Pratt: Stories of old resonate with the truth of where rebellion against God leads

Right on cue for October mischief, the owl awakens me at 4 a.m. with a “Who-oo, Who-oo” – pause – and another “Who-oo.”

Is this the critter leaving empty bird-egg shells on our lawn recently? Or, is there another creature of the night raiding nests? I tiptoe in the dark to each big window in the house, hoping to see the owl lurking about, but no luck.

Big, black crows also patrol our yard occasionally, showing little fear of human presence. I think they nest in the pasture area across the road, but they are bolder, noisier, cruising in the daylight hours.

Recently, a dead snake on the highway near our mailbox drew one of nature's clean-up crews, three spooky-looking garbage collectors (aka vultures) at mid-day. Unlike the owls, vultures roost at night and hunt by day, leaving the kill to someone else.

Once, on a spring trip to see and photograph the fields of bluebonnets around Kerrville and Fredericksburg, we stopped the car and took pictures of a spooky-perfect dead tree. It was late in the day, and the otherwise bare tree branches were covered with a large flock of vultures.

And then, there are the lovely songbirds that flit about the yard in warm months, but most leaving ahead of winter's approach. Despite their charm of color and song, the birds establish strong territorial spaces and chase diversity right out of their trees if at all possible.

A large flock of tiny gray birds – finches, I think – have hidden inside the barbed branches of our pyracantha bush. Within a few days, it is stripped of all those beautiful orange berries, leaving only the thorns that make these bushes not friendly for needed trimming.

Life's complexities become more obvious when we slow down enough to observe all the warfare in nature between avian, animal and even plant life. But there is also the symbiotic side, one providing something for the other – be it food, nesting space or security.

As humans, we are not so different in many ways, but altogether “Other” when it comes to constancy of change and growth. Yet, still we quarrel about who is in charge of the world, thinking it is ourselves.

I will leave it to you, the reader, to identify the various creaturely natures of today's general and elite populations, pausing only to recall that someone once said, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

Some people open the Bible at random and believe the first verses they see will give the answer to whatever is troubling them. I've ordinarily considered that as more superstitious behavior than faith, but I reach over and pick up my Bible and open it without plan.

Here it is, underlined, of all things: “So all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. They said to him, 'You are old, and your sons do not follow  your ways, now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.'”

Samuel, not pleased, speaks in prayer to the Lord with his objection. But God tells him the people are simply giving him the same treatment that they have dealt to the Lord since the miraculous journey out of slavery in Egypt. They still have served other gods, “and so they are doing to you.”

Listen, but warn them, God advises Samuel, “what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.” (I Samuel 8: 4-9 NIV) Stories of old resonate with the truth of where rebellion against God leads.

When we come to believe we are different than our ancestors, we travel an ancient path littered with appalling likeness. Meanwhile, an owl glides soundlessly in the night, calling, “Who...who...who...” will seek for that which is eternal.

Beth Pratt retired after 25 years as the religion editor of the Avalanche-Journal.