Christ Our Mother Hen

Lent 2C

February 24, 2013

Luke 13:31-35

At the end of the movie Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood’s character confronts a group of gang members who had been involved with the assault of the young woman who lived next door to him.  After an exchange of some obscenities between Eastwood and the gang members, he reaches into his pocket and grabs a cigarette, then he asks if anyone has a light.  After receiving no response, he responds that he has a light and then reaches into his coat pocket while quietly reciting a Hail Mary, knowing what is going to happen next.  Bullets fly from the guns of the gang members, killing Eastwood, who falls backwards and lands on his back, with his arms open and a lighter in his right hand.  But in this act of giving his life, he saved the lives of his next door neighbors, whom he originally despised but had later come to see as his family.

Clint Eastwood would probably not be thrilled with me for this, but in this scene, he acts as sort of a mother hen.  He knew when he pulled up to the house of the gang members that he would not return home, but his sense as a protector of his neighbors overrode any sense of self preservation.  And that’s what a mother hen does.  When confronted with a dangerous opponent, such as a fox, a mother hen’s first instinct is to protect her chicks.  She knows that against the fox, she will not be victorious, but she gathers her chicks under her wings, puffs out her chest and spreads her wings, and fights until the death to save her children.  It’s a natural instinct that she doesn’t have to think about, she just does it with no thought of saving herself. 

It’s a valiant trait.  And yet, in a society that has become so masculinized with the Clint Eastwoods, and the Bruce Willises, and in a church where the “good ol’ boys club” still reigns in some places, to hear a man, particularly a divine man like Jesus, refer to himself as a mother hen, or any other feminine image, seems off.  But it shouldn’t be that way, God should not be kept inside of a box of masculinity.  For many times in scripture, God is referred to in the feminine sense, as a mother comforting her child (Isa 66:13), as a mother bear (Hosea 13:8), as the one in whose image woman was made alongside man (Gen 1:27).   So it shouldn’t cause a double take when we hear Jesus’ words in this Gospel text: “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” 

How often have I desired to protect you from each other and from yourselves…and yet you ran away.  

In these words I see the face of a parent whose child has just uttered the words “I hate you” after the parent has made a decision or issued a consequence that is in the best interest of the child, but in that moment the only child sees a parent out to get them and keep them from having fun.

Now imagine that on a divine scale.  Instead of just one child uttering the words “I hate you” or “I’m not listening” or “I’m never trusting you again,” imagine thousands upon thousands saying that simultaneously.  Meanwhile, other children pretend to listen, but are acting out in unimaginable ways, doing unthinkable things, things that are the exact opposite of what they should be doing.  And all of them live in one city.  Now, to be fair, there are the good and faithful ones…there always are.  But quite often these are the ones who have been bullied and beaten, some even killed.  “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Jerusalem, Jerusalem. 

Jerusalem was a chosen city, one that God promised to the ancestors.  But it was also a broken city.  It had suffered great hardship, been the place where prophets had been killed for bringing the word of God to a people that didn’t want to hear it.  It was a place where many evil things happened, where people turned away from God and towards idols that they thought could do a better job than God was doing.   

And with Herod as a puppet ruler stationed there by Rome, and known for his fox-like slyness and cunning…as well as his cruelty, life on the whole wasn’t going to get any easier. 

But, you know, as often as the people of Jerusalem threw out God’s expectations in exchange for their own…as often as they kicked God to the curb…God never abandoned Jerusalem.  When the people killed the prophets, God sent more, when the city was sacked and destroyed, God sent folks to rebuild and bring the people back together.  And though the people continued to stray and turn their backs on God, God herself went into that city, knowing exactly what happened to prophets and others sent to it, determined as ever to meet the sinfulness of that city with the fullness of God’s grace.  God knew and knows that the most genuine form of love cannot force anyone to love you back, but God kept on and keeps on loving, knowing that not all of the chicks are gonna come running to the warmth and security of mother hen’s nest.  Some are going to prefer the false security of the fox.

When the Pharisees warned Jesus that Herod desired to kill him, it became pretty clear that things were not going to end well for Jesus.  They never seemed to for prophets going into Jerusalem on a mission from God.  The only way it could have ended well would have been if Jesus had fallen prey to the Pharisee’s test and walked away, leaving it all behind and saying good riddance. 

But he didn’t.

Jesus knew what God knew and his face had already been set towards Jerusalem.  There was no turning back.  Jesus was determined to be the vehicle through which, once again, God’s faithfulness and grace would meet the people’s sinfulness square in the face and overcome it.  And though he laments over Jerusalem, he does so with the determination of a parent who will stop at nothing to protect his children…fighting to the death so that the children could have a fighting chance at life.  There was no sense of self-preservation, just an instinct to protect as a mother hen protects her chicks…knowing that that kind of love means coming to terms with acknowledging that you can’t force the chicks into the nest no matter how hard you try. 

In just less than 5 weeks, we will become witness to the full extent of the mother hen for her children as we will bear witness to a crucifixion.  And we will see as the mother hen spreads her arms and exposes her chest, inviting her chicks to come and seek protection in the nest.  And we will watch as many of them run away, preferring the perceived safety of the fox to the actual security and life found in the mother hens nest. 

But this mother hen isn’t defeated, not even by death itself.  And she will keep loving and keep the invitation open to all the chicks, even and especially the ones that have fled, until each and every one are safe in the nest, away from the foxes and wolves, clothed in the warmth of the mother hen’s embrace.