Landmarks lead us home

Time and gravity had taken their toll and the old brick chimney canted to the north, threatening our neighbor's roof. Something had to be done, and brick by brick, the chimney was dismantled, revealing a well-formed, obviously annually refreshed, bird's nest. They had carefully selected each twig and inspected every speck of cotton before weaving it into the wall of their home. It must have been there for years.

All summer long, they came, first from the west. Then from the south. A little to the north? Try it from the east. Landing on the roof, they paused long enough to tilt their heads this way and that, sure that this was the spot.

Though that was years ago, I still remember how I admired the tenacity of those birds, I remember watching them try to figure out why, since they had flown over the same landmarks time after time, they kept landing in this strange, nest-less world.

I'm sure neighbors of Norris Park have witnessed or will soon witness, a similar phenomenon as the birds return to their springtime nesting places and find instead an empty sky, not even the edge of roof left on which to perch and ponder.

Long years ago, landmarks I didn't even know I had came in handy when, at 17, Danny and I headed to the "family farm" in Albion, Iowa. Traveling through the night, across more than 750 miles, we arrived in Albion, with no map and no street numbers and pulled into the drive as if I'd been there hundreds of times, instead of twice, once when I was six, then again at age 12.

Landmarks. I still rely on them, Mapquest, Google and Garmin notwithstanding, I watch for landmarks to get me where I'm going. They tell me when to turn right or when to turn left, and in their absence, I know when it's time to turn around.

For generations, America kept close watch on her moral landmarks. And if we strayed too far to the left or too far to the right, we knew to turn around and return to the last known landmark, where we could, once again, regain our bearings.

It seems the tree shearers have come. With not so much as a rooftop on which to perch and ponder, America is busily flying off in this or that direction, entering uncharted skies that are quickly filling with storm clouds and capricious winds, buffeting us on every side.

A recent poll, in fact, indicates that 50 percent of adult Americans believe that Christianity is no longer the default faith of the nation and is now just one of many options Americans choose from. The survey further shows that of those who do affiliate with Christianity, either through church membership or by a statement of faith, 1/3 believe Jesus sinned and half do not believe that Satan exists. Who can say what other landmarks have been obscured through the years?

The storm clouds continue to build. Financial collapse is the order of the day, and has eclipsed all but the most tragic of news stories in our daily paper and on the evening news. President Obama flies hither, thither and yon, seeking consensus and to demonstrate his ability to lead us through these uncharted skies. Without relying on the tried and true landmarks, however, the path is not only perilous, the destination is unknown.

The compass points have not changed. The landmarks remain. We ignore them at our own peril. It begins with personal responsibility. Whether in paying the mortgage or accepting the consequences of unprotected sex without committing murder, it's up to us. Marriage on the rocks? Ride it out to safe harbor or jump ship, right into the jagged rocks. Your choice. A little short this week? No need to scrimp to get by, just pad the expense account, "they" have more money than they need anyway.

All that's gone wrong in America first went wrong with us, individually. We knew the landmarks. But we've skirted around them so many times, justifying the detours, we have paved the way for others -- who had no prior knowledge of the landmarks -- losing them, ourselves, our children and our children's children along the way.

America is a diverse nation, a people of innumerable cultures. Once upon a time, no matter where our forebears came from, we were still able to see the landmarks and make sense of them, without destroying our heritage. Is is too late to go back to where it all went wrong? Can we regain our moral lndmarks? Or are we on the downhill side of a one-way highway headed for hell?

"Yet my people have forgotten me; they burn incense to worthless idols, which made them stumble in their ways and in the ancient paths. They made them walk in bypaths and on roads not built up." Jeremiah 18:15 (NIV)