From Archbishop Desmond Tutu:
you know the story of the farmer who in his back yard had chickens, and he had a chicken that was a little odd looking, but it was a chicken. It behaved like a chicken. It was pecking away like the other chickens. It didn’t know that there was a blue sky overhead and a glorious sunshine until someone who was knowledgeable in these things came along and said to the farmer, “Hey, that’s no chicken. That’s an eagle.” Then the farmer said, “Um, um—no, no, no—no man. That’s a chicken. It behaves like a chicken.” [And, of course, this is the same kind of exilic domestication we are distorted to, pecking at the ground, lost from our higher calling to grace and courage.] And the man said no; give it to me, please. And the farmer gave it to this knowledgeable man.
And this man took the strange-looking chicken and climbed the mountain and waited until sunrise. And then he turned this strange-looking chicken toward the sun and said, “Eagle—fly, eagle.” And the strange-looking chicken shook itself, spread out its pinions, and lifted off—and soared and soared and soared and flew away, away into the distance.
And God says to each of us, you are no chicken; you are an eagle. Fly, eagle, fly. And God wants us to shake ourselves, spread our pinions, and then lift off and soar and rise toward the confident and the good and the beautiful. Rise towards the compassionate and the gentle and the caring. Rise to become what God intends us to be—eagles, not chickens.[12]
Not chickens—not pecking at the ground in exile—but mounting up with wings like eagles. God has already rent the heavens and come down, in Christ Jesus, to empower us to flight. Have you not known? Have you not heard? You are no chicken. The Lord is the everlasting God who makes and remakes us for life in Christ, to spread our pinions, lift off and soar sunward. Like God’s original design. Like eagles. Like eagles.
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