Hole-y Peeping

Chickadees and titmice in particular are easily aggitated by the sound of a screech-owl. They are conditioned to flock together and work on driving out the predator. This group effort provides for their mutual protection. Birders know about this behavior and regularly seek to "call in" flocks of small song birds by imitating a Screech-owl (usually in hopes of finding something rarer than a chickadee or titmouse). I do this quite often.

So it was interesting to me to observe a flock of these little critters recently. The chickadees and titmice were already a bit worked up so I thought that there might be a live owl in the neighborhood. I thought this particularly because I saw some of them investigating a large hole in a tree--a perfect spot for a screech-owl to roost. So I tried imitating a screech-owl in hopes of enticing the invisible owl out of the hole. Sadly, that didn't happen. What did happen was that a number of chickadees and titmice completely ignored the source of the sound (i.e. me) and instead peered into the hole in the tree!

So I got wondering if this was at all common (I had seen this behavior at least once before). So I sent word to a local birding e-mail list. Well, I found that this was a rather common occurence. Most startling were the comments of a couple of people about how small birds would investigate holes even when screech-owls didn't occur in the area. Someone also alluded to a study where scientists tested whether the birds simply check out any hole by posting a box they knew to be empty of owls, and the birds still peered into it!

Apparently chickadees and titmice are "hardwired" to look into holes when they hear a screech-owl. Now this behavior may seem to us to be a bit of a waste of time, but if there were something as important as a potential owl in the neighborhood and you were a chickadee you would want to be sure. Well friends, there is reportedly something rather important coming to our neighborhood. That would be the child expected on December 25th! Maybe we should take a lesson from our feathered friends who can't help themselves from doing some hole-y peeping and be sure to do some holy peeping of our own!

The Hopes and Fears

In the carol, O Little Town of Bethlehem, we sing the words "the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight." That poor little town of Bethlehem has known more than its fair share of fears and surely there are multitudes who throughout the years have added their prayers for peace for that ravaged area. I suppose there is an increase in hope this year and decrease in fear over last year, but who can say how these things balance?

I read an opinion piece in the UC News today that reminded me of this carol. Kathryn Timpany wrote about a most remarkable event that happened last December. I was overwhelmed to learn of it, having not heard about it at the time or any time since. She writes,

Last December, in Thailand, after a surge of violence in the country's Muslim south, Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra decided to try something new and novel.

He ordered more than 50 warplanes and C-130 transports filled with soldiers to take to the air--at enormous cost--and drop 120 million folded-paper cranes upon the upturned faces of the hope-drained people who live there.

Can you imagine the fears of the people who saw those warplanes flying overhead? Then can you imagine the great gift of hope when instead of bombs falling they found themselves flooded in symbols of peace and hope? Traditionally origami cranes are folded by the hundreds as a method of praying for a miracle. What a great gift we would give this Christmas if where there is strife we would sow peace. Perhaps in honor of the birthday of the Prince of Peace you might want to fold your own origami crane, literally, but more importantly figuratively.

Romney Wordsworth

I've been reading The Gospel According to America by David Dark. Today I read with interest about a Twilight Zone episode featuring a character named Romney Wordsworth. Wordsworth, a librarian, is considered obsolete by the society he lives in and is condemned to death. He argues passionately that he has value simply by being a human being who contributes his own perspective and unique thoughts to society. This point is at the heart of Dark's book which decries the stark polarization of American society at the moment. Here is part of what I read today:

In the wide world of sports, brand namees, wrestiling, and presidential campaigns, we won't usually go broke selling a sense of belonging. But just becasue we can sell T-shirts and bumper stickers and win elections with a sense of outrage doesn't mean we have to give in to its tactics. When America's public discourse is reduced to two parties trying to outshout each other concerning how angry they are about other people's evil, the mantras inevitably work their way into out conversations with spouses, neighbors, brothers, and sisters. We need Romney Wordsworth who reminds us that we live our lives under the gaze of a just God who knows our innermost thoughts as if we were shouting them, who opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble, and who notices our hateful words even after we've learned to surround ourselves with people who talk the same way. It will cost him his life, but Wordsorth will offer the demystifying, prophetic word. It's always costly.

God's opposition of the proud and giving grace to the humble reminds me of Mary's song, the Magnificat, when she learns she is pregnant with Jesus. So it is a wonderful Advent admonition to be humble. This is a great season to cease our shouting, to move beyond party lines and seek peace on earth by starting with the person who holds an opposing view sitting in the next booth at the coffee shop. Dark encourages the kind of dialogue that can take place in a coffee shop. The rules are simple: keep your voice down (people are trying to eat and drink in peace), remember that you will see these people again since they live in your community, and see the person not the stereotype. This sort of civil discourse is sadly absent in much of the media and certainly in politics. But as individuals we don't need to ape such bad behavior.

The Interruption of Everything

At the 8:30 service this morning, Barbara Desmond told me about a line in the new Terry McMillan novel, "The Interruption of Everything." One character warns another not to have God as her spare tire, but rather to have God as her steering wheel. Now that is a powerful metaphor for this Advent season when we consider the image of turning. How easy it is to simply take God for granted; to assume that in an emergency God will be present to help, just like a spare tire. In old VW Beetles (the original version) the clever engineers cut as many corners as possible, so they used the air pressure of the spare tire to power the windshield washer. Practical as this may be, it would at times lead to a soft tire when it was most needed. I'm afraid that taking God for granted is just like that: we tap into a little of the Holy Spirit's "air pressure" when we need it and go merrily on our way, thinking that we are in charge and have no needs that we can't handle. But then when we are lost and in need, we don't know where to turn and we don't have the resources we need.

Now if God is the steering wheel, then we are able to go where we need to go without a worry. I have to say that I don't like the idea of being in control of what God does, so the metaphor comes up a little short. But, God is certainly the power that turns the wheels in the right direction. Since we exercise free will, God is foolish enough to let us turn the wheels in the wrong direction too. But at least if God is our steering wheel, then we absolutely can go nowhere without God. That is certainly how it should be.

In this sometimes crazy season, where the "true meaning of Christmas" is threatened to be drowned out my advertizing and consumerism, give yourself the gift of constantly requiring God's presence to give you direction--it just might be the greatest gift you ever receive.

House Cleaning

Advent starts on Sunday, so what will you do differently starting

Sunday for the next four weeks until Christmas? Shopping and going

crazy are not acceptable answers! Advent is a time of preparation

for the birth of Christ. I used the metaphor of cleaning house in my

sermon this past week to describe what Advent is like. When a

special guest is coming to your house you usually work at making

things ready. You want everything to be extra clean and

organized. You might even attempt to finish a project or two that

have long gone undone. So how much more should you want to get your

house cleaned and ready for the coming of Christ?

Of course, Jesus is not coming in the flesh to your house...or at

least I'm not promising that! But every Advent is a time to prepare

ourselves to receive Christ anew in our hearts. So we have a

prescribed period of time to prepare our inner selves for the blessed

event. That time is marked by the four Sundays preceding Christmas

(not counting Christmas day, which is this year on a Sunday). That

means that you have a couple of days left to decide what discipline

you could adopt to do a month's worth of internal "house cleaning."

If you think this sounds a bit like Lent, then you are

correct. Historically, Advent was seen more as a time of fasting

than feasting, designed to prepare us for the great feast of

Christmas, just as Lent prepares us for the great feast of

Easter. But you Advent discipline doesn't need to be

painful. Perhaps we all should take stock of our lives and take some

time each day to change our ways, one item at a time. In fact, just

slowing down enough to take some time to reflect on your life in the

presence of God sounds like a pretty good choice for an Advent

discipline. A structure for a daily discipline could be setting a

specific time each day to pray for a set period of time. Daily

reading a scripture and/or a devotional is another traditional way of

marking Advent. Perhaps you might decide that starting that new

exercise program you planned on doing in the new year would be better

started now as a spiritual discipline during Advent.