God and the Geese

GOD AND THE GEESE


There was once a man who didn’t believe in God, and he didn’t hesitate to let others know how he felt about religion and religious holidays. His wife, however, did believe, and she raised their children to also have faith in God and Jesus, despite his disparaging comments.

One snowy Eve, his wife was taking their children to service in the farm community in which they lived. They were to talk about Jesus’ birth. She asked him to come, but he refused. “That story is nonsense!” he said. “Why would God lower Himself to come to Earth as a man? That’s ridiculous!” So she and the children left, and he stayed home.

A while later, the winds grew stronger and the snow turned into a blizzard.As the man looked out the window, all he saw was a blinding snowstorm. He sat down to relax before the fire for the evening. Then he heard a loud thump. Something had hit the window. He looked out, but couldn’t see more than a few feet. When the snow let up a little, he ventured outside to see what could have been beating on his window.

In the field near his house he saw a flock of wild geese. Apparently they
had been flying south for the winter when they got caught in the snowstorm
and couldn’t go on. They were lost and stranded on his farm, with no food or shelter. They just flapped their wings and flew around the field in low circles, blindly and aimlessly. A couple of them had flown into his window, it seemed.

The man felt sorry for the geese and wanted to help them. The barn would be a great place for them to stay, he thought. It’s warm and safe; surely they could spend the night and wait out the storm.

So he walked over to the barn and opened the doors wide, then watched and
waited, hoping they would notice the open barn and go inside.

But the geese just fluttered around aimlessly and didn’t seem to notice the
barn or realize what it could mean for them. The man tried to get their attention, but that just seemed to scare them, and they moved further away. He went into the house and came with some bread, broke it up, and made a bread crumb trail leading to the barn. They still didn’t catch on.

Now he was getting frustrated. He got behind them and tried to shoo them toward the barn, but they only got more scared and scattered in every direction except toward the barn. Nothing he did could get them to go into the barn where they would be warm and safe.

“Why don’t they follow me?!” he exclaimed. “Can’t they see this is the only
place where they can survive the storm?” He thought for a moment and realized that they just wouldn’t follow a human. “If only I were a goose, then I could save them,” he said out loud.

Then he had an idea. He went into barn, got one of his own geese, and carried it in his arms as he circled around behind the flock of wild geese. He then released it. His goose flew through the flock and straight into the barn – and one-by-one, the other geese followed it to safety.

He stood silently for a moment as the words he had spoken a few minutes earlier replayed in his mind: “If only I were a goose, then I could save them!” Then he thought about what he had said to his wife earlier. “Why would God want to be like us? That’s ridiculous!”

Suddenly it all made sense. That is what God had done. We were like the geese – blind, lost, perishing. God had His Son become like us so He could show us the way and save us.

As the winds and blinding snow died down, his soul became quiet and pondered this wonderful thought. Suddenly he understood why Christ had come. Years of doubt and disbelief vanished with the passing storm. He fell to his knees in the snow, and prayed his first prayer: “Thank You, God, for coming in human form to get me out of the storm!”

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.

The way I heard it, she wasn’t actually his wife, and only two of those kids were his, unbeknownst to him. His wife came home from church and was amazed at how much roast goose there was for the holidays. :wink:

djm

And Merry Christmas to you, Brian.

I am not a Christian, but there’s something about the Christmas story and the Christmas season that touches me deeply.

It seems to me, something about the idea of God’s coming into the world, this stirring of the awareness God’s love in our midst, as the thought resonates through the souls of billions of people on Earth each Christmas season has a significance that transcends religions and doctrines.

Best wishes,
Jerry

Wi’ knobs on, walkin’ about wi’ clogs on.

Steve

Moral: Even non-Christians can be “Christ-like” and care for the welfare of the earth’s inhabitants. (Now if more “Christians” would behave in the same manner as the atheist in the story, then this world would be more in line with Christ’s teachings.)

Merry Christmas

Will O’

I dunno…seein’ as how the man in the story didn’t make the storm, I’m not sure the comparison really rings true.

If someone takes poison and you provide an antidote, you’re a hero, and worthy of praise.

If you give someone poison and then offer an antidode, you’re not quite as heroic or praiseworthy.

Just my $.02.

–James

Well, that’s the fallacy of expressing anything anecdotally. Especially something so important as religion.

Analogies such as the goose story are rarely so precise that every aspect corresponds, but that’s generally the nature of a parable. It’s just trying to illustrate something that’s hard to illustrate.

Regardless of each of our personal ideologies, we needn’t object to the sharing of stories which are meaningful to others.

I don’t object–in fact, I support your right to post such stories, just so long as you support my right to respond to them in my own way. That’s freedom of speech.

Wishing each and all a happy and safe holiday,

–James

According to Christian theology, we, not God, made
the storm. It is our being alienated from God, having
failed due to pride to take the outstretched hand
that was there all along,
hence we are lost, confused and blind. God took
drastic measures to save us.

I confess the idea that God (the infinite, purely
spiritual Creator of the Universe) became incarnate in
a human critter in Palestine, burped, farted, peed,
defecated, hiccuped, and finally got Himself murdered,
is for me both peerlessly silly and unsurpassably
moving.

Hark and hear the angels sing,
A new king born today,
And man shall live forever more
Because of Christmas day.

Good Em: James is right of course. Response is fair game here.
Bad Em: But maybe debating the theological intricacies of Brian’s story is
best reserved for the controversy forum.

Good Em: Are you a moderator Bad E? Is it really your call?
Bad Em: Grrrrr. I’ve got a pie to make. I’m making it bad.
Good Em: Merry Christmas James, Brian, Jim, all…

Y’know which Christmas story I hate?

The Little Match Girl.

What a downer that one is.

Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the Story of the Little Match Girl?

How about some rousing tales of Vikings hacking the Christians apart and sacking their monasteries? :smiley:

djm

There was once a very large girl who sold little matches.
She did poorly, and lived in awful poverty, because, well,
who buys little matches?

One Christmas, however, Santas elves…

I know! Why even have such a story?
Once, I innocently bought a nursery rhyme book for my children, only to discover a poem in it called “Babes in the Woods” wherein the 2 little kids get lost and die under a tree. Fortunately, my kids were pre-literate and I altered the words to suit myself.

Like the oft-reanimated feline of frequent reference, curiosity is often the bane of my existance.

Having looked up the story “The Little Match Girl” online, and read it, I am now trying to shake off the pall of hopeless gloom that this heart-rending little tale induces.

I see what you mean about that story. If it were any more cheerful, it would be downright frightening.

May you all have a safe, happy, well-fed, warm holiday season!

–James

What a bunch of Gloomy Gusses you are. I looked up The Little Match-seller by HC Andersen and thought it was a typical sugar-syrup Christian story, much in the same vein as the Goose thing - childishly heavy-handed treatment intended to brow-beat with the author’s sense of self-righteousness. It was intended to show some greater superiority in some fairytale ever-after land than this earthly one. I doubt very much the author intended you to feel sorry for the girl, but rather to rejoice in her elevation to a better, though superstitiously fabricated, one.

djm

The Little Match Girl was one of my favorite stories in my mom’s reader from the 1030s. I still remember the illustrations. I did not see it then as a sad ending, but a good one.I guess it is kinda weird that a kid would like that story. I haven’t read it as an adult. Hm, wonder if I’d like it now?

edited to add:

I just read two versions of the story-one for kids, and one more like the one that was in the old reading book. Strange how now we make the story much “softer” and not nearly as hard as the older version. I’m sure someone much smarter than myself could draw some conclusions between child of the 30’s and the story as presented then, and the kids of today and the way it is now told. Compared to the worlds they live in.

I do still like the older version of the story. I don’t think it is depressing.