Month: March 2021

The Bird and the Weasel

A parable, inspired by a photograph taken by Brian Le-May. 

Once upon a time there was a Bird who lived in a forest with his wife and a nest full of eggs.   

One bright morning Bird said good-bye to his wife, who was sitting on their eggs, keeping them safe and warm, and set off in search of food. Bird was a good provider for the ones he loved.

Bird flew to a clearing and began to look about. He was careful, for the forest was full of wily predators. He swiveled his head from side to side and pirouetted from time to time to make sure no one snuck up from behind. But he became distracted for just a moment.  And in the forest, even one moment is enough for a wily predator to strike.

Weasel was one of the wily predators in the forest. He too had a family to provide for, and he too was a good provider for the ones he loved. Weasel saw Bird dancing in the field and stealthily crept toward him. He waited patiently for his moment, and with a mighty lurch, leapt onto Bird’s back. 

Bird’s instincts shouted, ‘Fly!’  He thrust out his wings and took to the air. He was of course terrified to have Weasel on his back. But no more terrified than Weasel as he soared into the sky on the back of Bird.

After the initial fright, Weasel spoke into Bird’s ear. ‘That was a smart move Bird. But you are nonetheless through. I have you right where I want you. My jaws are near your neck. I can bite at any moment. Land now and let me go, or I shall bite you now and you will die.’

Bird thought quickly.  ‘You dare not Weasel.  You know, or at least you should, that the moment you bite, I shall fall. Then you will die too.’

Weasel, having never flown before, had not considered this. He thought a moment. ‘Well then Bird. It comes to this. You can’t fly forever. You will eventually have to land. And when you do, I will bite you then and you will die.’

This flummoxed Bird for half a second. But he was a wise bird and found an appropriate response. ‘If that is your plan Weasel, then I will fly higher and higher until I can fly no more. Then I shall fall, and you will fall with me. You will die as well.’

Weasel grunted, ‘Drat!’  He felt trapped. And indeed he was. What would he do? He was a wily creature, but this seemed beyond him. He looked over Bird’s wing to the earth far below and considered his dilemma anew. He nearly passed out.  The situation seemed hopeless.

Bird, sensing Weasel’s distress, spoke into the silence. ‘I suggest we make a deal. For good or for ill, our lives are now bound together. Neither of us can live without the other.  We can no longer think in terms of ‘me,’ Weasel.  We must think in terms of ‘we.’’   

Weasel wondered what Bird meant and asked, ‘What sort of deal do you propose?’

Bird answered, ‘This: I will promise to land us safely, and you will promise not to bite me. Then we will go back to our respective places in the forest and continue our lives.’

Weasel was doubtful. ‘How do I know you won’t try a trick move as you land and throw me off?’

Bird told it straight. ‘You don’t. Just as I don’t know you won’t bite me when we land. We will have to trust each other.’

Weasel thought of this. Birds and weasels had never trusted each other before.  Could they trust each other now?

Bird, who was growing tired (it is hard to fly with a weasel on one’s back) hastened the conversation along. ‘Time is ticking Weasel. What do you say?’

Weasel realized he had no choice. ‘Okay Bird. I will take the deal. If you will promise to land us safely, I will promise not to bite you.’

‘I so promise,’ replied Bird.

‘And I as well,’ answered Weasel.

Bird circled around and headed back to the clearing. He knew he could not fly much further. As he came in for the landing, he feared Weasel would not keep his promise. He was after all, a weasel.

Weasel was also frightened. Would Bird keep his promise and land safely? But he knew Bird was right. Their lives were bound together. There was no choice but to trust Bird.

His trust was well founded. Bird landed in almost the precise place where Weasel had jumped on. Weasel jumped off just as quickly.

Bird and Weasel looked intently at one another. Both were exhausted. Bird from flying with a Weasel on his back, Weasel from, well, flying at all.

Bird was the first to speak. ‘Well Weasel, I have kept my promise. Will you now keep yours?’

‘Yes Bird,’ replied Weasel.  ‘A promise is a promise. Our lives were bound together, and perhaps they still are.’  Weasel smiled. ‘See you around Bird,’ he said, and with a sociable wink, scampered merrily away.

Bird took to the air. He was still tired, but flying was easier without Weasel on his back. He went home to his nest and wife, who was still sitting on their eggs, keeping them safe and warm.

Photo by Kevin Jansen courtesy of Unsplash. To see Brian Le-May’s original photo, click here.

Future Generations

‘One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts – Psalm 145:4’ (NIV)

David states a simple principle in this verse.  Each generation is responsible to pass to the next the evidence of God’s mighty works.  Typically, we think of this in terms of telling the stories of what God has done.  We find people doing this throughout scripture, recounting stories of God’s great acts in Israel’s history in their writings, festivals (Passover being one example), and songs.  In all of this we perceive the responsibility to preserve the stories of God’s great acts and to pass them along to the next generation. 

But the works of God are found in more than stories.  In another Psalm David wrote, ‘the heavens proclaim the glory of God, and the skies display the works of his hands’ (19:1).  This sentiment is expressed throughout the Bible, that the works of God are manifest in creation (see, e.g., Romans 1:20).  Indeed, you might say God tells the story of his existence and glory in the things he has made.  Consider the words of Augustine:

‘Some people, in order to discover God, read books.  But there is a great book, the very appearance of created things.  Look above you!  Look below you!  Read it.  God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink.  Instead, he set before your eyes the things he has made.  Can you ask for a louder voice than that?’

The Church Father Irenaeus agrees: ‘the initial step for a soul to come to knowledge of God is contemplation of nature.’  Who can doubt it?  A starry sky, the expanse of the ocean, the forest primeval, the mountains in their Autumn hues, the remarkable complexity and diversity of life – it all bears witness to the mighty works of God.  In all this, we perceive another facet of our responsibility: we must preserve God’s mighty works in nature and pass them along to future generations. 

But we aren’t.    

I have been reading David Wallace-Wells’ remarkably comprehensive and terrifying book, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming.  It is a scientifically informed exploration of climate change, both the evidence for it (which is overwhelming) and the consequences that we can expect to experience in both this century and the next.  I commend the book to your reading list.  But if I may bottom line things, we are in deep trouble.  No matter what we do from this point forward, the damage we have inflicted on God’s creation over the past 75 years or so is almost certain to raise global temperatures two degrees Celsius by 2100.  The Paris Climate Accords, which the United States recently rejoined after an insane hiatus, are designed to keep warming below that threshold.  A two-degree rise will invoke drastic consequences, most of which are at this point unavoidable.  But even worse is that if we do not do something equally drastic to curtail our rising carbon emissions, the rise will be even higher, anywhere from three to six degrees according to conservative estimates, perhaps as high as eight.  The consequences along that continuum are not just drastic, they are catastrophic.  And we are headed for them.  As of today, very few countries have met their goals under the Paris Climate Accords.  Most, including the worst offenders, are increasing their carbon emissions as we speak.  We are, by our actions, racing through a century during which the temperature will surely rise significantly more than two degrees. 

Which means that in the coming decades, and certainly by 2100, we can expect the following:

  • Rising temperatures that will make life near the equator impossible
  • Massive crop failure and farmland loss across multiple continents
  • Flooding of Biblical proportions along coastal areas throughout the world
  • A surge in wildfires and consequent property damage and loss of life
  • Massive hurricanes, typhoons, and tornadoes
  • Water shortages (this is already a problem.  Wallace-Wells notes that ‘as soon as 2030, global water demand is expected to outstrip demand by 40%’).
  • Dying Oceans (rising acidity, eco-system destruction, and species loss including the loss of oxygen producing diatoms that are responsible for much of the oxygen we breathe)
  • Widespread loss of animal habitats
  • Mass extinctions
  • Biodiversity loss
  • Toxic air
  • Plagues (viral and bacterial)
  • Economic collapse
  • Climate Refugees, as many as one billion
  • War (depleted resources will ignite them; it should be noted that the United States military takes climate change very seriously.  They are well aware of the instability it brings).

This is NOT hysteria or alarmism.  This is verifiable scientific fact.  There is more than mere consensus in the scientific community about this.  There is near unanimity of opinion (the outliers are the sort who put Galileo under house arrest for claiming the sun was the center of our solar system).  My God, if only ¼ of the items on that list come to pass, and I should note the list is far from exhaustive, we will be, by century’s end, in a world of hurt. 

This is the world we are passing on to our children and grandchildren.  This is the manner in which we are commending God’s wonderful works to future generations.  If we don’t pull our heads from the sand quickly, we will have failed to do what David – what the whole Bible – commands. 

It’s time to educate ourselves, change the way we live, and demand that our leaders take dramatic action to stave off the worst that climate change will bring. 

I end with a story.   

In the Babylonian Talmud, we read of the sage, Honi, who was walking along the road.  He saw a man planting a carob tree.  Honi asked him, ‘How long will it take for this tree to bear fruit?’

‘Seventy years,’ the man replied.

‘Honi then asked, ‘Are you so healthy a man that you expect to live that length of time and eat its fruit?’

The man answered, ‘I found a fruitful world because my ancestors planted it for me.  Likewise, I am planting for my children.’

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent