NESTED

Years of putting off trimming the arborvitae had turned it into a monster hedge probably fifteen feet high. Our servant-hearted son came by to help his dad finish the arduous task. In doing so, they pulled out a small nest, carefully wound with twigs and plastic strips, well glued with mud. Sturdy, hidden, it had served its purpose as a bird's nursery.

“Even the sparrow has found a home,” wrote one of the temple musicians, “and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God” (Psalm 84:3). It's a beautiful set of words to inscribe on sacred art. It's also a beautiful reminder how God cares for even the humblest birds.

First: context. It's believed this psalm was written by one of the temple workers (“sons of Korah”) who had to be absent from his duties in Jerusalem for a while. While we acknowledge that God doesn't dwell in the structures we call now churches, for ancient Jews the temple was revered and respected. From the rituals for sacrifices to even the places where its janitors served (the “parbar” or western colonnades), everything was prescribed and honored.

Yet birds came and found homes. As they chirped and flittered about, carrying on bird life, they had protection and purpose. Notice: these were not powerful birds (like eagles) or beautiful ones (like peacocks). They were ordinary bird life. Sparrows symbolized something almost worthless. Bible-time boys who caught sparrows to sell worshipers for sacrifices could earn two farthings (the smallest, least valuable copper coin) for five birds. Swallows are known for always flitting about. Yet when it comes times to nest and hatch eggs, they settle down. What an image of finding our peace and purpose in God. Such was the observation of St. Augustine (A.D. 354-530) in his famed quote: “Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee.”

This whole psalm throbs with a yearning for authentic worship: “Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you” (84:4). But the psalm doesn't stay inside the temple:

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. (v. 6)

In those days, a trip wasn't as simple as filling the car with gas and hitting the highway. Travel was by cart, animal or sandaled feet. It was hard and hot. It took days and days. But the traveler to Jerusalem kept his eye on the goal: the temple, a divinely-planned, human-constructed worship center. A place to come apart and focus of God's holy character, divine plan and perfect purpose.

The psalm ends with this encouraging word:

The Lord bestows favor and honor; No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless. (v. 11)

This is not some paste-on-every-situation verse. It's a statement of the character of God. Even in pain and loss, we will eventually learn the “good thing” He could bring of it—if we strive to walk close with him, with “blamelessness.” It's the same principle as Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

We don't always have those blessings in our line of vision. Sometimes, like a little bird nest, they're tucked away behind layers of ordinary branches and needles. But if God could give perches and protection to birds, can He not also take care of me? Jesus affirmed that truth: “Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matt. 20:31). Even abandoned nests attest to that.