Tag Archives: Mythology

THE PROMISE OF ETERNAL LIFE: FAIRY TALE OR TRUTH?

The dogwood tree bloomed outside my bedroom window this past week and as I admired the beauty of organic nature, I also reflected on the finite nature of all earthly things that live. From people, animals and insects to trees, plants, and flowers, the common component of all these things is that they will all die.

Perhaps, this is one of the most easily understood reasons that the religion of Christianity appeals to someone. That promise of a life after this one – and an eternal one, at that – brings much needed hope to dark days in an increasingly broken and uncertain world.

If you are anything like me, you enjoyed reading fairy tales as a child. The heroic figures of fanciful stories, embellished with the often hyperbolic descriptions that enhance their appeal not only attract us as children but they also speak to the still childlike parts of ourselves when we reach adulthood. If being a sophisticated “adult” is important to us, we may deny our interest in fairytales. For our society is much more likely to encourage us to be “productive” citizens than visionary dreamers.

As C. S. Lewis, a fervent proponent of fairy tale reading once said, “One day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” Interestingly, he also spoke of reading fairy tapes in secret at the age of ten, declaring he would have felt shame had his predilection for them been discovered.

Yet, there’s no denying that Christianity has a fairy tale aspect to it, for when one starts incorporating miracles, babies born of virgins, and people being raised from the dead into stories one would certainly classify the genre as science fiction, fantasy, or a little bit of both.

It’s an ironic twist of how things often play out, that a day like Easter, a holiday that is supposed to celebrate Jesus’s Resurrection from the Dead, has become enveloped in a candy coated wrapping of pastel hued Easter eggs that are the main attraction of Easter egg hunts, oversized bunnies (people dressed up in rabbit costumes), and baskets brimming over with candy and other sugary treats. If we are too “sophisticated” for fairy tales, should we not also be too “sophisticated” for such childish celebrations?

Now before you imagine that I was never a child myself or that, if I was, I never enjoyed the so-called “childish” things, I remember being four or five years old and fetching all the hidden Easter eggs at an elementary school across from where my grandparents lived. With the naive excitement of a child, I imagined that since I had found the eggs, they were all mine. Of course, I didn’t end up keeping them, lest you wonder how the story turned out.

I realize many of the Easter celebrations I have mentioned are “for children,” but the trouble is, they aren’t giving anyone, including the children, an accurate idea of what Easter is intended to signify.

If one does even a fair amount of research, the fact that the “Christian” Easter originated in paganism is easily discovered. The eggs are connected with fertility and the name itself, “Easter,” is inspired by the pagan goddess of fertility, known as “Ostara” or “Eoster.” As for the rabbit, it also has origins in paganism. Bede, an early medieval monk who has often been regarded as the father of English history, once noted that in eighth century England, the month of April was called Eosturmonath after the goddess Eoster. He went on to write that a pagan festival of Spring in the name of this goddess had become incorporated into Christianity’s celebration of Christ’s Resurrection.

These worldly, or, to be more specific, pagan rituals have been incorporated into a holiday named by and celebrated by professing Christians, and if and when the pagan aspects of the day are embraced (as they will be), remaining mindful of the genuine hope found in Christ’s Resurrection is even more important.

In all truth, we don’t need the stardust and tinsel of made up fairy tales to give us hope. People dressed up as giant Easter bunnies and eggs dyed nearly every shade under the rainbow are temporal attractions, offering a joy that is both short lived and lacking in genuine fulfillment.

We can say what we like about Christianity being a fairy tale and can mock those who adhere to its teachings, but unless one has not ever believed in anything that wasn’t visible or that didn’t obey the “rules” of logic, discounting Christianity based simply on the fact it has supernatural elements isn’t a solid argument.

Although Sigmund Freud once called Christianity a “fairy tale ” and his followers replaced this with “folk tale,” those who open their minds enough to do some research know that Jesus was a real person and that the accounts of him in the New Testament were eyewitness accounts written before and after his death.

Easter, if one believes the research on its origins, is pagan and yet the same things being celebrated by pagans in this Springtime holiday- hope, life rebirth and renewal are also what Jesus offers those who follow Him.

So, eggs, Easter baskets, and bunny rabbit impersonators aside, we can all agree on the sentiments behind the holiday, even if those sentiments are evoked by different things. And, perhaps, those who have not yet gotten to know Jesus or taken the time to contemplate whether there is indeed truth in his identity as the Son of God as well as hope in the promise He offers of eternal life, will do so.

As C.S. Lewis said, “Christianity is both a myth and a fact. It’s unique. It’s the true myth.”

And just as goodness triumphs over wickedness in the fairy tales we love most, and just as redemption is offered to villians who seem beyond hope, so, too, Jesus offers us both redemption and promises us the ultimate triumph of good over evil, if not in this life, then in the next.

Peace & Blessings,

Sascha 🕊

March 31. 2024.

This page and all written material at A Pilgrim’s Odyssey is written by Sascha Norris. (C) Copyright 2023-2024 by Sascha Norris. All Rights Reserved.

(Images are: Cover Art- Easter Lamb of God and Cross by Sara Tee. Other images by artists John Pototschnik and Yongsung Kim)

FLACO, THE LITTLE OWL WHO CHANGED THE WORLD

What can one say about a little owl who made an unforgettable impact on not only the nation but the whole world?

It’s all too easy to say, “He’s just an owl,” imagining that in being dismissive, somehow the difference that Flaco made in the lives of millions of people might be diminished.

But reducing the significance of something in our own minds never alters the breadth of its meaning, and Flaco’s year of freedom and how it affected the world is no exception.

In case you think that appreciation for owls is a new phenomenon, it should be noted that owls have been regarded with admiration and even a certain amount of awe for centuries. In ancient mythology, the goddess of wisdom, Athena, was said to have chosen the owl as her companion, and owls have continued to be associated with wisdom, knowledge, intelligence, perspicacity, vigilance, and enlightenment throughout history. In more recent times, such well known public figures as social reformer and modern nursing founder Florence Nightingale and painter and sculptor Pablo Picasso have kept owls as pets, with Florence choosing to bestow the name Athena on her pet screech owl, whom she rescued from abusive bullies on a trip to Italy.

And in a way, that is what fearless Flaco became for all of us – a pet for the millions of people who loved him. He represented the underbird who nobody thinks will be able to survive yet who manages to thrive like a feathered samurai.

From perching on water towers to visiting the fire escapes of surprised NYC residents and peering in their windows, Flaco was as much debonair bandit as he was regal prince. One might find him just as readily devouring rat sushi as posing for the hootarazzi like the owlcon that he was.

Unsurprisingly, Flaco’s owlventures became the subject du jour in news publications around the world and as he quickly became the world’s most photographed owl, we who followed his escapades awaited each new episode of The Flaco Chronicles with as much anticipation as that of a child eager to open presents on Christmas morning.

There are some who feel this worldwide fixation on a single owl is not only peculiar but downright ridiculous. In trying to strengthen their case, they bring up news they feel is of much graver import – such as casualties in Gaza and the war in the Ukraine. Sadly, in pointing towards these seemingly more “important” issues and attempting to diminish the significance of Flaco and his life by doing so, these people – however well intentioned they may be- are only making it clear why we became so captivated by and attached to Flaco in the first place.

Although I don’t want to make this about me when it’s mostly about Flaco, what I am about to share does relate to Flaco. And because it may strike a chord with someone else, I feel I should share it.

Like Flaco, I was somewhat of a captive for a large portion of my life. The decisions that should have been made by me, both big and small, were made for me by those parental and authority figures who had power over me and my life.

Thus, seeing Flaco start afresh, breaking free from the shackles of the zoo that had so thoroughly suppressed his free spirited self, ignited in me a spark of hope, making me feel that I could do the same. Of course, unlike a person, whose attempts to achieve freedom might be hindered by all kinds of complications such as intimidation, threats, and similar psychologically manipulative strategies, Flaco was able to liberate himself rather effortlessly. And aside from a few unsuccessful attempts to recapture him, Flaco soared high on the wings of freedom, with the enthusiastic support of thousands upon thousands of fans providing the wind beneath his wings.

As those who are continuing to follow the rise and fall of Flaco know all too well, there are two opposing parties who, although sharing a mutual love of Flaco, disagree (and sometimes vehemently) as to whether returning Flaco to the zoo that he escaped from would have been better than allowing him to remain free.

I have always felt that keeping an open mind means trying to understand different perspectives, whether one agrees with them or not. For much of what we learn in life is taught to us through our relationships with others. Even those who wish to remain solitary are forced to coexist with other sentient beings.

That being said, although I can see why those who believe Flaco’s life was put at dire risk by him being thrust into an unknown city filled with a plethora of dangers feel as they do, the lasting impact Flaco has made on a world yearning for a beacon of hope, freedom and resilience such as he represented, would never have occurred if he has stayed in or been returned to a cage. So, although I am not saying the vandal who presumably inadvertently enabled his escape should not bear some repercussions for his or her actions, what I am saying is that without that event taking place, Flaco’s life would have been one of the average captive owl, forgotten in both life and death, with no lasting impact on anyone aside from his zookeepers and the visitors who strolled past his cage.

Lest you think I am saying that Flaco’s early death was a sacrifice worth making because of the difference he made on the world through his year of freedom, that is not my intention nor is it what I believe.

Yet, as is often the case in life, remarkable achievements generally come at a cost. The world is difficult enough when one has everything going in one’s favor. For Flaco, the odds were stacked against his wings, even as he soared to astounding heights, taking us with him on each new peak of owlventure.

I think, if you and I and anyone who happens to be reading this are honest with ourselves, we will admit that, in our hearts, we don’t think owls were ever intended to be kept in cages. Owls are wild, free beings, and even when they have been kept as pets, the incidents of them being kept in that capacity have been few and far between.

And if owls were not supposed to be wild and free, we wouldn’t have been so entranced by Flaco’s journey. We were rooting for him because we knew that he was finally getting a chance to do what he had been created to do from the beginning. He was fulfilling his calling as a bird in the wild, and, even though New York was far from the ideal place for him to embrace his mission, it happened to be where he ended up, and relocating him appeared to be a problematic venture. With each new rat Flaco procured for his dinner, we became more and more convinced that his innate hunting skills were taking over and that he was getting accustomed to depending on himself.

For many of us, Flaco’s success when it came to defying the odds made us feel better equipped to handle obstacles in our own lives. His bravery gave us the hope we needed to face uncertain tomorrows of our own and his tenacity made us feel that we might be stronger than we often give ourselves credit for.

But more than anything else, Flaco showed us that in spite of our differences as a society, when we find a common love to share, we can come together in a way that is truly miraculous. And through this coming together, we can forge connections that would never have come about any other way.

In life, we tend to find the meaning in an event or set of circumstances that we are ready to accept. If we are not prepared to grasp or benefit from a certain lesson or message, then, no matter how ostensibly the universe tries to get us to hear it, our ears will remain deaf.

Those who choose to see Flaco’s life as needlessly cut short or who decide to see it as a tragedy, will never understand what Flaco intended for his life to mean. He truly wanted to be part of the great, big world outside his cage and beyond the zoo.

Perhaps, Flaco knew that he could give something to the world that we needed. Maybe he knew that we were in want of a reminder that life is not about how many breaths you take or how many days you live but rather about how many breathtaking moments you experience and how many lives you touch along the way.

No, nothing can bring Flaco back to this earth, but if we live our lives differently because of him, if we give more grace when it is needed, both to ourselves and others, if we learn to face our fears more readily, rather than ignoring them or running away from them, and, most importantly of all, if we develop the capacity to look beyond gender, race, spiritual and political beliefs and see ourselves united through our common humanity – as we have been through our love of Flaco – then Flaco’s life will have never been in vain.

Peace & Blessings,

Sascha 🦉

This page and all written material at A Pilgrim’s Odyssey is written by Sascha Norris. (C) Copyright 2023-2024 by Sascha Norris. All Rights Reserved.

Photos of Flaco are (cover) by David Barrett (i.e., Manhattan Bird Alert) and (article collage) by Mark, known as Above_96th on Twitter/X and Instagram.

Thank you to those photographers, including David and Mark, who captured Flaco’s unparalleled beauty so magnificently in photos and videos.