Of Birds, Baguettes, And Being A Creature
On a lakeshore in the French Alps, the old city of Annecy rises to meet the castle that crowns the hill. At the water’s edge, shops and restaurants trade in the same buildings that were used by medieval merchants. Our children were small when our family visited, but the memories are still clear in my mind. I remember the woman beside the water with a baguette, feeding the birds. I remember how fascinated the children were at how she could get the birds to come and eat bread right out of her hands. Then, when she noticed them noticing her, she generously gave the rest of her baguette to our family so that we could try it, too. Sure enough, a few bits of baguette was all it took to attract flocks of sparrows who flew around our heads, landed on our fingers and ate right out of our outstretched hands. Then again, who wouldn’t accept an invitation to share in a proper French baguette? As they came, we wondered at their tiny bodies, and we laughed at the feeling of their feet on our fingers. I suppose all animals will be this friendly and unafraid in the new creation. That will be glorious.
The birds entrusted themselves to us because they believed we would help them, and we did. They were marvellous creatures, and I still marvel at the memory of that moment. As I think of it, I’m also reminded that I, too, am a creature. I may not fly, but I have the gift of life, I eat, and I prefer French baguettes, just like the birds. My life is no more self-sufficient than theirs. I, too, am dependent on realities outside of myself to sustain the life I have. And—best of all—I, too, have Someone much bigger, much greater, whose hands I can come to, rest in, and receive my daily needs from.
Being a creature is risky. We have to admit that we are vulnerable. Our lives are fragile. From our first breath to our last, everything we have is received. What good would it do to pretend otherwise? What benefit could we gain from trying so hard to prove our total independence? I’d rather be like the birds in Annecy, freely coming to rest and receive from the hands that provide for them. Yes, I am a creature, with all the limits inherent. That’s ok. It’s good to be a creature when you have a Creator like ours.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? … So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”
– Matthew 6:25-27, 31-33
