NESTED

My son-in-law was helping trim up a fir tree when he came upon an abandoned bird nest. How small, how meticulously put together with twigs and mud. What a builder, probably a swallow (known as a restless bird, always flitting about) or a sparrow (symbolizing utter loneliness in Psalm 102:7). Both birds (common to us!) also flew in and out of the Bible's tabernacle and the temple

Even the sparrow has found a home, 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)

Remembering this verse, I thought of how this home, where I've lived for nearly 42 years, became the “nest” for two little ones who grew up to be responsible, loving adults. Especially through their dad's final illness, and my new journey without him, I have appreciated their love and support.

But that little nest said more to me. Though no longer needed in my yard's fir tree, it was a “history” of where the bird parents raised their family, teaching those hungry hatchlings over and over, over and over. Showed them how to fly, find food, and make their own way in the world. Released them from the nest. How much a picture of human parenting! (Well, I didn't teach my kids to fly but driver's ed was equally scary!)

Swedish hymn-writer Carolina Sandell Berg noted these things in lyrics for her tender, enduring hymn:

Children of the heavenly Father safely in His bosom gather

Nestling bird nor star in heaven such a refuge e'er was given.

One phrase in Psalm 84:3 always makes me pause: “a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty.” Both the ancient tabernacle and temple, given their size and construction, couldn't keep out the birds. Thus many nested in places they deemed safe. Probably their chosen “safe place” was atop a wall or in a niche—not on a hot altar where sacrifices were burned. But who's to say the birds didn't fly down at night to inspect things—even altars--when all was calm and the ashes cool?

And could that also be a picture of human home life at night? When my son and daughter were younger, we tucked them into bed with stories and prayer. Yes, the “family altar” of seeking God. How touching to hear them pray for their own needs, other family members and their friends. Under-girding their prayers: the trust in the Lord Almighty, their King, their God. Now they do the same with their children.

“Nested” near HIS altar. Our King and our God. There's no better place to be.

SONGSTERS

I hear them before I see them, the quail chirping “Rebecca” as they walk across the narrow wooden fence about four feet away from my office window. Sometimes it’s a Mama Quail with four or five half-grown quail following. “Rebecca, rebecca,” she warns as they teeter. Polite and skittish, their parade makes me smile. Then there are noisy birds, and to encounter them I only need to walk a block and a half to a home where someone has gone all out with bird houses and yard art. It doesn’t photograph well because of the shade, but trust me: I tried counting and gave up at over fifty birdhouses and feeders. In one yard! And the noise! Its nesting tenants are the more vociferous of winged critters.

In summertime, especially, I think of the relationship with nature enjoyed some eight hundred years ago by a simple man we know as St. Francis of Assisi.  He wrote the lyrics to “All Creatures of Our God in King” sometime in the 1200s (yes, 800 years ago) and it was first published in a hymnal in 1623 (yes, nearly 400 years ago). Yet it continues to place high on lists of the world’s most beloved hymns.

Francis was born to a wealthy Italian family in 1182, converting to Christianity at a young age. He served as a soldier in his early years and endured a year as a prisoner of war in central Italy. After a time of personal turmoil, he renounced his earlier life of ease to become an itinerant evangelist to peasants throughout the Mediterranean lands. At 28, he founded the Franciscan Order of Friars, known for adopting his religious beliefs and simple lifestyle that kept him near nature. This was memorialized in a painting by the Italian artist Giotto, showing Francis feeding birds. Francis is said to have written sixty hymns of praise and worship in his desire to encourage church music.

There are many legends associated with his life, including supernatural behavior of animals. In one legend, one day while on a hike he came across a flock of birds.  When they didn’t fly away, he decided to preach them a little sermon about praising their Creator for His protection and provision. Sermon over, they flew away happily. How true this is, we don’t know, but we do have Psalm 148, which tells all creation—the heavenly bodies, the weather, the landscapes, and all living things, to praise the Lord. We now know that scientists have catalogued 5,400 species of singing animals. Francis is also credited with setting up the first Christmas live nativity scene.

The year before he died, Francis was very ill and his vision was failing. It was at this time that he wrote the lyrics to “All Creatures of our God and King,” based on Psalm 148. At his deathbed he requested that Psalm 142 be read to him.  It includes this verse: “When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who knows my way.”

Our paraphrased English version of this hymn came out about 120 years ago through the efforts of a village rector in England, who prepared it for a children’s choir festival. It was forgotten for a time, then reappeared in an English hymnal in 1906 as a canon arrangement.  

As we continue through the challenges and discouragements of the pandemic, it’s always good to shift gears and sing praises to God.  St. Francis’s hymn would be a good start. Then consider two others about nature:  “All Things Bright and Beautiful” (1848, by the wife of an Anglican bishop in Ireland) and “For the Beauty of the Earth” (1864, by an English scholar).

Even better—get out and take a walk, best in early morning when the birds sing their hearts out.  And just listen.
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Sing along with this "You Tube" presentation with lyrics, featuring pipe organ and congregational singing at the large Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, California:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdfTekZcgGM

Hang-ups and Hanging-Ups

When the weather turns warmer, I choose my clothesline over the dryer.  This saves electricity, plus “hanging time” is also “thinking time.” That day, as I snapped clothespins onto towels and shirts, the word “hang-ups” came to mind with its double meaning for laundry and troubled minds. Before I could think too much about troubled people I care about, I was distracted by the brilliant chorus of various birds in nearby trees. I thought of the old song, “His eye is on the sparrow,” affirming God’s incomprehensible watch-care. He cares even more than I can imagine for the loved ones whose problems can easily discourage me.

The song enjoyed renewed fame when actress-singer Ethel Walters, who rose from poverty to entertainment fame, used its title for her 1951 autobiography. But the song was originally written in 1905 by a New York pastor’s wife named Civilla Martin. The Martins had become friends with the Doolittles, an older couple who’d long battled illnesses. Mrs. Doolittle had been bedridden for twenty years, and her husband used a wheelchair to get to work. Yet the couple was known for bringing inspiration and cheer to those around them. On one visit with the Doolittles, Pastor Martin asked the secret of their hope. Mrs. Doolittle, alluding to Jesus’ illustration about God’s omniscience via care of bird life, remarked simply, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”

Her simple yet profound reply gripped the Martins. Civilla went home and wrote the lyrics, and the next day mailed them to prolific hymnist Charles Gabriel, who wrote the tune. (See last week's blog for Gabriel's story.)

The song refers to these verses:

“Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31)

 

Civilla expressed the same theme in a song she wrote a year earlier: “God Will Take Care of You.” But the simple words of “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” are what came to me that laundry morning as I hung up socks and shirts. Why should I feel discouraged? Why should the shadows come...When Jesus is my portion, My constant friend is He: His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”

 

When I snapped the clothespin on the last sock, I went back in the house to other chores.  Inside, I couldn’t hear the birds sing anymore. But my heart replayed the much-needed reminder they provided that day--that nothing, even what I pray about with feeble faith, is outside the loving watch-care of God.