Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Get Your Story Straight



I’m a story kind of gal.  I understand life best through stories.  Donald Grey Barnhouse reportedly said, “All of life illustrates bible doctrine.”  I have always taken that to mean that everything I experience in life can be put into story form to illustrate something about scripture.  The flaw in this reasoning is that my story will always be colored by my understanding, or lack, of the reality of what scripture actually says.

For a good part of my life, I read bible stories and most other stories, with a moral point of view.  I was either the hero or antihero.  The story illustrated the kind of person I should or should not be but, either way, it was all about me.  Then, when the gospel found me, I suddenly saw that I had been reading those stories all wrong.  The gospel taught me that Jesus is the hero of every story.  Even the best of human beings can be only a dim light pointing to the brilliant light of Christ.  The only parts that were about me were the anti-hero parts, and their purpose was not primarily to show me how to be a better person, but to open my eyes to the kind of person I really am and, thus, to my need of a savior.

We have a recliner that sits right in front of the picture window in our living room, but we seldom sit in it, preferring the sofa or the loveseat.  The other day, however, I plopped down in the chair and looked out, and there, right at eye level, was a cardinal sitting in a nest, looking back at me.  It was a relatively small bird, and, because it was hot outside, its beak was open.  “Oh, it’s a baby,” I thought, “and it’s probably waiting for the parents to come feed it. 

I was sad that I had missed the entire chapter where the egg or eggs hatched and where the babies cheeped incessantly and the poor parents had to make endless trips to meet the demands for food.  I was glad, though, that I would at least get to witness the last few days of this little one’s time in the nest.  It definitely looked ready to leave at any time. I did see a male cardinal zoom past a few times, but never witnessed the bird being fed. 

Then, a day or so later, I peeked out the window and saw that the nest was empty.  I don’t know a lot about birds, except their habits at my bird feeding station, but my husband, who knows a bit more than I do, informed me that once birds leave the nest, they do not return, so I resigned myself to the fact that the baby was gone.  However, later that day, the baby was back in the nest.  My husband was surprised, but not too worried.  I, on the other hand, immediately assumed that something was wrong.  The baby just sat there, with it’s mouth open, waiting, and as far as I could tell, no parents were coming to feed it. 

By then I had done some reading on birds leaving the nest, and I now knew this was highly unusual.  I began checking throughout the day.  Sometimes the bird was gone, and my hopes would go up, but it always quickly returned.  I confess that I sometimes stood near the window and talked to the bird, who couldn’t really hear me, but always looked right at me as I spoke.  “What are you doing,” I asked.  “Are you okay?  You really need to learn to feed yourself now.  It’s pretty clear that your parents are finished raising you.  You won’t last long if you keep coming back here and sitting in the nest all day.”

You can easily see how my advice to the bird and my penchant for stories that illustrate bible doctrine was lending itself perfectly to the moral storyline: "God has given us everything necessary to succeed in the Christian life, but we can’t expect him to baby us forever.  There comes a time when we each must  learn to fly and take responsibility for our own spiritual lives.  We need to stop returning to our little nests and go out into the world sharing what we have learned." Right?

But, remember the flaw, that my story will always be colored by my understanding, or lack, of reality? 

After several anxious days, I had a sudden shift in my understanding.  “Wait a minute,” I said to the bird, “What if you’re not a baby who won’t leave the nest?  What if you’re actually a small mother bird sitting on your eggs?”  The cardinal stared back at me.

It has been about a week now.  The small mother bird sits vigilantly in her nest, leaving only briefly to get food.  Yesterday, she and the male cardinal valiantly chased off a flock of birds who dared to land in the tree.  She is protecting those eggs with her life.  The baby birds inside those eggs are contributing nothing to their growth and safety.  Their nurture and care is total.  And, even after they hatch, their every need will be met.  The babies will still be utterly dependent. 

I was reading the story wrong.  It wasn’t about me and my responsibility, or you and yours.  As always, it was about God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—who incubates us, protects us, nurtures us and nourishes us.  It is about our utter helplessness and vulnerability, and how our needs are abundantly met through his provision, not our own. 

How precious is your

Steadfast love, O God!

The children of mankind

Take refuge in the shadow

Of your wings.

They feast on the

Abundance of your house,

And you given them drink

From the river of your delights.

Psalm 36:7-8




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