Sometimes I feel like I could immerse myself in the Bible and never come up for air. It is such a huge and complex book that it's hard for me to see how people find it boring. The more I dive in, the more I find even the monotonous parts, like the lists of names and the sacrificial laws, interesting and rich.

 

I am in Leviticus right now. I taught a class that included Leviticus a few months ago, and it is still revealing itself. After reading today about the day that Moses ordained Aaron, I am curious as to what the whole thing would have looked like. It must have seemed strange, solemn and mysterious to Aaron and his sons. I sometimes think that things like the Tabernacle reproduction in Lancaster don't do the whole thing justice. It would be great to use the place as an exploratory tool to see how some things would have been experienced.

 

So the other day we came home and there was a flock of robins in our yard. I've never seen a flock of robins. Robins are these loners that hang out in couples, one or two couples at the time at the most.

 

Anyway, we drove in and from any point in our driveway you can see about half the yard. From one point we counted over 50 robins. 50! That was without checking around the corner or trying to look around the big tree.

 

They must have been migrating together or something. That annual traditional rhythm that imposes variety on their lives. May my hardwired rhthyms impose new things and new people on my regularly kind of reclusive world, both for my sake and for God's kingdom.

So, the other day we come home and there is a flock of robins in our yard. I had never seen a flock of robins. In my experience they are kind of detached. You see one or two at the time, maybe a couple of couples at the most.

 

So we drive in and we can see about half our yard from any given point in our driveway, and from there we count over 50 robins, without trying to look around the corner or past the big tree. 50 robins in one place ... strange.

 

I guess they must have been migrating together, that important annual ritual that so many birds do. Their migration causes their lives to have rhythm and even in the "tradition" they have a kind of imposed variety.

 

May my own internal rhythm bring variety to my life. May it bring people that I am less likely to meet, because I'm usually kind of a recluse. May it do significant things in my world for me and for God.