Don Friesen
Like most of you, I had four grandparents. One of them died in 1923, another died in 1932, but the two remaining grandparents -- the only ones I knew -- were a study in contrast. My grandfather, as I remember him through a child's eyes, appeared a hard man. I don't remember him ever smiling, and in all the pictures I have of him he is scowling. I recall appearing before him one Christmas, having been granted a brief audience, but I got the impression that he didn't enjoy it any more than I did. He came across as an unwelcoming and formidable presence. My grandmother, on the other hand -- and on the other side of the family -- was very different. I especially remember her twinkly eyes and her soft-spoken demeanor, tinged with a very gentle, self-deprecating humour. Members of the family gathered around her because they wanted to be with her, whereas I got the impression that members of my grandfather's family gathered around him only when summoned!
Chased by Foxes, Gathered by Hens
Our Gospel reading also contains a study in contrast. It also concerns two people -- Jesus, and King Herod, whom Jesus likens to a fox! Jesus had been going through towns and villages, teaching people on his way to Jerusalem (Luke 13:22), when he received a death threat. Some Pharisees came to him and said, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you." (13:31) Paranoia came easily to Herod; he already had the blood of Jesus' cousin, John, on his hands, and if he could intimidate Jesus before Jesus even arrived in Jerusalem -- well, that's how foxes do things!
Jesus as much as told Herod to take a hike! (Luke 13:32) Jesus had a date with destiny in Jerusalem, and wily as Herod might be, Jesus was not to be deterred. The incident must have filled him with sadness, however, for he began to reflect on the untimely death prophets often met in Jerusalem, saying, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!" (13:34)
Having called Herod a fox, Jesus chooses to portray himself as a chicken! A hen! It's not a very comfortable comparison, for foxes visit hen houses and the result is not a pretty picture! A hen is a natural victim of the predatory fox, though a hen will go to great lengths to protect her flock, even at great risk to herself. A hen has no fangs claws or rippling muscles with which to protect her flock, but she will stand between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm, with nothing but her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them, he will have to kill her first! The contrast between the fox and the hen is quite telling:
God Loves to Gather
The Scriptures are fond of gathering, for God, it appears, is a gathering God. God loves to gather. "Gather to me my faithful ones, who made a covenant with me...," say the psalms. (Psalms 50:5) They speak lovingly of "those (God has) redeemed from trouble and gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south." (Psalms 107:2-3) They speak often of God gathering the "outcasts of Israel" (Psalms 147:2; Isaiah 11:12), gathering them "from the farthest parts of the earth...." (Jeremiah 31:8)
In the Old Testament book of Isaiah God says, with regret, "For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with great compassion I will gather you." (Isaiah 54:7) And then, of course, that wonderful passage from Isaiah 40, picturing God as One who "will feed his flock like a shepherd; ...gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep." (Isaiah 40:11) Similarly, in the book of Jeremiah, God says, "I myself will gather the remnant of my flock..., and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply." (Jeremiah 23:3)
The metaphor for gathering often used in the Bible is that of a shepherd gathering his flock, but not always. Jesus' use of a hen to evoke the same image is not without precedent. The psalmist appeals to God, "Hide me in the shadow of thy wings." (Psalm 17:8) "In the shadow of thy wings I will take refuge till the storms of destruction pass by." (Psalm 57:1, RSV) "Oh to be safe under the shelter of thy wings," says another psalm. (Psalm 61:4, RSV) "In the shadow of your wings I sing for joy," says yet another. (Psalm 63:7) "Under his wings you will find refuge," says Psalm 91 (91:4), bringing to mind the old gospel song:
"Under His wings I am safely abiding;
Under His wings, under His wings,
("Under His Wings," words by William Orcutt Cushing; music by Ira David Sankey)
What a comforting image -- the protective wings of God! It's an image that fits Jesus. Jesus was a gatherer: he gathered disciples; he gathered crowds -- large crowds! When he spoke, people gathered around to listen. They weren't there out of coercion; they were there because Jesus had an attractive, winsome way about him. He also told stories about gathering, stories of God gathering prodigals, tax-collectors, prostitutes, Samaritans -- outcasts of one sort or another, but who were embraced by his love.
Jesus said, when comparing himself to a mother chicken, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, ... How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings...." (13:34) Several other translations use the word, "longing" -- "How often have I longed to gather your children round me...." (NIV; Philipps; NEB; JER) A more colloquial translation reads, "How many times I wanted to put my arms around (you)...." (TEV)
There is a depth of compassion that comes through in his words. Even though tinged with lament, and expressed in the context of great danger, Jesus longs for Jerusalem's redemption. In fact, later in Luke we read that Jesus wept over the city. (Luke 19:41) Jerusalem will not treat Jesus kindly in the weeks to follow, but rather than turn his back on them or abandon them or treat them as a fox might, Jesus likens himself to a mother, gathering her loved ones and holding their welfare to her heart.
This week marks five years since Dorothy's mother died, and in the weeks prior to her death her family gathered round her. Her death was thought to be imminent, but once the entire family had gathered she lingered for some time, seeming to enjoy one last time with her brood. Such is the love of God -- God longing to be with us, His love and compassion attracting and enveloping us.
A Tender God Inspires our own Tenderness
Meister Eckhart (c.1260-1326), a thirteenth century Christian mystic who played a leading pastoral and organizational role in the Dominican Order, said, "You may call God love, you may call God goodness. But the best name for God is compassion." The Greek word translated as "compassionate" can also mean a "tender heart". Perhaps it's what some people derisively refer to as a "bleeding heart," unaware that the term has its roots in Christian piety -- a picture of Jesus with a heart on his tunic, a drop of blood coming from it, revealing Jesus as tender-hearted. Jesus cared about others with the same passion with which he faced death. I hope that the next movie Mel Gibson produces is about the Com-passion of the Christ, for God's tenderness -- Christ's tenderness -- inspires our own tenderness.
Years ago I took a course on "Death and Dying" at Saint Paul University, and among other things, learned about a woman named Cicely Saunders (1918-). Saunders entered Oxford University in the 1940s, but had little idea about her direction in life. At Oxford she came under the influence of a colourful professor of English -- C.S. Lewis -- and became a Christian through his influence. She left Oxford, against the advice of friends and family, and began to study nursing. After five years of rigorous training, she found work on a cancer ward in a London hospital. She noticed that doctors generally ignored patients who were terminally ill. She watched many of them die alone, and it troubled her. She developed ideas to remedy this situation, but those ideas were flatly rejected by the hospital administration. Undaunted, Saunders enrolled in medical school herself, quite aware that she wouldn't graduate until she was almost 40! Ten years after her graduation, she founded St Christopher's Hospice (1967) to provide care for patients with incurable diseases. Her vision for surrounding those dying of cancer with friends and loved ones during their last days, rather than isolating them in sterile rooms with strangers, had become a reality. It was a vision born out of her Christian compassion, and since then the hospice movement has spread throughout the world.
A hen may seem a very vulnerable being, but there is incredible power and inspiration in the power of love. May Jesus' example inspire our own tenderness and compassion. AMEN
A hen acts as a sanctuary; a fox does not!
A hen attracts a flock, whereas I've never heard of a flock of foxes!
A fox disperses. A hen gathers.
Tho' the night deepens and the tempests are wild,
Still I can trust Him; I know He will keep me;
He has redeemed me, and I am His child.
Who from His love can sever?
Under His wings my soul shall abide,
Safely abide forever.
...
Sheltered, protected, no evil can harm me;
Resting in Jesus, I'm safe evermore."
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.