Unwanted Heroes
I love bats--not Halloween--bats. Most people don't share my enthusiasm for these beautiful, nocturnal aviators, which is understandable. I used to be afraid of them myself. When I was little, I reacted negatively to a picture of a bat, and my mom replied, "That bat is not evil. God made bats." She said I was probably afraid of them because I didn't know much about them, and encouraged me to learn about bats and then see if I was still scared of them. I did. And I went from fear to fandom.
Bats are unsung agricultural heroes. They control insect populations, saving farmers from spending billions on pesticides. Nectar eating bats are vital pollinators, especially for the agave plant. Fruit bats propagate plant life by distributing seeds. The maintenance of rainforests is heavily dependent on their constant involvement. And their guano enriches soil at home and abroad, like fertilizer. The very ways God designed bats to function, from flight to echolocation, have inspired innovations like sonar, medical imaging technology, gliding suits, and more. Only one species, the vampire bat, actually consumes blood, and they are far more likely to seek that from cattle than human beings. But this proclivity, due to popular folklore and bad literature, has been wrongly attributed to all bat species, and caused people to hate and fear them, rather than appreciating the good that most bats do.
But bats don't need praise or permission from people to do the work God designed them to complete. You may not like knowing that your garden is thriving this year because a bat stopped by to help out, but you can be glad that everything is going well, all the same. You may not always like the package your divine assistance comes in, but that doesn't diminish its vitalness or validity.
This is a soapbox for another day, but studying these amazing creatures helped me to make peace with my place in the world and the assignments I do in it. I'm not going to be everyone's cup of tea. I'm not made to be. That's not my job. And just because I don't fit the prescribed image doesn't mean my contributions are not impactful and meaningful in the Kingdom. I will never know the full impact until all things are new, because much of it is done in secret; metaphorically, in the dark. Matthew 6:6 again. God continuously uses this little, misunderstood part of creation to encourage me--something I used to fear has become a symbol of hope, and a reminder that God knows things we do not.
God specializes in including unwanted heroes in His plans. The story of Elijah is full of them. Elijah, himself, was an unwanted hero, a prophetic mountain man of God who barreled onto the scene, announcing judgement against the Baal-worshiping nation of Israel. The judgement took the form of a three-year drought, courtesy of Deuteronomy 11:17, a shocking punishment to the minds of those who trusted Baal to bring them rain and healthy crops. Even Elijah's name, which means, "Yahweh is my God," would have been an affront to most of Israel and its pagan monarchs during that time. In the course of his mission, the rugged prophet would shame Ahab and Jezebel, embarrass and annihilate the prophets of Baal and Asherah, and prove to Israel through a trial by fire that Yahweh is the true God. All necessary tasks commissioned to an undaunted, unwanted man, who would help turn the hearts of the people back to God.
Even the members of creation God employed to sustain Elijah during his mission were societal rejects. Ravens were considered unclean--like bats--and yet, they provided bread and meat for Elijah while he waited by the Brook Cherith. Scavenging birds of death brought sustenance for life. The widow at Zarephath was a doubly unwanted person. Widows were often dismissed to begin with, but this woman was especially taboo, because she was a Gentile. Not only a Gentile, but a resident of Jezebel's home turf, as Zarephath belonged to Sidon. By Jewish law, she was as unclean as the ravens. Yet, she faithfully gave all she had to sustain the man of God at her doorstep, and was provided for by Jehovah Jireh throughout the course of the famine. A "dead" woman partnered with God to sustain life.
Preempting any protests the prophet might make due to common prejudices, God informed Elijah both times that these unlikely allies were appointed by Him. Armed with that knowledge, Elijah accepted their aid in full faith, recognizing that, although the circumstances were strange, and the help came from unlikely heroes, God was purposefully engineering all of it.
Absolutely use discernment in all situations. But the next time good help comes to you in a package you're less than thrilled about, think of the widow and the ravens. Think of Elijah. And yes, think about me and my bats.
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