MANDAREE, N.D. - The Catholic nun and tribal elder saved pennies, organized rummage sales and sold aluminum cans for the last two decades with the goal of building a new church and not just an ordinary church.

Sister Lucille Heidt and tribal elder Rosemarie Mandan, who both live on the Fort Berthold Reservation in North Dakota, can now claim that mission accomplished.

About 400 people gathered recently at St. Anthony Catholic Church in Mandaree for the dedication of the new earth lodge church, a symphony of earth, wood and light. It replaces the white, block-shaped church with a collapsing roof, no running water and crumbling basement that served the community for more than a century.

"The pews were getting worn pretty well," said Sister Heidt, who's worked at St. Anthony for 19 years. "When you would sit down, you would sit down pretty cautiously to make sure it wasn't going to break on you."

The 76-year-old Mandan a citizen of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation at Fort Berthold retired 21 years ago from the Department of Defense in Philadelphia. She returned to the Mandaree community and joined an ongoing community effort to build a new church, which started in 1978 when an anonymous donor contributed $5,000.

The fund reached upward of $88,000 around 1987, Mandan said.

At that time, she and Sister Heidt joined forces to raise money for the building.

Each year, the church fund grew. Finally, Mandan asked Father Steven Kranz of St. Anthony to set a fundraising goal. They agreed on $120,000.

"By golly, we reached it," said Mandan.

As momentum for the church grew, the community agreed the building should reflect the three tribes' culture and a better way of life.

"I was driven," said Mandan. "We really need a church." She envisioned two buildings, one for worship and one for gatherings.

The fundraising continued.

The 71-year-old nun used to load her car with rummage sale clothes, hauling them from her home in New Town to Mandaree. Eventually, a thrift store in a nearby town began donating semi-loads of clothes to the church. It turned into a weekly sales event. A bag of clothes was priced at $5 on peak selling days. Others arrived and sold lunch.

"It was amazing how much money we made," said the sister. "People would come and browse all day long. It was neat to get all these people together."

The building fund grew. And that might be the end of the story for Mandaree's new and improved Catholic church. But as of yet, no one knew what it would look like.

In 2002, she attended a Lewis and Clark bicentennial meeting where she met Steve Erban. "No coincidences, right?" said Mandan.

Erban told her he was an architect.

Oh, we need one, she said.

Erban of Stillwater, Minn., has more than 35 years of architectural experience. His family has built more than 200 churches.

Mandan convinced him to come to Mandaree.

"I've never been called by a congregation that said, 'Steve, this is what we need to do. And don't worry about the checkbook.' "

The trick became one of matching money to a church vision that reflected Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara culture. Those closest to the church project wanted it to resemble an earth lodge, a round, earth-and-willow structure that was the traditional home of all three tribes on the reservation.

Initial projected costs topped $600,000.

The church hierarchy began to question the need for the cultural-based structure. "He didn't know anything about earth lodges," said Mandan of the bishop.

At one point, the diocese brought in a second architect to design a blocky church not much different than the old one. "It was virtually a white man's church," said Erban, a non-Indian. "It reflected absolutely no culture other than what could have come across the prairie but not what was at the prairie."

The church bishop capped building costs at $400,000. Mandan's dream of two buildings was reduced to one. Still, no one was ready to give up the earth lodge where the community could pray as one to the Creator.

Erban who grew up near the Rocky Boy's Reservation in Montana and once lived near Fort Berthold shared the Mandaree dream.

"I said, whoever does your church up there, it would be a travesty not to reflect the culture," he said. "This will be your only chance. This is your only shot."

He has always held a reverence for the earth lodge homes of the Three Affiliated Tribes. "They used the earth to survive," he said.

Erban has never forgotten a trip he made as a boy to play in a basketball game on the Rocky Boy's Reservation in the 1950s. The gym, court and players were like any other he'd seen. But he sensed life there was tougher than the one he knew.

Someday, he thought, he would be in a position to make a difference. "And this came up."

He agreed to design and oversee construction of the church for $300,000, covering an additional $30,000 in expenses from his own pocket. The final church costs parking lot, cabinetry and flooring totaled close to $400,000.

"People can't believe we're debt free," said Sister Heidt.

Erban wanted the church as much as the women who picked up sticky pop cans from ditches for the past two decades.

"If I turn my back, it will go downhill," he said. And then, the community will end up with something that reflects a history of acculturation rather than a story of their culture, the architect said.

His drawings reflected tribal concepts of architecture.

Upon walking up to the church's earth-covered front entrance, it's hard to imagine what's behind the doors. "And then you're inside," Erban said. "Boom. It hits you."

Skylights at the center of the building take the place of what would have been a smoke hole in a traditional lodge. And richly grained wood on the ceiling replaces what would have been covered by willows. Four pillars in the center of the church artfully replicates what would have been four sturdy cottonwood posts.

"I've come to love what the earth lodge has done for the Native people," said the nun.

The traditional dwelling has been given a new life in Mandaree. The earth lodge church is a spiritual refuge and its doors are always open.

"My goal was that I hoped that as many of the young people grow up in Mandaree and move on that … that they can understand the relationship between their beliefs and their heritage," said Erban. "And know there isn't a fine line."