I've been a little sad lately because of my little sparrows. Things have been tough for them this summer. I haven't seen as many this year as in previous years, and I've had lots of time to observe them due to the coronavirus lockdown. My wife and I usually are up before the sun, and we sit out on our screened porch to read our bibles before she heads off to work. Except for our water feature, it is almost deafeningly quiet. The truth is, we don't hear the sparrows like we have in the past. We've had an unusually hot, but humid July without any appreciable rainfall. Things are crispy outside. Trees are dropping leaves, and my wife's beautiful annuals are wilting despite being watered. It makes me wonder if the sparrows have moved somewhere where it is better suited to them, or if they are dying off? All I know is that I don't hear their usual chatter in the morning, and I don't see them on the wires outside my yard. While I'm saddened, by the silence, it doesn't affect me personally. I could become dramatic and make it tragic, but that would be a lie. Am I affected by a lack of sparrows this year? Does it matter enough to me for me to go out and make it a national issue? Am I going to cry myself to sleep at night because thousands of sparrows are dying off due to an unusually hot summer? Do I care? I know that God does. The scripture that this blog is based upon is Matthew 10: 29-31. Jesus was trying to make the disciples understand how much God cared for them, and He pulled His example from the sparrows which were in abundance. There is one truth in the scripture that gets overlooked, and that is that the sparrows fall to the ground. God doesn't rescue the poor sparrow, but knows when it falls to the ground. The course of life is death, and every day thousands of people will pass this vale in utter anonymity, without notice, and without fanfare. One of the things that the coronavirus has done to me, is to cause me to be ambivalent about the sorrow all around me. Mostly because it doesn't affect me. This entire year has been a set of circumstances that don't affect me personally in any great way, but the effects are felt by me, and I'm sure billions of others.
The course of nature often appears cruel, and heartless. You can try to frame it in your human terms, or you can just accept the fact that life isn't always easy. There is a virus out there that is sniping away at people my age and older. It is cruel and indiscriminate, but it is an act of nature. I don't believe that God is using this virus to pass judgement on mankind. I don't believe Satan created this virus. What makes this virus unique is how WE are handling it. We haven't handled it well. Maybe it is because it is something that kills the weakest among us, and we don't have the means to do anything about it. For all our scientific prowess, our understanding of genetics, and our ability to create medicines, we seem helpless in the face of this faceless killer. More than anything, I believe people are truly afraid. Will they be the one that is struck down? To make it more personal, will I be struck down? Will my fetching bride of 46 years be struck down? Will my parents who are in their middle eighties be struck down? The raging fear of the unknown has revealed our true hopeless nature. That is why I say we haven't handled this virus well. If you want to prove it, just look at the WORLD'S reaction to mask wearing. It is amazing to me that we are focused on a little piece of cloth to protect us from this virus, and how each of us view it. The mask isn't an immunity from the virus, it is to protect others from us if WE have it. I don't know how many times I've heard someone say; "I don't know how they got it, they were wearing a mask."
That is where a trust in God comes in. I don't believe in immunity from life's tragedies just because of my faith in God. I don't believe I have a ledger that I can point to and convince God of my worth. A matter of fact, the opposite is true. He tells me in that lovely passage in Matthew, that I am worth more than a flock of sparrows, and that He knows when I am going to pass this vale. I came to the knowledge that I am on a sure path to death many years ago. The moment I was born, I was dying. BUT, I am more than this shell I walk in. This physical body is only a vessel, a tent, a garment, that I put on to walk this vale. David Bragg is somewhere beyond the eyes that peer out at this life with wonder and awe. The coronavirus can't take that away. I am going to die, case closed. This year my body began to betray me in ways that I haven't experienced before. I've abused it for most of my adult life, and now it is telling me that it is time to pay the piper. If I should succumb to the virus, it is well with me. This world hasn't been my home for over 55 years, and another few years won't make it any more so. I have a home prepared for me.
For all of those of you who are living in fear, I hurt for you. I am in deep sorrow because you don't know the peace that passes understanding. I can't make you believe in Christ Jesus, and many people will die of this virus without coming to a saving knowledge of Jesus. That breaks my heart, and I'm sure it breaks God's heart. You see, He does know the sparrows that fall to the ground, and He does know those who have died, and will die due to coronavirus. They are worth everything to Him. Still, they will fall.
