March 4, 2007: Second Sunday in Lent

Remember how two weeks ago on Transfiguration Sunday, Jesus was talking on the mountain top with Moses and Elijah? At that time, Luke used the verb exodus to describe the journey Jesus was about to embark upon. A journey that will end with his crucifixion and resurrection. Well this Sunday Jesus is on his exodus traveling. He is, Luke tells us back in verse 22, making his way to the center of the Jewish faith, Jerusalem and its Holy Temple . And on his way Jesus goes through towns and villages carrying on with his ministry, just as you all are carrying on your ministries during in this exodus journey between called pastors.

Isn't it interesting that it's Pharisees of all people, who warn Jesus to flee their town? The text is silent as to why. Maybe the Pharisees were genuinely concerned for Jesus' safety, or perhaps they were afraid of getting caught up in Herod's hunt for Jesus, or maybe they were just hoping their warning might spur Jesus just to move on without the need to directly confront him. Jesus was after all, a visiting Rabbi with a reputation that wasn't entirely kosher.

Jesus's reply doesn't thank them, or acknowledge the threat, although he knows about the fate of John the Baptist at the hands of Herod. And we recall the prophecy of his mother Mary, way back in chapter I of Luke: “he has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. “ Now If that isn't a threat to the dominate political and religious authorities of Jesus' day, I don't know what is.

Instead of acknowledging the threat, Jesus asserts he has nothing to fear from Herod, calling him “that fox.” Now, even if you've never lived on a farm with a chicken coop, you might remember from asop's fables and other childhood stories that foxes are sly, cunning and voraciously destructive. I could add another ten minutes to this sermon and give you some history on Herod's rap sheet, that would demonstrate the truth of Jesus' fox label for Herod, but I bet you'll take my word for it. Even better you'll take Jesus' word that fox is an apt name for Herod!

Jesus is his usual brutally honest self, telling it like it is. “Go tell that fox Herod what I'm doing. I am casting out demons and performing cures. ” These are public acts that demonstrate the power of God's kingdom, in contrast to the powers of evil that rule in Herod's kingdom. Jesus is casting out evil and healing people as he makes his way to the culminating act of salvation and redemption, and not even a crafty, destructive king like Herod can stop him. Jesus' journey to Jerusalem is governed by his faithfulness to God's redemptive and salvific purposes.

Jesus goes on to tell the Pharisees, “Then, I must be on my way because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem .” In the books 2 nd Kings and Jeremiah we hear of prophets being killed in Jerusalem . Recall Stephan's speech in Jerusalem which Luke records in Acts chapter 7. Just before Stephan is stoned as the first martyr for Christ, he asks the mob: “which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the righteous one.” In our worship and praying we don't often use the word prophet to describe Jesus, but clearly here that is what he considered himself to be, a prophet in the tradition of earlier Jewish prophets.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often I have desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

It is a lament of one who's love has been scorned and whose protection has been rejected. Jesus has brought the kingdom of God within reach of the beloved city of God , the home of God's Holy Temple , but the city of God is not interested. Citizens of Jerusalem had come to see Jesus back in chapters 5 & 6 of Luke's gospel and rejected him. The city has a den of foxes ruling it, who will conspire to kill Jesus. Paul tells us in his first letter to the Corinthians “the rulers of this age crucified the Lord of glory.” Jesus threatened their power and the status quo. Consider the contrast. Jesus has the clueless disciples. The rulers of this age have soldiers. Jesus serves. They rule. Jesus prays for his enemies. The foxes in power kill theirs. In a contest between a pack of foxes and a hen, who would you bet on? On who's side would you be found?

My friend Liz Venable went to the Holy land and visited a small chapel on a hill opposite Jerusalem that has a spectacular view of the city. Tradition is that Jesus cried his lament for Jerusalem where this chapel now stands. Front and center on the altar of the chapel is this image Liz gave me done in mosaic tile. Now you all in the back maybe can't tell I'm even holding up anything. So I'll describe it to you. There's a fierce looking feathered bird with its wings spread and several little chicks underneath, but, but the bird has a red comb on its head.

The text clearly says a hen, not a male chicken, but I think I know why the artist took liberties with the text, not the least of which is the centuries old traditional bias against any female imagery for God even when such images and names for God are clearly present in Hebrew or Greek. I could go on all day about mistranslations and bizarre interpretations committed in the service of the translator's theological agenda to keep God only male and nothing but male, but that's not our concern this morning.

I think there are other reasons why this image for Jesus on the altar is a rooster and not a hen. Roosters fighting one another used to be a very popular sport here in the south before NASCAR and ACC basketball. A rooster can defend himself. Roosters have barbed claws and a brutal peck that easily draws blood. Roosters are aggressive in defending their turf. Let's face it. A rooster is a much more appealing image for a protector than a hen because roosters actually have the ability to protect you. And yet Jesus did not liken himself to a rooster. He likened himself to a brooding hen, whose chief purpose in life is to protect their young with little in the way of defenses. About all a hen can do is make herself look bigger by fluffing her feathers up, sit on her chicks, and squawk. But she can also sacrifice herself--putting herself between them and a fox, and hope she satisfies the appetite of the fox thereby sparing her chicks. And that of course is exactly what Jesus does on Good Friday. He means to protect his chicks, and refuses to become a rooster to do it, to use violence. He refuses to fight fire with fire.

On Good Friday, it may have looked like just another Jewish rabble rouser not towing the line as conquered people are suppose to do, but it was the cosmic battle of all time in which the power of brute strength and terror politics was put up against a mother's love for her chicks and the hen won.

Jesus, God, is pictured here in the gospel text, not only as a redeeming God, on his way to his destination at Calvary, but also as a protecting nurturing God, who instinctively yearns to draw her young under her wing when danger threatens, but allows them the freedom to reject it her. Neither God, or God's son, can be likened to the fox that preys on the young of others, but rather God is like the hen who cares for her young, who saves them from destruction and death even at the cost of her own life.

It's easy for us, and certainly not wrong by any means, to see ourselves as individual chicks under the wings of Christ, but we miss something. Our personal individual relationships with Jesus Christ are very important, but they do not make us the body of Christ. Jesus is lamenting over the city, not its individual inhabitants. Saying you are a Christian, but not being active in a community of faith is a contradiction. We miss something when we are not part of the active body of Christ. When we come together to worship and work in ministry together we form a new being, First Moravian church, which has its own reputation. We know, having moved from East Lee Street almost seventy years ago, that the church is not a building. First Moravian church is us as well as the people who came before and who will come after us. It is our life together as the people of God in community-- past present and future-- that make up something Paul calls the body of Christ with Jesus as our head, Our chief elder.

As I have lived and ministered among you these past 12 months I have learned first hand that you all are a caring and loving family. I've learned that many of you joined First Moravian because of the warmth, and friendliness of the members. In many, many ways the community of God here is a mother hen who gives warm loving care to each of you, particularly when you are hurting or in need, and make that known. And you should be proud of the number of chicks who have grown to be chickens here under the care of First Moravian church. You give what you received from the departed saints of this congregation, by loving one another as you were loved. Each of you is precious in one another's sight, in God's sight. You welcome back with open arms members who have been absent for awhile. You are in many, many ways, one of the best kept secrets here in Greensboro !

In today's gospel Jesus is a mother hen who longs to gather us under her wings but who for us, gives up his life at the hands of foxes. What we will give to gather under our wings those who need the love and resources we have?

In last week's gospel lesson Christ was tempted to use his power for himself, instead of for others. We face the same temptation—to use our power, our love and resources, only for ourselves rather than extending beyond the walls of our hen house. Our Savior beckons us to follow him in his example reaching out in love and changing lives.