Canary In A Coal Mine
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"Canary in a Coal Mine" by Frank Ramirez
Canary in a Coal Mine
by Frank Ramirez
"Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?" (Mark 13:4)
Many people have heard of the saying “A canary in a coal mine.” It refers to the practice of coal miners before there was sophisticated machinery to test the air, of carrying canaries in a cage down into the coal mine. If at any point the canary stopped singing and died it meant that the level of carbon monoxide was sneaking up and it was time to get out of there.
The poor canaries served as an early warning system, a sign that needed to be read and understood, that a potential disaster was on the way. Regardless of the morality of using canaries as guinea pigs -- pardon the mixed metaphor -- there was one occasion when an elephant, not a canary, actually served as an early warning system. Unfortunately most people could not read the signs and even if they could have, it’s unlikely anyone would have taken it all that seriously. Most everyone who died would probably have died anyway.
This example comes from the book Krakatoa, The Day The World Exploded: August 27, 1883.by Simon Winchester. The book is obviously about the famous eruption of the Indonesian volcano, which sent eleven cubic miles of powdered mountain into the air. It was heard over two thousand miles away. It caused a tsunami that killed over thirty-six thousand people and changed weather around for the world for a couple of years. Among the many stories great and small that Winchester tells, there’s a strange incident that should have had more significance in a chapter titled: “The Curious Case of the Terrified Elephant.”
Winchester writes about many signs that something momentous was about to happen. Black smoke rising from the deeps, rumblings from the fiery abyss, the rattling of windows and doors, and plates falling off shelves to shatter into tiny pieces. For over three months the volcano was busy giving signs that something momentous was going to happen.
Yet people tried to carry on as if nothing was happening. And so on July 30, 1887 John and Anna Wilson’s Great World Circlus sailed into town -- Batavia being the town as a matter of fact.
There performers of every kind, fire eaters, tightrope-walkers, gymnasts, beautiful women, Arabian horses, clowns a cannonball catcher-- over a hundred different acts.
There was a also a “very small circus elephant, a favorite with children, who juggled balls and performed other tricks.” It was, by all accounts, very gentle. However, halfway through the circus’ stay the elephant began to behave strangely. The elephant’s handler, Nanette Lochart, worried that perhaps some of the performers were teasing the poor creature, so she moved the elephant into her hotel room.Then she left for dinner.
The elephant responded by trampling the room, in Winchester’s words, “to smithereens.” Guests were certain the entire hotel was about to collapse. The owner of the hotel found Miss Lochart, then demanded that not only she and her elephant but everyone associated with the circus leave the hotel.
Which they did.
Some think that the elephant, like many animals, was sensitive to the changes in the earth, as if sensing that some disaster was about to happen. Left alone with the comfort of his mistress it went berserk. No one read the signs that the elephant felt clearly. Something very terrible was about to happen.
Something very terrible happened.
A day later the Krakatoa volcano blew up.
If the elephant was reading the signs correctly, no one was taking the sign of the elephant seriously at all. Any more, I suppose that people in Jerusalem, a decade after Jesus spoke these words about the destruction of the Temple, took seriously the signs that a great disaster was about to happen in Judea.
And are we any different with regards to the signs all around us?
Frank Ramirez is a native of Southern California and is the senior pastor of the Union Center Church of the Brethren near Nappanee, Indiana. Frank has served congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. He and his wife Jennie share three adult children, all married, and three grandchildren. He enjoys writing, reading, exercise, and theater.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 15, 2015, issue.
Copyright 2015 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Canary in a Coal Mine" by Frank Ramirez
Canary in a Coal Mine
by Frank Ramirez
"Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?" (Mark 13:4)
Many people have heard of the saying “A canary in a coal mine.” It refers to the practice of coal miners before there was sophisticated machinery to test the air, of carrying canaries in a cage down into the coal mine. If at any point the canary stopped singing and died it meant that the level of carbon monoxide was sneaking up and it was time to get out of there.
The poor canaries served as an early warning system, a sign that needed to be read and understood, that a potential disaster was on the way. Regardless of the morality of using canaries as guinea pigs -- pardon the mixed metaphor -- there was one occasion when an elephant, not a canary, actually served as an early warning system. Unfortunately most people could not read the signs and even if they could have, it’s unlikely anyone would have taken it all that seriously. Most everyone who died would probably have died anyway.
This example comes from the book Krakatoa, The Day The World Exploded: August 27, 1883.by Simon Winchester. The book is obviously about the famous eruption of the Indonesian volcano, which sent eleven cubic miles of powdered mountain into the air. It was heard over two thousand miles away. It caused a tsunami that killed over thirty-six thousand people and changed weather around for the world for a couple of years. Among the many stories great and small that Winchester tells, there’s a strange incident that should have had more significance in a chapter titled: “The Curious Case of the Terrified Elephant.”
Winchester writes about many signs that something momentous was about to happen. Black smoke rising from the deeps, rumblings from the fiery abyss, the rattling of windows and doors, and plates falling off shelves to shatter into tiny pieces. For over three months the volcano was busy giving signs that something momentous was going to happen.
Yet people tried to carry on as if nothing was happening. And so on July 30, 1887 John and Anna Wilson’s Great World Circlus sailed into town -- Batavia being the town as a matter of fact.
There performers of every kind, fire eaters, tightrope-walkers, gymnasts, beautiful women, Arabian horses, clowns a cannonball catcher-- over a hundred different acts.
There was a also a “very small circus elephant, a favorite with children, who juggled balls and performed other tricks.” It was, by all accounts, very gentle. However, halfway through the circus’ stay the elephant began to behave strangely. The elephant’s handler, Nanette Lochart, worried that perhaps some of the performers were teasing the poor creature, so she moved the elephant into her hotel room.Then she left for dinner.
The elephant responded by trampling the room, in Winchester’s words, “to smithereens.” Guests were certain the entire hotel was about to collapse. The owner of the hotel found Miss Lochart, then demanded that not only she and her elephant but everyone associated with the circus leave the hotel.
Which they did.
Some think that the elephant, like many animals, was sensitive to the changes in the earth, as if sensing that some disaster was about to happen. Left alone with the comfort of his mistress it went berserk. No one read the signs that the elephant felt clearly. Something very terrible was about to happen.
Something very terrible happened.
A day later the Krakatoa volcano blew up.
If the elephant was reading the signs correctly, no one was taking the sign of the elephant seriously at all. Any more, I suppose that people in Jerusalem, a decade after Jesus spoke these words about the destruction of the Temple, took seriously the signs that a great disaster was about to happen in Judea.
And are we any different with regards to the signs all around us?
Frank Ramirez is a native of Southern California and is the senior pastor of the Union Center Church of the Brethren near Nappanee, Indiana. Frank has served congregations in Los Angeles, California; Elkhart, Indiana; and Everett, Pennsylvania. He and his wife Jennie share three adult children, all married, and three grandchildren. He enjoys writing, reading, exercise, and theater.
*****************************************
StoryShare, November 15, 2015, issue.
Copyright 2015 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
