As a third-year seminary student I did an independent study on preaching to a wide variety of congregations. My advisor would send me a "thing of the week" - a sermon, or text, or something that she thought would help shape my preaching skills. One week was all about chickens - three sermons in which three very different preachers (Lauren Winner, Nadia Bolz-Weber, and Barbara Brown Taylor) take on this week's gospel text. I owe a debt of gratitude to all three of them, and to Christine Parton Burkett who led me through that semester. Although this sermon is completely new, it would not be what it is without the words they have shared.
In another lovely connection to that time, I preached this sermon for the Stewart Health Center at Springmoor Retirement Village. The congregation includes many people with varying degrees of memory loss, along with a variety of other kinds of health problems, and it is a great joy that I get to worship with them once per month. I love them, and I love being able to share... to preach to ALL the people.
Edit: This week 49 Muslims were shot by a white supremacist in New Zealand. It's sickening and frustrating and I know that God continues to cry in anguish at the pain his children cause each other. And yet, the care and protection of God really is open to all: to the Muslims, one as young as 3, who were worshipping God in the best way they know, to the old man who welcomed the shooter and was the first one killed, even to the so-called "Christian" terrorist who clearly was declining the protective love of Christ. For these people and all who are grieving, we pray. For the systems that support the supremacists and their evil, murderous ways, we pray. For the voices of peace that have yet to be heard, we pray. Bring us into your love and care, oh Lord, that we may be sent out to spread that love and confront the forces of evil. Amen.
The lectionary texts for this week are:
Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Luke 13:31-35
Come Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Speak to us, protect us, move us to tumble to you when you call and rejoice that you call everyone. Amen.
PHARISEE.
Such a strange word!
If you have hung around in churches much you probably have some idea of what that word means, and it’s probably something like “those were they guys who were all about the church, but not so much about God… the people who gave Jesus so much trouble.”
There are some good reasons to think that, too! But in today’s passage they seem like decent folks, don’t they? They told Jesus to leave, to go somewhere else, because Herod wanted to kill him! And generally I would say that warning somebody to get out of harm’s way is a good thing.
But in this situation I kind of wonder… did they really want to protect Jesus? Or were they maybe thinking of themselves? Thinking that they would just as soon not have one of their own killed, but they also really liked their good relations with Herod. If Jesus would just go away, all their problems would be solved. Or so they thought. People have thought that for a really long time and it hasn’t worked out. But still. Could that have been what they were thinking? I don’t know!
What we do know is that Jesus said… nawwww… I’m not afraid of that fox! And in saying that, he also lets the Pharisees know that HE knows that they are in cahoots with Herod. That the Pharisees and Herod are pals, more or less. “Go tell him….” With the assumption that they COULD go tell Herod.
Herod, the fox. A sly, cunning man. One who would eat baby chickens for lunch.
But it isn’t just that Herod is a fox, and the Pharisees are in cahoots with him… Jesus continues, characterizing himself as a mother hen, protecting the baby chicks from that old fox. Baby chicks that include the Pharisees who are on such good terms with that old fox.
The Pharisees, who are charged with caring for and loving the people, are not doing it. Instead of responding to Jesus as baby chicks respond to their mother, those Pharisees have invited Herod the fox right into the house where the chickens all live. One might say, in fact, that Jesus is implying that the fox is in charge of the chicken coop.
We know that with God – and therefore with Jesus, nothing is wasted. No part of the stories and parables that Jesus told are accidental. So when Jesus claims that Herod is a fox, we take notice. Foxes are sly and cunning. Herod? Sly and cunning. A fox.
And when Jesus then likens himself to a Mother Hen, we take further notice… what else can we get from this characterization? Foxes eat chickens… but what do chickens do?
So it set me to wondering… what are chickens all about?
Have any of you spent much time with chickens?
Well, I have not. But I know some people who learned a lot about chickens while I was in seminary! For example, did you know that chickens make at least two dozen different vocal sounds? They have different sounds for
* Laying
* Courtship
* Pleasure (a peep AND a trill!)
* Hunger
* Pain
* On and on…
There is even one particular sound that means DANGER! DANGER!
When babies hear that particular sound… that DANGER sound, they react without thinking. They do not sit around and wonder “hmmm… what should I do?” they react by racing and running and tumbling all over each other to get to their mamas. The mama makes that sound, and the chicks instinctively know to come running to safety. The mama has her wing stretched out, the chicks fall under the wing, and there is safety and protection – as much safety and protection as a mama chicken can offer. She is using her own body – her own life – to protect those baby chicks.
I also hear from my friends who grew up around chickens that mother hens are not picky about who they take under their wings. You peek, and you might find a little kitten, or a young squirrel… mama hens protect. They don’t ask a lot of questions about who is taking refuge under their wings.
In a very similar way, we are hard-wired to run like that to God – to Jesus – when there is danger. We were created and born to respond to God’s call to safety, to live the lives that God created us to live. And Jesus is open to everyone… anyone seeking protection.
But in general, we really don’t do it that well. We don’t run tumbling all over ourselves to be cuddled up with Jesus. We even make up reasons why we shouldn’t when we think that somehow we have to do things on our own. And in the greatest puzzle, we get upset when those who are not like us DO take refuge in Jesus! It’s as silly a thing as a baby chick thinking he can take care of himself, that she can be safe standing out in the open where the sly, cunning foxes can track them down and pounce, or that if their mama cares for others she won’t care for the chicks.
So Jesus is in Jerusalem, listening to the Pharisees warn him about Herod, seeing how the people have not turned to the God who loves them so. Jesus is watching and it is breaking his heart. He is doing everything he can but the Pharisees – baby chicks to Jesus the Mother Hen – are saying “Go away! Go away Mama! Leave us alone!”
They don’t see the danger they are in themselves, and the people of Jerusalem are fickle. One minute they are insisting GOD IS OURS and the next they are reporting on him and yelling CRUCIFY HIM! Because Jesus has admitted that God loves others, too, not just the ones who have appropriated all things religious for themselves.
Another chicken – this time a rooster – is the herald of betrayal that reminds Peter that he has denied the very one that he earlier called the Messiah. Another chick saying GO. AWAY. MAMA!
We are created to run and tumble and cling to and hide in Jesus… and yet… that is the exact thing we do not do.
Now, you might be sitting there thinking “this is very strange, this talk of Jesus as a mother hen!” And you might have good reasons for thinking that! But if we can talk about Jesus as a Good Shepherd then why not a Mother Hen?
There is much that is interesting about Mother Hens:
* They have friendships
* When their friends die, they mourn.
* We eat them (A LOT!) and eating chicken can help keep us healthy.
* And they have been domesticated for 5000 years!
So also with Jesus:
* He had friends – close friends that he loved
* When his friends died, he mourned. Remember Lazarus? And how seeing Mary cry over Lazarus made Jesus cry?
* We eat Jesus (A LOT!) in Holy Communion – and doing so supports our spiritual health.
* And for 2000 years we have tried hard to domesticate Jesus.
And we behave like baby chicks who are standing out among the foxes, exposing our tender selves instead of tumbling as fast as we can to Jesus.
We give in to the temptation to prioritize politics – the Herod of our day – instead of taking refuge in Jesus and loving one another unconditionally.
We forsake the message of Jesus in an attempt to garner power and safety that we simply cannot find, except in Jesus.
We forget that Jesus did all the work, so we have a place to go be safe and loved and together.
A mother hen does not stop loving her babies, even if they defiantly (or innocently) (or just plain foolishly) refuse to huddle under her wings, and in the same way Jesus has never stopped loving us.
On the cross Jesus, our Mother Hen, spreads out his arms, exposing himself like a chicken exposes herself when lifting her wings to hide her babies – any babies.
After his Resurrection, Jesus reached out his hands to show the disciples his wounds, proof that he was totally human, had actually died, and was now completely alive again – fully human and fully divine.
Through the example of his life, his death on the cross, and most importantly in his resurrection, you, personally and as a community, can know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing that will make Jesus stop loving you, calling you, reaching out in the most vulnerable of positions, calling you out of danger and into the safety of his love… protecting each of us and all of us from the foxes of our day.
Yes, our Savior is like a mother hen who has offered her whole body to love us.
Come join the love in those Resurrected wings.
Amen.
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