My youngest son, Mark, raises, among other things, homing pigeons. I have been amazed how this creature I once thought of as nothing more than a city-nuisance, pecking around on the ground for any leftovers on the dirty city streets and park trash cans, could, and does, amaze me with their sense of wonder and amazement. Mark can release these pigeons from their coop, let them fly free for as long as they like, and, every time, they return to their home. He can even take them to a remote area, release them, and, like clockwork, they usually beat him home!
I've read a bit how the homing pigeons have a magnetic north somehow imprinted into their brain, and, how they use low frequency infra-sounds to give them a geographical marker no matter where they may be released that allows them to always know the way home. But, I have also witnessed Mark's care for the pigeons as a means to bring them home safely each day.
When he first got the pigeons, he asked me to feed them for a couple of days he would be gone. Sure, no problem, I thought. Just throw a little feed inside their coop and all's well... Not exactly. Mark gave me specific instruction on feeding his newly acquired "family members". Before I was to give them the food, I was first to shake a plastic bottle full of rocks and give a little whistle - This, Mark said, would teach the pigeons to respond to his calls any time they were within hearing distance (Which, with a pigeons keen sense of hearing, I've learned, can be a pretty long distance). As they heard the bottle shaking, the soft whistle, the call, they would associate it with their place to find, food, water, nurture... home.
I reluctantly shook the bottle full of rocks, whistled softly hoping nobody would witness my what seemed compulsive behavior and overkill for something as simple as feeding a few stupid birds. But, to my absolute amazement, after Mark had done this repeatedly, day after day, and week after week - His disciplined repetition paid off as he can release his beloved pigeons, call them at any time, and, soon they'll make back home...
Perhaps we all have that something innately imprinted into our heart that allows us to somehow sense the direction we need to go. Maybe we are able to hear God's voice softly speaking to our soul, beaconing us homeward. But, just maybe as well, we need that little extra effort to bring us home safely. That personalized calling, summons, reminder of who we are and where we really belong.
Maybe I can learn something from Mark about being the Church - That place, that family, that home for folks who may have never really had a place of belonging to be nurtured, taught, loved, called, and disciplined, so, no matter what life might throw their way; no matter what they might encounter on one of their daily flights; no matter where they may find themselves at any given time; they know there is one place, and perhaps one place alone, they can find the love, support, nurture, feeding they need for the well being of their souls - Their church - their family - their home...