Monday, December 9, 2024

Love, the Bird

 

People, Look East - verse #3

Advent 2 / Year C

We continue our Advent reflections by looking at the verse we sang at this morning’s wreath lighting from the hymn People, Look East:

Birds, though you long have ceased to build,

  guard the nest that must be filled.

Even the hour when wings are frozen

  God for fledging time has chosen.

People, look east and sing today:

  Love, the bird, is on the way.

Its message is addressed to birds, but meant for us and there is a lot here to unpack if we are to get close to understanding its meaning and the hope it proclaims. 

Did you know there are over 10,000 specious of birds?  And did you realize 96 million Americans observed, fed, and/or photographed a bird the past year alone?  One of this Christmas’s hottest gifts is a birdfeeder with a doorbell camera mounted inside.  An app on your phone alerts you whenever a bird (or squirrel) appears to eat.  Because many birds are regulars, some folks even have taken to giving them names.  Jesus saw birds as being instructive and he told several parables which featured them… “Consider the birds of the air…”, he said.  So, birds are both a popular and biblical subject to ponder.

Birds, though you long have ceased to build,

  guard the nest that must be filled.

There are four basic tasks for birds to complete when building a nest.  The first is site selection and it is for birds all about what realtors say it should be for us: “Location!  Location!  Location!  While bird species choose different locations and styles for their nests, each is located and designed to create shelter from the elements and maximum protection from predators. 

The second phase involves the gathering of building materials.  Birds utilize twigs, grass, mud and other items chosen for specific attributes.  The closer at hand these basic resources, the easier and safer it is for a bird to collect them.

Next comes construction and this is where the real craftsmanship begins.  Birds weave, pack, smooth, and shape what they have assembled to form a strong, impressive structure.  Again, sizes, shapes, and locations vary, but each nest is a testament to ingenuity and skill.

The final stage involves “feathering the nest” with such materials as feathers, moss, and animal fir to make the interior warm and comfortable.  It helps the structure to be a suitable place to lay eggs, incubate them, and raise as hatchlings.    

Even the hour when wings are frozen

  God for fledging time has chosen.

Eventually birds must shift their attention from construction to reproduction.  The hymn has this process unfolding during the winter season, which is when a few birds such as the great-horned owl and bald eagles lay eggs.  However, most begin a family during the warmer months and seasons.  I take the line “the hour when wings are frozen” to be an allusion to the time of year the Christ child is born… in the bleak midwinter.

Not only is the verse set in winter, it comes after eggs have hatched, but fledglings are not yet able to leave the nest.  Their every need, from food to warmth to security, must be provided by their mother and/or father.  Their very survival depends on it.  To be sure, it is an awesome and weighty responsibility for the parents.  All the work which goes into building the nest is for not if the brood does not reach a point where its members can take flight.

What does all of this say to us?  Like the birds, we too are driven to create, to secure, to produce something of use, all the while giving birth to a new generation and caring for it intensely.  This work gives our lives meaning.  In many ways it defines who we are.  It can be incredibly satisfying while at the same time feel overwhelming.  It will push us to and beyond our limits.  It will force us to acknowledge our own limitations.  And it will reveal to us something more than what we add to this thing called life is at work in and through us.

People, look east and sing today:

  Love, the bird, is on the way.

What is at work in all we do is a love from beyond.  We do not have to look to the literal east to see it, but we do have to look.  Our awareness of the Holy most often is fleeting and defies words.  And yet we sense God’s love enveloping us and transforming our nest building and child rearing into something more than we can do on our own. 

Love, the bird reminds us how God’s love and life became incarnate as one of us.  We live as people of hope trusting this Love will be manifest in us through all we say and do; that our life’s work is more than an instinctual response to ancient patterns now manifested only through some chemical process directed by genetic material.  Our faith holds all we do is mysteriously and gloriously connected to the Creator of heaven and earth.  The season of Advent reminds us of the necessity to look ‘East’ – to God –while we are engaged in all the work we are given to do. 

Along with hope, it calls us to humility because, as a young sceptic might put it, “You are not all that.”  Yes, we work hard.  Yes, we seek to put forward our best effort.  But even with all of this… all we can do… we sense it is not enough.  Something more must be added; what Jesus referred to as adding yeast to the flour of our lives.  In this stanza of People, look East, we name yeast as “Love, the bird.”  It reminds us God’s power and presence is at work in our world and infuses something marvelous into everything we do.