March 13, 2022
Hope Lutheran Church
Rev. Mary Erickson
Luke 13:31-35
Under the Wings of Grace
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
“How often I have desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
There’s a saying: herding cats. Cats don’t take to herding. You can herd cattle and goats and many other animals, but cats just won’t do it.
We use the expression “It’s like herding cats” when we try to organize or control a broad group of people. They’ve got their own opinions and they won’t be persuaded.
Jesus laments Jerusalem because they won’t be gathered, even for their own good. But gathering Jerusalem under his protective wings is like herding cats. They won’t come.
Our reading today from Luke begins with an encounter between Jesus and some Pharisees. At this time Jesus is still engaged in his ministries in the northern region of Galilee.
Galilee was under the jurisdiction of Herod Antipas. He’s the son of Herod the Great. He’s the same man who also ordered the beheading of John the Baptist.
The Pharisees approached Jesus to warn him about Herod. “Herod wants to kill you,” they say, “Get out of here!”
Interestingly, Jesus is planning to get out of Galilee, but not quite yet. Already Jesus has resolutely set his sights on Jerusalem. He has an appointment awaiting him there. But he still has a few things to accomplish in Galilee before he departs.
The Pharisees urge Jesus to flee Galilee now. They tell Jesus to escape before he’s killed by Herod. Jesus is planning to leave Galilee, but his departure will be according to his own timetable. And when he does leave, it won’t be to avoid death; it’ll be so that he can die in Jerusalem.
Jesus lets the Pharisees know that he’ll be leaving because every prophet must be killed in Jerusalem. Jesus’ thoughts turn towards his destination in Jerusalem.
“Ah, Jerusalem!” Jesus laments. “Jerusalem,” he cries, “How much I yearn to gather you under my gracious wings. But you have murder on your heart.”
Jesus’ lament of Jerusalem tells us two significant things. First of all, it reveals something about ourselves, about our inner human nature. And secondly, it tells us something even more significant about Jesus.
Jesus laments Jerusalem’s recalcitrant nature. They have a long, checkered history with the prophets God sent to them. God sent prophets to the people of Israel out of caring concern.
When you care for someone, you warn them about dangerous things. We probably all have familiar tapes in our heads of the things our parents warned us about:
• Don’t run with scissors!
• Wear a helmet when you ride your bike!
• Careful! You’ll put your eye out!
• Stop horsing around! It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.
These statements sound harsh. But they’re said out of love and concern. These warnings are meant for our best welfare. When we’re on a bad track, we need correction for our own good.
That’s why God sent prophets to Israel. They’d strayed off course. They forgot the path of justice. Their eyes strayed in directions away from devotion to the God who established a lasting covenant with them.
But it was like herding cats. Israel wouldn’t listen to them. Just the opposite. They vilified and abused the prophets.
This is exactly the truth about our human condition. We’re stuck in a quagmire. Something deep inside us is contrary and stubborn. Even when we know something is good for us, we reject it.
• It’s the good advice that you just can’t take
• It’s the helping hand that you refuse out of pride
• It’s the prudent choice that you recklessly ignore
• Even when you know that it’s right, you just can’t bring yourself to admit it
“Oh, Jerusalem, how often I’ve wanted to gather you under my protective wings, but you refused.”
In his lament, Jesus so poignantly described our broken, sinful nature. Something deep inside us has set its bearings on a wayward, contrary path.
St. Paul discussed this same tendency when he wrote to the Romans. He recognized a stubborn, defiant character alive and well within himself. Here’s how he described it in the contemporary rendering of The Message Bible:
“I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up.” (Romans 7:18-21)
No wonder we’re like herding cats. It’s sin that’s wrangled us. It’s lassoed and tied us off. There’s no getting free from its control.
Paul knows he’s bound to this corrupted inner will. He can only conclude on his hopeless condition, “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”
Jesus’ lament for Jerusalem speaks to our tragically broken natures. We’re like chicks who refuse the protection and warmth of their mother hen’s wings.
But this passage also speaks volumes about Jesus’ nature. Jesus knows full well what will happen when he reaches Jerusalem. He’ll receive the fate of every prophet in Jerusalem. He’ll be scorned, rejected and killed. But in spite of this outcome, Jesus keeps his eyes fixed on his goal.
Jesus knows that Jerusalem will reject him. The cheers of Palm Sunday will turn into jeers on Good Friday. He knows his own people will despise and turn on him. And yet he moves forward.
Despite our rejection, Christ goes willingly to the cross. And he goes for our sake. He goes there out of care and concern for the very people who reject him. He goes because God so loved the world.
Jesus continues steadfastly on his way to Jerusalem to his appointment with the cross. And when he arrives, there, like a mother hen, he will spread his arms wide on his cross. He’ll reach out to gather in all the recalcitrant and contrary souls of humanity. And his dying will show us the measure of God’s love. God’s love is greater than our resistance. Jesus’ death demonstrates that nothing in all of creation can separate us from the love of God through Christ Jesus our Lord – not even ourselves.
