The Grammar of Mercy: Dominion and Long Life Text: Deuteronomy 22:6-7
Introduction: God's Peculiar Ordinances
When we come to the case laws of Deuteronomy, modern Christians are often tempted to do one of two things, both of them foolish. The first is to dismiss these laws as archaic and irrelevant curiosities, fit for an ancient, agrarian society but with no more bearing on our lives than the Hittite legal code. The second is to treat them with a kind of sentimental piety, turning them into little Hallmark cards about being nice. So, a law about not muzzling an ox becomes a generic encouragement to be kind to animals, and we all feel vaguely warm about it before moving on.
Both approaches miss the point entirely. God does not waste ink. These laws are not quaint suggestions; they are the application of eternal principles to specific circumstances. They are the grammar of righteousness, teaching us how to think God's thoughts after Him. They are given to a covenant people to teach them how to live as a covenant people, and the principles they embody are as relevant today as they were when Moses first spoke them on the plains of Moab.
The law before us today is a prime example. It is a peculiar little ordinance about a bird's nest. It seems, at first glance, to be a minor point. But tucked within it is a profound lesson about dominion, stewardship, the future, and the nature of God's blessing. And like so many of God's laws, it is a direct polemic against the pagan mindset. The world wants to worship creation, and in the name of that worship, it ultimately despises both God and man. God commands us to rule creation, and in the name of that rule, He teaches us to show mercy, to provide for the future, and to honor the patterns He has woven into the fabric of the world.
This is not a law about environmentalism as the world understands it. The pagan environmentalist worships the creature rather than the Creator and ends up sacrificing man on the altar of "Mother Earth." This law is about something far more robust. It is about godly dominion, which is the furthest thing from sentimentalism. It is about how a righteous man interacts with the world God has given him, and it attaches to this simple act of mercy a promise of cosmic significance: a good life and a long one.
The Text
"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; 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."
(Deuteronomy 22:6-7 LSB)
The Principle of Merciful Dominion (v. 6)
We begin with the prohibition itself:
"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;" (Deuteronomy 22:6)
Notice the context. This is not a command to seek out bird nests for conservation. It assumes a man is going about his business, "along the way," and "happens" upon a nest. And it is not a prohibition against eating birds or their eggs. The law explicitly permits taking the young. This is not about vegetarianism or animal rights. God gave man dominion over the birds of the air (Genesis 1:28). This law is not a revocation of that dominion, but rather an instruction on how to exercise it righteously.
The command is very specific: "you shall not take the mother with the young." Why? Because to do so is to wipe out the entire family line in one fell swoop. It is to consume not only the present, but the future. The mother bird is the source of future generations. To take her along with her current brood is an act of short-sighted, rapacious greed. It is to act like a strip miner, not a farmer. A farmer knows that he must save seed for the next planting. A good shepherd knows he must not slaughter all his breeding ewes. This law applies the same principle of sustainable, forward-looking stewardship to the wild game God provides.
This is a lesson in economics, taught with a bird's nest. God is teaching His people not to consume their capital. The mother is the capital; the eggs and young are the interest. You may live off the interest, but you must not destroy the capital. This principle stands in stark contrast to the economic mindset of our own day, which is built on debt and the consumption of the future. We tax our children before they are born. We spend what we do not have. We are a culture that takes the mother with the young.
Furthermore, there is a tenderness here that strikes at the heart of pagan brutality. The mother bird is taken in an act of self-giving love, protecting her young. To exploit that maternal instinct for a slightly larger meal is a form of cruelty that hardens the heart. God is concerned with the kind of people His law produces. A man who would snatch the mother from her chicks is a man who is learning to be callous. A man who would let her go is a man who is learning the grammar of mercy. This is related to the prohibitions against boiling a kid in its mother's milk (Ex. 23:19) or slaughtering a cow and its calf on the same day (Lev. 22:28). God is teaching us to recoil from certain kinds of brutality, not because the animals have "rights," but because we have responsibilities, and these actions deface the created order and harden our own souls.
The Permission and the Promise (v. 7)
The second part of the command gives the positive instruction and the glorious promise attached to it.
"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." (Deuteronomy 22:7)
First, the permission: "the young you may take for yourself." This is crucial. This law is not about creating a nature preserve. It is about godly use. Man is not a mere observer of creation; he is a sub-creator and a ruler. God provides for us from His creation, and it is right and good to receive His provision with thanksgiving. This strikes the proper balance that is so lost today. On one side, we have the rapacious materialist who sees creation as nothing more than raw material to be exploited. On the other, we have the pantheistic environmentalist who sees man as a cancer on the planet and wants to forbid all use. The Bible charts the true course: responsible, merciful, and fruitful dominion.
Now, look at the promise: "in order that it may be well with you and that you may prolong your days." This is the very same promise attached to the fifth commandment, to honor your father and mother (Ex. 20:12). This is not an accident. The two laws are deeply connected. The fifth commandment is about honoring the source of your own life and heritage. This law in Deuteronomy 22 is about honoring the source of life in the created order. Both are about honoring the principle of succession, of generation, of the future.
To honor your parents is to acknowledge that you are not self-created. You are part of a stream of life that came before you and will, Lord willing, continue after you. To let the mother bird go is to act in accordance with that same principle. It is to acknowledge that the world does not exist merely for your immediate gratification. It is to leave something for the future. A society that despises its parents and a society that consumes its capital are two sides of the same rebellious coin. Both are spitting on the future.
And so God promises a long life, a prolonged existence, to the one who honors this principle. This is not a magical formula, as though letting a bird go guarantees you will not die in a car crash tomorrow. This is a statement of covenantal cause and effect. A people who think this way, who act with this kind of foresight and mercy, who honor the principle of life and generation, are a people who will build a stable, enduring, and blessed civilization. A people who do not, who live for the moment, who consume everything in sight with no thought for the morrow, are a people who are sentencing themselves to an early grave. They will not prolong their days. Their civilization will collapse under the weight of its own short-sightedness.
Conclusion: The General Equity of the Nest
So what is the "general equity" of this law for us today? We are not required to build our houses with parapets on the roof, because we do not live on our roofs (Deut. 22:8). But the principle of taking reasonable precautions for the safety of our neighbor remains. In the same way, most of us will not happen upon a bird's nest on our way to the office. But the principle of this law is profoundly applicable.
The principle is this: we are to exercise our dominion in a way that preserves the fruitfulness of God's creation. We are to rule with an eye to the future. This applies to how we farm, how we fish, how we build, and how we do business. It is a fundamental rejection of a "get rich quick and get out" mentality. It is a command to build things that last, to steward resources in a way that allows them to replenish.
But the application is broader still. This is about preserving the "mother principles" of life. What are the institutions that ensure future generations? The family is chief among them. A culture that attacks the definition of marriage, that promotes sexual chaos, that encourages women to despise motherhood and men to abandon their responsibilities, is a culture that is taking the mother with the young. It is destroying the very nest of civilization. And God's promise works in reverse as well. It will not be well with such a people. They will not prolong their days.
The church is another life-giving mother. When we consume the church for our own felt needs, demanding that she entertain us and cater to our preferences, with no thought for the ancient faith we are called to preserve and pass on, we are taking the mother with the young. When we trade sound doctrine for fleeting relevance, we are eating the seed corn. It will not be well with us, and we will not prolong our days.
Ultimately, this law points us to Christ. He is the Lord of creation who upholds all things by the word of His power. And in His great act of redemption, He did not consume us in our weakness. He, the source of all life, gave Himself up for us. He let us go free, so that we might have life, and have it abundantly. He did this so that it might be well with us, and that we might prolong our days not just in a temporal land, but into eternity. He honored the principle of life by laying down His own, and in so doing, He secured a future for a people as numerous as the stars in the sky. To follow Him is to learn His ways, and His ways are the ways of life. Even in a matter as small as a bird's nest, He teaches us the grammar of a kingdom that will never end.