A sparrow, a swallow and a Jack Russell

‘Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young – a place near your altar, O Lord Almighty, my King and my God.’ Psalm 84:3 This verse comes from one of my favourite Psalms, and is also one of my favourite verses. Why? Because it reminds us of the welcome of grace. Sparrows and swallows are, in my experience, both messy and noisy, especially when they are nesting, and it is hugely surprising to me to discover that not only were they allowed in the Jerusalem temple, they were actually welcomed there! The point is this: if God has a welcome for sparrows and swallows, surely he has a welcome for us with all our own messiness and chatter. Rather than be a barrier to keep us away from God, the altar is meant to be a bridge bringing us near to him. We are able to feel at home with God even though we are far from perfect because sin has been dealt with and we are now free to approach a holy God. Grace bids us welcome. Which brings me to the Jack Russell and my recent visit to the Sisters of Bethany, a community of nuns in Portsmouth. I was leading a week long retreat for them, and on the final day we were gathering in the chapel for the second service of prayer for the day (Terce). Most of the nuns were already assembled, and already in a deeply contemplative silence. I myself was just settling down and finding my place in the various prayer books before we began. It was a deeply solemn moment, in a sacred place. However, just at this point into this holy atmosphere came a slightly podgy Jack Russell that clearly had a lot of attitude. He passed to take in his new surroundings, eyeing everything and everyone curiously. It was a surreal moment because there had been no canine presence in the convent before, and I felt sure he was not expected. Having found his bearings, he began to walk confidently towards the altar, at which point I inwardly panicked. ‘Oh no,’ I thought to myself, ‘he’s going to mark out his territory, and he’s going to start with the altar!’ By this time his presence had somehow communicated itself to the Sisters. One by one their eyes opened, their faces revealing surprise at first, and then (thankfully) amusement. Fortunately an Unseen Hand guided Jack away from the altar and he became content to sniff around the prayer stalls and explore his new ecclesiastical environment. Everyone began to laugh now at the incongruity of what was happening, but being the Strong Natural Leader that I am, I felt someone needed to take charge of the situation, so I got up and with the help of one or two others gently encouraged our canine friend to explore some other parts of the house. My talk that morning was about the ‘rhythms of grace’: the balance between giving out and taking in, working and resting, doing and being, and so on. But as I pondered what had happened, I couldn’t help but smile at the humour of God, and added another rhythm – the balance between being serious and having fun, between solemnity and lightness of heart. It seemed as if God was speaking to us that morning through the appearance of the little Jack Russell, about the welcome of grace, yes, but also reminding us that sometimes laughter can be as holy as silence. Life – and Christian ministry - can all get very serious sometimes can’t it, and we need to be relaxed enough to smile and laugh. After all, God has a sense of humour and his presence can be found as much in the comic as in the serious.