Sometimes I act like a crow.
I didn’t really know that I did until I read an interesting story about the crow’s uncanny ability to recognize human faces. When we look at a bunch of crows we see, well, a bunch of crows. But, when crows look at us they can recognize the guy who tried to hit them with a broom, or the lady who feeds them. In fact, according to the report, a bus driver almost lost her job because the crows she regularly fed started following her to work. Have you seen Hitchcock’s The Birds lately?
When researchers decided to test the recognition talents of crows they began wearing specific masks when they would trap the crows, and other masks, or no masks at all, when they were just around the birds to observe. After one session of trapping birds in a caveman mask, the researchers noted that the once ambivalent murder of crows became downright angry when researchers came around wearing the caveman mask again. They knew the face of danger, and they remembered it…so far, up to four years later.
One interesting finding of the research is that the crows responded to the mask no matter who wore it, regardless of height, build, gender, etc. The crows evidently noticed and recognized the face. That might make you think twice about the birds sitting on the wire over your head.
But, I couldn’t help, when I was reading this story, but think of my own crow-like tendencies: how I often make judgments based on appearance; how I tend to view certain sins as more heinous than others, no matter who is wearing them; how I am quick to forgive some people and some sins, but incredibly slow at forgiving others. I couldn’t help but think of my judgmental tendencies to see masks instead of the people under them.
And, do you know what happens when a group of us get together to wallow in our judgments? We begin to look like a murder of angry crows to the “sinners” we judge, avoid, and despise. We lose our identity and our influence.
I can only pray that God wakes me up to my own sin.
Do you think he’ll make me eat crow?