Working from home occasionally gives me time to watch the birds at my feeder: sweet chickadees, upside-down nuthatches, tufted titmice, tiny goldfinches yellowing up by the day.
But it’s the woodpeckers that humble me. Whatever the species—hairy, downy, or huge and resplendent red-bellied—they all approach my tube feeder in precisely the same way: as if it were a tree.
[Jesus taught them, saying,] “Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t sow seed or harvest grain or gather crops into barns. Yet your heavenly Parent feeds them.” – Matthew 6:26 (CEB)
The feeder is not a tree, of course, but trees are what woodpeckers know, and pecking for insects is what they do. And so they stare at the plastic tube encased in metal mesh, as if pecking in the right place will yield yummy grubs or ants. When it does not, they protest. Loudly.
At the base of the feeder, meanwhile, a feast awaits them: peanuts, raisins, dried cherries, almonds, pistachios, and more!
We are accustomed to finding meaning and purpose in doing, in busyness, in work. Take away those daily measures of worth, and we’re less sure of who we are and what difference it makes. Take away the structure of a “to do” list, and we can feel lost.
Then add the magnitude of suffering and death happening every day. We feel scared. We get angry. It is all too real, and it must motivate us to remake the world.
Meanwhile, the flowers of the field still grow. The birds of the air still eat. And the feast of divine love and grace that carries us through our days never runs out.
Prayer ~ Holy Feeder, thank you for taking care of us. Even now. Still now. Always.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Vicki Kemper is the Pastor of First Congregational, UCC, in Amherst, Massachusetts, and a spiritual director.