#3GL – Southwest Conference Blog

A Cat’s Lessons on Loving Your Neighbor

The cat is driving me crazy. She’s a little annoyed by us working from home more, having been accustomed to her days alone and uninterrupted sleep. Near the beginning of Arizona’s shutdown, I handed her through the car window to a veterinary tech; as a result of that visit, she’s been on steroids for about a month. She’s almost seventeen, so this is the best way to treat current health problems that we’re not worried about curing.

However, a cat on steroids is just as bad as a human on steroids. About a week in, her appetite doubled, maybe tripled. She is now known as the hobbit, hopeful for second anything. Any time we walk near her food bowl, she’s hopeful for more food. She has dry food all the time; she’d just rather have the (expensive) canned rabbit. She’s gotten second dinner a few times. It doesn’t seem to have sated her hunger.

Her thirst has increased with her hunger, and we are regularly scolding her for sticking her head in one of our drinks. It is not uncommon for every glass to end up in the dishwasher as a result. I should note that not only does she have a water bowl that is full, it is actually a water fountain so that the water doesn’t get stale and unappealing. It was a recent Christmas present and we can talk about me becoming that person another day.

Oh—I missed all the extra energy from steroids in my summary of complaints about the cat. Luckily, she cannot share her complaints about me.

But I am also remembering how I got the cat, more than seven years ago now. One of my college professors lost her husband in a plane crash; her childhood sweetheart had lost his wife to cancer. They got married. She was not a cat person, but he had three cats from his first marriage. They went to work on rehoming the cats after a few months of marriage. His daughter ended up with two of the cats. I got my cat, transported from Virginia to Kansas City by my professor and her new husband. They arrived just in time for Thanksgiving dinner with me.

The cat’s original owner has since died of cancer, too. It was a shockingly aggressive cancer caused by Agent Orange from his service in Vietnam. My partner and I went to his funeral in Nashville, somehow more connected by the cat he was so glad we loved. The primary way we could care for him during his illness was to send cat pictures.

Somehow, the cat remains a symbol of connection stretching across the years. I even talk to her previous owners more often because she is in my care. As we sit in this pandemic that both isolates and connects us at the same time, I think most of us will come away with neighbor stories. Some of them are good stories of comfort and friendship; others are stories of neighbors like mine who start drinking at 10 a.m.

But at the end of the day, the command to love your neighbor is about remembering the ways we are connected and honoring them. In my case, an uncharacteristically annoying cat still turns me to my neighbor. Maybe even more importantly, those connections remind me that I have neighbors who love me, too. And we’ll probably have some good stories to tell along the way.

First Church Mockingbird

guest post by James Pennington

During this season of COVID-19, I am much more aware of the sounds of the city in my neighborhood and in the courtyard of First Church, the location where I spend 5 – 8 hours of my day.

At home, I have a mockingbird that has made the large tree in my front yard his singing perch. Whenever I leave my home in the morning, the mockingbird is there with its beautiful and exotic singing. On our Church campus, as I sit in the courtyard, a mocking bird arrives each morning between 8:00 and 8:30 am and perches on the highest exhaust vent on the northernmost roof of the sanctuary. (I have wondered if it is the same bird who follows me?) The mockingbird in the courtyard sings its heart out until about noon, periodically flying straight up about 2 feet, showing his brilliant feathers, and then dropping down to continue to sing on its metal perch.

Mockingbirds often mimic the sounds of birds (and frogs) around them, including shrikes, blackbirds, orioles, killdeer, jays, hawks, and many others. They go on learning new sounds throughout their lives. The song is a long series of phrases, with each phrase repeated 2-6 times before shifting to a new sound; the songs can go on for 20 seconds or more. Many of the phrases are whistled, but mockingbirds also make sharp rasps, scolds, and trills. Unmated males are the most insistent singers, carrying on all day and late into the night.

I don’t know if the First Church mockingbird is an unmated male or female, but what I do know is that its song is ever-changing and simply beautiful beyond description. It seems to me, this mockingbird never makes the same sound twice. Its song and antics fill my ears and eyes and heart with joy. The mockingbird who has been visiting our campus every morning for a week and a half may have been present for months. But because I have been slowing down, being “fully” present outside, and hearing more of nature because humanity is increasingly more silent, I have noticed the mockingbird. And I have also noted that the sound of the mockingbird is not the only bird or human sound on our campus, but it is one of the loudest and most soul-nourishing.

As I listen to the bird mocking, I am reminded of Jesus’ words to his worried, anxious, perplexed followers:

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Parent feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

Or from the Message paraphrase which I actually really like: “Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.”

I love the way these two different expressions of the same saying of Jesus play off each other.

I am asking myself, what is this mockingbird teaching me/us? Look more deeply at this bird, James.

Is it time to change my “song”?
Do I keep singing the same old tired song over and over and over? Am I stuck?
Am I being encouraged to be less tethered to my “job description” of who and what I am supposed to be and be more in the moment, singing and flapping to a new song?
As my retirement account shrinks, am I being reminded that what I have stored away in my barn and banks is impermanent and less important than the value of the people around me?
Am I being reminded to breathe deeply and let the Spirit of God lift me up into the air so I can have a different perspective on what is really important in this life? A bird’s eye view (pun intended!)?

The mockingbird has many positive symbolic meanings, including joyfulness, cleverness, playfulness, security, and communication. In the book “To Kill a Mockingbird,” the mockingbird symbolizes innocence.
Mockingbirds are known for being very intelligent and protective of their families. There are many myths about mockingbirds. Certain tribes of Native Americans once believed the mockingbird taught people how to speak, while others see mockingbirds as guardians of the dead. Cherokees used to have their children eat mockingbird heads in the belief it would make them smarter.

When the Mockingbird comes into our lives it can be a message that we need to rethink how we work, interact and communicate with others. Are we accommodating? Are we being flexible? The Mockingbird way is to listen first, then respond. This is one of its greatest lessons for humans. The Mockingbird is very playful. Few birds have the kind of bright vitality and obvious revelry. So when this happy bird flies into our lives it is a cue for us to frolic, and suspend our severity for a time. Enjoy, relax, and take time to appreciate the pleasureful things in our lives.

For me, and for Jesus, I am looking to the birds, to a mockingbird, at least for today and this time. Teach me, teach us, feathered visitor, to suspend my severity for a time and find playful moments during the season of COVID 19. Allow our minds and hearts to relax and take time to appreciate the sights and sounds we may have missed for years because our “job descriptions” and storage barns have taken our eyes and ears off of what is really important.

The First Church mockingbird is calling to each of us rethink how we work, how we interact with those who are familiar to us and those who are strangers. COVID 19 and social isolation are giving us plenty of time to hear and answer the call. The mockingbird is calling us to sing a new song, a melody released by the Spirit of God in each one of us, a gift to the world.

Lessening Your Footprint

by Jocelyn Emerson

One of the things that continually comes to mind when I contemplate stewardship of God’s Creation is “the size of my footprint.” How much does my way of living impact the Earth? What is my responsibility to lessen that impact for my descendants?

Avenger’s Age of Ultron:

After defeating Ultron, the Avengers come together at Tony Stark’s (Iron Man) new headquarters in Upstate NY somewhere. Tony, Captain America and Thor are debriefing, chatting and joking around as they walk. Thor must leave and go in search of the Infinity Stones (prelude to Infinity War) and learn what he can about them.

Once outside, he holds us his hammer calling the Bifrost (the rainbow bridge). The Bifrost picks him up and takes him way, leaving its intricate mark on the ground — a huge circle that destroys the lawn beneath it.

Tony Stark (jokingly) to Captain America: That man has no regard for lawn maintenance…. (walking away) I’m going to miss him though…

What size footprint do you leave?
The Bifrost leaves quite a huge footprint on the ground of where ever it picks Thor up. The ground underneath is ruined by the power of the Bifrost’s rainbow bridge. It creates a symbol that reminds me of a cross between Celtic cross and a crop circle.

This conversation between Tony Stark and Captain America made me laugh. Yet, it brought forth in my heart the question: what size footprint do I leave?

In the eco-justice circle of thought and dialogue, we hear that question often. How can you lessen your footprint? There is tremendous encouragement to lessen it as much as possible.

Those lists of how you can lessen your footprint sometimes feel overwhelming.

Easy:
When I look I already do the easy things: recycle everything I can, have a chemical free house, buy organic and fair trade foods, use more ecological light bulbs, etc.

Moderate:
I also already do many of the moderate tasks: I carry my own bags rarely using plastic bags, lessen the use of plastic in my life, walk to destinations that are close enough instead of driving, etc. These require me to be more conscious. They are not always habits. Many of them require more of my time and awareness.

Expert:
Then there is the list that always feels like if I put my energy there it will take quite a bit of effort. It feels like the expert level of lessening my footprint. It is the list that requires commitment! as well as resources to accomplish: no-waste, alternative power like solar and wind, hybrid cars, eco-homes, etc.

I get the importance of lessening our footprints. As the human race has grown we have dominated the planet, maybe even overwhelmed it. In urban and suburban areas it can be challenging to find open space, let alone green space. Cities are allowing developers to create housing where there were once parks. Forests are being encroached upon. Wildlife habitats are disappearing as human require more and more space.

We do need to lessen our footprints in order to allow all the other beings on this planet to continue to have homes, to continue to thrive.

Taos, NM and lessening my footprint:
When I lived in Taos for nine months, I decided to see how much I could lessen my footprint. Since I was on sabbatical, working on my business, I decided that I had the time to see how close I could get to zero waste living.

I will totally admit it took a great deal of my attention and time. I had to make conscious choices about what I bought at the grocery store: could I recycle that container?

Styrofoam containers
Styrofoam presented the greatest challenge and ask me to make changes in how I did things. Because most grocery stores sell meat in styrofoam, I thought I might have to become vegetarian again. However, I found that the local health food store had a butcher and I could buy my meat wrapped in paper (recyclable).

Styrofoam did require me to change my habits about eating out. I had to begin to bring with me my own “take home” containers when I went to restaurants, just in case there contains were styrofoam.

Buy local and bulk
I joined the local Taos Co-Op and learned all about bulk food buying. Investing in glass containers meant that I was making choices about how I spent my money. I had to sacrifice other areas so that I could afford the glass.

Compost
I began a compost pile on the Land I was staying on, caring for it regularly. I learned that, because I backed up to desert wilderness, the animals were quite happy to feast on that pile. That felt good! I was not wasting food, I was feeding the wildlife.

By the time I left, I had my trash down to one tiny bag a month. This experiment taught me how my choices affect this planet. How I chose to use my time and energy is one of the foundations of stewardship of creation. The greatest impact we have on our immediate environment is how we chose to use our time and resource to care for our property, land, water, etc.

Commitment
Lessening my footprint required commitment. There were days when I was exhausted. In those moments that “I don’t care” feeling arose in my body and spirit. It was asking me: how committed am I to this experiment, to this lessen in stewardship? Each time it arose in me, I had to deepen and strengthen my level of commitment.

Currently, I am not able to be anywhere as close to zero-waste as I was in Taos. Because of this experience, my heart yearns for me to be in living situation where I can step back into the experiment again. Although this experience required focus, commitment, energy, shifting in how I do things, giving up habits, etc; it deepened my connection to Mother Earth! I desire to bring that disciple back into my life.

All that Spirit asks of us is that we become conscious of how we live on Mother Earth, on God’s creation. Spirit invites us to contemplate ways to be more aligned, more in partnership with the web-of-life so that we feel Her presence in all that we do.

Reflection questions:
What is the size of your footprint?
How can you lessen it, even a tiny bit?
What habits would you need to change?
How do you use your resources to protect and care for the environment?

Prayer:
We call on your mercy and your grace, O God, to carry us into a new communion with the created order. Pour your compassion and your forgiveness over us. Give us a vision of healing and togetherness for your entire world. We know that, with Christ as our helper, we can restore justice and balance and live in harmony with all that you have made.