Heaven, Torture and Courage

Walking today leisurely along Lake Monona with my daughter, I saw a mother Killdeer with her three baby birds. Running in a most evolutionarily confused manner, the babies moved away from the mother as we approached. Given that they could not fly, the birds could easily have been cornered and eaten by an adversary, and we found it easy to both approach and observe them from a short distance. The squeaking of the birds was high pitched, as was the screeching of the mother informing her child that he would likely kill the baby bird he had cornered. She shouted at the boy who was so focused on the novelty of the sight of the baby bird. He did not respond, only moved closer to the bird. She walked over to him, screeching for him to get away, and hit him (lightly), then attempted to drag him away from the bird. I had the strange sense that she did not believe her own advice, as she hesitated to see if anyone was watching her behavior–should she hit him more? Should she drag him away? Should he be punished, made to feel terrified? Is that how the bird felt?

I was confused. I had to leave. Coral didn’t understand, but we had to walk on, and quickly. The birds _were_ frightened. The boy was frightened. I prayed for guidance and a better way. It was so loud.

We walked further down the shore, certain more bird nests laid ahead. After observing a black bird for a few minutes, we wandered on towards Olbrich Gardens.

I wanted to see the roses, but was not prepared for the heavenly sight that awaited. I urge you to visit soon–the Rose Garden is breathtaking. The colors and the pools are laid out beautifully.

Cognitive dissonance — word of torture upset my mind, with news of the crucifixion of a prisoner at the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq. U.S. doctors were present at interrogation sessions meting out their healing according to procedures carefully prepared to bring a prisoner near to death. Where are the war crimes tribunals? The blood of the Christ was shed to cleanse the world of its sins–once, 2000 years ago. Imagine the compassion of a Creator that found it fit to offer this as a gift. Meanwhile, an Iraqi man is tortured to prevent the recognition of the coming death of my body (and by extension, your body). The body has another day to live more poorly because of the death of this man. Famine, pestilence, war and horror are our daily bread, served to us by smirking liars. A tsunami of fear and exhaustion is upon me. I find no recognition of the implications of this among family, friends, community, no talk of confronting the horror. Onward. Courage is needed to continue. Returning to help? Can I speak of a path to heaven and be heard above the screams?