Little Brown Birds

             Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7)

 

Sparrows. At this point, sparrows and pigeons. Flying pigs. I know some folks really like them, but they show up at my birdfeeder and scatter what they don’t like and gobble what they do, leaving nothing for the less frequent visitors: cardinals, blue jays, and even starlings. Right now, the pigeons seem to be held at bay by a couple of crows collecting corn crumbs that the sparrows rejected. It’s not just that they weigh about an ounce, bones and all – so it would take at least four to provide one meal for one person. It’s not just that the amount of work involved in separating the meat from the refuse is more than the meat is worth. It’s also that because of their numbers and their appearance. I know there are different kinds, but for most of us, a sparrow is a little brown bird, and ninety to one hundred percent of the sparrows I see are house sparrows. Pigeons are larger, and people have eaten them, but I suspect those who visit me belong to someone.

            Given a choice, I’d rather not have sparrows come to my birdfeeder. I don’t put out food to bring them, but I’d love to see owls, hawks, and eagles in my yard. That’s not realistic, but cardinals, blue jays, towhees, buntings, waxwings, and woodcocks with their funny “walk like an Egyptian” walk… Just about anything but sparrows would have me reaching for my camera. Yes, I know – I am prejudiced against sparrows and pigeons, but I keep putting food out for them. I still mourned when Grace killed one.

            It’s not hard to think of people the way we think about sparrows and pigeons. Originally both were from Europe and were brought here by Europeans. Invasive species that they are, they thrive – sometimes at the expense of native species. They are probably more perfectly analogous to humans for us than they were to the Jews.

            And yet not one of those sparrows is forgotten by God. Not one of us invasive, messy, argumentative (have you heard house sparrows squabble?) flying pigs is forgotten. Jesus says that the very fine, boring brown and gray hairs on my head are numbered. Then He says something amusing – and possibly amazing. “Don’t be afraid.” Among the many things about sparrows that I haven’t mentioned is that they’re cowards. My desk is next to my front window, about ten feet from the birdfeeder and about 20 feet from the road. If a car goes down the road or someone walks on the sidewalk, they fly in fear. If I stand up inside the house, they fly away in fear. I don’t know about the car or the person on the sidewalk, but I’m the one who feeds them. In fact, even taking food out to them frightens them away.

            And like them, I tend to be afraid to trust the One who feeds and cares for me. As long as the thing I want is there and He doesn’t move, I’m content to benefit from His largess, but let Him move, and off I fly, even though part of me knows it’s safe. Forgive me, Lord.