Why I am Jealous of Emperor Penguins
I, like so many others, learned about the extraordinary life cycle of an emperor penguin by watching the documentary “The March of the Penguins.” It is narrated by the iconic Morgan Freeman, and his deep and calming voice accompanies us on the incredible journey. As the title suggests, the film documents the march of these penguins inland to breeding grounds. The largest recorded colony is known as the Halley Bay colony. Scientists have observed as much as 23,000 pairs, or 46,000 individual penguins gathering at this site. Once the female lays the egg, she carefully passes it to her mate, who nestles it on top of his feet, and underneath a thick layer of feathers and fat. The mother departs back to the water’s edge, which can be between 30 to 75 miles away from the breeding grounds, to feed for two whole months. During this time the father keeps the egg warm, as the colony huddles close together to withstand winds that can reach 100mph, and temperatures that drop to 80 below zero. Once the mother has restored her food reserves, she begins the trek back to her now hatched chick, the little one will only survive a week without being fed by their mother.
Once she arrives back at the colony, she must find her mate and chick in a sea of 46,000 identical penguins. Remarkably, the way they do this is by identifying the trumpeting sound of her mate, which, to their ears, must sound like someone shouting their name. When you watch the documentary what you hear is the sound of thousands of penguins all making, what appears to our ears, to be the exact same sound. It is a deafening and chaotic cacophony, and yet, unbelievably, that mama penguin hears her name, and she is reunited with her little family.
Mother Nature is full of examples like this, of remarkable journeys, where something in those animal bodies calls to them, and they go and arrive at their destination with awe inspiring accuracy. Salmon returning to the very waters in which they were hatched, monarch butterflies that ride air currents and thermals for 3,000 miles to overwinter, and the gray whale traveling 12,000 miles to feed in the arctic and then to their breeding grounds in the Baja lagoons.
In all of these examples, I feel a sense of wonder about the clarity that inhabits those animal bodies, a unity with a deeper listening, a primal nudge and unwavering movement towards that which gives life.
The emperor penguins came to my mind this week as I sank into some deep worry, and despair, about where we find ourselves as humans. I began to feel some jealousy of our penguin, whale, salmon, and butterfly companions. The core question that existed at this despair was, “Are we losing our abilities towards hearing the voice of truth that draws us into life?”
Admittedly, this despair was initiated by another documentary, which highlights the ways in which many of the social media platforms we use have been designed to keep our attention. The longer these platforms keep our attention, the more ads they can show us, and the more money they can make. Using this business model, social media companies have hired experts on human behavior, and have crafted complex algorithms that are able to predict our online behaviors, and to present us with content that is sure to keep us engaged. These models have been crafted in a way to allow them to continue to learn more about our attention, and to automate the process of presenting us with content and information. These systems have discovered that our attention is captured when we are presented with information that ignites our fears coupled with a community of companions to reinforce those fears. Before long our social media feeds become curated spaces, and our perceptions of reality, of what is true becomes skewed.
The rise of communities of conspiracy theorists, like flat “earthers” and “pizzagaters” has been fueled by social media. We are also witnessing the resistance to measures to curve the spread of Covid-19, and leaders of our country openly rejecting the science of climate change. As the approach of the election draws closer, we know that misinformation will increase, and our perceptions of reality will be challenged.
So, what do emperor penguins have to do with all of this? Well, I’m thinking about that moment, when a mama penguin approaches the colony, and begins to listen for her mate, calling out in a crowd of 40,000 plus penguins. The chaos of that cacophony feels appropriate to our current climate, and yet it feels like we might not be as equipped as that sole mama penguin to hear and discern that voice that is true and calling to us.
And it makes me wonder, once again, about what we Quakers have to offer to this world. This week, as I spoke to our dear friend Claire Nail on the phone, I had mentioned that I was thinking about all of this. Sitting on my desk, as I spoke to her, was the journal of John Woolman, I have been reading it the last few weeks. Miraculously, without knowing that I had been reading it, and it was within arms reach, she asked me if I had read one of the parts of his journal where he talked about speaking with the Delaware people living along the banks of the Susquehanna River. In fact, I had just finished reading that section the day before. Was Spirit nudging me this week, or what?
I’d like to read this section of his journal now, written in the summer of 1762:
On the evening of the 18th I was at their meeting, where pure gospel love was felt, to the tendering of some of our hearts. The interpreters endeavored to acquaint the people with what I said, in short setneces, but found some difficulty, as none of them were quite perfect in English and Delaware tongues, so they helped one another, and we labored along, Divine love attending. Afterwards, feeling my mind covered with the spirit of prayer, I told the interpreters that I found it in my heart to pray to God, and believed, if I prayed aright, he would hear me; and I expressed my willingness for them to omit interpreting; so our meeting ended with a degree of Divine love. Before the people went out, I observed Papunehang speaking to one of the interpreters, and I was afterwards told that he said in substance as follows: “I love to feel where words come from.”
Wow. I love to feel where words come from. In the following entries in his journal Woolman goes on to say that a few times, noticing the struggle of the translators to communicate with those to whom he was speaking, asked them to stop translating entirely, trusting that the Spirit would intercede on everyone’s behalf. Woolman says, “I feeling the current of love run strong, told the interpreters that I believed some of the people would understand me, and so I proceeded without them…”
The current of love running strong, loving to feel where words come from, hearing your name called in a crowd of 40,000 trumpeting penguins.
In a few moments we are going to enter into silence together, and everything that has been said up until that point will be taken into that silence, and we are going to ask for God to come into all of it, and we are going to try to immerse ourselves in that current of love, where are going to try to feel where those words come from, and we are going to listen, collectively, for the truth that God is revealing to us. That, my friends, is mysterious but so freaking beautiful and sacred, and dare I say, counter cultural. As the author of the book “How to do Nothing” says, “Could 'augmented reality’ simply mean putting your phone down?”
Quaker worship might be the antithesis to a facebook news feed, and while we as a group likely feel mostly oriented in the same direction politically and spiritually, we hold the possibility that when we enter into this current of love, that the picture of our way forward will be more complete when each of us attunes our hearts and ears to the leadings of Spirit.
This is why I am envious of our animal brothers and sisters because they don’t need to strive to be in this current of wisdom and truth, they know it in their bodies and they move, they more towards life instinctively, they know when they are being called because their bones, muscles, nerves, and organs have been formed in the legacy of their ancestors and it has been written into their genetic code.
I think, when we practice this type of listening, that we too will be capable of this type of responding, and we get to practice each and every week together, so long as we hold the intention of that time well, and when we experience being in that current of love, we are sure to say, “yes, that, right there, that is it…”
So, let us enter into this time together, and Friends, let’s head down to the river, let’s immerse ourselves in it, and let us love the process of feeling where the words come from.
Some queries to take into the water:
What has it felt like in your body, when you have noticed the voice or stirrings of God/Spirit moving within you or others? How did the words emerge from your mouth, or the mouths of others reach your heart differently?
As we witness the deterioration of our capabilities towards discerning truth in our culture, how might we Quakers step into this landscape, and offer guidance about ways of listening, and responding?
When have you heard your name being called in the crowd? How did it sound different then the other voices calling for your attention? When have you felt your animal body pulled, and what did it feel like to go?