
I’m sometimes asked how I go about preparing my sermons each week. It begins on Monday morning. I take the gospel reading from the upcoming Sunday’s lectionary, and I pray with it. Then, I continue praying with it throughout the week.
And, there’s always a word or a phrase or an image from one of the readings that draws my attention and speaks to my heart.
And, the image that stood out for me this week was the image in today’s gospel reading of Jesus as a Mother Hen. That image literally brought me to tears this week.
I’ve gotten comfortable over the years with referring to God as both “Father” and “Mother,” but I never before have I contemplated Jesus as Mother figure.
As we just heard in today’s Gospel passage, Jesus describes himself (not as a mighty “Lord” or “King”), but rather as a loving, gentle Mother Hen, protecting us under her wings.
What an absolutely beautiful image for us to contemplate this Lenten season.
As you can see in your bulletin today, the tile of my homily this morning is called “The Fox and the Hen.”
And, that may seem like the title of a cute little children’s story, but today’s Gospel message is certainly not about sweetness and light.
As we just heard in today’s Gospel message for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, the Pharisees are warning Jesus that King Herod is trying to kill him.
And, that may seems surprising to, because the Pharisees are usually the ones who are trying to trick Jesus and get him in trouble, right?
Some Biblical scholars have suggested that the Pharisees here are actually working for King Herod — that the religious authorities are working with the political authorities — in trying to intimidate Jesus and keep him away from Jerusalem.
But, as we just heard, Jesus defiantly tells them that he’s not going anywhere: that Jerusalem is his destiny.
And, then, Jesus does something really brazen: He boldly proclaims in the public square that King Herod is a “fox.”
Now, I wouldn’t mind if somebody called me a “fox.” Today, it is a compliment. But, in Jesus’s day, calling someone a “fox” in Jesus’s day was a great insult.
The fox is known to be a crafty and cunning animal; one who is sly, slick and untrustworthy; one who preys upon the week and defenseless.
In today’s Gospel message, Jesus publically insults the Head of State, King Herod, by referring to him as a “fox,” a sly, crafty predator.
So, yes, my friends, as you can see: Jesus did indeed get involved in politics.
So, who was this King Herod? What was he like?
Well, he’s not the same guy we heard about at Christmas time. That was Herod, the Great, who instructed the Magi to find the Baby Jesus.
This Herod in today’s Gospel reading is Herod the Great’s son, who inherited his wealth and position. And, this Herod was known to be very vain and insecure. He was known for his great ego. He built enormous buildings in his name; over-the-top palaces dripping in gold. And, he built great walls around the Jerusalem.
This Herod is the bully who had Jesus’s cousin, John the Baptist, beheaded and then had his head served on a silver platter.
As I mentioned, this story of “The Fox & the Hen” is no children’s story, is it? But, it’s certainly a very timely one. Jerusalem was a place not unlike our world today.
It was a place fraught with conflict. A place where the most vulnerable (the ones Jesus called “the least of these”) were often preyed upon by fox-like power systems.
Jesus came to establish a new kingdom, one where “the mighty would be pulled down from their thrones, and the lowly would be lifted up high.” A world where the “least of these” would be given most importance.
And, he, Jesus, wasn’t going to be like the kings and foxes. Instead, Jesus described himself as a mother hen. Not as a majestic eagle or even a strutting rooster, but as a chicken!
And, that sounds so crazy, right? Because in a battle between a fox and a hen, who’s going to win?! The hen is no match for the fox! Describing yourself as a chicken sounds defeatist and pathetic.
But by describing himself as ‘Mother Hen,’ Jesus is letting the Pharisees know that he’s not concerned with protecting his own safety, but with protecting “the least of these” from the foxes of the world.
Like a Mother Hen, Jesus desires to gather the most vulnerable and powerless under his protective wings.
Of the Mother Hen, the Greek philosopher, Plutarch, wrote: “What of the hen whom we observe each day at home, with what care she governs and guards her chicks? She lets down her wings for the chicks to come under; she arches her back for them to climb upon; there is no part of her body with which she does not wish to cherish her chicks if she can, nor does she do with without a joy and alacrity which she seems to exhibit by the sound of her own voice.”
That’s Jesus: Our maternal protector, brave and gentle, strong and tender.
As we heard in our “Words of Integration & Guidance” this morning, a Mother Hen will actually alarm her chicks if she senses that danger is present. She will actually position herself between the danger and her chicks. In fact, she will even die so that her chicks might live, hiding them under her protective wings.
And, that is the image that brought me to tears this week during my prayer time: the image of those maternal, protective wings being pinned to the cross.
Jesus was willing to die at the hands of the foxes, because that’s what prophets do: they bravely and selflessly put their lives on the line to protect those who are most vulnerable of being preyed upon by the foxes of the world.
My friends, as followers of the Way of Jesus, we are called to do the same.
So, my question for you on this 2nd Sunday of Lent is this: “In the battle going on right now between the foxes and the hens, which side are you on?”
Are you on the side of the foxes? Do you support the Herods of our day and their dishonest, fox-like ways?
Or, are you on the side of the Mother Hen, using your wings to protect the most-vulnerable and marginalized from the fox-like power systems that prey upon them?
Are you on the side of worldly Power and Dominion, or the side of Love and Justice?
If we are to truly call ourselves “Christians,” then we must have the courage to follow Jesus into the public square and to call out the Herods of our day?
We must have the courage to put our lives on the line to protect the “least of these,” those being preyed upon by the powers that be.
And, we must have the courage to follow Jesus on the journey into Jerusalem, on the way to the cross, walking with him through discomfort and pain, and taking the time to rest under the shadow of God’s wings.