Birds of a Feather

Note: I’m posting early this week as we will be out of town on Tuesday.

“Birds of a feather flock together” is an old saying with a long provenance. As a species we seem to have a deep need to seek out those people who are similar to us and to be comfortable in their presence, while excluding those who are different. I imagine that back in the stone age there was a great deal of safety in sticking with your own tribe, and probably a lot of danger to those who did not.

But we no longer live in the stone age. We are surrounded by a great variety of people and they all offer great gifts to our communities and to our world. Even at my church, which is in a predominantly affluent suburb of eastern Louisville there is diversity. Not everyone thinks alike, or votes alike, or likes the same things. We are people of different ages, ethnicities, education levels, and we all come together to worship the God we love. And it’s all good.  

There was not much diversity in 5th century Britain. The Celtic tribes probably had a common origin, and their culture was similar across the island of Britain. They spoke a language that was similar enough to each other’s that they could readily understand each other.

Then the Romans introduced a completely new culture, and a new kind of people. It is impossible to know how much intermarriage there was between the Romans and the Britons, but you know there was some, perhaps even a lot. One genetic study showed that about one million British males can trace their inheritance back to the Roman legionnaires.

But that was only the beginning, of course. After the Romans came the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, and after them came the Danes, and the Scandinavians, and after them came the Normans. And immigration and intermarriage continue up to the present time. And it’s all good.  

One year when I was teaching a first-grade science class a lesson on biomes. We were going through the various classifications that would be within the experience or comprehension of a first grader living in south Florida. We easily selected beaches, mangroves, and grasslands. Some students offered other biomes that they knew about, mountains, and deserts, for example. Then one dear little boy, who was a delight to teach for all his ten years at that school offered up “Choir” as a suggestion. I was baffled, but I knew that it hadn’t just jumped into his mind from nowhere.

“That’s an interesting suggestion,” I said. “Can you tell me what animals live in a choir?”

His answer was instantaneous.

“All God’s creatures have a place in the choir” he chirped.  

He was, of course, repeating a line from a song he was learning in music classes.

“All God’s creatures have a place in the choir

Some sing low, and some sing higher

Some sing out loud on the telephone wire

And some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they’ve got now”

I have never forgotten that incident. There is a powerful truth in that simple, fun little song. The truth is not only that all of God’s people, no matter their race, color, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, income, or education level have a place in God’s choir, but they also have a voice that contributes to the harmony. God has created this great diversity of people to sing a gorgeous song together.  And it’s all good.