The Psalmist, detained at home, envied the little birds that built their nests under the eaves of the priests’ houses, and thought of the very sparrows that were allowed to pick up the crumbs in the temple courts. It reminds us of Samuel Rutherford when a prisoner in Aberdeen. He often looked back to his country church and manse near the shore of the Solway Firth, and sighed, "I am for the present thinking the sparrows and swallows that build their nests at Anwoth blessed birds." These men, as Spurgeon would say, "needed no clatter of bells" to bring them to church; they carried a bell in their own bosoms; holy appetite is a better call to worship than a full chime.
And the lesson is for the young people no less than for their parents. For the Psalmist adds that the nest of the swallow was for "her young." The swallow reared her young brood in the temple courts. And this is the duty and privilege of all Christian parents. The house of God may be a nest for their little ones. How beautiful to see parents and children coming Sabbath by Sabbath to the same family pew! In after-years will not these little ones find their way back to the same old nest? Yes, "train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old he will not depart from it." Or if, perchance, they are called upon to suffer, and are not able, like the Psalmist, to come to God’s house, the spirit will still be willing though the flesh be weak, and they will sit and sing like another great sufferer—
"A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there, Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because, O God, it pleaseth thee.
"Nought else have I to do, I sing the whole day long, And He whom most I love to please, Doth listen to my song. He caught and bound my wandering wing, But still He bends to hear me sing."
"The hypocrite’s hope shall perish, ... whose trust shall be a spider’s web."—Job viii. 13, 14.
What is hypocrisy? It is a bird of evil omen that builds its nest on the tree of religion. It is a kind of homage that vice pays to virtue. Were there no virtue there would be no need to simulate it. Every act of hypocrisy is a tacit acknowledgment of its greatness. O Virtue! how great thou art, when even the bad and the vile are constrained to do thee homage! No one becomes a hypocrite when he pretends to be different from what he is, but when he pretends to be _better_ than he is. In spite of himself he is paying a high tribute to thy greatness and goodness!