Last month some well meaning birders directed me to what quite possibly might be the stinkiest place on the planet. In Port Norris, New Jersey there is a pile of clam shells that must be at least 30 feet high. Someone suggested that a way to endure the smell was to think of it as leftovers from last night’s seafood dinner. That would be OK except that it smells more like last month’s seafood dinner! On top of that, to find the birds, one must walk on grassy impoundments that are a tick nursery. After my short visit there I picked a dozen ticks off various parts of my body. Joining the assault are swarms of winged blood-suckers of varying shapes and sizes. It may seem at this point that the birders weren’t so well meaning after all. Considering that they, like we, were scouting for sites for birds in advance of the World Series of Birding perhaps they were tossing us a red herring (it certainly smelled like a dead fish!) Standing downwind of the malodorous mountain of shells, being eaten alive by tiny flying insects in the sweltering heat, knowing that ticks were at that very moment anticipating the taste of my blood, and all the while not seeing or hearing the King Rail that I was there to find, I was still willing to trust the information. Our team had been told about this bird and this location by the team that won the previous year (and repeated this past year). Actually, I had no good reason to trust them beyond the fact that the whole event hinges on trust. When the teams arrive at the finish line with their bird lists they have been running around New Jersey for the previous 24 hours completely unmonitored. The only system preventing rampant lying and cheating is the honor system. All in all, that is a pretty good system. Not only does that encourage trustworthiness, it also makes this perhaps the friendliest competition in the world.
Out on that miserable dike I met a very pleasant fellow scout who confirmed that he had previously heard a King Rail at this location and shared a wealth of other information with me. He told me of a place to find a Prothonotary Warbler. Later that week when I saw him again I was able to thank him for that with the news that additionally I had found a Kentucky Warbler at the same location. Teams were also free with tips and tricks on finding birds and getting them to reveal themselves.
This got me to thinking about Jesus’ command that we should love our enemies. It is too easy to approach much of what Jesus taught with the attitude that it is a lofty ideal beyond our reach. But my experience with the generosity of my competitors at the World Series of Birding made me realize that the best way to defeat your enemies is to treat them as your friends. I don’t ever expect our team to win the World Series, but since I could never muster any animosity toward other teams I could never feel like a loser. This “love your enemy” stuff is actually more practical than lofty. If more of us could truly believe that it works then maybe some day they will have a war and nobody will show up!
