“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.” Mt. 10:29
I have written before on the difference between the above verse and the one in Luke:
“Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?” Lk. 12:6
It seems these little creatures are so non-descript, so seemingly insignificant that one extra could be thrown into the bargain. The point here is that, if God is ever-mindful of even the most plain and passable (to us) of His creation, then surely (obviously, without question) we are of much more value, being created in His very image. That is monumental truth in itself. Something else has come to me this morning about this, though.
One sparrow. Our Lord mentions one sparrow falling. Alone. Sparrows are, by nature, gregarious. Often–almost always– they are seen in large crowds, gaily fluttering and fraternizing with one another on city sidewalks or among the trees. They are not solitary animals, as eagles tend to be.
Not only is our heavenly Father mindful of your suffering, but He is also sensible of the loneliness that pain can bring. The feelings of isolation. He knows. Jesus was alone on Calvary’s cross. No one at the foot of it could aptly enter into His suffering. They could feel sorrow; but they could not empathize. Not one of them knew what it meant for Him to feel all the pain and anguish, and then to have it all compounded exponentially by the great aching chasm of sin that thrust itself between Him and His own Father. Their incomprehensible oneness must needs have been “rent in twain” temporarily so that, for our sakes, the veil of the temple could be as well–permanently.
“For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.” Heb 4:15
Never, never allow the adversary to tempt you into asking, “Does He really care? Does He really know?”
That is why He came, little sparrow.