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.

Wild and Wonderful Signs

The yin and yang of signs includes those times when you are seeking direction or confirmation so request a sign (or two or thousand) and those signs that hit you over the head when you aren't looking. The former is Gideon's story, the latter is Moses'  My story this week is a bit of both, but first their tales.

Gideon heard a call from God to do some fighting of the enemy to save the people and bring rest to the land, you know, the sort of average day at the office thing.  Well, I can't say I blame him for requesting confirmation.  Heck, I would have outright said "no, you have the power to do this non-violently God, get back to me with that plan" or at least I hope I would have, but then again, that's another story.  Back to Gideon: he tested the message via fleece. He put the fleece out on the ground and told God that when he came and checked in the morning that it had better be wet and the ground dry if God expected Gideon to do as asked.  When he arose to find just as he had demanded, Gideon did what any of us would do, call for best two out of three!  Only he added the twist of doing it vice versa with the wet and dry.  Lo and behold he got his demand met and off he went to lead the troops.

Moses, on the other hand, was minding his own business.  That is, his business was livestock and he was minding them in the desert when he noticed a bush that was on fire but was not consumed. As signs go, I must say that that one is an impressive way to get someone's attention.  Moses didn't miss it, nor did he ask for it. There is a bit of wisdom that says that the bush had been burning for generations, but Moses was the first to hear the voice of God in it.  That says something about noticing signs.

So I was stuck in my car for far too many hours for a person with an attention span as short as mine as I was coming home from Hot Springs, North Carolina where I had not unexpectedly been inspired by attending the Wild Goose Festival. One great take away from this year's festival was that the future of Christianity is not just how those moving from Evangelicalism meet those coming from Liberalism but that we may be finding that labels are truly irrelevant when we are following the call of the Holy Spirit that is as untamed and unpredictable as a wild goose.  I was feeling the joy and inspiration of the gathering, filled with the spirit of God that I had felt in the gathered followers...and stuck in the car with nothing to distract me.  So in the course of that long drive (made a bit more exciting by the discovery that I had left my debit card at a restaurant in Hot Springs!) I was reflecting, praying, meditating and planning no less than three projects that follow up from the experience at the festival.  I wanted to text an idea to someone I wanted to involve in one of those projects so I was looking for a rest area.  I chose the West Virgina welcome center quite intentionally since I had yet to observe the West Virginia state bird while in that state.  

So I was enjoying the break, getting some food and water while sending the text, stretching my legs a bit.  I was only mildly aware of the birds around me.  Then I realized that the Blue Jays I had noted were quite loud and agitated.  It was classic mobbing behavior.  My suspicions were confirmed when I moved toward the small stand of trees where the ruckus was occurring and also heard equally agitated Titmice.  Whatever raptor had upset them escaped my detection, but it got me walking the picnic area enjoying the flora and fauna.  I began hearing a chip note that I thought I knew.  I followed it until I saw that it was indeed a Northern Cardinal, the state bird of West Virginia.

One task completed, I finished the second one of sending the text and started back to my car.  Just as I reached it I saw a group of people entering a car a few away from mine.  The driver looked familiar...because he was.  It was Joel, a seminarian in the process of ordination within my denomination in the Association just west of mine here in Massachusetts, whom I had met for the first time at last year's Wild Goose Festival.  I had not seen him since (because he has been living in New Haven), that is until this year's festival.  And now, here it was a day after the festival ended, three states away (and still not in the state where either of us lives) that I saw him again!  If the Cardinal was my Gideon-ish sign, this one was Moses-esque.

Some streams of Christianity put a heavy emphasis on seeking and interpreting signs.  In fact, it is a style I had experienced and moved away from in my journey and last year's Wild Goose Festival was a time during which I had a great healing moment with some new friends in that camp.  One of them challenged me this year to imagine having that all the time in my life and ministry.  I don't see that happening, since I think that if I constantly sought signs I would tend toward Gideon more than Moses.  But that doesn't mean that I can't see a wild and wonderful sign when it pops up right in front of me where I can't help but run into it. So I'm pretty sure that God has some plans and that the conversation with the invisible traveling partner was not in vain.  I am comfortable leaving lots of wiggle room, not pinning down details, because signs are guideposts not footnoted guide books.

Still I have to say that among the birds at that rest area  I'm a bit surprised i there wasn't a goose present. Oh wait, there is that invisible conversation partner...