The mothering hen against the crafty fox
Luke 13:31-35
31 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me,[a] ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33 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.’ 34 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! 35 See, your house is left to you.[b] And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when[c] you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ”
A few weeks ago, our neighbors came dinner and presented us with a dozen eggs from their hens that just started laying. With egg prices these days, that is a valuable gift. I noticed the price of lobster and eggs are almost the same at Pinkham's Deli. But I also valued these eggs because I knew a fox had slaughtered their chickens last year, and they were starting from scratch. Raising chickens can be heartbreaking. Hens don't fly or have a lot of defenses against predators, and they are so enticing to eat.
I also saw a little red fox on our property, where he could stake out his maneuvers. He didn't look deadly, but looks are deceiving. Foxes are intelligent and adaptable. They navigate using the earth’s magnetic field, open latches, and trick other animals into traps. Some even learn traffic signals to cross safely. All the folklore about foxes tricking animals to get what they want is based on reality. They are quite cunning.
I wonder if Jesus was drawing on one of the many ancient fables about foxes and hens as he responds to the Pharisees about Herod's threats. My first read of the scripture focused on Jesus' courage to stand his ground as he is warned to leave. Why did Jesus call Herod a fox and compare himself to a mother hen? It doesn't sound flattering to either one!
Our story starts with the Pharisee's warning that Herod wanted to kill Jesus. Herod executed John the Baptist in Luke 9, and when Jesus became popular, Herod worried that John had come back from the dead. Why are the Pharisees warning Jesus? Their relationship was mostly adversarial. The Pharisees accused Jesus of blasphemy and lawbreaking, and he fired back, calling them hypocrites, vipers, blind guides, and unmarked graves. Jesus was not a meek debater! If he had been a settled pastor, I'm sure his Deacons would have told him to cool it. Don't make so many waves; people will get upset. A small group of Pharisees may want to help Jesus, but Jesus didn't say, "Thanks for the warning." When he instructs them to speak with Herod, he makes the point that he knows they are Herod's messengers.
Herod wants to get rid of Jesus, but killing him is problematic. John's execution created dissent, and moving on Jesus might have sparked a rebellion. It's better to threaten and scare him off. This is how tyrants work: make an example of one, and the rest fall in line. It happens in politics, workplaces, even families. Fire one person loudly, and everyone else will get the message. If you step out of line or criticize leadership, they will find a way to put you in your place for everyone to see. Vote the wrong way on the bill, and you will get a primary challenge or lose campaign funding. You know you are playing in Herod's world when your opinion leads to threats and intimidation.
Jesus shows courage when he says,
"Tell that fox that I've no time for him right now. Today, and tomorrow I'm busy clearing out the demons and healing the sick; the third day I'm wrapping things up." (Lk 13:32 – The Message Translation)
Using the word fox cuts Herod down to size. He is not Herod, the Lionhearted, or the Eagle of Galilee. Herod is a sneaky little fox, still dangerous but not all-powerful. Jesus calls the bluff. He is not going to be intimidated by a fox.
Jesus's response teaches us two things about the nature of courage. First, when we feel called to do the right thing or speak an unpopular truth, we tend to inflate the potential opposition so humongous that we lose heart. Out of fear, we turn the fox into a lion in our minds. My first thought when contemplating a challenging situation is to envision the worst possible response. If I tell the truth, people will get angry. I will be fired, I won't be loved anymore. I will be locked in a gulag, and I will die alone and penniless. (See, I'm really good at this game! You can play Catastrophe with me sometime, but I will win.). Our brains have developed a threat detection system to protect us from harm over millions of years. This ancient reptilian part of our brain can't always distinguish between a lion in the grass or a situation that makes us uncomfortable and anxious.
Courage requires us to move beyond instinctive fear. Instead of fight-or-flight reactions, we must assess the situation with clarity. Speaking truth is often braver than fighting. Courage is meeting the moment honestly and saying what needs to be said with clarity and some generosity of spirit never hurts. You can say things perfectly or do precisely the right thing and still get pushback. No good deed goes unpunished. But I have accumulated far more regrets from not speaking up than from saying my piece. For all the angry voices in our world, I think those who know the truth and won't speak up are just as harmful.
Second, clear purpose strengthens courage. When Jesus meets opposition, he returns to his mission statement. He heals people and clears out the demons. Jesus' first sermon in Nazareth spells out that he has come to set people free at multiple levels, heal the sick, and free the captives. This scripture is the ninth time in Luke that Jesus is associated with healing the sick and driving out demons Jesus knows his mission: bringing people to God’s healing love and driving out the demons that deceive us.
Being clear about mission and purpose builds courage when facing adversity. In these challenging times, living by our mission statement is vital. We have discerned and voted to be a church of extravagant welcome, to grow in faith and spirit, cultivating justice and joy. When we are fearful, we must remember who we strive to be. We are an Open and Affirming congregation of LGBTQ+ people. As we see a rise in hateful speech, discrimination, and violence against this community, what might we be called to do besides show acceptance and kindness to people who come to us?
Jesus longs to protect people under threat and uses this lovely image of a hen gathering chicks under her wings. We hope the church is a place of safety, security, and belonging. These qualities of well-being need more than personal inward attitudes; we need tangible community and support. This image of a protective wing is both warm and vulnerable. There are several references in the Old Testament comparing God’s care as eagles’ wings. But Jesus puts us under a chicken wing. He calls Herod a fox and then takes the role of the prey protecting her brood. We might wonder, “Where are the eagles? Where is the "mighty fortress is our God?"
Perhaps Jesus reminds us that the things protecting us are vulnerable and need our support and commitment. A community is held together by shared culture, values, stories and experiences. These are delicate and feathery things. When there is a threat or disagreement, we feel uncertain. Even a tight knit community can be torn apart by fear.
A constitution can create a common story and norms for working out our differences. But it can only create the common good through virtuous citizens. If we allow some to violate it, we no longer believe it can protect us. Fear will quickly turn people against each other. It takes courage to confront the Herods who use fear to protect their wealth and power. It is scary to think that our protection is a mere wing of a mother hen.
We have courage when we love fiercely, but this love makes us vulnerable too. As parents, we love our children and will sacrifice in ways that make us vulnerable. We take risks for those we love. I would do anything for Jeanne and our children. Jesus calls us to extend this courageous and vulnerable love beyond family and friends to anyone who is suffering.
A strength of this congregation is our care for one another. We show up for those in need, offering comfort, meals, and generosity. We strive to be a welcoming church, a refuge of kindness. But courage doesn’t end at these doors. The world outside is growing harsher, more divided. Fear and intimidation thrive when good people remain silent. So, what does this mean for us?
It means we must have the courage to be free—not by the world's standards of power and dominance, but by Jesus' example of fierce love and seeking and defending truth. The foxes of the world will always be there, trying to intimidate, to sow fear, to keep us silent. But Jesus calls us to something greater.
We are called to stand together under the wings of love, not in passive shelter, but in active defiance of fear. To speak up for what is good when it would be easier to stay quiet. To create community when the world chooses division. To build bridges when others are tearing them down.
This is the courage to be free disciples of Christ. This courage that will carry us forward. During our prayer time, reflect on one step you might take to live with more courage. What is hard for you to face? Write it down and put it into our prayer jar. Our courage grows when we share it together.
