Of Rabbits and Rocks in Psalm 104

Although I haven't brought this up for quite a while, I'm always intrigued  by all things "Nature" in the Psalms. If you click on the "Nature Notes from the Psalms" label you will see what I mean.  From eagles to ravens, from oxen to deer, from snowflakes to hoarfrost to seas and stars, I  pounce on every little bit reference to flora, fauna, weather, geography and astronomny with delight.

This morning as I did the Office of Readings, for the upmteenth time, verse 18 of Psalm 104 got stuck in my craw. Goats in the lofty mountains? Fine. But rabbits finding refuge in the rocks?

Not any rabbits I know. Here in the USA, rabbits hide in tall grass, low shrubbery, and windfalls in fields and on the edges of forests. I'm sure that occasionally a rock with a jutting ledge or depression beneath it comes in handy, but certainly rocks are not the habitual, er, habitat of rabbits here. British and Eurpoean rabbits are the ones that dig holes in the ground, creating colonies known as warrens. So I don't think rocks play a big part for them, either.

Other bible translations have used the word "conies" in this verse, a multi-purpose English word that can mean rabbit but also other large rodents such as marmots and pikas. (Pikas are the cutest little things. Look them up sometime.) But it seems that the rock-loving creature in this psalm is probably the Syrian Yellow-spotted Rock Hyrax. The Hebrew word in the psalm transliterates as Shaphan. Here's a picture of some young ones in their rocky habitat:

source: wikimedia commons

Hyraxes measure between 12 and 28 inches long, and weigh anywhere from 5 to 11 pounds. Although they look like rodents, scientists who classify animals believe they have more in common with elephants and manatees.

I'm afraid there's not much in this post to help people grow in holiness or in their understanding of the Liturgy of the Hours. But if, like me, you delight in the beauty and diversity of God's creation, then maybe I've made your day. And maybe the sight of these little creatures, obviously secure under that sheltering rock, will help us reflect on the Lord as our rock, refuge, fortress, and hiding place in times of distress. 

Joyous Stars

picture credit: maf6355.blogspot.com

Today's first reading from the Office of Readings contains one of those little gems of  nature imagery that thrills any  reader who loves poetry:

He...before whom the stars at their posts

 shine and rejoice;

When He calls them,

they answer, "Here we are!"

shining with joy for their Maker. 

This verse puts me in mind of two things. First, C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia.  In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader it is revealed that the stars of Narnia are rational beings, who after their long lives in the heavens may  come to live down on earth. 

Second, I think of medieval theology,  which explains that the movement of the stars and the planets is supervised by the angels: that God delegates  some of his ongoing work in holding all creation together to his mightiest servants. One can read these words and picture the angels, joyful in doing the work God has given them, shouting out their nightly greetings to their Creator.

Third, every created thing, rational or non-rational, animate or inanimate, truly does offer praise to its creator simply by doing that which it was created to do.  So this scripture verse reminds me of how blessed are the stars, how happy they would be if they were rational, because they do fulfill  God's will perfectly. In this we might well envy them.

Now I'm looking forward to the next starry night when I can bundle up and gaze, with this verse in mind. But it might be a long wait given the next week's forecast. All of you on the east coast will be vastly relieved next time the stars are visible at their posts. Those of us in safer locations will be praying for you.

The Youth of Eagles

Psalm 103 comprises the psalter for today's (Wednesday, week IV) Office of Readings.In verse 5, after listing some of God's blessings--forgives guilt, heals your ills, redeems you, crowns you with love and compassion, fills your life with good things--the psalmist adds, renewing your youth like an eagle's.


Fear not--my comments will not make mention of a certain contemporary hymn that would set off Fr. Erik Richsteig 's Orthometer alarm.


Every time I read this line, I first give the little happy sigh with which I respond to beautiful  biblical nature imagery, a mini Hallmark poster of the image flashing in my brain.

Then I stop and say, Wait!...  what?

 Because I can't figure out what's so special about an eagle's youth.
Not his strength, power, beauty, far sight, but his youth.

My first guess--could it be there was a phoenix-type myth going on about eagles that the psalmist had picked up on?

I did a search and found that many people share my question. An interesting "biblical birdwatching" site gave a lengthy description of how many times a bald eagle molts until he acheives the mature, white-head-and-tail plumage at 5 years of age. The evangelical writer considered this molting a kind of renewal. Not bad, but 1. this would teach a lesson about the desirability of Maturity, the wisdom of old age, not about youth. and 2. the bald eagle is a North American bird.

Luckily, I remembered that the Fathers of the Church have commented at length on just about every verse of scripture. Good old New Advent has St. Augustine's comments. Augustine claims that an eagle's beak tip never stops growing, and that after many years have gone by, it curves down and around the lower mandible such that the eagle would be unable to eat.  He grows weak from hunger, and then, in desperation, bashes the end of his beak off against a rock. Once again able to eat, his strength, vigor, and plummage are renewed, and he is once more like a young eagle. Augustine concludes:

 ...the eagle is not restored unto immortality, but we are unto eternal life; but the similitude is derived from hence, that the rock takes away from us what hinders us. Presume not therefore on your strength: the firmness of the rock rubs off your old age: for that Rock was Christ. 1 Corinthians 10:4 In Christ our youth shall be restored like that of the eagle....

My own knowledge of birds tell me that eagles don't really need to break off their beaks. I have seen crows and pet parrots rub their beaks against hard material.  And I've known pet parakeets to need a beak trim when they haven't had something hard to chew on. Probably eagles wear their beaks down by tearing at the bones of their prey.   But as St. Thomas points out, an analogy does not have to be true to be a good analogy.

So it looks like Christ, our rock, rubs off or breaks off our weary, aged sinfulness, and restores to us the youth of our baptismal purity. Enabling us to soar to heaven. On eagles wings  the wings of eagles.

Clothed in Light and Playing with Monsters

Today's psalter for the Office of Readings gives us Psalm 104, a biggie broken down into three sections. This is one of those glorious psalms of  creation, perfect for a beautiful autumn day such as it is here (at the moment, rain could come anytime) in NW Pennsylvania.

For one thing, it gives the lie to those who claim that people of ancient, agrarian societies were so very, very different in their understanding and outlook on things than us enlightened, modern types, so bent on mere survival and valuing nature mainly as an aid to that survival. Because here is one of those ancient people seemingly on a nature walk, noticing and rejoicing in both the useful-to-man stuff --You make grass grow for cattle, and plants to serve man's needs...wine to cheer man's heart, oil to make him glad and bread to strengthen man's heart--but also plenty of random stuff that is of little utilitarian benefit. He's just happy that these things exist because they are beautiful, startling, amazing:

You make springs gush forth in the valleys: they flow in between the hills.
They give drink to all the beasts of the field; 
the wild asses quench their thirst.
On the banks dwell the birds of heaven;'from the branches they sing their song...
...there the birds build their nests:
on the tree-top the stork has her home.
The goats find a home on the mountains and rabbits hide in the rocks.
You made the moon to mark the months;'the sun knows its time for setting...
...the young lions roar for their prey
and ask their food from God...
...There is the sea, vast and wide,
with its moving swarms past counting...
the ships are moving there
and the monsters you made to play with.


A note on the image of God playing with monsters. Every other translation I have checked does NOT suggest the image of God playing with the monsters (Leviathan, or, more interestingly, "Sea dragon" in the Douay). They all say that God created the monster/leviathan/sea dragon  to play there, "there" being the sea.  So, much as it is a neat image, one can't be sure  that the psalmist was really intending to convey that God goes swimming with monsters that way we might go swimming with dolphins.

But it is fun to think about it.

Nature Notes from the Psalms: Ravens





picture source: Wikipedia



There's one thing I love about the psalms is the lovely nature imagery and in particular, the mentions of animals. I haven't blogged much about this before, but today's Morning Prayer (which I didn't crack open until noon, unfortunately) includes Psalm 147. Speaking of God's providence towards all of creation,it includes this verse:

He provides the beasts with their food,

and young ravens that call upon him.

Why ravens? Why does the psalmist mention ravens in particular? They are hardly well-loved birds, being carrion pickers, and of somewhat ominous  appearance. Why not mention doves, eagles, swallows, or something else of more attractive reputation and appearance?

Perhaps  the psalmist himself might not have been consciously trying to tell us anything deeply symbolic with his bird choice. Likely he had been observing, with enjoyment,  a nearby nest of ravens. (Ravens typically nest on rock ledges, although treetops and rooftops are also chosen.)  So he picks ravens as his example in this psalm.

I'm even more intrigued that the verse says the ravens "call upon him", that is, God.  In what sense does an irrational animal do that?  I'm sure I don't know.

But back to the choice of ravens. Maybe the psalmist was just a birdwatcher, remarking on his recent siting of a raven's nest. But did God, who inspired him, have any particular reason for the raven to be the examplar of creation relying on providence?

My thorough research of amateur biblical commentators  turned up this thoughtful post from Grevillea, a Christian bird watcher writing on Wiki answers.

 "Ravens symbolize that even what appears to be base, commonplace or repulsive can be holy.
Despite their seemingly unsavory habits ("The eye that mocketh at his father...the ravens...shall pick it out" Proverbs 30:17), and despite the fact that ravens are unclean food for Israelites according to the dietary prohibitions of Leviticus, ravens are fundamentally part of God's plan and therefore good ("every winged bird according to its kind...was good" Genesis 1:21). God's grace(Coffee&Canticles' note: I'd change the word grace to providence to avoid theological confusion, although I doubt the author was thinking of grace in a salvific sense here) extends to ravens, and God "giveth...food...to the young ravens which cry" (Psalm 147:9). In fact, ravens are used by some of the heroes in the Bible--the raven is the first bird sent out by Noah to check if the flood has receded (Genesis), and God commands ravens to feed Elijah in the wilderness (1 Kings 17:4-6). "

 Grevillea's main idea (the commonplace or repulsive can be holy), might help us out with the "call upon him" problem. Ravens don't consciously call upon God, but we commonplace and (thanks to sin) repulsive creatures certainly can. In total trust and confidence.

And I will add that the Order of Helpful Ravens continued their tradition of helping God's saints beyond Noah and Elijah. There are legends of several of the Desert Fathers being fed by ravens at their hermit caves. Better still, a raven famously came to the aid of St. Benedict of Nursia. Benedicts efforts to reform lax monasteries were not always met with joy by the lax monks. In fact, several of these plotted to poison Benedict's bread. A raven flew down and snatched the bread away before Benedict  could eat it, and has been rewarded by appearing at the side of the saint in icons and on the St. Benedict medal.

And let this suffice for ravens.

After the Woe - take comfort and take up arms

My previous post talked about applying the sad psalms of today's Morning Prayer and Office of Readings to a devastating contemporary situaion. Now for a more hopeful conclusion.

You'll notice that there is never a time when all 3 psalms of either Morning or Evening Prayer are strictly of the mourning/complaining/despairing type. There is always a call to rejoice and be glad despite all the suffering. So this morning we have, after the distress of Ps. 143, the comfort of a canticle from Isaiah, where God promises to care for us like a nursing mother cares for her baby. And then, Ps. 147, where we are called to rejoice in  the beauty of creation, and to praise God for that despite whatever else is going on around us.

(Just as an aside--I love nature psalms!  I love imagining this Israelite from thousands of years ago enjoying the same sorts of things that I do. Here he has noticed a nest of hungry young ravens calling for food. Details like this help connect me to these spiritual forefathers.)

Okay,  we've had some comfort after the prayer of woe.  But this evening, we must  pick ourselves up and get back into the battle that promises eventual and inevitable victory. Blessed be the Lord, my rock who trains my arms for battle, who prepares my hands for war. He is my love, my stronghold, my Savior, my place of refuge...(Psalm 144)   Hmmm...psalms 143 and 144.  Makes me think there might be a particular purpose to the ordering of the psalms in the Bible. As a matter  fact, there is. Emmaus Road publications has a book about just that. It's cutely titled Singing in the Reign.  I'll confess to not having read it yet. One of these days...

This battle training language is perfect for lent. That's what we're doing with all these pathetic little sacrifices that seem to loom so large. Will giving up chocolate today fit me to endure the criticism that comes when I'm forced to take an unpopular stand tomorrow? Will hauling myself out of bed for weekday mass prepare me for martyrdom? Hope I'm not forced to test that one out.  In the meantime, I'll just plod along

 This was not meant to be a long post. Just wanted to show you an example of how the day's psalmody all fits together. Now it's time to plan another meatless dinner. Will I do battle with black beans or lentils tonight?