New life is the miracle. It doesn’t have to be human, dead, or religious. The joy of a tiny chicken or duck or other baby bird bursting from the egg would have given Jesus more laughter and celebration than all the bible banging in the world.

I had a pet chicken who gave me an egg one Christmas morning. I have never received any better gift, nor offered with more of oneself in it, nor with more self sacrifice. I’ll stand before god on the day of judgment and say that with absolutely no fear of his condemnation.

Those who have ears will hear that the gospel of life matters more than 2,000 year old texts that do nothing but judge people (and which of us has the right to do that?!).

Jesus is reborn again and again, and as for god, not even a sparrow falls without notice.

There was a commercial in Washington State a couple years ago, for the state lottery. In just one minute it told a story of a man who won the lottery and realized his dream of giving flightless birds a chance to fly (through hang gliding). One was a penguin, one a chicken, and one an emu. Chickens can in fact fly–not high and not far. But I think you’re right. They too must dream of soaring just as we humans do. In their groundedness, they and we have so much in common. I feel truly sorry for people who cannot look at such wonderful creatures and see them for who they are. They can pray themselves purple, and never touch the heart of Creation.