Look at the birds in the sky. They don’t sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet our God in heaven feeds them. Aren’t you more important than they? ~ Matthew 6:26
You’ve heard me say it before, bird-watching might better be called bird-listening. Hearing is often the first sense engaged in locating and identifying a bird. Hearing is also what I might call a simpler sense than sight. We tend to be more passive about hearing, taking everything in and only paying attention to sounds that alert us to something: an alarm, a crash, a cry, etc. We are good at tuning out sounds that don’t matter. This happens all too often to me even when I’m trying to identify birds. When lots of song is happening at once, focus is required, so naturally I engage my brain in discerning the odd or unique sound out of the mix of the common. All the data goes in, but only some gets processed. This sort of discernment, this focus, is more the default mode with sight. In part, this is simply how we have evolved, our field of vision is limited, we have to turn our heads to see things in our peripheral vision. Hearing is 360 degrees all the time, even when we have our eyes closed or when we are sleeping.
Hearing is also more likely to bring together than separate. Birds use sound during flight as a way of keeping the travelers together. If you have ever heard a nest full of begging birds, you will also know that they are persistent in their vocalizing, calling for the adult to bring food. Consider how something with a beat feels in your body, it makes you want to move. Human societies have used rhythm throughout history to synchronize movement, whether marching or work, but especially in the joyous motions of dancing. And consider the emotions that music evokes. We tend to have more language for visual items than we do for sounds because we are more analytical about sight and more emotional about sound. That is why I consider listening as an act of simplicity.
There is a reason we say “peace and quiet” not “peace and darkness.” Most of what we think of as noise is the result of humans trying to be more than human: amplified sound, machines doing work too powerful for a person, vehicles moving us faster than we can on foot, even taking us into the sky. When those sounds are absent, the world is not silent. No, creation is always producing a symphony that we too often drown out. Jesus encourages us to behold the birds and look at the wildflowers, perhaps knowing that asking us to be still and listen was too big of an ask for us noisy beings. Or perhaps he knew that when we look with intent we will focus not one, but all, of our senses. When we do that we will be overwhelmed by the sustaining presence of God. Then we can be carefree in the care of the Creator.
Prayer: Breathe on me Breath of God, go ahead and whisper, I am tuned in. Amen.
