Up a Tree

“So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way.” – Luke 19:4

I didn’t think my hands could grip so tight.
I also didn’t think I’d ever be this high.
So let’s be clear that I regret this choice.
I wish I hadn’t scaled these heights.

Were I to fall, the people down below
would step aside. I grant you that not one
of them could cushion me. We’d both
be left in broken bones and tears upon the road.

I really wish I hadn’t climbed this high
into this tree or into my career.
I used to see my neighbors’ faces as
they doled out coins. Now I just see the coins.

Their faces turn away before I can
pronounce their names, but not before
I recognize their scorn, their bitter fear,
and their disgust at just how high I’ve gone.

Too high. Too high. When branches creak
at heights like this, the climber’s soul
sways unassuaged by creature comforts,
linen, gold, attentive slaves.

I got myself into this tree. I don’t know how
to get myself down to the ground.
My hands are knotted to this limb.
My breath is hoarse as I cling on.

Ignore me, Jesus, Just pass by.
Don’t look up. Don’t notice me.
Don’t speak. Don’t call. Don’t ask me anything.
Above all else, don’t ask me to come down.

A poem/prayer based on Luke 19:1-10, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Proper 26 (31).

The image is Zachée sur le sycomore attendant le passage de Jésus (Zacchaeus in the Sycamore Awaiting the Passage of Jesus) by James Tissot – Online Collection of Brooklyn Museum; Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 2008, 00.159.189_PS2.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10904526.

Story: The Ambitious ‘Apapane

November 26, 2023

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24
Matthew 25:31:46

Do you know what it means to be ambitious? An ambitious person wants to do better things, and then better things, and then better things. An ambitious person might want to be rewarded for this by other people, with money, perhaps, or recognition, or more responsibility, or just simply with applause.

This story is not about an ambitious person. It’s about an ambitious ‘apapane.

Gazing over the summit of Kilauea, he couldn’t help but notice the koa’e kea soaring about on the rising warm air of the volcano. He determined to outdo the koa’e kea at soaring. He spent hours and days and weeks with his wings extended, carefully catching every breath of air.

But an ‘apapane’s wings are not the same shape or size as a koa’e kea, and he found himself either falling into an ‘apapane’s normal quick wing beats and a brief descent with wings closed, or… well, he found himself falling.

He briefly considered becoming an great ‘io, but he knew what his feathers tasted like from cleaning and preening them with his beak, and they didn’t taste good, so fortunately he didn’t become the first predatory ‘apapane.

He watched the ‘elepaio tapping tree limbs to find bugs and spiders, and he thought, yes, this would work. There must be some difference between an ‘elepaio’s beak and an ‘apapane’s, though, because the first time he tapped a tree it gave him such a pain. The second time it felt like he might turn his beak all the way around to the back of his head.

He was sitting there with a sore beak when his grandmother turned up.

“Grandson, what are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m trying to outdo the ‘elepaio,” he said.

“Really?” she said. “How is that going?”

“I’ve got a sore beak.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said. “Why are you trying to outdo the ‘elepaio?”

“I’m trying to be better and better and better than I am now,” he said. “I’ve got ambition.”

“So what else have you tried?” she asked.

He told her about trying to soar like a koa’e kea and admitted that he’d considered hunting like an ‘io. “I’m thinking about fishing like a noio next,” he said.

“You don’t eat fish,” she said.

“Perhaps I could be a better upside-down feeder than an i’iwi?” he asked.

“At least you’ve got close to the right feathers for that,” said his grandmother. “Have you ever considered getting better and better and better at the things you already do well?”

In fact, he hadn’t. His imagination had been entirely on being better than other birds, not getting better than himself.

“Try getting better and better and better at the things you do,” said his grandmother. “Let the ‘io and the koa’e kea be good at their things. None of them will ever be as good an ‘apapane as you.”

Be better and better and better at being you, my friends. Be better and better and better at being you.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories ahead of time, then tell them from memory – well, from memory and from re-creation. It won’t and doesn’t sound the same as the prepared text.

Photo of an ‘apapane and an ‘ohia blossom by Eric Anderson.