I hate feeding the birds. To get to the feeders, I have to climb up to a precarious position and can barely reach to bring them down. Squirrels, some of the most ingenious on the planet, like the seeds as much as the birds, so I have to get it as far out of their reach as possible. I just hope they don’t learn hang gliding.
Another issue is gophers. They tunnel around in that area right beneath the feeders, gobbling up what the birds miss. The moles get to be an issue, too. I blame it all on the the bird seed, and I hate every step of the whole process.
Last year I saw an indigo bunting a few times. The bluebirds hung out for a dozen weeks or so. I posted pictures on FB. But is it worth all that process?
No. Not in my opinion.
So why do I feed the birds every week (or less)? Because my wife loves watching the birds. I love her, so I do things just because I love her. Other “jobs” include washing dishes, vacuuming, and other dull things that go along with life. My least favorite is the bird thing.
Do I think feeding the birds earns her love or devotion? No. I do it because I love her, not in an attempt to get her to love me. The same thing goes for God.
Some people think doing “good things” will make God obligated to take them to Heaven when they die. That’s another way of saying God is a prostitute. I pay, He performs. The truth is about as far away from that as you can imagine.
Every “good thing” you do to earn Heaven Points is a waste of your time. God wants your love and devotion. Feed the poor all you want, but if you’re doing it so God sends you to Heaven, it’s idolatry. You’re not doing it for God, you’re doing it to get something out of Him. Even secular humanists can give food to the needy.
There’s a joke about a guy who dies and is stopped by Saint Peter. “You don’t get into Heaven unless you’ve earned a thousand Heaven Points. What have you done?”
The guy says, “I was married to my wife for thirty-five years and never even looked at another woman the whole time.”
Peter says, “That’s pretty good. Two points.”
They guy thinks two points? “Okay, I went to church every weekend, donated to the food pantry, and volunteered at Habitat for Humanity.”
Peter says, “Great! Three more points. Total of five.”
The guy says, “Only five points? I’m not gonna get to heaven but by the Grace of God!”
“Grace of God,” Peter says. “One thousand points.”
If you want God above all else, you’ll love your spouse, donate to feed the hungry, work to house the homeless . . . . and feed the birds.
