“Look at the ravens!” That was last Sunday’s Gospel challenge to reflection.
“Look at the birds! Look at the ravens!” ordered nonother than Jesus. “They neither sow nor reap; they have neither storehouse nor barn. And yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds.” No doubt, for those with eyes to see, most definitely something of God becomes visible in the natural world that’s borne of heaven’s doing and provisioned by the Lord’s grace.
Thus, Scripture spoke to us about ravens. Which is a very odd choice, because in the Bible’s estimation, ravens really aren’t the good guys. The pitch-black birds of prey represent filth; they scavenge on lifeless carcasses; they exist comfortably amid rot and decay. They’re also selfish and impulsive: Fidelity to a mate is not part of the raven’s lifestyle.
In the early chapters of the Old Testament is where ravens first enter the story of God with us. As the Great Flood nears its end, Noah from the deck of his ark sends forth a raven in search of dry land. But the wayward scout never returns. So, Noah assigns the same intrepid duty to a cherished dove, which is among the biblical symbols of the Holy Spirit.
From Genesis 8 I’m reading to you ancient words that are ever true. Trust that the Holy Spirit will help you listen, learn, and understand. Listen even if you don’t understand, as the floodwaters around Noah show hints of subsidence.
God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and livestock with him in the boat.
He sent a wind to blow across the earth, and the floodwaters began to recede. The underground waters stopped flowing, and the torrential rains from the sky were stopped. So the floodwaters gradually receded from the earth.
After 150 days, exactly five months from the time the flood began, the boat came to rest on the mountains of Ararat. Two and a half months later, as the waters continued to go down, other mountain peaks became visible. After another forty days, Noah opened the window he had made in the boat and released a raven. The bird flew back and forth until the floodwaters on the earth had dried up.
Noah also released a dove to see if the water had receded and it could find dry ground. But the dove could find no place to land, because the water still covered the ground. So, it returned to the ark, and Noah held out his hand and drew the dove back inside.
After waiting another seven days, Noah released the dove again. This time the dove returned to him in the evening with a fresh olive leaf in its beak. Then Noah knew that the floodwaters were almost gone. He waited another seven days and then released the dove again. This time it did not come back. (Genesis 8:1-12 NLT)
Symbolism from this scene oozes thick and rich.
Unlike the filthy raven, the untainted dove represents purity and fidelity. Unlike its scavenging cousins, doves abide amid life and all things green and growing. Unlike the unreliable blackbird, the dependable dove is a divine harbinger of peace and good news.
When the dove first returns to Noah, when her feet cannot find one single, solitary square inch of dry land, Noah gets the message that everyone’s time of freedom from the confines of the Ark and the terror of the Flood has not yet come. On her second attempt, the dove returns bearing an olive branch – proof positive that long-waterlogged ground finally is making space for life to blossom and flourish. The dove flies back with a foretaste of the Lord’s message to Noah that it’ll soon be safe to re-enter the land; the dove flashes a sign that a new stage of life is at hand.
Like the Holy Spirit, that lone dove bears a divine message of hope, loyalty, wisdom, and resilience. Her timing is ever perfect; she’s at once independent and connected. She knows the direction in which to fly, and how far to fly, and when to return, and what gifts to bear. She’s in touch with the people for whom she cares as well as aware of her own need for selfcare. As with the Holy Spirit, the dove has a sense of adventure that stretches far beyond the realm of familiar comfort. And, as the Holy Spirit empowers, the dove knows when it’s time for her to depart and move on.
The back-and-forth dove of Genesis 8 leaves for a third time and never returns. She hasn’t abandoned Noah and his flock but instead has done her duty of delivering a holy message of security: It’s finally safe, Noah! And a sacred message of encouragement: Now’s the time to re-enter the world, Noah, and to find safe haven with the Lord in his restored Creation, and to dwell in closer spiritual intimacy with God and God’s people.
Returning to the Old Testament, hear in the Song of Solomon the same protection and inspiration to go forth and prosper:
My lover said to me, “Rise up, my darling! Come away with me, my fair one!
“Look, the winter is past, and the rains are over and gone. The flowers are springing up, the season of singing birds has come, and the cooing of turtledoves fills the air. The fig trees are forming young fruit, and the fragrant grapevines are blossoming. Rise up, my darling! Come away with me, my fair one!”
My dove is hiding behind the rocks, behind an outcrop on the cliff. Let me see your face; let me hear your voice. For your voice is pleasant, and your face is lovely. (Song of Solomon 2:10-14 NLT)
That passionate snippet assures that God is already here.
You cannot see God, but thanks to the Spirit you sense the Lord’s constant invitation spread upon the rolls of Scripture: “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me.”
“Come with me” – Christ beside you, Christ before you, Christ behind you – doesn’t demand mere following the rules, toeing the line, or aimlessly moving in a basically similar direction with the Lord. “Come with me,” Christ beside, before, and behind – discipleship – also sparks an unconditionally loving relationship in which you and I simply cannot resist drawing nearer to our Lover – the One whom we love, because Father, Son, and Spirit loved us first.
Remember the question that Jesus asks his recently fallen disciple, the apostle Peter? “Do you love me more than these?” (John 21:15)
Let’s hope so, because now’s the time to make a move. Because it’s spring. Not on the daily calendar but on our spiritual calendar. Thanks to Christ’s Easter, it’s always spring for his disciples. It’s always time for new life, for fresh flowering, for renewed fruitfulness. Draw closer to the Lover of your soul, and you will experience renewal. Maybe even, dare I say, resurrection!
That’s a lot to put on a small bird, whether it’s the cooing turtledoves of springtime or Noah’s dove soaring high over the waters of chaos to scope out dry tracts of safe space.
But the Spirit like those fabled doves indeed moves freely in our midst, undefiled and perfectly clean, bearing no mixture of deceit or malice, never spewing lies or falsehoods, only bearing truth and imploring us to love one another, forgive one another, reconcile with one another, and care for one another.
The timing is right! To riff on an old rock ballad, the time of the season when love runs high like a rain-swollen creek. It is the time of the season for loving: The time of the season for loving Christ more. Hear the perfection of that invitation when dawn breaks fresh with new mercies and a dove’s murmur breaks the day’s stillness with Good News: “In life and in death, you belong to God.”
So, in gratitude to God for such amazing grace, and empowered by the Spirit, please strive to serve Christ in your daily tasks. As the Church confesses: “Live holy and joyful lives, even as you watch for God’s new heaven and new earth, praying, ‘Come, Lord Jesus!’” That just is the Holy Spirit!
That just is the Holy Spirit! Bestowed in baptism, benefactor for life; free-flowing refreshment, streams of living water – even in the heat of moment. The Spirit of Water cools overheated passions before the human spirit builds up a full head of steam.
That just is the Holy Spirit! Purifying the human tongue with fire, burning off the chaff that chokes the heart, helping communicate honestly and effectively with those who do not speak your language. The Spirit’s tongue flickers with the gentle nuances of God’s grace both extended and received, fueling not overinflated egos but rather heaven’s burning desires.
The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God!
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on Sunday, June 23, 2024, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Rod Argent, Stan Mast, and Angela Nevitt Meyer inform the message, which is part of Pastor Grant’s current sermon series on the symbols of the Holy Spirit. Additional messages in the series are available at FirstPresWaukon.com/sermons/.