A Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 13: 31-35
In this morning’s gospel text, we have one of the strangest juxtapositions of animal imagery. That’s right: we have talk of a fox and a hen within two verses of one another. You remember the old children’s story of the crafty sly fox and the little red hen? These two opposites have often been put together in stories because they are natural foes in the animal kingdom, kind of like cats and dogs.
But why would Luke, our storyteller here, put these images together? What is he trying to teach us?
Well, it begins when the Pharisees come and offer a friendly word of warning that Herod is plotting to kill Jesus. He responds by saying: “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 away from Jerusalem.’” Yes, Herod is a sly fox. He is the predator who sees Jesus as a threat and wants to get rid of him. He’s just as we would expect a fox to be. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with this image.
But then, Jesus bursts into a surprising public lament. He bemoans the state of the city, crying “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!”
This is rather shocking on a number of levels. First of all, Jesus is very demonstrative of his emotions. For those who are used to keeping a stiff upper lip, it is a bit disarming that Jesus, our role model, would let his feelings show with such abandon. Perhaps he is even weeping as he utters these words. He is clearly shaken by the disobedience to God and the cruelty of the people of Jerusalem.
To know Jesus is to know God. So this is telling us how much God hurts for the world, how much God’s heart aches when we turn away and follow other things, when we choose self-centeredness and injustice. It tells us how much God longs for us to return. It is shocking that God is so passionate about us.
The second thing that surprises that he likens himself to a mother hen. Did we hear that right? He compares himself to a female chicken? What in the world are we supposed to do with this bizarre image? Chickens, as you know, just aren’t that glamorous and for those who are fixed on the maleness of Jesus, this feminine metaphor can be a stumbling block. But for now, let’s try to look past these barriers to our understand and open our minds to what Jesus is saying to us.
First, let’s deal with the hen thing. When we know that Herod—the fox—is out to get Jesus, we would rather Jesus be a wolf or some other powerful predator who can take care of that nasty fox. Instead, he calls himself a hen. We all know what short work foxes make of hens. In so doing, he shows his vulnerability.
But it is this very vulnerability that makes Jesus so spectacular. He says, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.” Have you ever seen a mother hen do this? Apparently, the mother has a wonderful ability to scoop up her little chicks and tuck them right under her wings where they will be safe. When the wee ones peep out and try to make a run for it, she simply scoops them back in where they can nestle securely, unaware of the dangers of the outside world.
What an amazing tenderness this show us! Jesus longs to gather us under the loving wings of the eternal God. Isn’t there something incredibly moving about this idea? Isn’t there something deep within us that yearns to be gathered in by the cosmic mother hen? Don’t we hunger for this kind of incorruptible love?
But Jesus goes on to say to the people of Jerusalem, “but you were not willing!” It reminds us that our hearts are divided. Even though a part of us may long to run to the wings of our Savior, another part of us is stubborn and completely unwilling. We’d rather go anywhere but God. Martin Luther described this as being saint and sinner at the same time.
We, like Jerusalem, are not willing. Yet, Jesus goes to the cross for us anyway. He becomes the vulnerable lamb of God for our sake. He subjects himself to the wicked fox. And in emptying himself in this way, he is glorified. Jesus triumphs over sin and death and with this victory in hand, he continues to long for us. He desperately wants to gather us under his wings, despite our unwillingness.
And so in this season of Lent when we are focused upon repentance, we have to look at this scripture and say: what is it asking me to change? Clearly it is telling us that we need to allow ourselves to be gathered up under God’s wings. So often, people find themselves hard to love, hard to forgive. They beat themselves up about every last thing and then wonder why they are unhappy. This scripture tells us that this kind of self-loathing is unnecessary and destructive. Godyearns to draw us under the wings of love no matter what we’ve done. There is always another opportunity to return home. First, we must allow ourselves to be loved.
Secondly, we are invited to let this all encompassing love spill out into the rest of our lives, so that we can give the kind of amazing love that God gives to us. This is such a simple message and you’ve heard this theme running through scripture again and again. Yet, we have a new opportunity to really do it. It makes all the difference in the world.
Let me give you an example. One of the families in my internship congregation experienced a life-changing event 104 days ago. Their young adult son, Grayson, had a heart “event” that may have starved his brain of oxygen for up to 11 minutes. Amazingly, he lived through it. At first, he was confined to a bed where he was on oxygen and a feeding tube doing nothing but thrash about, unable to comprehend a thing. Imagine the pain and suffering his parents went through to see their talented, young college graduate suddenly in this condition! Yet, with many prayers and much hard work, Grayson has made tremendous progress toward recovery and is now in a long-term rehabilitation facility where each he can do many things for himself and each day, he learns new skills.
Just yesterday his mother, Regina, wrote in their blog that she attended her 40th high school class reunion. She had tried to talk herself out of it, thinking that instead she should be driving the 2 hours north to see Grayson over the weekend. In the end, however, she went. And this is what she wrote.
“I admit I was looking forward to seeing these classmates after 40 years but I was unprepared for how much it affected me. I walked into a room of 59-year old women and immediately felt surrounded by love. Word of Grayson's situation had already spread among them (thanks to Facebook), the years disappeared and we shared that unique wrinkle in time that you only experience a few times in life. The outpouring of love and prayers made me feel part of something larger than high school, larger than the common experience of parenthood. By no means was I the only one in the room whose life has taken a huge left turn. The room was filled with the challenges of parents, children, health, employment and faith. For one afternoon we felt we were all in this together. For one afternoon these were not just classmates from 40 years ago but we were sisters in life loving each other and praying for each other."
I believe Regina was being held in the wings of God through the compassion and understanding of her classmates. That’s what we need to realize. Every time we care selflessly about someone, we are allowing God to speak to them through us! We can bless people more than we ever though possible if we just nestle into God’s wings and live from that place of security and love.
In this season of Lent, let us tune our hearts to that love, let us listen for the voice of God amid the babble of our daily lives. We are beckoned by God to live in those feathery wings, to be willing to receive the love which God offers us in Jesus and courageously share it. Amen.
Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
