There’s a children’s fable by Aesop that tells the story of a fox who came upon a tree and saw a rooster in its branches.[i] Hoping for lunch, the fox who was cunning and sly approached the rooster with jubilation and said, “Oh, Mr. Rooster, Have you heard the wonderful news? Your family and mine and all of the other animals have agreed to forget our differences and live in peace together. Won’t you come down and celebrate with me?” The rooster answered, “I am truly delighted with this news” and he stretched and appeared to be on his tiptoes looking at something on the horizon. When the fox saw his gaze, he asked, “What is it that you see?” and the rooster told him, “I think I see a few dogs coming this way; they must have heard the good news too,…” but before he could finish his sentence, the fox had begun to run away. The rooster called after him, “Wait, where are you going? Why are you running? The dogs are friends of yours now too.” And the fox replied, “Yes, but they may not have heard the news yet, and besides I have an important errand I had almost forgotten.” And the rooster remained in his perch, satisfied he had outwitted his cunning enemy.
When Jesus calls Herod a fox, this was the image that came to mind for me. Hungry and manipulative. Sly and untrustworthy. Destructive and self-serving.
The Herod who’s named in our gospel today is Herod Antipas who was the son of Herod the Great whom we remember from Jesus’ birth narrative. This is the King Herod who murdered Jesus’ cousin John the Baptist, and reportedly now, he is seeking Jesus and desires to kill him too.
Since the transfiguration, Jesus has been moving away from Herod’s kingdom which included Galilee toward Jerusalem, but, in Luke’s gospel especially, that journey takes a long time – ten chapters of the gospel. In today’s text, we hear some Pharisees come to him and urge him to move even more quickly, to “get away from here.”
But Jesus digs in. He tells them what he’s there to do - to cast out demons and to perform cures – and he refuses to be rushed or run away. Just as he was with the devil in the wilderness, Jesus is clear in his identity as the Son of God and in his obedience to the Lord our God and no one else.
Another image I could not avoid as I read this text and prepared to preach this morning was that of the suffering in Ukraine. War is complex, and I don’t pretend to understand the dynamics of the world, military and economic factors in play. But I do see the similarities between the people who came to Jesus searching for deliverance and healing, for liberation and restoration, and the now more than two million people who have fled Ukraine and are seeking shelter as refugees.
I am grateful that last Sunday here at Grace we raised more than seventeen hundred dollars for Lutheran Disaster Response who is working with Lutheran World Federation member churches in eastern Europe to distribute hygiene supplies, food, medicine, bedding and psychosocial and pastoral care to refugees and internally displaced people, most of whom are women and children.
I believe our response to suffering must be rooted in our identity as God’s people, and our obedience to God must mirror the same strength and determination that Jesus demonstrated in our gospel today.
The third image for today comes from what Jesus says next as he laments over Jerusalem. Jesus cries out as he describes the ways that God’s people have been disobedient and the violence they have perpetrated, stoning and killing God’s messengers and prophets.
And as he names his grief, Jesus describes himself as a mother hen.
Now we could joke about mother hens who becomes obsessive about details of other people’s lives, nagging or fussing and interfering. But the image of a mother hen that Jesus is using here is one of a mothering God who wants to stretch out her wings and gather the fledglings, the newest and most vulnerable creations, within the safety or refuge, and protection of her reach. (Ruth 2:12)
Lutheran pastor
Delmer Chilton tells a story of being with his grandmother who got fresh eggs
from a neighbor.
One day they walked down the road to the neighbor’s house where the
eggs were kept cool in a springhouse. And as they were coming out of the spring
house, they heard a ruckus in the chicken yard. Chilton says there was “a
sudden raising of dust, flurry of feathers and scattering of hens and chickens,
much screeching and squawking; and then, just as suddenly, things calmed down
and an old gray hen emerged from the bushes with a large black snake in her
mouth.” [ii]
That mother hen wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her chicks or eggs.
This is the image for God that Jesus offers us today. Instead of a king who manipulates us and threatens us into obedience or one whose rule is iron-fisted, we are created and beloved by a mothering God whose love is sacrificial and boundless. God yearns to gather us in, to embrace us and to welcome us all into God’s safe keeping.
With his lament, Jesus leaves space for God’s people to respond to God’s promise of life. It’s not too late to choose God and choose life. It’s never too late. Because God acts first for us and offers us mercy and grace that is new every morning. When we reach Holy Week, Jesus will die in Jerusalem, at the hands of God’s own people, and he will be raised and resurrected to show that the forces of sin, death and the devil that defy God and rebel against God do not triumph.
Regardless of what we have done and the ways we have turned away from God and God’s word in the past, God yearns for us to find our home with God. In faith, we are freed for the sake of the world, and our obedience to God flows from our salvation.[iii] Our obedience then is our response to God’s good and generous grace that has been poured out upon us.
The late pastor and author Eugene Peterson described obedience as “the strength to stand and the willingness to leap.”[iv] As we go out into the world this week, as we continue to pray for peace in Ukraine and for the safety of the refugees may we share God’s mothering love with all whom we meet, and respond to the suffering we witness with courage, strength and willingness.
Amen.
[i] Library of Congress. Aesop’s Fables for
Children. https://read.gov/aesop/018.html, accessed 3/10/2022.
[ii] Chilton, Delmer. The
Gospel According to Aunt Mildred: Stories of Family and Faith (p. 26).
Brasstown Publishing. Kindle Edition.
[iii] Luther, Freedom
of a Christian, 405.
[iv] Paraphrased from Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience, p. 164-165
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