If the Land Was Stolen, Give It Back
If the Land Was Stolen, Give It Back
Words are cheap. Deeds are not.
Brian C. Joondeph | July 6, 2026
Recently, I was invited to attend a Sunday service at a Methodist church rather than my regular church.
The congregation was small, perhaps a few dozen people. Before the service began, the pastor introduced herself, shared her preferred pronouns, and then solemnly informed us that we were gathered on stolen land.
The land, she explained, once belonged to Native American tribes that lived in the area long before Denver existed.
I sat quietly and listened. Then a simple question occurred to me.
If the land was stolen, why are we still sitting on it? To my knowledge, the church owns the valuable piece of property in an upscale Denver neighborhood.
If I knowingly occupy stolen property, I have a moral obligation to return it to its rightful owner. Merely acknowledging that it was stolen does not absolve me of responsibility.
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Imagine explaining to the police that you know a car in your garage was stolen but you plan to keep driving it while periodically expressing regret. That defense would not get very far.
Yet this is precisely the logic behind the modern ritual of land acknowledgments.
Over the past several years, universities, churches, government agencies, nonprofit organizations, and even sporting events have begun opening meetings with statements recognizing that they occupy land once inhabited by indigenous peoples.
These declarations have become almost mandatory among progressive institutions. They are delivered with great solemnity, usually without anyone asking the obvious follow-up question.
When will you be giving the land back?
The answer, of course, is never.
The contradiction is difficult to miss.
If these institutions genuinely believe they are occupying stolen property, then........
