Jerusalem, Jerusalem… – Second Sunday in Lent (Luke 13: 31-35)
This past week, in the Lenten Devotional Unsettling Lent, one of the authors tells a story. He was part of a group, including many clergy members, who went to take part in a march on the State Capitol building. The people were advocating for the rights of low-wage workers for a living wage and the expansion of Medicaid in the state. The march eventually took the crowd to a nearby church where they would be served lunch and debrief. As they headed toward the church, one of the leaders of the march was heard over the megaphone saying, with some surprise and doubt, “Wait, are we going to a church?” It was apparent that this woman didn’t think highly of churches, and Brian, the author, suspected that she had good reason not to like churches. It reminded me of once when I pulled up to a stop light behind a car that had a bunch of bumper stickers across the back. I agreed with the sentiment of many of their stickers. They were for things like civil rights, caring for the environment, and for the political candidates that I had voted for. However, there was also one sticker that I remember jumping out at me (even though I can’t recall what it said exactly). This sticker was anti-church, anti-religion, and even though I don’t remember what it said, I remember the thought I had when I saw it. I remember because I turned to my friend who was with me, another future pastor, and I said, “I wonder what church hurt them?”
So, both of those stories reflect a sad reality about religion, specifically Christianity, in our society today; it seems to hurt and drive away just as many, if not more, people then it helps and uplifts. I did not doubt that that driver in front of me had a good reason for putting that bumper sticker on their car. I did not doubt that there was some “church hurt” in their past, because there is for many, many people. Even people who still go to church, perhaps for some of you in this room this morning. When the people we care for, and who we believe care for us and should have our best interest in mind because it’s the Christian thing to do, scold us or reject us or support policies or ideologies that harm us or people we care about, it is painful. Of course, it is also possible that the people in those examples had never been inside a church, and the church was never a part of their life. However, they still formed a negative opinion of it because they saw that people who professed to be Christian would often act in horrible ways. After all, speaking as someone who has been to seminary and read the books, it does not take a Biblical scholar, or even a regular church attender, to know that Jesus is about love, and that those who claim that the way of Christ justifies hate, oppression, or discrimination are being hypocritical. At best, hypocritical. So, I understand the impulse to be critical and I can imagine the feelings behind it. Still, it is disheartening, and I expressed that feeling that day with a lament; “What did the church do to hurt you?”
Our scripture reading this morning does try to answer that question, but I it has something to say to us as a church that wants to reach those hurt people. In our scripture reading for today, Luke uses several literary devices to tell his story including metaphor, foreshadowing of things to come, and allusions to current events. (Current to Luke and his audience, that is.) He also uses the poetry of lament. There is a lament from Jesus. “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!” Here we also see the use of metaphor as Jesus compares himself to a mother hen reaching out her wing to protect and care for her young. This lament by Jesus then is a lament over the state of his relationship with Jerusalem. He longs to be close to the people he cares for, but for whatever reason they are not willing, and it seems willingness is important. The text seems to imply that Jesus cannot just force people under his wing, they must be willing. We cannot be made to recognize Jesus as “the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Now, whether that unwillingness is due to church hurt or disbelief or hypocrisy or sinfulness, there is something that is keeping Jesus separated from the people. There is something keeping the people from recognizing Jesus, and it is causing him sadness.
Jesus uses another metaphor in this scripture, as well. When his followers come to him and warn him that Herod is looking for him and wants to kill him Jesus refuses to let this threat scare him and calls Herod a fox. This is quite the opposite of Jesus the mother hen. The fox is looking to devour those weaker than it is. The fox is often depicted as being a scheming and manipulative character. Not a nurturing character like the mother hen. So, perhaps we must ask ourselves, as Christians do we act more like a hen or a fox? Do people pull away from the mother hen because they do not see that same nurturing character in us? Not only that, but if, and when, we act more like the fox, we are making it more difficult for ourselves to be close to the mother hen. Can’t have a fox in the henhouse, after all.
I have heard recently that empathy is not a good or even Christian thing. That it is not something that God asks of us. And I imagine that the woman from the story in the devotional had experiences of Christians and Christian churches in which she did not experience empathy from those people. Yet in this passage from Luke, we have a metaphor that paints a very empathetic picture of Jesus. He describes himself as a mother hen that desires to gather the people of Jerusalem under their wing, to protect them and be close to them. This is an image of an empathetic savior. The mother hen has care for those in her protection. Jesus cares for the people. The fox is focused on its next meal and its own safety.
Now, are the fox or the hen capable of the feeling of empathy? I don’t know. I know some people, especially people with house pets, would make the argument that their animals are capable of some level of empathy, or at least a sense of when their person is feeling a bit down. That is not the rabbit hole I want to go down today. I just want us to note Luke’s use of the animal metaphors here. The king, who is concerned mostly with his own power, is depicted as a fox – a predator. Jesus is portrayed as the mother hen, who cares for us. Not only that, but there is an implication that when we are not open to that side of Jesus there is an incompleteness or misdirection to our walk of faith. Having empathy for God’s creation -the people as well as the plants, animals, and all of it- and having care for it’s wellbeing helps us to come closer to Jesus on our journey. To come closer to this savior that describes himself as mother hen. Keeping this in mind is important for us as individuals, but also as the church, the Body of that same Christ at work in the world today.
As I mentioned, this scripture also includes foreshadowing as a literary device. Luke is signaling to the audience what is to come when Jesus arrives in Jerusalem. For instance, Jesus mentions that he will reach his goal on the third day and acknowledges that he knows he will not die before he is in Jerusalem. This foreshadowing helps to focus us on our Lenten journey. For Jesus that journey leads to Jerusalem. Just as we are during Lent. It all leads to Jerusalem. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, and not even Herod can stop him. Beyond the threat of Herod, Jesus knows that Jerusalem is an unsettled and unsettling place. Jesus recognizes it as a place where prophets go to die. It is a place where the people are not willing or able to recognize the Son of Man. Still, Jesus’ trip to Jerusalem, and the fate he will meet there, does not stop him from making that journey. It cannot be stopped, not by Herod’s scheming and not even by the people’s disbelief. He will go and do what he is meant to go and do. Again, how can we as individuals, or as the church, going and doing what we are meant to do and called to be? How can we be better aware of those times when we are honoring that call, and when are we letting ourselves be sidetracked by fear of the fox?
Finally, there is one other thing that Luke is doing this story. He is using it to allude to events facing his audience in their present moment. The audience that Luke was writing to originally were people persecuted by the Roman Empire. That persecution included the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. So, as Luke writes his gospel, part of what he is doing is helping his audience find understanding and make meaning in the difficult times they were living through. So, when Jesus says, “Look your house is left to you desolate!” they might understand that to mean the temple. Unfortunately, over the centuries some have come to interpret this part of the scripture as Jesus declaring that this tragedy was punishment for Jerusalem rejecting him, not being willing to come to the mother hen. But this destruction was not the act of the one who sent the mother hen, this was the act of the fox. This was the act of the empire, not of a faithful God. Yet, interpretations like this, that would depict God as vengeful and Christ as easily defeated, are another cause of church hurt. They are another reason that people do not find comfort or hope in the church. How we interpret these things matters.
So, how do we, as individuals and as the church, deal with all of this; who we are called to be or how we are perceived? Well, part of it is by realizing that we have a story to tell, and as the author of Luke knows, it is important how we choose to tell our story. That is after all the beginning of how we share our ministry with the world. So, we will have decisions to make about how this story speaks to our current moment, and to people’s actual experience of life. Also, what metaphors will we use to describe our faith, or what it means to be church? People love metaphors and finding understanding through metaphor. The fox or the hen. Power or empathy and care.
However we choose to tell the story, Jesus reminds us (especially during Lent) that the story is always going to the same place: Jerusalem. And it is not going to Jerusalem to fight and conquer. That’s not the kind of victory we are headed for. Jesus goes to Jerusalem, the capitol city, to be captured and to die, to give himself to save us, and of course, to rise again. Because not King Herod, or the Romans, or death could stop Jesus from being in Jerusalem. So, why should any of that stop us from telling our story, sharing the love of God with others, like that woman in the story from the devotional, those who doubt the church’s ability or willingness to do that work. Let us find ourselves under the wing of the mother hen. Amen.