Don Friesen
It is not unusual for aeroplanes to be hit by birds, and so the American Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) developed an experiment to test the strength of aeroplane windshields. To simulate a bird hitting a plane in flight, a cannon-like device was used to propel a dead chicken at a windshield. A British locomotive company heard about the device and requested its use to test the windshield of a fast train it was considering. They replicated the FAA experiment, but when the chicken was released it went through the windshield, knocked over the back of the chair the engineer had just vacated, and put a major dent in the cab of the locomotive! Those conducting the experiment wondered what had gone wrong and wrote to the FAA, requesting an analysis of their experiment. The FAA wrote back, recommending that the locomotive people try the test again, but this time they should use a thawed chicken.
Almost fifty years ago two British authors wrote a book entitled, God's Frozen People (Mark Gibbs & T. Ralph Morton, 1964), suggesting much the same thing – that a thawed-out Church would better serve the task at hand. A defrosted Church is a Church with a heart for people, a heart supple and pliant and more responsive both to the needs of people and to God's Spirit.
The Holy Bird of Pentecost
It's interesting that birds are associated with Pentecost, because the Pentecost event itself mentions no birds whatsoever. According to Acts, chapter 2, Pentecost is a day of wind and fire! (Acts 2:2) The event is put into prophetic context with reference to the prophet Joel's images of blood, fire, and smoky mist! (Acts 2:19) No mention is made of birds in the Pentecost account, yet a bird has been one of the enduring symbols of Pentecost. The most frequent and the earliest representation of the Holy Spirit is the descending dove. The basis for this, of course, is the Gospel accounts of the descending dove at Jesus' baptism. (Matthew 3:16; Mark 1:10; Luke 3:22)
Why was a bird chosen to symbolize something often likened to the wind? I don't know. Perhaps because birds, like the wind, live and move in the sky. When birds flap their wings, the sound made is akin to that of the wind, and the flapping of wings produces air movement. The wind was seen as divine by the ancient Chinese and was said to have come from the movement of the wings of "the divine bird". The name of the divine bird in many Chinese languages is a homonym for wind. (Elder Lin Ming-huei, Chou-Mei Presbyterian Church, Taipei, Taiwan)
If some ask why a bird symbolizes the Holy Spirit, we might also ask why that bird is a dove! In fact, some have suggested that other birds would be better symbols of the Holy Spirit. I have read that in Germany, for example, the Pentecost bird – the Pfingstvogel – is an oriole! The Golden Oriole, in part because of the bird's arrival around the Day of Pentecost.
Others have suggested that the Pentecost bird should be a mockingbird. Its chortling and incessant chattering early in the morning and late at night could certainly represent the noise heard on that first Pentecost day. It could represent the crowds who mocked the disciples on that day. (Acts 2:13, RSV) As you may know, however, the mockingbird does not so much mock as imitate. It imitates other birdsongs. A mature mockingbird may know over 500 songs, and it is not mocking those songs, it is imitating them; its biological name is Mimus polygottus. A shopkeeper reported that a mockingbird that sang outside his shop even learned to imitate the sound of the UPS truck backing up. Then it began miming the various rings on people's cell phones.
Perhaps the mockingbird sings so many songs because it is essentially a joyful bird. Its songs are the collected songs of the whole earth, like the collected languages heard on the first Pentecost day. To the untrained ear the mockingbird's collection of songs may sound much like the drunken chorus the Jerusalem pilgrims thought they heard that day. This is a bird filled with new wine, or at least some fermented berries! Like the mockingbird, the disciples appeared drunk with new wine, chattering wildly about the greatness of God.
If you don't fancy the Pentecost bird as an oriole or a mockingbird, how about a kookaburra? Nathan Nettleton, the pastor of South Yarra Community Baptist Church in Australia, says that the kookabura – Australia's laughing bird – is the natural symbol of the Holy Spirit. It fills the air with good humour, its strange and raucous cry – which sounds at times like a rollicking laugh, at other times like a coughing cackle – could be a sign of humility – or at least reason for it – and it's also a courageous bird; when it does battle with snakes, it usually wins! If the work of God's Holy Spirit is to spread joy and laughter, to remind people not to take themselves too seriously, and to confront and overcome forces of evil, then the kookabura is our bird!
The attempts to substitute other birds to supplant the dove as the holy bird of Pentecost inspires one to think of other possibilities. How about a magpie? A chickadee? A robin, a cardinal, a finch, or a prairie chicken? The attempts to think of other possibilities may seem a little far-fetched, but there has been at least one other attempt to choose a bird other than a dove as the symbol of Pentecost, and that comes out of the Iona community. The Iona community favours the Holy Spirit as a wild goose, claiming that it is one of the ancient Celtic symbols for the Holy Spirit. The Celts, according to the Iona people, didn't fancy the dove – a serene little bird cooing and fluttering about in the heavens. The crazy Celts had a different take on the character of the Holy Spirit, and felt that the image of the gentle dove did not do justice to it. They experienced the Holy Spirit as uncontrollable, something more like a wild goose, a big, noisy, un-ignorable, take-up-some-serious-personal-space wild goose! The coo of a dove may be sweet and calming, but the strident honk of a goose fits the character of the Holy Spirit better. Their take on the Holy Spirit called for a more demanding and unsettling bird. A strong and challenging bird – even scary bird! (Susan Leo, "Wild Goose Chases," May 15, 2005)
... Who Stirs our Nests
No doubt there are times in the life of the Church, and in the lives of Christians, when a dove is a comforting and necessary image, but there are times when we need a more unsettling bird. The Danish philosopher, Kierkegaard, was not a Celtic Christian, but he told several stories in which even wild geese became domesticated. In one of the stories a wild goose went to live with some tame geese. He went with splendid motivation, resolved to liberate them from their domesticated life of mediocrity, where the food was rich and life was easy, although dull, and limited by the farmer's grim ultimate purpose. In time he too became tame. Every year, when the wild geese would honk in flight overhead, he would flutter his wings and rise a bit and resolve to join them, but he never did, becoming quite content to be with the tame and flightless birds.
Another of Kierkegaard's goose stories is even gloomier, about a flock of geese who met every Sunday and listened to the same gander preach. The sermon was essentially the same each time. It told of the glorious destiny of geese, of the noble end for which their Maker had created them, and every time the Maker's name was mentioned the geese curtsied and all the ganders bowed their heads. And when the meeting broke up, they all waddled home, only to meet again next Sunday and waddle off home again! In time they grew fat, plump – and delicious!
Kierkegaard's parable is a gloomy and painful caricature of the Church. And perhaps we need the Wild Goose of Pentecost to stir us up. The Scriptures tell us that the "eagle stirs up its nest" in order to get the young ones to fly! "As an eagle stirs up its nest, and hovers over its young; as it spreads its wings, takes them up, and bears them aloft on its pinions" (Deuteronomy 32:11), so God calls us beyond the safety of the nest. The same thought is captured in the hymn we sang:
As when the time to venture comes,
(Hymnal: A Worship Book, #590)
When the Holy Spirit got loose on that first Pentecost, it created quite a scene! Our daughter, Rachael, once had a bird that she let loose in the house on occasion. And one time it crawled behind a big bookcase and wouldn't come out. We were expecting company and wanted to rescue the bird before our company arrived. I tilted the bookcase while Dorothy reached behind the bookcase to grab the bird. The tilted bookcase began to shed its books – on my head – just as the doorbell rang, and Dorothy quickly pulled the bird out by its tail feathers, not all of which remained on the bird! We know firsthand the excitement that can be created when a bird gets loose!
When the Holy Bird of Pentecost got loose on that first Pentecost, it created quite a scene! Things got a bit wild, such that people thought the disciples drunk and disorderly! The tumultuous scene caught the attention of many pilgrims, who were amazed to hear backwoods Galileans shouting – but not only shouting, they were speaking in languages understandable to the pilgrims! If the event amazed the pilgrims gathered in Jerusalem, it did even more for the disciples. They were flung out of the shelter of their upper room into the streets of Jerusalem. The wild goose of Pentecost took them from timidity to boldness, transforming them, inspiring them to share the good news of God's love with the entire world.
Christians in a particular part of Germany used to celebrate Pentecost by lowering a wooden dove through a hole in the church's ceiling during their Pentecost worship. Shortly after the dove was lowered, buckets of water were poured through the same hole. And whichever church member ended up being soaked the most was given the honour of being the Pfingstvogel – the Pentecost bird – for the rest of the year. It could work here, if we took the screens off the skylights. It would certainly put some of the surprise back into Pentecost, for when the Holy Spirit is let loose, surprising things happen!
It's one thing for young eagles to flap their wings in the security of their down-filled nest, it's quite another for them to move to the edge, look over, and think about stepping out into the frightening abyss! Similarly, God stirs up our nest and gets us ready for change, perhaps to face something we've not faced before, to help us break out of a monotonous rut, or to open ourselves to a new, challenging calling, taking us to a higher level of discipleship.
... Calls us to Freedom
The Bird of Pentecost stirs us up, creating inner discomfort with our comfort, but the power of this holy bird also lies with its inner prompting for freedom. The psalmist first gave voice to it, saying, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away...." (Psalm 55:6, KJV) Amelia Earhart, after her first flight in an aeroplane, said, "As soon as we left the ground I knew I myself had to fly!" (1920) Wernher von Braun, speaking about space travel, said, "It will free (us) from the remaining chains, the chains of gravity which still tie (us) to this planet." (1958) And Antoine Saint-Exupéry, the French aviator who gave us the wonderful classic, The Little Prince (1943), said, "I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things".
Similarly, something freed the first disciples from fear and timidity on that first Pentecost. Something lifted them airborne! Just like the perfectly synchronized wings of Canadian geese in vee-formation suggest a determined mission and purpose, so something mysterious pulled the first disciples out of their hidey-hole and moved them heavenward, soaring with grace and with an uncanny sense of direction and mission.
Maya Angelou, the American poet, gave expression to this powerful longing for freedom in her poem, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" (1969):
But a bird that stalks
The caged bird sings
... a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
A teacher decided to have her kindergarten class dramatize the story of Cinderella. Every child could have a part – Cinderella, her evil stepmother, the two wicked stepsisters, the beautiful and wise fairy godmother, the pumpkin, the mice, the coachmen, the horses, not to mention the generals, admirals, knights, and princesses present at the ball, and the prince – but one of the children, when asked which part he wanted to play, replied, "The pig."
Norman wanted to play a pig in the story of Cinderella. "Well, said the teacher, "there is no pig in this story." "Well," said Norman, "there is now," and so there was. There was no script for Norman, but he gave himself a walk-on part, following Cinderella wherever she went. Ambling along on all fours, in a costume Norman himself had cobbled together, the pig sat back on his haunches and observed everything that went on. And this artful pig used his face to express whatever the moment required: sadness, worry, anxiety, hope, puzzlement, madness, boredom, joy, exhilaration, you name it! You could tell what was going on in the play just by looking at Norman's face.
At the climax of the play, when the prince placed the glass slipper on Cinderella's foot, and she and the prince rode away into happiness, Norman went wild with joy! He danced around on his hind legs, and began to bark like a dog. Somehow barking seemed to express his joy better than oiking! And at the curtain call, Norman, the barking pig, received a standing ovation! He stole the show. (story told by David McBriar, Love in a Paper Sack, page 82)
From birds to pigs to barking pigs – it's absurd, I know, but Pentecost has that touch of creative madness. It's a feast of madness, for the Holy Spirit is a rush of energy and imagination, and the freedom to express it. It's an exciting awareness of who we are, and what we can be, and what we can accomplish! The Holy Spirit stirs up our hearts, infusing us with the madness of a Norman who risked playing his part, prompting us to risk playing our own creative part in the drama of faith and redemption.
...and Lifts our Prayers Heavenward
Ancient peoples endowed birds with the power to act as mediums between earth and heaven because of their ability to fly upward into the sky. A simplistic notion, perhaps, but no less profound than the New Testament notion of the prayers of the saints rising upward like the smoke of incense (Revelation 8:4) or the odour of a fragrant offering. (Philippians 4:18)
The Scriptures decided to liken the Holy Spirit to a bird, and also assured us that it is by the Holy Spirit's power that our prayers take flight, for when "we do not know how to pray..., (the) Spirit intercedes (for us) with sighs too deep for words." (Romans 8:26)
Veni Sancte Spiritus. Come, Holy Spirit.
The care the eagle gives her young,
The old gospel song says that "Love lifted me," but the nest is a comfortable place. No doubt there are times when we need to burrow in and take comfort in its warmth, but as God made birds for flight, so our calling inevitably takes us beyond the nest. Whenever the Church has grown too tame and complacent, God stirred things up! There have been prophets and reformers and mavericks and gadflies all through the history of the Church who, when we were God's frozen chosen, thawed us out! Who, when we grew too proud and powerful, humbled us. Who, when we got lazy, lit a fire under us.
safe in her lofty nest,
is like the tender love of God
for us made manifest.
she stirs them out to flight,
so we are pressed to boldly try,
to strive for daring height. ...
The free bird leaps
Some years ago, when stores were selling some superhero costume popular at the time, it came with a warning, "Caution: Cape does not enable user to fly." Perhaps church bulletins should carry a similar warning: "Caution: The faith we practise will not take you to great heights." However, God's frozen chosen and Kierkegaard's waddling geese notwithstanding, faith by its nature calls us to aspire to greater heights! St. Therese, a hardy mystic who lived in the sixteenth century, said, "When there is pain and trials in life, great souls soar on their wings high above the clouds...." The Bird of Pentecost, of whatever species, beckons us to freedom, to flights of imagination and daring, to defy the gravity of sin and evil, calling forth from us expressions of joy we had not thought possible.
on the back of the wind
... and dares to claim the sky.
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
... of freedom.
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.