What if They Held a Rapture and No One Was Invited?

Yesterday was May 21st, 2011.  For months, this day has been systematically etched into my brain by the multiple signs along the sides of the road that have proclaimed that it was to have been "Judgment Day".  At first, I had assumed that this was a "Bay Area phenomenon" (Like Bay to Breakers), but then I saw the signs up here in farm country and apparently there have been thousands across the country and around the world. 

I wish that it was easy for me to give myself over to full belief in an all-mighty and powerful God (Preferable a "loving" one too), but despite that, the day approached and unfurled with a degree of trepidation.  My rational brain felt that it was a very unlikely thing to happen.  My residual religious brain felt that it was highly unlikely that this retired engineer would know the day that was supposed to be secret, according to the Bible.  My guilty brain - it was eager for the sun to rise on this morning (The 22nd).

While it would probably be fun to succumb to the urge to satire and lampoon this organization for their blind faith, this has been done to much better comedic effect than I could pull off here (See the many websites for pictures of post-rapture empty clothes, or "Post-rapture pet insurance").  Honestly, parts of me envy the ability to believe so strongly in something like that.  My desire to believe continues to be my major obstacle as it casts doubt over any beliefs that I do have as this would be seen as a biasing factor (Despite the fact that my rational brain also recognized that if it were to play the odds, it is best to have faith).

No, instead of making fun of them, I would prefer to look at this from a different angle: "What if they held a Rapture and no one was invited?"  What if the predicted event did occur and none of us were found worthy?  What would it mean to be "worthy" (a.k.a. What is the method of "judgment")? 

In my mind, judgment day would play out like this.  I find myself alone and standing in a vast field of green grass (For those who have been to Farm Sanctuary in spring, this is easy to picture).  In front of me is a massive sea of people and animals that covers the skyline to the horizon.  As I look out across this scene, wondering how it was that I found myself here in this place, my eye catches motion.  One of the people from the crowd approaches and enters into my personal space.  Her face is vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.  Every attempt appears to be deliberately blocked.  She introduces herself and goes on to relate her story.  She and I had met at the Nob Hill in Milpitas.  She and her children had been standing outside the exit soliciting money for food and a ride home.  She related how I had offered to buy her groceries and give her a ride home, but how she had been too afraid to take me up on the offer based on a history that involved multiple incidents of abuse.  She reminded me that I had given her twenty dollars and treated her with dignity while doing so.  Then the woman turns and walks through the crowd before disappearing from sight. 

Next comes an elderly gentleman who moves very slowly and I find myself wondering if he will be able to make it.  Once again, he gets very close to me and I am sure that we have met before.  He tells me his name and our story.  He and his wife had been on their way to Toys 'R' Us with their grandson Peter when their car had over-heated.  None of them had realized this, at the time and he had pulled over and availed himself on the kindness of strangers.  My Honda CRX had been one of many cars that day which had driven by without stopping.  He tells this tale very matter-of-factly without a hint of anger or judgment, but the guilt and fear in my mind tell me that I have been judged.  As he walks slowly away, I perceive one of the blades of grass withering and turning to brown. 

This process continues for what seems like years in a constant procession of people and animals.  It is a mix of reminiscences that build me up and those which tear me down to my core.  In many cases, I had wanted to help, but had felt uncomfortable about it and had opted not to do so and in some, I had just not noticed the call for assistance.  As I scan the grass before me, I am shocked by the degree to which the season appears to be changing to summer.  My self-image as a compassionate person is shaken by what I see and what I have heard.  I am shocked by how selective I have been in forming my opinion of myself.  Gazing at the results of my judgment and wondering what it means for me, I am confronted with the reality that there is no "reset button" and no "do-overs" at this point and I feel my most profound fear.
Personally, I do not believe that we are judged for our minor transgressions (The fact that we are "hard-wired" to commit many of them is far too evident and our resolve is not always strong).  No, I believe that, if we are to be judged, it will be for our responses to requests for help from our fellow beings.  Fortunately for all of us, May 21st, 2011 came and went without hellfire and brimstone and maybe, just maybe the end days will never come.  Regardless of my inability at this moment to form a faith picture that includes a God, I am choosing to renew my faith in myself and do what I can to take out a more comprehensive insurance policy on my fields of green.  Then at least I will be worthy in my eyes and when my time comes, I will not be afraid.

My Girl Olive (a.k.a. Why Working with Turkeys Isn't Such a Bad Thing)

There are literally hundreds of animals at Farm Sanctuary Orland and I maybe know a tenth of them by name so far.  As the days pass, I have a chance to meet and make a connection with more and more of them and I figured that this may make for some good writing.

One of my daily tasks is to clean the Turkey Barn, also known as the "Turkey Lady and Special Needs Chicken Barn".  Here the older turkey ladies live with a group of chickens in a peaceful arrangement.  The best part of this particular assignment, for me at least, is the time that this allows me to spend with Olive, one of the turkey ladies.

Olive has little reason to trust or to even tolerate humans.  Almost as soon as she was born, she was subjected to the brutal practice called de-beaking , in which a large portion of her beak was seared off.  Why was this done you may ask?  Well, if turkeys are crammed together in factory farms, the stress will lead them to peck at each other so rather than do anything to alleviate the stress, the powers that be have adopted this cruel practice.  Try to imagine yourself and your four best friends living in a Mini Cooper for six months with the doors welded shut...I suspect that you wouldn't exactly get along either.  Fortunately, for you, this is not a common fate and no one would think it was acceptable to remove your hands, feet, and teeth to keep you from hurting your fellow passengers.  That would be inhumane!

Back to Olive, aside from this indignity, even before she was born, her suffering at the hands of man had begun.  Since humans collectively see turkeys as nothing more than food supplies, they have been engineered through selective breeding to be much bigger than they should be.  In our selfishness, we have created whole species variants of animals whose weight far exceeds the capacity of their legs.  This is the case with Olive as well and her diet has to be carefully controlled in order to prevent her from succumbing to arthritis and other crippling afflictions.  Like all of the turkey ladies, she is a little slow and has a slight limp to her gait.  This is medically treated, so her pain is managed, but what a sad testament to humanity's inhumanity.

Despite what has been done to her, Olive holds no grudges.  When I am working around her, she likes to follow me and loves attention.  If she is in the yard and I call her name, she will slowly make her way over to me and then plop down in front of me.  In my pre-Sanctuary days, I can't say that I knew the value of a "turkey-hug", but I sure do now.  This is just one of the affirming moments that make me so glad that I made the life changing move to come work here. 

Now, let me introduce my turkey girl, Olive.

I Can't Believe I Got the Picture!

When you are lucky enough to work in a magical place like I do, you will invariably have the chance to see some amazing things.  Based on a little known, and even less understood cosmic law, these things have an overwhelming tendency to happen only when there is no camera present.  As I was strolling around the Sanctuary for lunch the other day, I passed the Pig Barn and saw something really sweet.  Blossom the piglet (She is technically still the smallest although nowhere near the size she was when she fell asleep on my lap a year ago) was lying next to Calvin.  Now, for anyone who has been to the Sanctuary in the last few months, this isn't a surprise.  Calvin and Blossom have been a curious couple for a while now.  What was special about this time was that Blossoms front leg was wrapped around Calvin as if they were "spooning". 

Realizing that my effort was likely to be futile, I immediately set off running at a brisk pace (Not quite like the wind, per se, but more of the "gentle breeze with an occasional gust" that comes with getting older) to my car to get my camera.  When I got back to the Pig Barn, I was shocked to find that they hadn't moved an inch.

This was not a staged picture in any way.  Anyone who has worked with the pigs knows that while they are amazing creatures, they are not that cooperative...especially these two (And especially Blossom)!

Now I know that this pose was probably just a coincidence or, most likely, it just felt good for Blossom to have her leg in this position.  However, the bond that these two share is real based on many observations, and maybe, just maybe, this is a manifestation of a love that we can see and recognize.  I am so glad I was able to get this picture!