‘For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’
~Jeremiah 29:11
Early yesterday morning I listened to Minnesota naturalist Jim Gilbert answer a question by a caller about loons. The caller had observed these birds of summer on a nearby lake and had been concerned. He reported that he had seen nearly twenty adult male loons congregated on a lake, seemingly just hanging out. The caller wondered if this was a sign of an early migration pattern perhaps brought on by the odd weather we have been experiencing.
In his wisdom, Mr. Gilbert explained what be believed to be the cause.The reason these loons were seen congregating on this lake had nothing to do with migration. Instead they were most likely birds that had been “unsuccessful in nesting” and were simply holding a social gathering. This explanation tugged at my heart. These birds whose haunting call is a Minnesota favorite were gathering to create a community out of a sense of loss and grief. They had been unsuccessful in creating a next generation. Like their fellow-earth-travelers, they gathered for the sheer reason around a common bond of being unsuccessful.
I thought of the times I have observed people doing a similar thing. At the worship service in which I am blessed to be one of the leaders, we offer the opportunity for people to say their prayers aloud so others can share in their joys, their sorrows, their deep questions. Many a time I have been aware of someone who may have been absent from the circle who shows up out of the blue. When the time comes in the service to offer prayers, these folks will often offer a prayer they have been holding. They have come for this purpose. In this way, they will not carry this prayer alone. Like the loons on the lake, they have come to roost in the circle of prayer.
Yesterday during our worship one man offered a prayer for his wife, offering his gratitude for her health and the healing she has experienced after treatment for breast cancer. It was a heart felt prayer and we all breathed in the goodness and grace of the moment. At the conclusion of the service I gathered a few of us who had also walked this path and we circled round her with the proclamation of our own healing offering hope for her continued journey. “Four years. Ten years. Twelve years. Eighteen years.”, we named the longevity of our survival. As ones without feathers, we also gathered in our common quest for our very lives.
I don’t know much about the rest of the creature world but I have often wondered when I have come upon certain gatherings of birds or other animals. What is it they are really doing? Is it happenstance or intentional this gathering they do? Is it to share in security or the pursuit of food? Or is it because, like we humans, they simply like the company of one another?
Last night, out on the lake, we observed a family of loons, mother, father and two young ones. They swam in close formation keeping their circle of comfort close. At different points in time one adult would dive deep as these fishers are wont to do. The young ones looked on imprinting the behavior for their own survival. Later in the evening I heard their call from the lake. It is a sound that conjures up so much inside me.
This year they were successful in their nesting. Their need for a social gathering need go no further than four. Next year, things may be different. May God go with them, and with us all.
