Luke 13:31-35
Some Pharisees
came and said to Jesus, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He
said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons
and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.
Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is
impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to
it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers
her brood under her wings, and you
were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not
see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the
name of the Lord.’”
In
this passage from Luke, Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem. Jerusalem. Where he
will speak truth to power and then lay down his life for his flock. It is how
shepherds to this day protect their flock – having moved them into the
sheepfold, a sort of U-shaped affair, the shepherd lies down across the
entrance to sleep for the night. No one gets in, no one gets out without going
through the shepherd.
As
he makes his way to Jerusalem, the often castigated Pharisees warn him that
Herod is out to get him. Anyone familiar with the four gospels will recognize
that Herod has been out to get Jesus since the Magi came looking for the babe
in the manger. By the time of this episode we know that Herod slaughtered
thousands of innocent children in an effort to kill Jesus. After a family
sojourn back in Egypt – of all places – Jesus is still hanging around, making
life for that “old fox” Herod, Caesar’s appointed “King of the Jews,” a
challenge. Since foxes were considered lesser adversaries than lions, “old fox”
is not meant as a compliment! Jesus knows there are greater powers than Herod
and says so.
Jesus
allows as to how there is still work to be done – casting out demons and
performing cures – and then it is to Jerusalem: “that city that kills the
prophets and stones those who are sent to it.” Jerusalem – literally “city of
peace – city of shalom” – has been a problem for some time. The cultic center
of the universe for ancient Israel, the appointed altar for all appointed
sacrifices to the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Jesus, had long been
under the political and religious control of the priestly caste and upper
classes. God’s own opinion writers like Isaiah, Amos, Hosea, Ezekiel and others
had long issued the warning that too much attention was being paid to what
amounted to expensive sacrifices for most of God’s people, and not enough
attention paid to the heart of the covenant – making sure that those without
resources like the poor, widows, orphans and resident (undocumented) aliens are
taken care of by the community.
A
covenant that hearkens back to the 15th chapter of Genesis where we
find God in God’s mercy attempting to give Abram the hope he has already lost. Abram
has left home, and at his advanced age still has no male heir. “Do not be
afraid,” are the first words God speaks to Abram in a vision. “Just look at the
stars in the heavens and count them if you are able! So shall your descendants
be! And, I shall make you and your descendants a blessing for all the peoples
of the Earth!”
“O
Lord, how am I to know?” says Abram. How indeed! This is perhaps the central
question of faith for all of us. How are we to know? When the heavens are
darkened, when we cannot see the light, when we cannot count the stars, how are
we to know? When political authorities are threatening to get us, or abrogating
responsibility for all citizens, how are we to know? When we know that if we
are to proceed in the way in which we are traveling it will lead to certain
confrontation and even death, how are we to know?
“Bring
me a heifer, a goat, a ram a turtledove, and a young pigeon and I shall show
you,” says the Lord. Which strikes us as odd, but Abram knows what to do,
sacrificing the animals and laying out one half of each across from the other
half, driving away the birds of prey. This is an offering for the Lord, and sets
the stage for the Lord’s covenant ceremony. This is how it was done in those
days. The parties would walk between the laid out animal parts with the
understanding that this will happen to me should I break the terms of the
covenant. Note how God passes through on Abram’s behalf while Abram is in a
deep darkness and sleep.
This
passing through can be likened to Moses and the people passing through the Red
Sea on dry land. Or, like Jesus passing through the cross and what the world
counts as death into new life. Covenants are sealed by someone having passed
through something somewhere. Just like we pass through the waters of Baptism to
be in covenant with God in Christ.
Once
you have passed through there is a degree of ultimate safety guaranteed.
Abram
knows this. Jesus knows this. Knowing that Jesus, like God does for Abram,
passes through for us while we are in deep darkness, we are those people who
know this as well.The
Herods and Pilates of this world never do get it and so trust only their own
forcefulness.
But we digress.
Jesus then says, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as
a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” After
centuries of debate about the role of women in the church and in society, few
have even noticed the metaphor Jesus - the logos, the Word, the Word which was
with God before creation, the Word that is God, through whom all things were
made (see John 1: 1-5) - employs. Jesus likens himself to a woman – a mother
hen really - but a woman none the less. [Making E.J. Dionne Jr’s recent suggestion
that the next pope be a nun make a lot of sense!]
Jesus
likens being in a covenant relationship with God as being like chicks under the
wings of a mother hen. Under those wings is warmth, and safety, and love, and
care that is unbounded, which may be the root characteristic of the very mercy
we pray for so often.
God
as a mother hen. That would be God as female protector. As opposed to Herod the
“old fox.” If we have ever seen baby
chicks we would know that just as soon as the mother hen gets five of them
under her wings another three pop out. They just squirt out like they are
greased! People in an agrarian society would know just how true and comical
this really looks. No doubt whoever is listening is laughing despite the tone
of prophetic judgment.
Note
how easily Jesus turns to judge the living and the dead as we say. Those in
charge in Jerusalem would not find this so funny. The peasants who usually live
their lives in abject fear of the Romans and Ruling Class in Jerusalem are
seeing the kind of hope Abram would see when he counts the stars in the sky.
Whether
we find this figure of God the mother hen fetching or fearsome depends on
whether we count ourselves among the chicks under her wings, or among those who
are busy squirting out and away from the protection of her wings. As always, it
is a matter of perspective. The irony of living in God’s kingdom is that it is safer
to be with the hen than the fox. Go figure. The least and last shall be first
and so on.
Many
people never even stop to think about this at all. We, on the other hand, are
those people who take time during Lent to look and see where we find ourselves:
under her wings? Or, playing with the foxes of this world?
We often
pray, “O
God, whose property is always to have mercy….,” recalling that at the heart of
God’s glory is mercy. Kurt Vonnegut once observed that being merciful is the one
good idea we have been given so far. For when we are merciful we are close to
the heart of God’s glory. God’s mercy in Jesus invites us to squirm back under “her
wings” before it’s too late. Amen.
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