Voice came instruction across generations: when to move, when to wait, when division would come, when suffering would arrive, and when the people would be given a final choice. The prophets who carried these messages were not chosen for power or status. One was old, one was strong, one appeared as two, one was a child. Gichi-Manidoo does not choose messengers the way humans choose leaders.

This is important. Our God does not force obedience. Our God guides, warns, and allows choice. That is why responsibility rests with the people.

A God of Relationship, Not Fear

Ojibwe teachings are not built on fear of God. They are built on relationship.

To live rightly mino-bimaadiziwin is to live in balance with Gichi-Manidoo’s order. That balance is reflected in how we treat the land, how we treat one another, how we honor our responsibilities to family, clan, and future generations. When balance is broken, consequences follow not as punishment, but as correction.

Elders often say you do not prove Gichi-Manidoo with words. You prove Gichi-Manidoo with how you live.

This is why belief alone has never been enough. Conduct matters. Humility matters. Listening matters.

Law Older Than Governments

For our people, law does not begin with courts or written codes. Law comes from Gichi-Manidoo and is reflected in creation itself. The land has law. Water has law. Kinship has law. Agreements made in good faith carry law.

That is why treaties were sacred to our ancestors. When leaders entered into treaties, they did so knowing Gichi-Manidoo was listening. These were not merely political agreements. They were spiritual obligations witnessed by the Great Mystery. Breaking them was not only unjust it was out of balance.

This understanding remains, even when governments forget it. Time does not erase responsibility. Silence does not undo obligation.

Not a Borrowed God

It matters to say this clearly.

We did not borrow Gichi-Manidoo from anyone.

We did not discover Gichi-Manidoo after contact.

We did not rename another people’s God.

Gichi-Manidoo was known here before ships crossed the water. Some of our people later learned other names and other teachings, and those histories are complex. But they do not erase the first knowing. They do not replace the original relationship.

When we say “Our God is Gichi-Manidoo,” we are not rejecting others. We are simply naming our own truth.

Still Listening

Gichi-Manidoo did not leave during the long darkness. Not when ceremonies were banned. Not when language was punished. Not when children were taken and identity was attacked. The fire grew small, but it did not go out.

The Seventh Fire teaching reminds us that the final choice was left to the people. Gichi-Manidoo guides, but does not decide for us. Healing or destruction depends on how we choose to live now how we treat the land, how we honor agreements, how we remember who we are.

That teaching is not finished.

Why We Say It Plainly

So when we say, “Our God is Gichi-Manidoo,” we are not being careless with words. We are being honest. We are speaking from inside our own house, using the language available to us, naming what has always been true.

We say it with respect.

We say it with humility.

And we say it knowing that the Mystery is still greater than any sentence we can write.

We are still listening. To the name,

Gichi Manidoo