It’s called the Turdus migratorius.
We know it better as the American Robin, a ubiquitous bird in this part of Creation, and oh so recognizable too, with its deep brick red chest, and its dark gray plumage, and its propensity for pulling up chubby worms out of the soil as we watch in fascination. Many of us mark the return of spring when we see our first robin, though the truth is that some robins actually winter here, and not just down south. But still, when we spy that new robin, on a chilly spring day, there is something so hopeful about that sighting.
Spring can’t be far behind. Hope. Natural hope. Nature’s hope.
I’ve been feeling a desperate need for hope these past days and weeks. It feels as if the temperature has been turned up to “HIGH” in our world, that in so many places, everything and everyone is red hot. Tempers are hot and anger is hot, and politics are hot, and violence is hot, and conflict is hot, and war is hot. Folks stand on opposing sides of metal barricades and scream at one another, attack with cutting words or worse, raised fists. Folks stand in the halls of Congress and with fiery rhetoric tear to pieces those they deem as “the enemy,” leaving no room for compromise or bi-partisanship or simple governance. Soldiers trample over civilians, the innocent, children, widows, bystanders, and wage war with seemingly no thought of collateral damage. The ones injured and maimed and killed. Tens of thousands. Parents. Children. The elderly. The ill.
Using terror to fight terrorism. Terrible.
Back to my robin. Yesterday I discovered that this familiar winged creature had built a nest just inside a green and bushy shrub right by my front door. For days I could not understand why every time I came home and walked up the front steps, a red and black blur of a bird flew by me, and landed on a branch not far away, seeming to eye me with suspicion. My research tells me it is mom tending to the egg. These bright blue eggs should hatch within two weeks, and then within another 14 days, the young will leave that nest.
But I hope they will stay awhile. I hope my presence does not disturb them.
I watch it all with fascination, and a bit of awe too. To see up close such a wondrous process, such a natural gift from the Creator of all things. Robins carrying on, as they have for thousands of years, being born and basking in summer sun and finding a mate and making more robins. Robins who are the first birds to sing at dawn, their sing-songy warble, pretty and light.
Robins who do not know of human stupidity or human bloodlust or human hubris or human sin. That’s a good thing. Robins who survive in spite of us. More than 370 million robins live in North America alone, making this species one of the most common birds on the earth.
But not so common. Not to me. Not to those of us who need to be reminded the world is a big and resilient and ancient place, and that perhaps, with God’s grace, the world will carry on too, in spite of its more brutish inhabitants, especially the species that goes by the title homo sapien. “Homo” meaning human and “sapien” that comes from the Latin word meaning “wise.” Not so sure about that second designation. Not when it comes to the unwise and yes cruel ways we home sapiens have been acting lately. Towards Creation. Towards each other.
Yet this grace-full family of robins, gives me and my anxious spirit, something else to witness and enjoy, even while some days it can feel like the world is ablaze in a conflagration of so much pain and suffering. For now I think I’ll just wait for new life to show up and yes, right by my front door.
Thank you, robins. Thank you, nature. Thank you, God.
The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.
No comments:
Post a Comment