Let's Talk Turkey

In addition to the year-long village store responsibilities, I will have the shorter-lived responsibilities of raising turkeys.  Eight days before I arrived the young poults were donated to the WHR farm.  These particular turkeys grow quite quickly: by the time Thanksgiving arrives (for those in Canada, American Thanksgiving is in November on the 25.  They will be large enough to sell to the many customers of the farm who want to celebrate in the traditional manner.

Raising 96 turkeys requires a significant amount of time (100 turkeys were initially donated to us, but 4 died in the first week—this is a spectacular number since others expect a 10-15% loss early on).  Each day, they receive fresh water and new feed; each time I eat, the turkeys are fed and watered too.  They also need their bedding raked every few days, and new bedding must be added at least once a week (sometimes more often).  In addition to the tasks mentioned above, the temperature in their pen must be regularly monitored, and it must be controlled when it becomes too hot or too cold.

For the past few weeks we have had them out to pasture.  There they eat bugs and greens (primarily grass).  They also have the chance to be turkeys.  When they are let out of their pen in the morning, they run, jump and flap their wings; and once one turkey starts running they all follow.  Turkeys also like dust baths: they sit in the dirt and use their wings to flick dust onto their bodies.  It has been enjoyable for me to watch these birds exhibit their “turkeyness.”

While all this work is being invested into raising these birds, there has not been much time to think of what end they will meet in November.  It is undeniable—life must be given so that we can eat; but how will I do when that day comes.  By the end of November, I will have put countless hours into raising these turkeys.  I have done it knowing they would become meals, and while I understand the reason these birds are being cared for, how will I feel when they are slaughtered—When I slaughter them.

Occasionally, I have taken the time to contemplate the breadth of the above apothegm: life is sustained by death.  As a result of my studies, I cannot help but think of the ways in which the physical provides a means of understanding the metaphysical.  Just as a part of a plant dies or an animal dies for all creation to continue life, so Christ died that we might have life.  As I think on this, I begin to realize how little I know, how limited the analogy is, and how weak and needy, intricate and hearty I am. 

There is much more to be discussed on this issue; I am certain I will be considering these things for the duration of my life.  Feel free to post any thoughts you may have.