Judy Skaggs, Presenter
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35
"The Fox and the Hen"
Our Gospel text this morning is a reversal story about power. In Jesus’ time as in our time, we imagine that those who are the strongest will have ultimate power. Luke seems to have purposefully combined two passages about a fox and a hen, where the fox – cunning and deceitful - is not destined to have his way.
Our story begins with the Pharisees warning Jesus that Herod (whom Jesus calls a fox) is out to get him. Now the Pharisees ordinarily are not known for their love of Jesus because he challenges them so often. Perhaps they think that if they tell him of Herod’s threats that Jesus will leave and then they will not have to deal with him any more. We really cannot be sure of their motivation.
But Jesus does not mince words – go and tell that fox that no matter what he wants, I have my own agenda. I have some ministries to take care of and then I will be on my way to Jerusalem, that holy city where prophets are often killed. And the ironic truth is that it is not Herod or the Roman authorities that want Jesus out of the way, it’s the foxy Pharisees, the religious authorities who despise what Jesus is teaching and doing.
But as you remember, back in the 9th chapter of Luke, Jesus turned his face toward Jerusalem. And Luke continues to remind the reader that Jesus is heading for Jerusalem through the next 10 chapters. Jesus says to the Pharisees that he must be on his way – it is necessary. This is not some casual necessity, but one woven into the very fabric of Jesus’ being and purpose. To fail to continue on to Jerusalem would be to submit to the temptation of expediency that was offered to Jesus in last week’s gospel reading of the temptations. But once again, Jesus clarifies the only way that he will be Messiah, to continue on to Jerusalem knowing what is in store for him there.
Twice Jesus talks about a three-day sequence – today, tomorrow, and the next day. Things that come in three-day sequences seem to be full of meaning. Jesus says that on that third day, he will finish his work. The Greek verb (teleo) used has the meaning of fulfillment, summing up of things, a kind of consummation. And this fulfillment has to do with death.
As Jesus thinks about Jerusalem and his people, he is saddened that those who have been sent to bring God’s word to them have been rejected, even killed. And Jesus looks upon his world with great compassion as he pictures himself as a mother hen who wants to gather her chicks under her wings.
It’s curious that Jesus would choose a mother hen. What about the mighty eagle in so many Hebrew scripture passages, or the fierce lion of Judah? Compared to these, a mother chicken does not provoke much confidence. It’s no wonder that the chicks sometimes choose the fox.
But a hen is what Jesus chooses, which – if you think about it – is pretty typical. Jesus loves to turn things upside down, wrecking our assumptions and expectations as when the last become first and the greatest in the kingdom must become a servant or a little child.
So Jesus chooses to compare himself to a mother hen who stands between her chicks and those who would do them harm. She has no fangs or claws or muscles. All she has is a willingness to shield her children with her own body. If the fox comes after them, he will have to kill her first.
The mother hen represents a different kind of power - power that is for others, a power of extravagant self-giving love. Thus the means of survival against the foxes of the world is provided not by retaliation or violence, but by gathering the innocent, the vulnerable into community in which the love of the mother hen is so strong that it would live on even after her death.
But Jesus’ sadness is that even though he offered to gather his people, they would not come. Why is that? Why would they not? Why will we not? Why is our trust in God so shallow? Why do we wander of on our own paths so easily?
Jerusalem had a reputation of not listening to the prophet’s appeals to return to God, to do justice, to live the commandments. But Jerusalem stoned prophets sent by God to call for repentance. Perhaps in our time, we are more subtle. We don’t stone prophets – we mostly just ignore words of scripture that make us uncomfortable.
Our women’s Lenten study this year is a book by Shane Claiborne that calls us to truly follow Christ in a real, day to day life. Shane writes, “I wondered what it would look like if we decided to really follow Christ. In fact, I wasn’t sure what a fully devoted Christian looked like, or if the world had seen one in the last few centuries. From my desk at college, it looked like some time back we had stopped living Christianity and just started studying it.”
Our study group is really wrestling with these ideas. Are we living the life of Christ? As we try to lay down our lives, our possessions, our culture, when is it enough? What are our responsibilities to the poor, to feeding the hungry, visiting the sick and imprisoned? Aren’t we just as guilty as Jerusalem of not keeping the words of the prophets who cry out for justice?
And yet, Jesus wants to gather Jerusalem – the Jerusalem who kills the prophets. What Jesus says is that if it were up to him, no matter about our shortcomings and struggles, we would all be gathered under his wings. In so many stories of Jesus, he is gathering people together to learn from his teachings, to be healed by his compassion, to be fed at his table. We are reminded of this “gathering Christ” as we come to the table of communion, where we remember the words of his self-giving life. “This is my body, given for you.”
The thing about Jesus though is that at his table, he would even invite the Pharisees and Herod, the foxes of the world. At Christ’s table all are welcomed. He hands all of us bread and cup that once again bring our brokenness into contact with God’s enduring love.
Christ offers himself out of a heart of love. Christ continues to gather the nations, the church in its many manifestations, the foxes and the hens, the strugglers, the questioners, the faithful. In Christ barriers are broken, as Christ offers his peace.
“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am gentle and humble at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Amen.