What Keeps You Going?

Around 6:00 PM on May 14, the Wicked Meadow Loons were standing on a stone jetty on Delaware Bay watching a storm moving in from the west. We were also watching a couple of Purple Sandpipers hunkering down doing their best impression of the surrounding rocks as well as the only Ruddy Turnstone we would encounter that day. It turned out to be a pivotal moment. As the lightning struck and then the rain, even some hail, started to come down, it was obvious that some time would be lost in our 24-hour birding marathon known as the 33^rd annual World Series of Birding. 

For the better part of the next hour, the best we could muster was standing in a beachside shelter hoping for a bird we had yet to record to fly by. But all was not lost. While we didn’t add any species to our list during that vigil, we did a few important things. First, we took a bit of the sting out of the situation by reminding ourselves that we were on a level playing field; it was indeed raining on all the other teams as well. Second, we did the most important thing, we resolved to carry on. It is in those moments we chose not to throw in the towel that we learn the most about ourselves, about what truly matters to us. Third, we made a plan, quickly calculating which species we had scouted where and how much time we had until darkness changed which birds we could identify, we laid out what turned out to be a winning strategy. When we submitted our list at midnight after the King Rail refused to call (which he did at 12:15) the total was 190 species, a dozen species more than the team that came in second.

There is strength to be found in adversity. Two decades of chasing victory in the World Series of Birding, narrowly missing first place the last two times I competed, made me want it enough to dig deep. A harsh reality of an annual competition is that if you make a mistake you have to wait 365 days to correct it. Deciding in that moment in the storm that we would double down instead of giving up was not only the right decision; it also was the empowering one. Choosing to go for it, ignoring exhaustion and discomfort, was invigorating.  We found the stamina to carry on to the finish, and then some.

It is one thing to choose to make lemonade when life hands you lemons. It is indeed smart to make the most of a bad situation. But what if you dug a little deeper and realized that with all this lemonade you could open a stand and make some money as well? I truly believe that that sort of attitude is available to us when we turn to God in our distress. When we cry out for divine help God sends the Holy Spirit, which seems all soft, and quiet, and innocent as a dove, but remember that it was this Spirit that blew out the locked doors the disciples were hiding behind, literally got them fired up, and gave them the power to go out and change the world forever. That power is no less available to us today, if only we dare ask.

How Can I Keep from Singing?

Let's face it, some sports just don't seem that exciting. Personally, I agree with Mark Twain that golf is a good walk ruined. To be fair, I've never tried the real thing, but the kind with windmills and water fountains, is relatively interesting because of the windmills and water fountains...and the promise of ice cream after the 18th hole. And the very idea of watching it on TV just seems absurd to me. Oh, I get it, if you are into it then it can become exciting because you can understand what it going on. Well, I participate in a sport whose very name sounds like an oxymoron: competitive birding. And I can absolutely assure you that it is the most boring spectator sport in the universe. If the sport were broadcast and you were to watch a team in the field, you would see a car going faster than it probably should on a back road in some secluded location, come to a quick stop, see the team members jump out of the car and stand silently, scanning the surroundings poised to raise their binoculars if needed, but for the most part simply listening. Oh, it might get really intense and they may cup their hands

around their ears to increase the chance of hearing a distant song. Then one of two things happen. If they are successful, someone points in the direction of some quiet, tiny sound and says “there!” If the team members are are alert and good birders they will nod and say “got it,” leading to a rush to get back into the car, which will peel out and be gone in an instant. If they are not so lucky, one or more of team mates has to admit that they didn't hear it and the waiting is extended. Even worse, sometimes the vigil yields nothing, the target bird remains silent as the seconds tick by. As the time approaches two minutes, someone is likely to mutter “this is killing us,” or “we are dying here.” Then someone takes the reins and declares that the team doesn't have time to spare and must go. The re-entry tends to go a bit slower, not only from the deflated energy of missing the bird, but in the bedrock unfounded optimism that the bird will call in the very last moment.

Scintillating, huh? I did my best to make it sound interesting, but I am well aware that unless you are a skilled participant in the sport of Big Day Birding (that's what we birders call the a day when the idea is to list as many species as possible) then you wouldn't have even enough knowledge to appreciate what the birders are doing and the boredom of being a spectator could only be broken by the humor of the knowledge that these otherwise intelligent individuals are acting in an absolutely insane manner. Who in their right mind would spend a week of sleep deprived bird watching in order to gather information precise enough to schedule 24 hours of 2 minute stops in order to be the team at midnight with the highest number of total species based totally on the honor system in order to win the prize of...wait for it...their name on a trophy?!?! Well, me for one. In less than 24 hours I'm leaving for New Jersey to compete in my 21st World Series of Birding hoping that this is the year my

name goes on the first place trophy having finished 3rd, 2nd, and 2nd the last three times I competed.

I share all of that to make one simple, but vital point about bird watching. That is that it involves a lot more listening than it does watching. Particularly in the spring, birds not only love to sing, but they cannot not sing. That's right, they are hardwired to sing. And fortunate for those of us chasing them that when their hormone levels rise in the spring as they anticipate breeding it causes them to sing. So it is not arriving on territory that triggers the behavior, it starts before they get there, so we are blessed with springs filled with music in the air, and the opportunity to find the singers.

When you hear it, you may think it is more babble than symphony, but regardless it is clearly the work of multiple voices together at once. For the most part, each species has its own unique songs and calls that it uses both to attract and repel. As humans, we can relate to birds singing to attract the attention of potential suitors, isn't that the reason behind so many of our love songs? We have less connection with the use of song as a way of defending territory. Birds stake their claim to an area by singing and often some visual displays. Their practice is overwhelmingly non-violent. If only we humans were to learn from them and settle our disputes with a battle of the bands instead of a clash of armies. 

Another thing we could stand to learn is that even if it doesn't always sound perfectly orchestrated to our ears, multiple voices are always better than unison. We don't all have to sound the same. The ancient tale of the Tower of Babel is meant to teach us that lesson. All of humanity was attempting to unite in an effort to establish a single identity. It was symbolized in the tower that would be higher than anything that had come before, a monument to human achievement. But it would have come at the expense of diversity. That is the point made by the scattering of the people and confusing of their language. The message is that God likes diversity, that the multiple voices are preferred even if they sound more like babble than symphony. 

The story of Pentecost is often preached as the answer to Babel. That is, the scattering and diversity is brought back together in unity. Granted, the birth of the church is a celebration of unity out of diversity, but that unity does not come at the cost of diversity. This is not a great homogenization of differences. Think about it as ice cream. Unless you are lactose intolerant, it is likely that you would agree that ice cream is good. You may not like all the many flavors, but you likely have a favorite or two. Your favorite is definitely not the favorite of everyone. Variety is a real positive when it comes to ice cream flavors. I think we can all agree that if the goal of ice cream unity were to be achieved by mixing all the flavors together it would result in ruining a good thing. When it comes to ice cream, diversity is a gift. Why should it be any less true when speaking about people and their gifts? Notice that in the Pentecost story the miracle is not that everyone suddenly understands the Aramaic that the Apostles are speaking, but rather that the diversity-loving Holy Spirit empowers the Apostles to speak a variety of languages.

Trying to identify birds from their songs is an opportunity to learn this Pentecost lesson. We have to learn to listen. We have to pay attention to, and value differences. We have to associate the unknown with something known so that we can learn what amounts to a new language. In doing so, we make connections across the divide, even the divide between species. With practice and patience, we can not only learn what the birds are saying, but in some cases we can even enter the conversation. Most birds will respond to an imitation of their song. Wouldn't it be fun to be Doctor Doolittle? While you may not talk to the animals, learn their languages, you most certainly can talk to your neighbor, who even if they speak English, may speak a different “language” than yours. The big story of scripture, from Babel to Pentecost, and creation itself, points us in the direction of valuing diversity. All you need to do is stop your own babble long enough to hear the symphony that is going on around you. And in that quiet you begin to make the connections that the Wild Goose of God's Spirit that you have been chasing, wants you to make. Let those who have ears to hear, listen.

Preposition Proposition: Habitat

Habitat is one key to making a proper identification. If you are in the middle of the woods, it is highly unlikely that you will find Meadowlarks and Bobolinks and in the middle of a grassland a Pileated Woodpecker or Northern Goshawk will only be passing through. Habitat typically only helps to focus attention on likely species, but one trick that those who bird by ear use is to check the habitat when distinguishing between those species whose song is just a trill. If you are at a wetlands, it is likely a Swamp Sparrow, if you are looking at a stand of conifers, it is likely a Pine Warbler, and if it is a suburban lawn, it is likely a Chipping Sparrow.

When I was on sabbatical a few years ago, one of my greatest expectations was seeing species of birds that I had not seen before because I was going to be traveling west to new areas and new habitats. My first stop was Omaha, not quite west, but certainly not east, the very epitome of Midwest. I was so excited about adding to my life list that I took a taxi to a bird walk. When I got into the woods it started to feel familiar, a riparian forest. I knew what to expect in riparian forest habitat in the east, but what would I discover here? What I quickly discovered was that from an avian perspective, I was still in the east. I didn't add a single lifer that trip. In fact, I had to really struggle to find a Western Meadowlark in Omaha, in part because they are so similar to Eastern Meadowlarks, but also because I was still not quite far enough west to be in their normal range. I fixed that with a trip one day to the sand hills of central Nebraska, where I started picking up some species new to me.
 
Later in my trek, when I got to Arizona, the lifers started adding up. This was due in part to the geography and in part to the habitat. I saw hummingbirds, orioles, and woodpeckers just like I do here in the east, but they were Magnificent Humminbirds, Scott's Orioles, and Acorn Woodpeckers. I also saw birds that were unique to the desert habitat like Greater Roadrunners, Cactus Wrens, and Elegant Trogons.

Knowing your place is a vital practice if you are concerned about identification. That applies both to predicting what you will discover around you, like what I do when I go birding in a new location, and to self-identification as well. Knowing yourself involves knowing your place. Let's take a look at those two things in order. First, knowing the world around you.

The great disorder that plagues Western Civilization is disconnection from place. We used to be people who understood the natural world, primarily because if we didn't understand it, it would kill us. I'm sure I don't have to repeat stories about children not having any idea that milk comes from cows before it comes from the store or quote statistics about how little time children today spend outside to convince you of the problem. Surely you've seen it in your own experience. Personally, I can't get enough time in nature. I find it endlessly fascinating. You know the old expression, “a bad day birdwatching is better than a good day at work.” OK, so maybe it is more popularly associated with fishing, but you get my point. Even with my extensive knowledge and familiarity with birds, there is not a birding trip when I don't experience something new, or at least ask a question I've never asked before. Sometimes the literal wild goose chase that I'm on has that metaphorical impact as well, leading me to explore new things that I hadn't previously consider. Often that is a plant, sometimes an animal, or a sound. Frankly, I can't understand why everyone doesn't find the natural world endlessly fascinating. Now, I understand that I'm a bit of an odd duck here. Take for example, my total disinterest in gardening. For many people, their yards and gardens are the ways that they get into nature. But I have no interest in trying to bend nature to my bidding. I would much rather be surprised by Columbine, Trout Lily, and Lady's Slipper while I'm walking in the woods, than to fertilize, weed, and water just so a tulip, rose, or hydrangea will bloom right outside my door. Believe it or not, I'm also not a fan of bird feeders. To me, feeding the birds is a bit like trying to domesticate them. It certainly is an attempt to entice them to come to us. I find more pleasure in going to them, experiencing them doing whatever they choose and being themselves. But these are just tame examples of a philosophy that can be very dangerous. In fact, it is more theology than philosophy, and it has to do with the translation of a single preposition in the book of Genesis.

In the first chapter of the first book of the Bible we read that God tells humans to subdue the earth and to have dominion over the animals. With a mandate like that coupled with a belief that we are the crown of creation (seeing as we are the last beings created) and a little lower than the angels (something we told ourselves in the Psalms) there is nothing to stop us from doing what we want to creation. Sadly, that is precisely what has happened. We have indeed done as we pleased with the natural resources of the planet and when we are faced with the natural consequences of our exploitation, we have scripture and doctrine to fall back on to justify our behavior and continue on a destructive path. But what if we have been reading the story wrong all along?

We read that at the end of creating, God hands over the keys to humanity. We read that we are to subdue the earth and have dominion over its inhabitants. Or so it seems. Granted, the verb used to describe what we are to do to the land is the same as the one used to describe subjecting a conquered people to your control. And the common translation of the next verb and preposition is to have dominion over. But that pairing could also (perhaps more reasonably) be read as rule with. And even if the intent is to hear that we free rein to do as we want with all of creation, taking total control, recall that this is a story that comes from an ancient people who surely felt subjected to the land and the power of nature. Surely the whole idea of having dominion over creation was only a dream, perhaps heard as a promise from the Creator.

In our day, we have the ability to subdue and dominate, and we have tended to do so in extreme ways. We look at it as progress, but it has come at a very high cost. Not only are we finding that we are quickly running out of space and resources, but we have made disconnection from creation seem normal. We have made the natural unnatural. We have come to the conclusion that we are apart from nature, not a part of nature.

It is only after you have relearned your place in the grand scheme of creation that you can get to know your true self. As creatures, we are created to have our place in creation, not simply literally a physical place, but metaphorically we have our place, which is our sweet spot. We have that thing that makes our heart sing, that which makes us feel most fully alive. It has been said that there are two important days in your life, the day you were born and the day you discover why you were born. Our faith story suggests that that second day is the day that you are born again, or born anew from above. When you experience that day (or days, as the journey continues to unfold) you re-join the human family in a new way. As Christians, we call this way the Body of Christ.

As we read in 1Corinthians 12, this body, like all bodies is made up of many parts. No body can exist as only one part, we need each other. Remember that you are incapable of truly living, knowing your full intended life, apart from others. I would argue that those others include the whole of creation. But equally remember that those others, including the whole of creation, are counting on you. And what are they counting on you to do? They are counting on you to be you! That understanding may come in a dramatic Aha! moment, just don't forget that that moment is a door that opens up new possibilities, which surely will include more Aha! moments as you find your place in the living, breathing, always changing, always fascinating world that you were born, and born anew, into.

How Can You People Sleep?

It has started again. This time of year it doesn’t matter if I set my alarm or not as I am awake at the crack of dawn, quite literally. My body knows that the sun is about to rise and agrees that it is time to rise to greet the day. This happens even if the window is closed, keeping me from experiencing the world waking up. If the window is open allowing me to hear bird song then it is game over, my brain will instantly start working to identify the birds and my body prepares for the chase. I just can’t comprehend how other people can sleep through this. More than that, I can’t begin to understand how listening to nature sounds is a way to aid calming down to fall asleep. The exact opposite is that case. Nature sounds are just begging to be identified thus activating, not deactivating the brain.

What? That’s not the case for you? I do get it, we are not all wired the same, and, yes, I am a bird-brain. But isn’t that an important lesson? It is natural to start with the familiar and known when trying to make sense of the world. Unfortunately, it is too easy to start with ourselves and project expectations on others based solely on our limited experience of life.  When people differ from us in thought or behavior it is a challenge. Understanding other perspectives takes work; work that we might not choose to commit our energy toward. Doing that work begins with a belief that the outcome will be worthwhile. I certainly hope that you believe that understanding others is a worthwhile goal, even if it doesn’t result in some discernible personal gain. I contend that simply gaining new knowledge based on the perspective and insight of others is a reward in itself.

That certainly is the case with my pursuit of birds. You may not be able to relate in any way to the insanity I engage in to find rarities or in racking up numbers of species. You may not be able to relate even to desire to do it. But you can appreciate that for me this is a pursuit that fills me with satisfaction and somehow helps me fulfill my purpose.  And the metaphor of chasing birds can also be instructive. When I give in to the desire to explore I begin with an idea about what I will find, but there is no bird trip that doesn’t include both surprise and disappointment. The not knowing is motivation enough. So even if birds aren’t your thing, there is a world of people and ideas out there to explore. How can you people sleep?

G.I.S.S.: Noticing the Big Picture

During  World War 2, the British soldiers arming the anti-aircraft guns had a dilemma. They had to be able to distinguish German planes from British plans quickly, and needless to say, accurately. So they developed a system called GISS, which stands for General Impression, Size and Shape. Not surprisingly, the planes from the different sides were built differently and since bombers and fighters serve different purposes, they looked different. At first glance they may seem similar, but if you trained your first glance to be discriminating you could tell the differences with just a glance. 

Bird watchers employ the same skill set, particularly in relation to soaring birds. Hawk watchers know to look at the wings of soaring birds to tell them apart. If the silhouette of the soaring bird involves long wings with spread feathers at the tip, then, in this area, it is either a vulture or an eagle. The most common vulture here is the Turkey Vulture. It gives itself away by soaring with its wings in slightly upturned position called a dihedral. No other bird soars this way, so the dihedral is diagnostic.

One problem with soaring birds is the difficulty of determining the size of the bird. With nothing but sky, it is impossible to know how far away a bird is, leaving no way to determine the relative size. But the proportion of the parts of the bird will always remain constant within a species. Thus when a hawk is seen soaring, the length and shape of the wings and the tail relative to the overall size of the bird is sufficient to identify at least the family of the bird. Buteos, like Red-tailed  and Red-shouldered Hawks, have rounded, broad wings and short tails. Accipiters, like Cooper's and Sharp-shinned Hawks, have long rounded wings and long tails. If you see a hawk-like bird with pointed wings, think falcon.

This sort of quick sorting based on first impressions is a practice that helps a person take in the big picture. Rather than going first to the particulars that make a bird unique and trying to identify from details, it is an easier and superior practice to start with the big picture and test assumptions from that perspective as you narrow the identification from the general down to the specific.

Too often, the temptation is to do this backwards, to go from the specific to the general, sometimes attempting to make all the pieces fit to make the identification we want to see. In church circles this is called proof-texting. It is tempting once one holds a doctrine that feels comfortable to find all the various verses in the Bible that appear to support that position. I say “appear to support” because sometimes they have to be taken out of context. Consider how John 3:16 is so often used to threaten condemnation if one doesn't believe correctly. Instead of seeing the love of God that begins the verse, some folks would rather emphasize the “whomever shall believe” meaning that it is not everyone, so you better start believing in Jesus if you want to be saved. But if you were to take a General Impression, Size and Shape approach to the verse and look at it in context, you would see that the very next verse makes it clear that Jesus came not to condemn the world but to save it! In fact, taken together these verse are a good beginning for a case for universal salvation.

Unfortunately, this sort of cherry-picking seems to have become an epidemic in recent years. Take climate change as an example. The overwhelming weight of scientific findings show that the earth is warming and with that will come drastic climatic changes that could have dire impact on all of us. But the recent political debate on the issue in our country has those who oppose regulations proposed to slow the increase in greenhouse gases denying the science instead of debating policy. The tactic is to find one or two scientific reports that raise doubts about climate change and claim that that debunks it. This sort of argument is like saying that there is no hunger in the world because some of us have more food than we can eat. Pulling back to see the big picture is vital when we have become so lost in details that we can no longer imagine any other possibilities.

Consider the story of the Flood. How do we hear that story? Is it a story about God punishing the world or saving the world? A bit of important information to consider before you answer is that this was not the only story of a devastating global flood being told at the time. Remember that in Mesopotamia flooding was common. In fact, flooding was what made the Fertile Crescent so fertile. Any particularly large flood would be devastating to all that the local people knew to exist and would seem quite literally like the end of the world. It would be natural to tell stories in order to remember the events and to make sense of them. All of these tales involved an element of judgment, but the one that the Hebrew people told also contained a promise and an element of hope. Think about it for a minute, is the moral of the story usually at the beginning or the end? This story may begin with the judgment of God, but it ends in covenant. The dove and the rainbow remain today as powerful images of peace exactly because this story ends with a covenant between God and all of creation which encourages the people to believe that even if we don't always deserve it, God is committed to blessing us.

Granted, natural disasters continue to occur, and it doesn't help that we refer to them as “acts of God.” So it is tempting to fall into the trap of believing that God is still in the punishment business. But we know that in natural disasters the innocent suffer. Don't you think that if God were to send judgment that God would be more capable of punishing those who really deserve it? No, the GISS of God is the covenant of blessing, not the enforcement of consequences for broken contracts.

But what if God is attempting to get our attention through nature? We certainly sense that when we behold the wonder of the natural world with awe. Could it be that even in natural disasters God is speaking? Consider what our response is to disaster. When our fellow human beings suffer, we feel it and we respond as we are able. Disasters bring out our compassion. Isn't that at the heart of the story of the rainbow covenant? In the wake of disaster we share the heart of God in caring for those who suffer and desiring to restore peace and well-being. Perhaps God does speak to us even in the suffering of creation, calling us to compassion. And in our day when we see the very earth itself suffering, is not God shouting?

When I started considering using GISS as metaphor for this message, the fact that it could also stand for the words of the United Church of Christ advertising campaign, God is still speaking was not lost on me. When we step back to discern the big picture of what God is about the one thing that we should clearly discern is that God is not absent. The big picture story about the nature of God is that God is very much involved in the human story. The God of creation, who is responsible for this ever expanding universe and all of its magnificent marvel, this God who is present even at the most distant star, is also intimately concerned with every facet, every nook and cranny of it all. God is as close as the next breath that you take. That is the General Impression, Size and Shape of this God who is very much still speaking.

Original Blessing: Noticing Behavior

One morning before getting out of bed, my wife, who was looking out the window, asked me "Is that a creeper or a nuthatch?" She started to describe the color markings of the bird, but I responded with a question that I hoped would make the identification simple, "What is it doing?" I asked. Unfortunately, the answer was "going up the tree," which didn't limit the options. Had the bird been going head first down the tree, it could only have been a nuthatch. Although the practice is typically called bird watching, a lot of bird identification involves more than visual cues. As in this case, the bird's behavior can help in determining what species it is.

Using behavior in decision making is a good principle to apply to other areas of life as well. Regarding the judgment of others, the Bible reminds us that "by their fruits you will know them." Or in secular terms, the corollary of "don't judge a book by its cover" is good advice regarding the importance of taking note of behavior. We must also be careful when observing behavior not to be too quick to pass judgment even then.

You have probably seen Canada Geese flying in their common V formation. Flying this way puts the burden on the leader while reducing the drag experienced by the other geese in the formation by nearly three quarters! But have you ever watched long enough to see that the geese change leaders? This is a fine lesson is leadership and teamwork taught to us by nature. If you have watched spent time observing this behavior, you will also know that it is often accompanied by a lot of honking. If you or I were driving in traffic doing that much honking our intention would be pretty clear, and it would be far from positive. But how likely is it that the geese the rear are complaining about the goose in the lead? It is much more likely that they are honking as a form of gratitude and encouragement: another lesson from nature, this time about the risk of a rush to judgment.
Or consider a common behavior of crows, mobbing. Perhaps you have seen it. Often it starts with a single crow cawing loudly and repeatedly while swooping down on a perched bird. Sometimes it is hard to see the bird being mobbed. Soon other crows join in the fray. Eventually the bird being mobbed flies off the perch. The curious way that this behavior aids in identification is that if the mobbed bird flies out into open space then it is likely a Red-tailed Hawk. If the bird drops down and into the woods then it is more like a Great Horned Owl. Sure, it could be other species but these are the ones that typically are mobbed by crows, other birds of prey are more typically mobbed by other species, Blue Jays mobbing Barred Owls, for example. The purpose of mobbing is to drive out the predator who is likely to target the young on the nests of the mobbing birds.  There is irony in the crows’ behavior since they are sometimes the mobber and sometimes the mobbee as they are known to rob the nests of smaller birds. What goes around comes around.
Once again, we are on shaky ground should be try to pass judgment. Is the crow the hero for protecting its young or villain for preventing the hawk or owl from feeding their young?  Regardless of opinion, they are all just doing what they are hard-wired to do. They are doing what is in their nature.  Is that nature good or evil? It is complicated, isn’t it? And what about human nature?  It is good or evil? Is our behavior pre-determined and hard wired? How free is free will? It is complicated, isn’t it? So perhaps we should see what the Bible says.

Most of us probably believe that Bible teaches that we are born as sinners, born with what has been called original sin. That doctrine was first expressed by Augustine in the Fourth Century. So what did Christians believe for the more than 300 years before that insight? Likely they were not of one mind.

If you read the story of the Fall, in the third chapter of Genesis, as prescriptive then there is little hope for human nature, and God is in the cursing business because of what our ancestors did. We start the race with a handicap, leaving no hope unless this cursing God chooses to forgive and bless. But if you the story as descriptive then we can see the predicament without judgment: we are curious by nature, hardwired to seek knowledge, ethical decision-making is in our DNA. What is God to do with creatures like this? It is complicated isn't it?

Jesus wants us to understand that this loving God is, always has been, and always will be in the blessing business. Picture the scene where people fretting over the concerns of life have gathered around Jesus. They are feeling that God not only is not coming to intervene but is the very cause of the problems! Then a bird flies by and Jesus says, "Look! See that bird? Does it look worried? Does it look insignificant to you?" Then he pauses, and people start wondering. They think, "Why yes, I suppose it is worried, why shouldn't it be? And well yes, it is just a tiny insignificant bird lost in the flock of so many more. It is hardly worth my attention." But Jesus turns the story upside down telling them that that bird is carefree in the care of God. God not only notices, but God cares, and God provides. And guess what, God is not so busy caring about the little things that God would overlook the big thing that is you!

God is not in the cursing business. God is in the business of paying attention, showing up, providing, and caring. Perhaps it is high time that we stop limiting our knowledge by accepting a theology of original sin, instead learning the eternal story from the birds of the air and the flowers of the field that every little thing is going to be all right because of God's original blessing.

Lunatics & Liars: The Power of Story

In the sixth century on the isle of Iona off the coast of Scotland, a man named Columba founded an abbey, bringing Christianity to the Celtic world. Celtic spirituality has gifted the world with many things, among them being a new name for the Holy Spirit: An Geadh Fiadhaich. Rather than the familiar avian image of the dove, they preferred the Wild Goose. It is not that they didn't know about doves. In fact, Columba literally means dove. No, the image of the goose was preferred because of the wildness of geese. They are free and unfettered. Geese are loud and bold. They do pretty much what they want and are difficult to capture, contain, and tame. They will bite those who try to keep them. Conjuring up images of the untamed and untamable nature of God inspired these Christians to pursue God as one might pursue a goose, on a wild goose chase if you will. This sort of inspiration will land you in places where you may not choose to go yourself and very well may inspire you to feats you may not at first believe are possible.

• The bird will still be there when I can chase it.

• I'll just scan this flock one more time, maybe there is a rarity.

• The bird will show up if I just wait another 15 minutes...half hour...hour... 

You don’t have to be a fan of Doctor Who to appreciate an example from a recent episode in which the Doctor was inspired to an incredible act of perseverance (think billions of years) by a story. Similar to a video game where you have unlimited lives to complete a level but have to start over every time you don’t complete it, that was the Doctor’s predicament. But since he knew he would pass the same way again (and again, and again) he left himself a word of encouragement, literally. That one word was “bird.” The reason for that word was a Brothers Grimm story about a king who asks questions of a wise shepherd boy. It goes like this:

"’How many seconds in eternity?’ The Shepherd Boy says, ‘There is a mountain of pure diamond, it takes an hour to climb it, and an hour to go around it. Every hundred years, a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on the diamond mountain. And when the entire mountain is chiseled away, the first second of eternity will have passed!’"  The Doctor then adds, “You must think that's a helluva long time. Personally? I think that's a helluva bird!” How you hear a story is vital - is the length of eternity a curse or a gift?

Birders tell themselves stories all the time

But an important lesson to learn is not to draw conclusions based solely on wishes. A few years ago at the end of the Super Bowl of Birding (yeah, that's a thing) I had a conversation with another birder that confirmed for me how important it is to be both a dreamer and a skeptic. Earlier in day, my team, the Wicked Pishahs (a totally "inside baseball” pun that works with New England birders) had been at the fish pier in Gloucester where we saw some Thick-billed Murres. We had attempted with a large dose of hope to call them Common Murres, but spent a good deal of time examining them to confirm our identification. Before we left, we saw the Raven Lunatics (you can't make this stuff up) pull in, so we said a friendly hello to the competition, but naturally didn't share the sighting with them. Over pizza, while waiting for the results to be announced, one of the Lunatics told me that we should have stuck around the pier because they found five dovekies there. One dovekie would be remarkable and five would be nearly unheard of, AND he described the precise location where we had just worked hard at identifying the Murres! I tried in the nicest way possible to tell him that his identification was incorrect (I'm not sure I succeeded on the nice part). It was easy to see why they made the call they did, their bird was worth the maximum number of points and also got them a bonus, while ours, while decent, was the lesser value of the two Murres.

Both teams were dreaming that day. Indeed, birders (particularly competitive birders) cannot not be dreamers. If we didn't tell ourselves stories about finding rare birds, or the first bird, or simply more birds, we would never find the motivation to find any birds. We dreamed that the Thick-billed Murres were Common Murres, but once we saw the birds, dreaming turned to skepticism so that we could be confident in our identification. The other team never switched over from dreaming, they didn't allow doubt to get in the way of the identification they wanted.

Too many believers consider doubt to be the opposite of faith, but in truth, faith requires a healthy dose of doubt to keep it useful. If we can't dream of a better day, that day will never dawn. On the other hand, if all we do is dream then we don't have the tools to deal with the hand we are dealt. The opposite of faith is certainty. Specifically, it is a type of certainty that doesn't allow doubt. It is the sort of thing that transforms doctrine into dogma and leads to litmus tests for the faithful and catechisms to keep believers in lock step. The gift of faith is the ability to find truth in the stories we believe, motivating us to always keep searching. The story you believe should provide motivation to go on the Wild Goose Chase, but the practice of being on the chase must also teach you to discern. Experience helps you to be an optimistic skeptic, hoping always for the best, but careful to test what you find to be sure it is right and good, and thus right and good for you.

The ancient Hebrews told a new story when they said Sh'ma Yisra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad, “Hear O Israel, the LORD your God, the LORD is one.” Aside from Zoroastrians, no other belief system at that time told the story of a single deity, for everyone else there were multiple gods. Still, it is important to note that even the Hebrews didn't act on that belief like it was absolute truth, for if they had they would not have warred with other nations by claiming that YHWH was stronger than their god, since if there is truly only one god, then Baal, Asherah,  Ra,  Zeus, or Jupiter could not exist. Jesus understood this and made it exceedingly clear when he interpreted the great law as being equivalent to loving your neighbor as yourself. For, you see, if your neighbor is worshiping any god, your neighbor is worshiping the one true god, i.e. the one you worship. And in case you missed the point, Jesus made it clear that this also applies to your enemies.

Loving God with your whole heart, soul, and mind, and your neighbor as yourself  is not a competition (though if it must be then outdo each other in showing love). It is a command, therefore it should become a practice. If you commit to the practice of loving God with your whole heart, soul, and mind, not only will your behavior change, but your very being will change. That is the power of telling yourself a really good story. If you are going to chase the Spirit of God, it will be like a wild goose chase in that it will take you to places where you might not go yourself. And when you find yourself in this new territory, you will find not only that new actions are required, but you should also find yourself transformed.

Birds of the Dark Wood

There is a common misconception that owls are “day blind.” The truth is that they see quite well in strong light. In fact some species of owls have better daylight vision than humans. This is accomplished by the fact that their pupils are able to open wider than humans, thus allowing in more light in dark conditions, but also are able to close small enough to block out light when it is bright. They have more rod cells in their eyes, thus allowing for tremendous night vision. This coupled with enhanced, directional hearing and the ability to fly nearly silently makes them perfectly adapted to their nocturnal life in the Dark Woods.

Many people have a fascination with owls, likely stemming from the fact that their faces with those close set eyes are reminiscent of our own, as well as the mystery of their usually quiet existence in the dark. Of course, they are not always quiet. When they call in the dark is it often loud, sometimes startling, and on occasion frightening. Not all owls hoot, the tiny Screech Owl has a rolling call that can sound like the whinny of an ethereal horse. It can be imitated by whistling and “rolling an R” at the same time. And if you have ever heard the unearthly hiss of a Barn Owl you can understand why people have thought of them as ghosts with that sound followed by a white object flying in the dark.

There is a reason why so many fairy tales are set in the deep, dark woods. This sort of fascination with what lies there calls to us. Sometimes we overcome our fears and go exploring, sometimes finding ourselves caught in the dark, wishing we hadn’t taken the risk. I know that I have had a few instances when I was out seeking owls at night and even with full knowledge of where I was and what was making the sounds around me, I have been spooked. Yet, those moments when calling to an owl is answered by the silent swoop of a bird perching on a nearby branch are nothing less than magical every time they happen.

Thus, the metaphor of the Dark Woods as a place where we find unexpected gifts speaks to us, particularly during Lent as we journey through self-examination in preparation for Easter. In life we will encounter uncertainty, emptiness, and temptation. Sometimes we will be lost, thunderstruck, or a misfit. In all these times, there are gifts to be found. We can learn trust, we can be filled, we can find comfort and direction. That is, if we are alert to the subtle movement of the Spirit in the Dark Woods, whose presence may come in silent or shocking ways like the winged denizens of the dark are apt to do.