As the eagle stirreth up its nest, Hovereth over its young, Spreadeth out its wings, Taketh them, beareth them on its feathers,
In his final words to Israel, Moses compares the Lord's dealings with His people to a mother eagle. She breaks up her own nest, then flies beneath her falling young — which raises the question: why does God unsettle the life He gave us?
The eagle builds comfort into her nest, and then ruins it on purpose.
It is said that in building her nest she lays the floor with sharp thorns and covers them over with soft down. In this cosy bed her young are hatched and grow up. As they become strong enough to fly, they are reluctant to leave the comfort of the nest. But that condition would not fit them to fulfil their normal functions in later life. So the mother scrapes up the down in the bottom of the nest. When the young eagles feel the sharp thorns they jump over the side of the nest. This tests the strength of their wings and the support of the air. ... Christians are often placed in similar comfortable circumstances. If there were no thorny incidents in our lives, we would never experience the wealth of God's resources. He stirs up the most comfortable nest and makes those inside feel the thorn pricks.
The stirring is only half the picture. The young bird falls into real danger, and the parent puts herself between it and the arrow.
The time comes when she wants to teach her young ones to gaze at the sun, and to soar from the rock themselves. Then she "stirs up her nest and flutters over her young." The young ones must face the open space below. She flings them off the rock! They flutter and sink down toward the homes of men. They come near the hunter's arrow. She swoops down from above in the might of her wing. She "spreads out her wings, takes them, bears them on her wings." The fluttering eaglet rests its wings on the tested strength of the parent wing. The hunter's dart can reach the eaglet's life only through her own. So she teaches them to soar, and to rise and gaze on the bright and glorious sun as only she can.
Another writer names what we naturally lean on instead of God.
The last thing we do naturally is to turn to God. We prefer to lean on friends, or on circumstances. All the gracious dealings of our God are to remove the human supports from beneath us, so that we may use the wings of faith and soar into a fuller knowledge of Himself... She makes the nest uncomfortable, so the young bird has to get out of it. That way it learns to use its wings and begins to fly. The figure teaches complete trust in God.
The eagle stands for power. Here that power carries weakness, and God used the same picture when He reminded Israel how He had carried them to Himself.
But the "flying eagle" can suggest still other thoughts. They are thoughts not only of divine strength or of divine wisdom, but of divine tenderness too, and ministering care. "You have seen," says the Lord to His people of old, "how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself" (Ex. 19:4)... Here then, under this figure, we may think not merely of heights that surpass our powers, and of ways too wonderful for us. We may think of divine love that would enable us to soar, and support our feebleness in it with divine omnipotence.
The song adds that no other god shared the work. One writer ties this to the kind of country God chose for them — a place with nothing else to hold on to.
He brought them into a land of deserts and pits, where they had no need to lean on "a broken reed, which will pierce the hand of any man who leans on it," because they leaned on God Himself. "Your clothing did not wear out on you and your foot did not swell these forty years." And why? Because "the Lord alone did lead them, and there was no strange god with him."
The picture ends with a line about the Lord leading Israel alone. One writer turns it into a question for us.
"The Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." Does the Lord alone lead you and me? In all our life, is the Lord alone before our eyes? ... Do not let us allow anything between God and our souls. The Spirit of God is bringing the name and fame of this glorious God before us. He has come to where we were, so that He might bring us to where He is.
- Nest — the soft bed has thorns under the down. The comfort was never meant to last, and God is the One who scrapes it up.
- Stir — trials are not God stepping back. He is pulling away the props we lean on instead of Him, so the wings of faith get used.
- Fall — the eaglet is flung out and drops toward the hunter's arrow. The danger is real, and that is where she teaches it to soar.
- Wings — the parent dives below and takes the dart first. Divine love lifts the weak bird to soar and holds up its feebleness with divine power.
- Soar — the goal is height and sight: a life led by the Lord alone, with no rival god before our eyes.
So Jehovah alone did lead him, And no strange god [was] with him.
Moses' song looks back over Israel's wilderness years and names the one who brought them through: a single guide, with no rival at His side. The verse just before it pictures an eagle with its young. What was that leading like? And do the words about a foreign god speak of Israel's loyalty, or of a God who needs no helper?
The verse names the guide by ruling out every other. One writer turns that into a question about our own lives.
"The Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." Does the Lord alone lead you and me? In all our life, is the Lord alone before our eyes? "There was no strange god with him." Let us not allow anything to come between God and our souls. This glorious God, whose name and fame the Spirit of God is bringing before us, has come to where we were, so that He might bring us to where He is. He guards us like the apple of His eye.
(Older translations say "strange god" where the ESV says "foreign god.")
God chose a road with nothing in it to lean on.
When did the Lord bring up His people? When the very circumstances He brought them through, and brought them into, were the proof that the Lord was bringing them there. He brought them into a land of deserts and pits. There they had no need to lean on "a broken reed, which goes into a man's hand and pierces it if he leans on it," because they leaned on God Himself. "Neither did your clothing wear out on you, nor did your foot swell, these forty years." And why? Because "the Lord alone did lead them, and there was no strange god with him."
The leading begins with discomfort. The eagle of the previous verse will not leave its young where they are.
People say that when she builds her nest, she lays the floor with sharp thorns and covers them with soft down. When the young are strong enough to fly, they are reluctant to leave the comfort of the nest… So the mother scrapes up the down at the bottom of the nest. When the young eagles feel the sharp thorns, they jump over the side. This tests the strength of their wings and the support of the air… If there were no thorny incidents in our lives, we would never experience the wealth of God's resources.
One writer names what God takes away, and what He is after.
The last thing we do by nature is to turn to God. We prefer to lean on friends, or on circumstances. All the gracious dealings of our God are meant to remove the human supports from beneath us, so that we may use the wings of faith and soar into a fuller knowledge of Himself.
The stirring is only half of it. The eaglet that drops does not fall alone, and the one who catches it meets the danger first.
The young ones must dare the space in mid-air below, and she flings them off the rock! They flutter and sink down toward the homes of men. They come near the fowler's arrow. She swoops down in her might of wing from the height above… The fluttering eaglet rests its wings on the tried strength of the parent wing. The fowler's dart can reach the eaglet's life only through her own.
One writer takes "no foreign god with him" further than Israel keeping clear of idols. God did the whole work without a partner.
By the law He had stirred them up as the eagle stirs her nest. With outstretched wings, as in the pillar of cloud, He had sheltered and nestled them. Then He had borne them up and carried them in His feathers. He, He alone did this, asking help of no strange god. He set them on the high places of Canaan, in the abundance of that rich land.
The guidance was not vague. Israel could see it, day by day, above the tabernacle.
In this way the Lord placed Himself at the head of His redeemed people. In His patient grace He led them through the various stages of their wilderness journey. And the movement of the cloud was the Lord's own word to them. If it rose from the tabernacle, that was the same as His command; and the same held if it stayed on the tabernacle… So the Lord took up the guidance of His people through all their pilgrim path.
- Found. He took them up where nothing else would — a desert with no broken reed to lean on, so that they leaned on Him.
- Stirred. God makes the nest uncomfortable. He takes away the supports we prefer, so that we use the wings of faith.
- Carried. When the eaglet drops, the parent wing is underneath it, and the arrow aimed at it must pass through her first.
- Alone. He asked help of no strange god; the whole journey, from the stirring to the high places, is His work without a partner.
- Followed. Since He led alone, let nothing stand between the soul and Him. Is the Lord alone before our eyes today?