In Psalm 104, creation’s beauty is described with the following effusive words of praise:
“O Lord, what a variety of things you have made! In wisdom you have made them all. The earth is full of your creatures. Here is the ocean, vast and wide, teeming with life of every kind, both large and small.”
The Bible makes constant reference to the splendor of creation and the Lord’s role in its magnificence, and regularly utilizes animals to emphasize this teaching. Interestingly, although sheep, donkeys, oxen, lions, dragons, and even a mysterious sea beast called a leviathan appear in the Bible, birds are given unusual status as a model of good Christian behavior.
Indeed, the Book of Job instructs believers that birds can teach, and the prophet Isaiah argues that those who have faith in the Lord “will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Given these writings and these creature’s unique status, the following questions present themselves: What can we learn from birds? What can they teach us? A place to begin may be what makes birds different from the various other creatures that appear in the Bible. To this, I submit that the answer is in their ability to sing and dance in ways mimicking the praise that Scripture demands humans offer to our creator.
On this point, observe the elaborate mating dances of sandhill cranes and grouse, the elegant plumage found in peacocks and birds-of-paradise, and the beautiful singing of nightingales, cardinals, and mockingbirds. Although the communal nature and celebrations of birds are likely to be instructive, their singing is of particular importance. After all, although the Bible maintains that the patriarch Jubal created musical instruments, the Jewish and Christian traditions maintain that the voice and music itself are gifts of God. For this reason, the natural ability birds possess for music in general and vocal song in particular should inform how Catholics think about theology.
Specifically, the natural ease, rhythm, and vitality of birdsong can serve as a powerful inspiration. In fact, the innate sense of joy that birds feel is reflected in many aspects of the Church’s ideal approach to evangelism. To wit, the creation of beautiful portraiture, choral music, churches, tabernacles, and other devices that aid worship are all seen as co-extensive of robust Christian faith. Many converts are first drawn to Catholicism by music, stained-glass windows, and liturgical solemnity rather than, say, the writings of Sts. Thomas Aquinas, Jerome, or Robert Bellarmine.
In the Church’s supernatural mission, this is a feature rather than a bug. Just as St. Paul greeted the Greeks with poetry and philosophy (as recorded in the Book of Acts), so too does the Church today seek to instruct and entertain through dramatic form in order to evangelize. The influences of these practices are still seen in the secular world as well, in mediums such as theatre, opera, and ballet.
For example, to evangelize to those who were illiterate, the Church created traveling plays to reenact famous scenes of the Bible. The “players’’ would often wear vibrant costumes and masks decorated with bird feathers, playing music as an accompaniment. Various aspects of these performances served as a resurrection of Greek theater traditions from the Roman Empire—practices the Church syncretized for their own purposes.
Nativity plays were also popular, and involved transporting and using animals for their performances. The presence of animals and music in these travelling shows led indirectly to the creation of the modern circus, and parade floats like those used during Mardi Gras celebrations—particularly the Bacchus float—also tie back to the ancient tradition of revelry.
Birds were integral to many of these scenes of jubilation, and they have also helped to inspire great works of art like John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale,” Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven,” and Emily Dickinson’s “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers.”
It comes as no surprise to me that birds were such a rich source of inspiration for artists, musicians, writers, and actors, especially when one reflects on the Psalmist’s observation that “the birds of the sky nest beside the streams and sing among the branches of the trees.”
If birds are of the skies, it may be the case that their songs, dance, and joy may help our faith take wing.
Alexander Walton is an honors graduate of Morehouse College, where he earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in Philosophy. He is currently a Master of Arts candidate at Yale Divinity School and the Yale Institute of Sacred Music.
