Hearing Is Believing

Some birds are only active at night like owls and goatsuckers (yes, that actually is the family name of whip-poor-wills and the like). This is not a rule written in stone since it is certainly possible to see an owl roosting in the daylight, but some birds just require late night excursions if they are going to make your list. That explains why I was at Jake’s Landing, a marsh in New Jersey, at midnight. I was there in search of a Black Rail, a tiny, secretive bird that is vocal almost exclusively at night. I had the marsh to myself that night, even though other World Series of Birding teams had had their scouts out there earlier. I discovered later, to my chagrin, that those scouts had heard Black Rails. I had no luck with that species, but this turned out to be my lucky night.

Literally in the still of the night, I was able to hear all the bird song around me. There were Clapper Rails, Marsh Wrens and even Seaside Sparrows calling and singing. Then I heard a song I had never heard before. Chip, chip, chip, churrrrr. It took a moment or two to recognize what I was hearing. I was pretty sure that the live version I was hearing matched a song I had on the CD in my car. So I played the CD and sure enough, I was listening to a Sedge Wren! I had never seen a Sedge Wren before…technically I still have never seen a Sedge Wren. There was no way that I was going to see this small bird hidden in the sedge in the dark, so I had no choice but to report it and list it as an audible. I have long since given up requiring visual confirmation before life listing a bird, but since this was going to be a bird worth chasing for World Series teams I was a bit concerned about being believed.

As I shared this report in the following days, not one person doubted me, at least not to my face. The bird was probably a migrant that moved on the next day since no one ever reported it again. The record breaking cumulative total of species seen by all teams during that Saturday’s World Series did not include Sedge Wren. I was the lone witness to this bird’s brief appearance. I’m not sure what I would have done if some didn’t believe me. I’m not sure that there was anything I could have done. Isn’t that the same problem we have when we witness to our faith? Your experience with God is very personal and nearly impossible to describe to another, particularly someone who has never had a similar experience. On top of that, our still-speaking God is full of surprises for us, giving us new experiences as often as we are willing to accept them. So how are we to spread this good news? I think the other birders believed me because they could see my dedication and conviction. That my story was only a little abnormal certainly helped. To many people we encounter the story of a transformative, liberating God active in the world and in our lives today is going to sound pretty far-fetched. I hope that you are able to demonstrate your conviction and dedication through your living. This way, your words will be backed up by the actions others can see, and of course, seeing is believing.

Love Your Enemies

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!

Snipe Hunt

Did anyone ever send you on a snipe hunt when you were young? By definition a snipe hunt is a search doomed to frustrated failure because of the non-existence of the sought after item. Searching for a left-handed monkey wrench would be a true snipe hunt. Diogenes is said to have taken a lamp in broad daylight out in the streets in search of an honest person. He used a snipe hunt to sarcastically make the point that there were no honest people.

I’ve got bad news for all those intent on sending naïve initiates out into the dark night with a bag…there really are snipe! I recently went in search of snipe, actual snipe. Wilson’s Snipes are birds of wet meadows and bogs that occasionally breed in this area and regularly pass through on migration. If you have ever looked for them in the wet fields that they prefer you will know why they are said not to exist. It is quite easy to look over the field and see nothing only to notice some movement, lift your binoculars and find the area literally crawling with snipe. They accomplish this because of their build and coloration. They are squatty birds with mottled brown patterning, meaning that they are low to the ground that they resemble.

My snipe hunt took me to perfect habitat where others had reported the species only days before. I even donned my boots and walked the wet field, all to no avail. If there were any snipe there that day they were indeed invisible. Who knows, perhaps they possess the power to become transparent. Certainly no one could disprove such a theory. Or perhaps they have the ability to transmogrify. This I might be able to accept since I went out with hopes of adding Wilson’s Snipe to my year list but instead added a (not surprising but unexpected) Savannah Sparrow.

In reality, the power of a snipe hunt is not in the snipe but in the hunt. I love the post Easter story of the two disciples walking with Jesus on the road to Emmaus. Just like a snipe in a field, Jesus was invisible to these disciples. They were unable to see what was right in front of their eyes, until they looked with the eyes of faith. They saw Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

Where do you see Jesus today? When you come to the table of Holy Communion can you see Jesus in the breaking of the bread? And once you are fed do you go out into the world on a snipe hunt for the Christ? I’ve got news for you, Christ is as real as snipes and often just as difficult to find, until you know how and where to look. The best habitat for finding Christ is anyplace where God’s love and justice are needed. I’m sure that you encounter this habitat regularly, try using your faith eyes to find Christ the next time you are there.