Sermon for March 16, 2025: Underneath the Wing based upon Luke 13:31-35

Luke 13:31-35 The Lament over Jerusalem
​At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, ‘Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’ He said to them, ‘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.” 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! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” ’

---

     A fox got our last two hens to years ago on the Sunday after Easter when I was taking the day off. She was a little thing and pretty skinny. It was kit season, so she may have had hungry babies to feed. She was pretty practiced in her craft and brazen, taking the birds from just outside the living room window in the early morning sun. You all were probably starting worship when she got the first one. I thought I heard normal chicken squabbling. It turned out to be something else. She watched and waited for the other hen to slip out to the safety of her enclosure and took her, too, though I ran out when I heard the squabbling this time. I wasn’t fast enough to save her though. When I last preached on this scripture, in 2019, I talked about being worried that a fox or other predator might one day decide they were too easy to go after. I was right to worry.

     Agricultural images are all over the Gospels. Jesus lived among farmers and people who fished for a living. Foxes and hens weren’t distant metaphors for him or for the people who listened to him preach. While I can afford a measure of grace for a hungry little fox, largely because I wasn’t relying on my birds as my primary food source or source of income, Jesus’ first audience probably treated them a little differently. If you are a sustenance farmer, the stakes are much higher when predators come around. Because his first audience understood the high stakes of raising food while also protecting it from predators, they probably understood just what Jesus was saying when he called Herod a fox and when he said he himself wished he could offer care and protection like that of a hen.

     It’s worthwhile to take a moment to recognize that it’s the Pharisees who warn Jesus that Herod want to kill him. In some parts of scripture, the Pharisees are Jesus’ greatest antagonists. Centuries of Christian antagonism towards Judaism is rooted in seeing the Pharisees as a force always out to do Jesus harm. The scholar Fred Craddock has a useful commentary on Luke. In that commentary, he points out other places where the Pharisees who are open to Jesus in chapters 7, 11, and 14. He also notes that in the book of Acts, the sequel to Luke, Pharisees were both willing to listen to members of the early church and do actually join early churches. It is clear that even the ones who argued regularly with Jesus did not all want him dead. It makes sense that they would warn him of danger. Interestingly, Jesus is not afraid of foxes, or at least unafraid of kings who acted like predators.

     Craddock also points out that in the Hebrew Bible, foxes are usually a force for destruction. In Greek literature, they are clever. Both of those meanings would have come to mind for the Pharisees when Jesus said, “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.’” Even as Jesus admits that Herod is both destructive and clever, Jesus makes it clear that he is not afraid of him. Jesus is not about to let this threat stop him from his work.

     Last week, when I talked about the temptations in the wilderness, I noted that Jesus’ ultimate priority is not his own safety. His priority is following God’s direction, even if it meant going towards danger. The scholar David Jacobsen puts it this way, “God is setting the travel agenda.” Jesus is driven by a force greater than Herod. And, Herod is not destructive enough or wily enough to outwit God.

     It is always interesting to me that Jesus compares his ministry to that of a very vulnerable mother, a mother hen. While I’ve met some pretty spunky chickens before, they aren’t the most strong and powerful animals in the world. In a commentary on this text, the scholar David Lose points out that, in the Hebrew Bible, God is portrayed as a fierce and powerful mother a couple different times. In Deuteronomy, God is a mother eagle. In Hosea, a mother bear. In Isaiah, a human mother who has given birth and is nursing her child. So, the mothering image seems to be following that pattern. But, isn’t it interesting that, instead of one of the more imposing animals or even a human, Jesus picked a hen to describe his mission?

     Craddock points out that there is one place where God is compared to a mother hen, a book in the Apocrypha called II Esdras. Most Protestants are not familiar with this book. In II Esdras, God says to Israel, “I was to you as a father to sons, as a mother to daughters, as a hen gathering her brood under her wings.” It seems like Jesus was quoting this scripture in his lament over the city of Jerusalem. I wonder if he was drawn to the this vulnerable but still deeply devoted image of a nurturing mother because he was well aware of the danger around him. He knew the power of God to direct him. He also knew his own very human limits and understood that, while he was not afraid of Herod, Herod could still do him harm. And, in a city that often disregarded prophets, he knew that his task of gathering in the ones he was called to protect would be challenging. Like baby chicks, the people whom Jesus served could get themselves in all manner of trouble. And yet, he will keep trying to gather them in.

     We are in an era when chickens are on lots of people’s minds. Not only are farmers worried about foxes, they are also worried about bird flu, which has infected literally millions of chickens in this country alone. That’s not even counting other kinds of wild and domestic birds, cattle, and cats that have been harmed. As governmental agencies tasked with caring for these birds and the humans that steward them are being hamstrung by political maneuvering and corporate greed hiding behind anti-vaccine misinformation, I’m worried about a different kind of fox being in the henhouse. And, yet, a real-life story about chickens and foxes might offer us some guidance.

     This happened this literal week before the last time I preached on this passage in 2019. It is a story worth repeating.  In northwestern France, a fox went into a chicken pen at an agricultural school. The pen was big enough to hold 6,000 chickens. And, had a door that closed each night and was supposed to be secure enough to keep out critters that weren’t supposed to be there. But, foxes had gotten in before, picking off many hens in one fell swoop. In 2019, a fox got in the pen. That fox did not, however, make it out of the pen.
​
      There doesn’t seem to have been video footage of what happened. But, it was clear from the remains of the fox that the chickens banded together. I don’t want to fool with one mean chicken. I can’t imagine taking on 6,000 of them. I even feel a little bad for the fox. But, I feel more proud of the chickens than sad for the fox. I think it is good to be reminded that those who are vulnerable when fighting alone can become extraordinarily powerful when fighting together. The destructive and sneaky don’t have to win just because they have sharper teeth. May we, like Christ, be inspired by the hens that use every bit of power they have to protect themselves and the ones they care about.  The foxes don’t have to win. Let us gather under Christ’s wing and by his side. This is where we will find the strength to survive.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:

David Schnasa Jacobsen: http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3990

Fred. B. Craddock, Luke (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009)
​
David Lose: http://www.davidlose.net/2016/02/lent-2-c-courage-and-vulnerability/
Story about the fox and chickens in France: https://www.cnn.com/2019/03/13/europe/france-fox-killed-chickens-intl-scli/index.html
​