Dancing on the Edge of the Nest

My granddaughters have been quite intrigued by the life and death drama playing itself out in the hanging fern on our front porch. They don’t think of it in quite so dire terms, but I’ll bet the two parental robins, squawking their disapproval every time we approach the nest, fear that their very survival is at stake.

And to be honest, the leading indicators aren’t good. The nest was originally populated by three blue eggs, each of them brimming with whatever possibilities any middle class robin born into a good home might hope for. However, the nesting process seemed a bit long and worrisome until one morning we peeked and saw that one of the three eggs was broken, its occupant AWOL. But then we turned our eyes downward and there on the porch lay the first casualty, a crumpled little wisp of a thing resembling a tiny misshapen prune more than a nestling that, once grown, would be seen as the harbinger of spring in all its freshness and hope. I tossed it gently behind the bushes; a full funeral seemed a bit overblown, but I did have a twinge.

The next day a second chance for carrying on the robin family name penetrated its fragile shell and emerged, its beak flapping open and shut and assuming, wrongly, that if we were there it was to bring food. This one seems to understand, unlike its short-lived sibling, that it is best not to dance on the edge of the nest.

Momma Robin, undoubtedly awash in Momma guilt, rained down a hailstorm of squawks whenever danger threatened. I scoffed at her fear of the girls—anyone should know they wouldn’t hurt a flea. More understandable is its suspicion of my brother-in-law, who is living with us on an extended visit while relocating here. He’s harmless too, but he’s a bit restless, wanders out onto the porch in the wee hours, emitting puffs of white papal-like smoke into the fresh morning air, and making unexpected body noises that are much more severe than anything Ashley or Ayla can replicate--thankfully. I’m sure Momma Robin has noticed and is exceedingly cautious as she sneaks worms behind enemy lines.

I do not know how this epic saga will end, and I’m not going to wait to reveal it, even though it is surely a matter of hours, a few days at most. For my purposes, the ending makes no difference except for what it tells us about the larger drama—the cosmic nest into which we are all born, emerging cautiously from our shells, wondering if someone will bring us breakfast before we clamber up the wall of the nest, curious as to what is on the other side, somehow believing that whatever it is will surely begin with a soft landing. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise, would it?

It so happened that the robin drama was evolving at about the same time I had come across two pieces of disturbing information about the state of our global society. The first appeared under a headline that claimed “The World's Richest 8% Earn Half of All Planetary Income.” The article previewed a forthcoming study from the lead research economist at the World Bank, Branko Milanovic. His report will offer “the first calculation of global income-inequality, and he has found that the top 8% of global earners are drawing 50% of all of this planet's income.” The report also notes the following:

Wealth-inequality is always far higher than income-inequality, and therefore a reasonable estimate of personal wealth throughout the world would probably be somewhere on the order of the wealthiest 1% of people owning roughly half of all personal assets. These individuals might be considered the current aristocracy, insofar as their economic clout is about equal to that of all of the remaining 99% of the world's population.

I found this to be staggering, but it only prepared me for the sucker punch. This was another headline that barked out an impossible claim: “Half of Americans Below or Near Poverty Line.” The piece acknowledges that the Census Bureau claims 15% of Americans live in poverty but argues that the truth is far worse. Paul Buchheit writes, “Inequality is spreading like a shadowy disease through our country, infecting more and more households, and leaving a shrinking number of financially secure families to maintain the charade of prosperity.” 

The numbers in both articles can undoubtedly be debated and parsed, but the indictment is not in our mathematics. It will come most forcefully if we lose track of the real inequities that characterize life in this nation of ours, often lasting from cradle to grave.

This is a particularly urgent concern of mine and I think it is something we ignore at our peril. In a recent post about celebrity culture I wrote:

We are awash in celebrities without talent, wealth without merit, and causes without virtue. When matched with national and global distress and with increasing public anger we are at risk of a dangerous upheaval in our society.

I found this sentiment seconded by my previously-referenced brother-in-law who has had his share of hard knocks and tough living, but who on occasion offers up some unvarnished insights that I find disturbingly true. "It's going to be the downfall of this country," he said recently in regard to the growing economic gap between the haves and have-nots. "Maybe not in my lifetime, but people aren't going to put up with this #$%^@  forever."

The language was a bit more elegant but the point roughly the same when the distinguished economist Robert Reich recently wrote that it is the widening inequality that is killing the economy. Rejecting the notion that Americans have been living beyond their means, Reich argues that just the opposite is true:

The means of most Americans haven’t kept up with what the economy could and should provide. The economy is twice as large as it was three decades ago, and yet the typical American is earning about the same, adjusted for inflation. All the gains have been going to the top.

I think there is hope. There is a movement afoot in the country that I believe frames the issues in a very inspiring and strategically significant way. It is championed by Jim Wallis, a friend from another life, who brings an evangelical faith and a thirst for social justice to this nation's crisis of inequality and its hunger for community.

Wallis's new book, On God's Side: What Religion Forgets and Politics Hasn't Learned About Serving the Common Good, lays out a framework that is evolving into an important dialogue about the common good. I plan to join in.

Three robins in various forms of viability are struggling for life on my front porch. It seems only fair that they each have a chance.

But they don't.