Cooperative breeding, in which an animal assists in caring for offspring not its own, is often found in nature. But researchers in Hawaii have recently discovered a case involving long-term pairs of unrelated birds of the same sex.
Lindsay C. Young of the University of Hawaii and colleagues studied a colony of Laysan albatrosses on Oahu from 2004 to 2007. These birds are monogamous, and both parents participate in raising a single hatchling. The researchers reported in Biology Letters that nearly one-third of the 125 pairs consisted of two unrelated females, and half of these stayed together for the duration of the study.
The researchers note that for female-female pairing like this to occur, usually there has to be a surplus of females in the population. For same-sex pairing to persist, the researchers say, both females should have opportunities to reproduce. They found evidence for that: for some pairs that produced chicks in more than one year of the study, at least one was from each female.
Male and female He made them, but female and female raise the chicks.
Mark Stoll, a history professor at Texas Tech University, in Lubbock, Texas, argues that Catholics have not been prominent environmentalists in the past because their religious worldview encouraged a sense of sacredness among a community of people rather than with nature.
In a paper entitled The Catholic Ethic and the Spirit of Environmentalism, Stoll writes, “Religiously-minded Catholics dedicated themselves in service to the Church, or to the poor, or to the unconverted - to society, in other words…and by and large left nature writing to Protestants, alone in the woods with their God.” While Catholics have always appreciated the natural world, their passion for ecology has usually been an afterthought to their commitment to social concerns.
But, as Stoll points out, ecology is becoming a social concern. In his statement for the World Day of Peace in 1990, Pope John Paul II said, “the ecological crisis is a moral issue (that) has assumed such proportions as to be the responsibility of everyone.” In response, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops issued Renewing the Earth, in which they insist that “the ecological problem is intimately connected to justice for the poor.”
“How,” they ask, “may we apply our social teaching, with its emphasis on the life and dignity of the human person, to the challenge of protecting the earth, our common home?”
I took this photo of St. Kevin at Our Lady of Knock Shrine in Ireland when I visited in early April 2008. Somehow, the setting of just-budding trees was perfect for the saint who was reputed to stand still until a nest of birds had hatched in his hand.
Seamus Heaney, Ireland’s great poet, wrote a poem about it - St. Kevin and the Blackbird:
”Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked
Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked
Into the network of eternal life
Is moved to pity; now he must hold his hand
Like a branch out in the rain and sun for weeks
Until the young are hatched and fledged and flown.”
St. Kevin has a lot of animal stories attached to his legend: the boar that came to him for protection against hunters; healing the pet goose of the King of Glendalough; the otter that brought him a salmon for dinner every night; and having a doe and then a she-wolf wet nurse Faelan, the infant son of King Colman of the Faelain. The king blamed evil spirits for the deaths of his other children, but the one entrusted to the saint and the animals grew up healthy and strong.
The great connection of ancient Irish saints to nature, their wondrous relationships with the earth and its creatures and the miracles they inspire, is part of Celtic Christianity. It is also a part of their time, when people lived close to the land and relied on it for sustenance and spirituality.
By the same token, today’s saints and blessed individuals generally seem to be cityfolk primarily interested in politics. Their lack of connection by grace or inspiration with animals and the natural world is indicative of just how much connection to creation Catholicism has lost.
The works and life of Br. Thomas Merton, Sr. Dorothy Strang and the strong commitment by Pope Benedict to environmental protection are hopeful signs for Catholic environmentalists to take heart we may be experiencing a renaissance in creation-centered spirituality.
The British group Catholic Concern for Animals has enlisted British TV chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and another celebrity chef, Jamie Oliver, to persuade the bishops of England and Wales to promote their dioceses as “free-range” users.
The animals rights group - whose members include Bishop Malcolm McMahon of Nottingham - wants all parish, rectory, school, convent and retreat centre dining halls to use only free-range poultry and eggs.
A talented writer, broadcaster and campaigner, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is widely known for his commitment to seasonal, ethically produced food. His books, journalism and television series have earned him a huge popular following. He is also a strong supporter of the rights of local farmers and principals of fair trade.
Determined to start growing and rearing some of his own food, in 1998 Hugh started living in the original River Cottage farm in rural Dorset. His steep learning curve was documented in the Escape to River Cottage series (1999) which won him a big audience.
Originally a collection of mucky cow sheds, the property was transformed into a rustic, welcoming venue with a professional kitchen, thriving vegetable garden and small collection of livestock. It became the location for a range of River Cottage events and courses designed to promote the “grown your own” philosophy and provide an environment where people could dicuss, eat and learn about really good, well-produced food.
The man who became Saint Modhomhnoc (or Modomnoc) came from the royal line of Ui Neill of Ulster.
He wanted to be a priest and so he left Ireland and went to be educated under the great Saint David at Mynyw (Menevia, now Saint David’s) Monastery in Wales. All those who resided in the community were expected to share in the manual work as well as the study and worship; Modomnoc was given charge of the bees and he loved it. He cared for them tenderly, keeping them in straw skeps in a special sheltered corner of the garden, where he planted the kinds of flowers bees loved best.
Every time they swarmed, he captured the swarm very gently and lovingly and set up yet another hive. He talked to the bees as he worked among them and they buzzed around his head in clouds. It was if they were responding to his soothing words.
His years of study ended, and Modomnoc had to return to Ireland to begin his priestly ministry. While he was glad to be returning home, he knew he would miss his bees. On the day of his departure, he said good-bye to the Abbott, the monks, and his fellow students. Then he went down to the garden to bid his little friends farewell.
They came out in answer to his voice and never was there such a buzzing and excitment among the rows of hives. The monks stood a distance watching the commotion in wonder. “You’d think the bees knew,” they said. “You’d think they knew that Modomnoc was going away.”
Modomnoc resolutely turned and went down and boarded the ship. When they were about three miles from shore, Modomnoc saw what looked like a little black cloud in the sky in the direction of the Welsh coast. He watched it curiously as as it came closer, he saw to his amazement that it was a swarm of bees. It was a giantic swarm - all the bees from the monastery hives followed him out to sea!
Twice Modomnoc had the boat turn back and brought the bees back to their garden. On the third time his boat set sail Modomnoc prayed ferverently that the bees would stay in their pleasant garden rather than risk their lives at sea. But, for the third time, he saw the black cloud rise over the coast of Wales. This time, the boat did not turn back. Resigned to the will of God and the persistence of his faithful friends, he coaxed the swarm into a sheltered corner of the boat. There, much to the relief of the sailors, they quietly remained throughout the voyage.
When Modomnoc landed in Ireland, he set up a church at a place called Bremore, near Balbriggan, in County Dublin, and there he established the bees in a happy garden just like the one they had in Wales. The place is known to this day as “the Church of the Beekeeper.”
My thanks to Catholic Ireland and Irish Culture and Customs for this lovely story.
The Feast of St. Anthony the Abbott, the patron saint of the animal kingdom, is celebrated on the Sunday closest to January 17th. The ceremony celebrates and gives appreciation for the services provided to the human race by the animal kingdom.
St. Anthony lived in Egypt in the 3rd century A.D. In addition to being one of the inspirational leaders of monasticism, he has long been associated with the caring for and healing of animals.
His particular concern for their well-being stems from curing a pig of ergotism, a disease associated by eating bad grain. For this reason, St. Anthony is often depicted accompanied by a pig.
On the Feast of St. Anthony of Abad, both livestock and domestic animals are brought to St. Peter’s Square to be blessed, and to other churches in Rome’s historical center. In 19th century Rome, the Esquiline area still proliferated with sheep, cows, horses, chickens and other livestock that were led by herders to the churches to be blessed.
San Giovanni dei Fiorentini, St. Phillip Neri’s former parish, has long welcomed dogs since the saint permitted them to be present at Mass in order to encourage their owners to attend the liturgy. On the Feast of St. Anthony, the four-legged congregation was blessed along with their human family members.
Saint Brigid was born in 450 A.D. in Faughart in County Louth as a daughter of a Christian slave and Dubhtach, a pagan chieftain who owned her. Brigid was raised by a female Druid. She grew up to embody the Celtic ideal - one who was generous, handsome and brave.
Saint Brigid became a powerful and beloved Irish religious figure, second only to Saint Patrick. She has been described as “a saint who was at least as interested in farming and domestic matters as she was effective in prayer in leadership.”
Known for her humility and concern for the poor, it has been written that “oftentimes when the very greatest sought her, they found her not in the hall nor the church, but, though it might be blowing or snowing, off in the fields herding the cattle that gave milk to the monastery, or the sheep that gave them wool.”
One delightful legend describes a time when Brigid was caught in a sudden rain shower while tending sheep. Taking off her wet cloak, she hung it on a sunbeam to dry…
Another legend describes the encounter of Saint Brigid and the boar.
“In olden times the ground around a monastery was enclosed and was regarded as holy ground; it was a sacred place and no one had any right to destroy or damage it. A criminal running from the law could seek sanctuary in the monastery and no one could do anything to him until he himself agreed to leave.
In St. Brigid’s time the animals of the woods seemed to know about this law also. One day a wild boar was being chased by hunters and was nearing capture when he managed to reach Saint Brigid’s convent at Cill Dara. The huntsmen were forced to halt outside the gates and wait. They expected the nuns to chase the boar out so that they could easily pounce and kill it.
Brigid was saddened to see the poor board stagger in, so she called to it and then sent a message to the hunters, saying the animal had the right of sanctuary just as human beings had. They sent back a message saying that animals are only animals and didn’t have the same rights as men. Could they please have their boar back? Brigid sent back another message saying that as far as she was concerned the animal had the same right of sanctuary and there the matter ended.
The disappointed hunters rode away. Then Brigid tended the wild boar; it was lying down, exhausted and bleeding from its long run and nearly frightened to death. She gave it a drink and then led it to her own herd of pigs on the monastery farm. At once the boar became quite tame and settled down with the other pigs and lived happily there for the rest of its life.
Perhaps the best known story of the saint is her visit to a dying pagan chieftain. While she stayed with him and prayed, she plaited rushes into a cross. The chieftain heard her account of the cross as a Christian symbol, and was converted and baptised before he died.
Saint Brigid’s crosses make of rushes are hung up in Irish homes on Saint Brigid’s Day (the old Celtic festival of Imbolc) on February 1. In Irish folk tradition, the cross is believed to protect the building and its inhabitants from fire.
When German settlers arrived in Pennsylvania in the 1700s they brought a tradition known as Candlemas day. Candlemas is also associated with the pagan holiday of Imbrolc, which heralds the coming of spring.
German folklore held that on Candlemas day, if a hedgehog saw its shadow, there would be six more weeks of winter. When they migrated to the United States, there were no hedgehogs. The local Indians had great respect for the groundhog which they called “Wojac” (where we get the name “woodchuck”) which they considered an ancestor. So the tradition was changed from a hedgehog to a woodchuck or groundhog.
“Groundhog Day” has been celebrated for a long time in the United States. Back on February 4, 1841, a Morgantown, PA shopkeeper named James Morris wrote in his diary..”Last Tuesday, the 2nd, was Candlemas Day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate.”
This morning Punxsutawney Phil, our official groundhog, predicted six more weeks of winter. 
