By Scott Spreier
The evening before our president’s threatened annihilation of Iran, I, like many, experienced a level of fear and anger I’d seldom felt before. It brought back my childhood Cold War fears of fiery nuclear annihilation on earth, then burning forevermore in hell.
Although my beliefs thankfully have matured since then, I still felt a deep sense of anxiety, revulsion — even guilt. How had we, a so-called “Christian” nation, let a crazy old biblically illiterate wannabe king and his equally mad Secretary of War start an immoral and unconscionable modern-day crusade, threatening to destroy a Muslim nation?
Overwhelmed, I put a leash on Shiner, and we went for an evening walk. As darkness fell, I sat down on a bench overlooking White Rock Creek. Too distracted to pray or listen for that “still, small voice,” I did what any good Wilshirite would do: I pulled out my iPhone. But instead of checking my messages, I opened Merlin, my bird identifier app.
Within seconds I found myself serenaded by a heavenly choir of winged creatures. Merlin explained that I was listening to cardinals, northern mockingbirds, Carolina wrens, tufted titmice, even an American barn owl, who hooted solemnly in a beautiful bass voice.
Within minutes my mood lifted. If my feathered friends could joyfully sing as darkness fell, so could I. There was hope to be had and work to be done.
My faith had been restored. Not necessarily my faith in religion, which too often assumes a rule-bound, clannish, clubby culture, degrading and demonizing others.
No. It’s my faith in our creator, a “he, she or they” — I don’t care which — who loves us and cares for us, but who also, as today’s Scripture points out, expects us to do our part, starting by loving our neighbors as ourselves.
As we worship today, let us release our anger and hate, our worry and sense of helplessness. Let us lean into the love of our faith community. Let us bathe in the beauty of the choir and listen carefully to the wise words of Rabbi Stern. Let us pray not only for healing and peace, but also for our world’s leaders, including — hard as it may be — for our own.
Let us leave today with love in our hearts, confidence in our faith and renewed purpose in our lives. Then, as the sun sets, take a long walk with your dog and listen to the soul-restoring evensong of our feathered friends.
Go in peace and rest well, for tomorrow our heavy lifting begins anew.