Quoth the Window, "Nevermore."

There is a bird outside our window who has an urgent message to share. Clearly, that’s it. Because why, otherwise, would a bird work so hard to get into my house?
That’s what I began to think as day after day passed with this incredibly beautiful bird throwing itself against the window again and again. I’ve never seen anything like it. The bird is a cardinal, I think. This in itself is a curiosity because we never see this type of bird around here. They’re more of a eastern U.S. phenomenon.
The bird has bright red feathers from its chest to its tail and a bright yellow beak. When he spreads his wings to fly he explodes into color. This is a sight I am frequently privy to as the bird spends many hours of every day perched on a branch just outside the window and regularly opens those wings to fly right at the glass, banging against it with its beak, wings, and chest again and again. When he tires he rests on the branch for a while and then he starts all over again.
What does he want?
I remember my ancient Middle East studies….Egypt. The bird icon represents the (ca or ba?) soul of the deceased. And I always have a foot in that spirit place so I can’t help but ask…is it a messenger? Is this bird trying to tell us something…warn us, prepare us, come inside and be with us? Does some lingering memory of a previous life abide within it and remind it that this is a place it once ate and drank and laughed and cried?
I also know it is spring…ahhh, spring. When a young man’s fancy turns to….you get the point, right? And maybe this bird’s fancy has turned to that, too. But being a rare breed in these parts, it has had difficulty finding a mate and thinks the one reflected in my window is looking pretty good. In which case, frustration levels must be running high about now.
Is it a pet bird someone lost and it thinks it’s home? Is it trying to get back inside where it’s safe?
I went outside and looked at the window from the bird’s point of view. Perspective is everything, right? The reflection creates the illusion of another tree. We all know the grass is always greener. Maybe the leaves are, too? In which case, this animal is demonstrating a most basic principle of insanity…to keep doing the same thing over and over hoping for different results.
Perhaps the most interesting feature of this event is the cat’s reaction. She sits on the rocker by the window praying for the day the bird breaks through. Does she sense that fresh meat is just a ¼ inch pane of glass away?
Whatever. I’m spending way too much time and brain-space on this.
My efforts at discerning the bird’s intentions are beginning to take on a trajectory paralleling the bird’s actions. Tragedy in futility. Or futility in tragedy.
Give it up.
Sometimes a bird is just a bird.

Forty Days and Nights

Forty days....that's how long we are told Jesus was in the wilderness. Forty days does not actually translate out to what we would think. For the writer it probably meant "a pretty long time." Jesus was out there without food or water. It probably felt like a really long time.
And, we are told, he was tempted by the devil while he was in the desert.
Hmmm...tempted by the devil.
When I read accounts of the temptation I see that Jesus was being offered alternative career plans. Was it really Satan, or was it Jesus just trying to make his mind up about what he wanted to do with his life.
Yes, He was God.
But he was also man.
Maybe it was a wrestling match between the two and Satan just got the press (which happens a lot...ie "the devil made me do it").
Why do I bring this up (I thought you'd never ask)?
I've been away for a really long time. An ancient writer might say forty days. I rose out of the waters but not of baptism. Rather, I emerged from a near-(spiritual)-death experience, drowning in the raging torrents of the church. It's not a pretty place. And tougher pastors than I have disappeared under its waves, never to be seen again while others resurfaced to tread the earth in a zombie-like state, reciting age-old creeds and acting out the rituals of the seasons. But if you look really close you'll see the light (ie this little light of mine light) has long gone out. It is a sad, sad testimony to the state of religion today.
The shepherd falls prey to wolves.

Who are these predators? A wide swath of broad generalities might include:

• The pastor's own ego

What a dangerous thing to believe our own press. The sheep love us, the church fathers love us. We are good at what we do. We want to rise to the top of our denominations' career ladders. And so we carve the trail up a slippery slope, sure that we are doing God's good work when we are mistaken. Oh so mistaken.

• Those above

And I don't mean the angels. I mean the hierarchy. Motive is everything, am I right? What is the motive of administration? To administer as opposed to minister. There's a difference and one often gets in the way of the other. I just don't remember a single verse of the Bible in which Jesus said "Woo-hoo, guys! We turned the corner with a 30% growth in attendance last month. In no time at all we'll be the fastest growing religion in Palestine and you'll still have jobs!" What he did say was "Feed my sheep."

• Those pesky sheep

Yes, the sheep. The very ones we over which we are given charge also sign our paychecks. It's hard to wield the crook against the hand that feeds, houses, clothes, and insures you and your family. And so we learn to walk softly and abandon the stick altogether. We choke on the rebuke and swallow the admonishment that might just turn that sleeping herd into a world-changing force for good.

That and more collided with my idealistic vision of the church as the greatest hope of the world and well, it overwhelmed me. I was drowning so I did the only thing I could to save myself and my faith. I rose out of those waters and I entered the desert.
Oh, what a lonely, lonely place.
It was there I wrestled. With Satan, with God, with the voices in my head.
And it was there I was fed.
And now I return, at least to my writing. Here I will pour out the stories of my journey. Here I will reveal the heresies and truths revealed in that empty terrain. Here I will continue to be Pastor Ellen.