Our Mother Hen

February 24^th, 2013      “Our Mother Hen”       Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 13:31-35 and Psalm 27

          Our Gospel reading for this morning is one of my favorite passages.  In the text, Jesus is approached by the Pharisees who suddenly seem to be watching out for him and they give him a warning, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”  We may be tempted to think that the Pharisees are now on Jesus’ side but that is most likely not the case, once more they are simply trying to stir up trouble. 

Jesus’ reply to them to is to tell them to send a message to Herod “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 outside of Jerusalem.”

          Jesus compares Herod to a fox, a cunning predator.  One could argue that he is referring to the Pharisees as foxes as well for we have seen their cunning action throughout the gospel.  Jesus always has his greatest run-ins with those within the church itself; not outsiders like Herod and Rome.

          After his warning for Herod, Jesus laments over Jerusalem and God’s love for the city.  “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!” Jesus says with passion.  “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”  Jesus laments as one whose love has been scorned, one whose care has been rejected.

          In her wonderful sermon on this passage, preacher Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “At risk to his own life, Jesus has brought the precious kingdom of God within reach of the beloved city of God, but the city of God is not interested.  Jerusalem has better things to do than to hide under the shelter of this mother hen’s wings.  It has a fox as its head, who commands a great deal more respect.  Consider the contrast: Jesus has disciples; Herod has soldiers.  Jesus serves; Herod rules.  Jesus prays for his enemies; Herod kills his.  In a contest between a fox and a chicken, whom would you bet on?”

I am sure that when it comes to this image of Jesus some of us would like to take a bit of creative license with the passage; if we are going to imagine Jesus as a barnyard bird how about a rooster, rather than a hen?  A rooster is stronger, tougher, and he can defend himself.  A Rooster has sharp spikes on the back of his feet that work like talons on anyone who bothers him.  He can also peck pretty hard, and he does not wait for you to peck first.  People have rooster fights for sport.  Has anyone ever heard of placing bets on a fight between docile mother hens?

          Again, Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us that “Jesus did not liken himself to a rooster.  He likens himself to a brooding hen, whose chief purpose in life is to protect her young.  He is a like a mother hen, with nothing much in the way of a beak and nothing at all in the way of talons.  About all she can do is fluff herself up and sit on her chicks.  She can also put herself between them and the fox, as ill-equipped as she is.  At the very least, she can hope that she satisfies his appetite so that he leaves her babies alone.”

          “How do you like that image of God?  If you are like me, it is fine in terms of comfort; who doesn’t want to run to a mother’s warm and loving embrace?  But in terms of protection, this image certainly leaves something to be desired.  When the foxes of this world start prowling really close to home, when you can hear then sniffing right outside the door, then it would be nice to have a bigger defense for the hen house.”

          Barbara raises a serious point.  Just who is the one with real power in this scenario?  It is no wonder that we often associate Fathering images with God rather than Mothering ones.  A Father is one who protects and cares for us, not one who cuddles and loves. 

And yet, Jesus’ use of mothering imagery here is not as foreign as it may seem.  In Hosea, God speaks of his protection for Israel using the imagery of a mother bear and her cubs.  In Isaiah, God speaks of Israel as a child of God’s womb who has nursed at God’s breast.  In Isaiah we also read a passage similar to Jesus voice here in Luke, “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.”  Now, I’m not saying God is a woman any more than I would say that God is a man.  I’m just saying the Biblical imagery for God as mother is there. 

In our reading from the Psalms we also hear of the parental love of God.  Devoid of gender language, God is the one who the psalmist looks to for protection and comfort.  God will hide us in shelter, conceal us under a tent or place us high above our enemies on a rock.  God is the one who will protect us and as the Psalmist asks, with God on our side, why should we be afraid.  In a wonderful turn of phrase the psalmist tells us that God will love us even when our parents do not.  “If my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will take me up.”  It does not take gender to understand the love of a parent in this writing.  In any form, God keeps us safe and lifts us up in love.

In this scripture reading, Jesus resorts to mothering imagery to describe the love of God and perhaps also to describe his role in the grand order of things.  Jesus has come to protect the chicks from the foxes but he refuses to resort to violence.  When Herod and his troops come after Jesus and his brood, Jesus does not respond with violence of his own.  Instead he just put himself between them and the chicks all fluffed up and hunkered down like a mother hen.

          Again, in wonderful imagery, Barbara Brown Taylor writes that “It may have looked like a minor skirmish to those who were there, but that contest between the chicken and the fox turned out to be the cosmic battle of all time, in which the power of tooth and fang was put up against the power of a mother’s love for her chicks.  And God bet the farm on the hen.”

          “Depending on whom you believe, she won.  It did not look that way at first, with feathers all over the place and chicks running for cover.  But as time went on, it became clear what she had done.  She had refused to run from the foxes, and she had refused to become one of them.  Having loved her own who were in the world, she loved them to the end.  She died a mother hen, and afterwards she came back to them with teeth marks on her body to make sure they got the point: that the power of the foxes could not kill her love for them, nor could it steal them away from her.  They might have to go through what she went through in order to get past the foxes, but she would be waiting for them on the other side, with love stronger than death.” 

          It’s powerful imagery of a passionate and deep love.  For some of us, to think of the love of God as a mother’s love can be too much of a challenge.  That’s OK.  Just plug your ears and let this sermon go.  But for others of us, to think of God’s love in female imagery can be freeing and empowering. 

          When I was serving in rural Washington State, this language was a great barrier for many.  I wouldn’t preach this sermon there, it’s too much and wouldn’t be pastoral in that community.  But while I was there, I shared this idea with people in smaller settings.  One day I even brought this idea to a nursing home.  We were discussing the Lord’s Prayer and I was exploring parental language with several elderly ladies.  I asked them, “What would it be like to think of God as, “Our Mother who art in heaven”?  A 100 year old lady, turned to me in astonishment and said, “A mother is always there.”  Perhaps we don’t realize that we can be limited by our familiar language, just as we are comforted.

          During this Lenten season, we called to reflect on the ways we have turned from God.  We are called to reflect on the ways we have rejected the voice and love of God in our world.  We are often like the city of Jerusalem which is just too busy for a mother hen.  Or perhaps we are simply looking for something else from our God, unable to accept this image of self-sacrificial love. 

During this Lenten season let us consider how we have been unwilling to go to God in any way we might imagine God to be.  How often has Jesus desired to gather us children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and we were not willing?  How have we turned from the love of our Abba, Father?   As we journey through Lent together, let us be reflective upon this love, however we feel it expressed.  Amen.