Charcoal Feathers


They are called Haibane—“charcoal feathers.” The name refers to the charcoal-grey coating of the small, non-functional wings they bear on their backs. These little wings, and the faintly-glowing halos above their heads, make the Haibane resemble cartoon angels.

Haibane are born by hatching from cocoons. On hatching they are not infants, can speak, and have knowledge of having already lived a life up to that point. Yet they have no recall of any details of that life, not even their names. Soon after birth the new Haibane’s wings erupt bloodily through the skin. Other Haibane tenderly nurse the newborn through the ordeal, give him or her a halo and a new name, and welcome the newcomer to their community.

The Haibane live as a small minority in a city whose inhabitants are mostly normal-looking people. The citizens tolerate these strange-looking neighbors, letting them fix up abandoned buildings on the outskirts for their living quarters, and giving them jobs to earn their keep. The Haibane barter their labor for their basic necessities. By tradition they never receive cash. Their clothing and other goods are all second-hand.

They’re hardly the “angels” they so oddly resemble. Haibane seem to have much the same range of interests, concerns, and character flaws as people in general. They wonder about their previous lives, annoy each other, get into arguments with other Haibane and their neighbors, and once in a while get into real trouble.

Occasionally a Haibane becomes “sin-bound.” This condition manifests itself in dark splotches that appear on the wing feathers. It stems from a need for forgiveness for some wrong. Trying to hide the problem, ignore it, or project a desperate façade of perfection and do-gooding won’t help The sin-bound can only be healed when they have acknowledged their need for forgiveness and have asked for it. Then their feathers are restored to their proper color.

For all their flaws and concerns, their second-hand living conditions, and their living among a majority who don’t really understand them, the Haibane don’t have such a bad life. They have the opportunity to earn what they need. They’re great believers in doing whatever they have to do well and making themselves useful. They know how to recognize the little beauties that are hidden in a mundane world. They have their supportive community. They’re usually rather nice people, whose dominant mood seems to be one of taking joy in life. As one of their normal neighbors puts it, “It’s like you don’t have a care in the world.”

In a sense they don’t. The city in which the Haibane live, and the beautiful valley that surrounds it, are surrounded in turn by a massive wall. Nobody knows what lies beyond the wall. For all practical purposes the city and its hinterland are the whole world to the inhabitants. Nobody ever goes beyond the wall, or even has any expectation of doing so.

Except for the Haibane. Each Haibane knows that someday—nobody can know when—he or she will be summoned to go over the wall, never to return. They call it “the day of flight.” Tradition says that on that day a Haibane’s wings will actually work. Because they are never able to witness another’s departure, they have never actually seen this happen. But they believe that it will. Though they grieve when friends, especially very young ones, “fly,” it is not a fate that a Haibane who is not sin-bound fears. They believe that in departing they receive a blessing, and will eventually meet again.

The above fantasy comes from an anime series called “Haibane Renmei”—“Charcoal Feathers Federation.” It’s not certain just what viewers are expected to take away from the series. Creator Yoshitoshi ABe has reportedly said that “Haibane Renmei” was meant to be interpreted by viewers in their own ways.

In that spirit, it is possible to point out that there are features of the Haibane and their lives that are strongly reminiscent of the Christian New Testament. Jesus speaks of his followers as being “born again.” This means that their previous lives have come to an end. Unlike the Haibane they can remember everything about life before the second birth. But there has been a definite break between the two. They live in a world that they do not truly belong to.

The new life is not a life of perfection. Jesus’ followers still have failings, flaws, and worries. They get other people mad at them, and get mad at others. They let others down and hurt them. They’re conscious at times of being burdened by their sins, and of standing in need of forgiveness. Sometimes they make the mistake of trying to save themselves by pretending to be perfect, never admitting that they need help. They don’t usually enjoy a lot of success in the world. In some parts of the world they receive treatment far worse than what the fictional Haibane face.

And yet…a life of following Jesus—not merely professing his name, but really following his lead and teachings, really taking seriously what he says about living a life that’s not like the previous life—can be a very joyful life. Like the Haibane, these followers understand that life between the new birth and the “day of flight” will only last a few short years and can end at any time. It’s no doubt part of why they can be content with having little opportunity to acquire the wealth of their world. Why worry about what they can’t hold onto anyway? If they can earn what they need to live on, and accomplish something useful for society at the same time, that’s enough.

Nor is there any reason to worry about the looming end of life, if that means going beyond this world and seeing at last what lies out there. Unlike the Haibane, real-life followers of Jesus don’t enjoy an easy, painless “day of flight.” The end of life will be as painful and ugly for them as it will be for anybody. But they know when they face the final ordeal, early in life or late, that they have something to look forward to afterward. The loved ones they have left behind know that they won’t be separated forever.

A couple of days ago I visited with a woman I know whose son is on the waiting list for a life-saving transplant. The week before, they had learned that a donor had been found. He had been rushed to the transplant center by helicopter, while the family dropped everything and followed by road. When they arrived they learned from the transplant surgeon that the harvested organs could not be used. The news was a painful disappointment for those of us keeping track of the situation. How much more so was it for the mother and her son?

She had just been on the phone in her office with her son at home. It was a rainy day, and the weather was giving his fragile body trouble. We talked for a bit about the situation. She said that they—she, her son, and the family—were ready for whatever outcome they ultimately faced, because God was with them in it. In the meantime they, and we in their community who stand with them, can share their hurts and share their joy. We all know what outcome we desire, especially in a life that young. But we know that either possible outcome contains a blessing. It’s a knowledge that brings us joy for as long as we live on this side of the wall.