Commentary - Deuteronomy 22:6-7

Bird's-eye view

In this brief and seemingly incidental command, tucked away in a section of various civil laws, we find a profound principle with far reaching implications. Moses instructs the people of Israel concerning what to do when they encounter a bird's nest. The law is straightforward: you may take the young or the eggs for yourself, but you must let the mother go free. This is not some sentimental environmentalism, though it certainly has implications for how we interact with God's creation. Rather, this is a law that teaches Israel about mercy, about the preservation of life, about the future, and ultimately, it points us to the character of God Himself. The Lord is not just concerned with grand covenants and national destinies; His eye is on the sparrow, and He embeds principles of kindness and foresight into the very fabric of His people's daily lives. This law, like the prohibition against boiling a kid in its mother's milk, is designed to cultivate a particular kind of heart in the people of God, a heart that reflects the mercy of their heavenly Father.

The promise attached to this command is striking: "that it may be well with you and that you may prolong your days." This is the same promise attached to the fifth commandment, to honor one's father and mother. This connection is not accidental. Both commands deal with the source of life. By honoring parents, we honor the human source of our lives. By letting the mother bird go, the Israelites were respecting the source of future life in that species. God is teaching His people to be a people of life, a people who do not greedily consume both the present and the future. They are to be a people who receive God's provision with gratitude, but also with prudence and mercy, ensuring that the source of that provision is not needlessly destroyed. In this simple agrarian law, we see a picture of gospel logic: God provides, but we are to steward His provision with an eye toward future fruitfulness and with a heart of mercy that mirrors His own.

Outline

Context In Deuteronomy

Deuteronomy 22 contains a series of laws that govern the civil and social life of Israel. These are not arbitrary rules, but rather applications of the great commandments to love God and neighbor. The chapter begins with laws about returning lost property, moves to prohibitions against mixing kinds (clothing, seeds, animals), and includes regulations concerning sexual purity and marriage. The law about the bird's nest is situated among these various statutes that are designed to create a holy, just, and compassionate society.

The immediate context is a collection of laws that reflect a deep respect for God's created order. Just before this, we have the law about helping a fallen donkey or ox (22:4). Just after, we have the law requiring a parapet on a new house to protect life (22:8). These laws, taken together, show that God's covenantal requirements touch every area of life, from agriculture to architecture to our interactions with the animal kingdom. This is not a compartmentalized faith. The God who commands purity in marriage is the same God who commands mercy to a mother bird. It is all of a piece, flowing from His character as the Creator and Redeemer.

Key Issues

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 6 “If you happen to come upon a bird’s nest along the way, in any tree or on the ground, with young ones or eggs, and the mother sitting on the young or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young;

The law begins with a common, everyday scenario. This is not a regulation for the priests in the temple, but for the ordinary Israelite walking "along the way." This is casuistry, or case law, where a general principle is taught through a specific example. The principle is much broader than just birds' nests. The circumstance is one of opportunity. Here is a source of food, readily available. The nest might contain either "young ones or eggs," and the mother is present, performing her natural, God-given duty of protecting and warming them. She is vulnerable. It would be easy to take her along with the nest.

But the command is firm: "you shall not take the mother with the young." This is a prohibition against a particular kind of greed, a rapaciousness that wipes out a whole family at once. To take the mother with the young is to destroy both the present generation and the immediate potential for a future one. It is an act of utter consumption, leaving no room for tomorrow. This law, like the law against muzzling an ox while it treads the grain, or boiling a young goat in its mother's milk, is designed to cultivate restraint and mercy. God is teaching His people that not everything that can be done should be done. Power and opportunity must be tempered by mercy. This is a direct reflection of God's own character. He could consume us all in His wrath, but He shows mercy. His people are to do likewise, even in their dealings with the animal kingdom.

v. 7 you shall certainly let the mother go, but the young you may take for yourself, in order that it may be well with you and that you may prolong your days.

The command is stated positively here, with emphasis: "you shall certainly let the mother go." The Hebrew is emphatic. This is not optional. The mother bird represents the life-giving principle, the source. She is to be released so she can live and produce more young. This is a lesson in sustainable living, if you will, but rooted in theology, not modern environmentalism. The earth is the Lord's, and we are to use it in a way that honors Him and provides for the future.

Notice that the law is not against eating the birds. "The young you may take for yourself." God is a provider. He gives His people good things to enjoy. This is not an animal rights law in the modern sense. The creation is for man's use, but not for his abuse. The distinction is crucial. We are permitted to eat the young, but we are commanded to preserve the source of life. This strikes a balance between man's dominion over creation and his responsibility as a steward of it.

The promise attached is what truly elevates this law. "In order that it may be well with you and that you may prolong your days." As noted earlier, this is the language of the fifth commandment (Ex. 20:12; Deut. 5:16). Why is this promise, one of the weightiest in the Decalogue, attached to this seemingly minor rule? Because the principle is the same. Honoring the source of life, whether our human parents or the mother bird who brings forth new life, is a principle that leads to blessing and longevity. A society that despises its elders and a society that rapaciously consumes its natural resources are both societies that are cutting themselves off from the future. They are, in a very real sense, sawing off the branch they are sitting on. Godliness, which includes this kind of merciful foresight, is profitable for all things, having the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.

Application

So what are we to do with a law like this today? We are not under the Mosaic civil code, but the principles undergirding the law are timeless because they are rooted in the character of God. First, this law teaches us to show mercy. Our interactions with the world, including the animal world, should be marked by a kindness that reflects our Creator. We have been shown immeasurable mercy in Christ, and this should overflow into every area of our lives. A man who is cruel to animals is a man whose heart is not right with God, no matter how orthodox his stated theology might be.

Second, this is a lesson in stewardship. We are not to live as though we are the last generation. We should conduct our business, manage our resources, and plan our lives with an eye to the future, for our children and our children's children. This applies to everything from personal finances to environmental policy. A greedy, short-sighted, consumeristic mindset that devours everything in its path is a direct violation of the spirit of this law. We are to take what God provides for our needs, but we must do so with prudence and foresight, preserving the "mother bird" so that there will be provision for the future.

Finally, we must see the gospel here. The ultimate act of taking the "young" while letting the "parent" go is seen at the cross. God the Father let His Son, the young and tender shoot, be taken for us, so that we, the guilty, might be let go free. God did not spare His own Son. He gave Him up for us all. This law, in a distant but real way, contains a seed of this gospel logic. Mercy is costly. Letting the mother go costs the finder a meal. The mercy God showed us cost Him His only Son. Having received such a gift, how can we not extend mercy and practice wise stewardship in all our dealings, great and small?