A Man and a Mourning Dove

How do Catholic men living in today’s confusing and chaotic world make sense of what it means to live an authentic life of faith as we reach out to the lost and hurting with the Gospel of Jesus Christ? How do we move past our own pride and the struggles over our own trials in order to share the journey of salvation with others who are living in their personal prisons, many just struggling to hang on day by day?

During these long, lonely months of isolation, I wrestled a great deal with this question. I admit that my own spiritual struggles along this road of tears had caused me to withdraw from the world to a place where I could hunker down against the insanity of lockdowns and social separation, and shut out the problems of the world. For a while I was content to wander in the wilderness of my spiritual poverty; but all the while I knew I was neglecting my call as a believing man to bring healing to others through sharing the love of Christ in word and deed.

Enter the Holy Spirit, this time literally in the form of a dove, to renew my mind and redirect my heart to a more authentic Catholic experience of the power of redemption. Out of an ordinary but profound experience on a lonely country road, I rediscovered my deep connection to the incarnational Savior. There, in the form of a tiny bird, Christ revealed himself through both suffering and comfort. In this simple, intimate encounter, I once again opened my heart to God’s refining love, and allowed it to speak to me in the midst of my ongoing journey of trials.

Alone Along the Road

During a prayer walk around my town, I came across a lovely mourning dove, sitting on the side of the road. The poor creature was not moving and I could see that some of her feathers had been torn out between her wings. She had obviously been clipped by a passing vehicle and was either stunned or more severely injured.

Now I knew that these things sometimes happen, that not a sparrow falls to the ground outside our Father’s will, and that my intervening in the situation might do more harm than good. But in that moment, my heart broke for this beautiful bird and I felt compelled to reach down and gently pick her up, cradling her in my hands. I decided to share in her suffering for a time and to carry her home to see if I could somehow nurse her back to health.

As I was walking, talking softly to the mourning dove and assuring her of my good intentions, I began to meditate on the nature of God’s call to men to reach out to others with the Good News of Jesus Christ. My contemplations quickly turned personal. I thought about the bird and considered my reasons for helping her – and for helping the people I encountered every day who were spiritually stranded on the road of life. Did my heart truly ache for those who were lost or was I merely looking to be seen as a hero rescuing those who have fallen? Did I truly fear for the souls of those around me who were in danger of destruction or were my actions merely an insincere way to address my own inner needs?

Growing in Love Along the Journey

The beauty of real life object lessons for Catholic men is that they become sacramental in how they connect the ordinary things of earth to the extraordinary graces of heaven. Holding the mourning dove carefully in my hands as I walked home, I made sure to keep her secure without putting too much pressure on her wings. I thought about how my heavenly Father holds me gently in his mighty hands, keeping me from flying off in the wrong direction while never overwhelming me with the weight of his glory as I heal from the hurts of this world.

It is truly a comfort to know that God delights in teaching us through our experiences as we connect them to the suffering of his Son. Because I have learned the meaning of agape love through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, and because God’s perfect affection has caught me up in the mighty grasp of his comfort and care, I have been graced to grow in perfection and share that same love – with a small injured bird or a hurting soul at the precipice of despair. The same grace that comes to me through the sacramental love of Christ can be extended outward to a world of people weary and waiting for rescue.

Like this poor, frightened bird I may not always recognize that what God is doing in my life is for my good. Too often I want to fly away from the distress to the false safety of earthly regions, only to learn in sorrow that my faith is too broken to bring me anywhere but to a place of deeper pain. But when I allow my Father to carry me to where I need to be, I know that I can find the healing I need to soar again.

Truth and Love and the Wings of Eagles

I carried the mourning dove home to my backyard and made her a little nest of leaves, brought her some sunflower seeds and water, and then left her in the sun, watching over her throughout the rest of that day. I had no idea what would happen to her, but I was now connected to her in her suffering. I lifted her in prayer before the Father and left her to his providential care. I hoped that with time her wounded wings would regain their strength so she could fly again.

The God who brings us safely home to himself is a God of truth and love. His truth is expressed in our lives through the love of our Lord’s sacrifice so that we may be able to bear the full measure of its weight. His love breathes truth into our hearts so that we remain ever aware of our need for him as we grow in our understanding of the Gospel and its power to change lives. His Truth is never too harsh, nor his love too mild. This truth is revealed perfectly in the cross as we join our sufferings to Christ. The overwhelming love of Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection that we celebrate in the sacraments pours out rivers of truth into our souls, remaking us into his image and moving us ever forward to become his hands and feet to a bruised and broken world.

As I grow as a Catholic man, I know that I have been given God’s truth and love like two wings that enable my soul to soar toward the heavens. Both must work together, one never overshadowing the other, in order for me to fly. If I seek to love but neglect to use that love to speak the truth to those who are lost, I water down the message of the Gospel. If I proclaim God’s truth without taking into account the weaknesses and sorrows of my hearers, I turn the holy word into a weapon that will surely wound. Only as I seek to share God’s truth in a spirit of sacrificial love can the message of salvation ever bring the healing this weary world needs.

Freedom to Fly and a Sign of Hope

Throughout the rest of the day, my little mourning dove friend moved across the yard, beginning in the shadow and safety of her leafy nest, and then to the warmth of the open grass. The next day when I went to check on her, I found she had flown away. I was filled with great contentment knowing that God had been merciful to her, healing her and allowing her to take to the heavens once more.

In that hour of joy and solitude, I listened for her sweet song, hoping I would have some sign of her resurrection to new life. Although all was quiet in that moment, God revealed himself to me later that day. On another quiet walk I saw a mourning dove – perhaps even the same one – sitting on the side of the road, looking up at me for a moment before flying away, her somber song ringing in my grateful ears. In that solemn moment I felt the presence of God washing over me, refreshing my soul like broken bread and poured out wine.

I knew that I had had little to do with that lovely bird’s recovery, and that the entire experience had ultimately been more for my benefit than for hers. The One who saw the mourning dove’s falling to the ground was the same grace-giving God who had witnessed my own falling from grace and the brokenness of my desire to live a life of sacrificial love. It was he who had lifted me up in his strong and gentle hands and carried me to a place where I could be nourished and find rest for my weary soul. He had allowed me to move step by step from the safety of my uncertainty and sorrow to the light of his grace until once more I found the strength to sore on the wings of eagles.

We are All Mourning Doves

The song of the mourning dove may seem sad and somber, but to those who have heard her sweet refrain on a quiet morning, it is a joyful calling to the mystery of each new day. Catholic men are called to become like this beautiful bird, moving through this world of trials and singing out own spiritual song of solitary hope to the heavens. If we put our trust in our heavenly Father, we can rest in the knowledge that other struggling souls with ears to hear will listen to our tender cry of love.

So many of us have been wounded along the way of salvation, and we long to ascend to the heavenly realms and offer our praise to the One who holds us in his loving hands. Catholic men are called daily to share in the sufferings of others as we sing the hope of the Gospel into their lives.

Men, as you make your way along the road of life, take time to join with the ones who are hurting, those who have been made lame by life’s unfolding, and lift them up to the tender care of our heavenly Father whose all-seeing eyes never miss the fall of one of his little ones. Each day, live out your Catholic calling to take the incarnational truth and sacramental love of the Gospel to others, joining your trials with theirs as you unite with the suffering of Christ and allow your journey of faith to heal you and lead you home.