Advent 2024: Waiting with Birds

(Photo courtesy of (c) Turner Matthews, Decatur, Alabama, USA)

Advent Day 10, December 10, 2024

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.  Philippians 4:8

Some two thousand years ago, in a political and religious environment not unlike our own, the missionary Paul wrote these words to a beloved community of new Christ-believers in Philippi. The Romans still occupied most of the world Paul knew, and they continued to view Christianity as a threat.  Paganism was a popular and safe form of devotion. Threats and danger against those who were different were very much a reality. So in the midst of concerns and chaos, Paul reminded his followers to pay attention, to focus on what is true, noble (do we even know what that word means anymore?) right, pure, and admirable.  And, I would add, beautiful.

Paul’s advice makes good sense.  Why cast our pearls before swine?  Why give energy and attention to things, or people, that are false, base, wrong, diluted, deplorable, or arrogant?  How will such attention nurture and sustain us or lead us to unity? Or to Love?

In this time of waiting for what is to come, for the light to shine, for unity to become a reality, I thought about Paul’s advice as I sat at my kitchen table and noticed three bluebirds dribbling water at the birdbath on my deck.  Maybe that doesn’t sound very earth-shattering to you, but I never see bluebirds during the spring, summer, or fall. The past two years, though, they’ve arrived in December, and then only for a brief stay. So I pay attention to them.

I appreciate birds, especially the birds that show up only on occasion, those birds I have to wait for, which also include cedar waxwings.  Like the bluebirds, these black-masked, golden winged birds only come around in winter. I spend every December in anticipation of my first glimpses of them before they flit away to grace someone else’s window.

(Photo credit Rosemary McMahan)

It’s the little things, we say. Yet the little things often become the greatest things.

Taking Paul’s advice to heart, I watch the birds, tiny feathered gifts of grace. Somehow the birds anchor me to the present moment where I discover beauty and gratitude. Fear and concern recede like waves on the shoreline.

As we wait together, I invite you to seek out those things that Paul suggests, and turn away from their opposites.  You might find your heart take flight.

Blessings ~ Rosemary

Cedar Waxwings on Christmas Morning

A waxwing lights on the bough
outside my window this cold December
morning, and I remember the gift
received years ago while we sat
among rainbowed wrappings
and brilliant bows
department store bounty scattered at our feet:
a flock of robins and waxwings
numerous as snowflakes
darkening that same window
like shadow.
Four faces pressed to glass,
we watched the birds descend,
lighting on the naked maple tree,
red breasts and black eye-stripes,
yellow tail tips and muted gray wings
fluttering
filling the tree with living ornaments.
In the air their morning melody
pealed as sacred as Silent Night
giving benediction before they arose
and took flight, leaving an empty tree
and spirits graced by wonder.

(c) Rosemary McMahan