Matthew 10:29-31
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
This is my dad's favorite bible verse.
I have never been a relaxed person. I don't go with the flow and take it day-by-day. I have serious doubts about my future that lead to my depression. A lot of things add up to my ultimate despair: the increasing cost of homes, the job market, and other mundane things.
My dad would always quote this passage.
Sparrows
I keep returning to the economics of it. Two sparrows for a penny. The cheapest unit of exchange in the Roman marketplace. The kind of thing you buy without thought, without care, without looking the seller in the eye. Disposable. Interchangeable. The sparrow doesn't have a name. The sparrow is biomass with wings, sold by weight, forgotten by dinner.
And Jesus says: "Not one of them will fall to the ground outside of your Father's care."
There is a radical claim here about value. The market says the sparrow is worth half a penny. The Father says the sparrow is worth his attention. Not his general, abstract, benevolent attention--the kind we imagine when we say "God loves everyone." But his specific attention. His particular attention. The sparrow does not fall without the father knowing. The sparrow's death is not waste. The sparrow's existence is not disposable.
The sparrow does nothing. It doesn't plan. It doesn't strive. It doesn't wake wondering how rent will be paid or which door to open or which path will lead home. It simply wakes, and eats, and flies.
And God keeps it from falling.
Tselem Elohim, Imago Dei, God's Image
But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.
That if God keeps sparrows from falling even though they are worth less, who are we to think that we--the ones created in His image--will not be given a way?
Tselem Elohim. We are the image of the divine. The breath of the creator moves in our lungs. The imprint of the eternal is pressed into our skin. We were not made to merely fly from branch to branch, gathering what falls. We were made to reflect glory.
And if God watches over the sparrow, which is of so little value, how much more will He care for you, who are worth far more than many sparrows?
We are always standing at a crossroads. Two paths, maybe three, and we don't and can't know which one leads forward and which one leads to regret. We are terrified of choosing wrong. Of looking back five years from now and realizing we should have turned left instead of right.
But tselem elohim does not go unnoticed. The image of God does not slip through cracks. We bear the likeness of the one who numbers the stars, who holds the oceans in His palm--and He holds us tighter.
The sparrow doesn't sow. The sparrow doesn't reap. And yet Our Heavenly Father feeds it.
We are worth more than many sparrows.
So fly. Even here. Even now. Even when we don't know which way is forward. The air will hold you. The way will open.
So don't be afraid.