Genesis 15.1-12,17-18, Luke 13:22-35
The Second Sunday of Lent, 13 March 2022
Austwick, Keasden
As he turned his face towards the place where he foresaw his trial and execution, Jesus said,
‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem, 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 would not.’
This is a sermon about the way we gather together: in tribes; and it’s focussed on that ultimate arena of tribal gatherings: Jerusalem.
Pilgrims - Jewish, Christian and Muslim - gather in great numbers in Jerusalem today, just as they did back in biblical times. Back then those pilgrims travelled in separate tribes, each of them drawn from the descendants of Abraham’s eight children and the twelve tribes of Israel. And today Jews gather at the wailing wall, whilst those other descendants of Abraham, Muslims, congregate in the Al-Aqsa Mosque, and the international tribe of God’s new Israel, Christians, walk the Via Dolorosa.
Jerusalem gathers the tribes. But the tribes keep apart from each other, each praying in their own place, each staying in their own hostels, huddling together with their faces set against the others, whilst each tribe mirrors the other’s intensity of belief and devoutness, each mimics the others’ desire to claim Jerusalem as their own. This city of holy disunity reminds us that this is the way in which human beings have always gathered - together in tribes, their faces set against other tribes.
This is the way that the world gathers: under a religious sign, under an ideology, under a flag. It has the appearance of being unifying; but it is divisive. It is why Jerusalem is split apart by security walls and checkpoints today, and why in Jesus’ time Herod had his forces on alert, fixated on ensuring that when the tribes gathered in the city, potential troublemakers would be isolated and eliminated.
This is the way of the fox, whose way is always to divide, isolate, attack. Whenever we gather under the sign of a crucifix, or a crescent, or a star, when we do so with our faces set against others, the fox stalks among us. [2]
And as the tribes of the world identify themselves by their hostility to other groups, the prophets of peace and reconciliation who question this way of gathering, are stoned and killed for trying for unity. Jesus is one with them, for he models a different way of gathering: the mother hen who gently lifts her wings so that all Jerusalem’s warring tribes can snuggle under them.
Not the mighty eagle of Exodus, or Hosea’s stealthy leopard; not the proud lion of Judah, mowing down his enemies with a roar. No, the mother hen is what Jesus chooses, which is about as far from a fox as you can get. He makes his options very clear: you can live by licking your chops or you can die protecting the chicks. Jesus won’t be king of the jungle in this or any other story. Jesus will be a mother hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm, who has no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles, just her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. [3]
Now, if you can picture how a mother hen gathers chicks you’ll feel the power in Jesus’ metaphor. Our own efforts at rounding up hens can be pretty chaotic as they scatter all over the place. But a mother hen gathers her chicks easily; with an economy of motion and a few well-chosen clucks of comfort and guidance she draws them to herself - she needs not chase them, they come to her, gladly, for they know that under her wings they’ll find love, warmth and protection. In this same way Jesus looks on the world’s scattered tribes, and longs to shelter us all safely under his wings.
Jesus despaired because the scattered tribes of Jerusalem refused to be gathered together by him. Rather like a diplomat in wartime or mediator in a family dispute, we can appreciate his sadness at the Sadducees fearful of compromising their social standing; at the Pharisees fearful of corrupting their religious purity; the Essenes protecting their precious separateness; the Zealots resisting being accommodated to the system they opposed; the Herodians not wanting to be seen in the same room as Zealot terrorists; and the occupying Romans fearful that any compromise towards the Jews would undermine their power over them. [4]
And so the way of the fox prevailed, in the end, all the way to Calvary. And it is the way of the fox which seems to prevail still in Jerusalem - and in all our Jerusalems - today.
And yet Jerusalem also attracts pilgrims seeking unity, like a group of women from our part of Yorkshire, Christians and Muslims who at home meet together regularly to share experiences and life stories, and who, before the pandemic, took a trip to the Holy Land together, which one later described as ‘filled with spirituality, shared vision, and intense, inspiring conversations’. [5]
And Jerusalem draws together Palestinians and Israelis of all faiths seeking peace; in projects like The Parents Circle-Families Forum, which brings together families bereaved by the conflict in that land, striving towards reconciliation. [6]
This gospel passage asks questions of us, for Jerusalem is a paradigm of our own social world. Are we happy for that city to continue being a place where different tribes set their faces against each other? And closer to home, will we persist in gathering only in our own tribes, clinging to our own dogmas, huddling behind our own flags - Christians and Muslims, Yorkshiremen and Lancastrians, vegans and meat-eaters, anti-vaxxers and pro-jabbers? Or can we commit to looking for the common ground we have with other vulnerable humans, will we give ourselves to learning ways we can shelter together under wings of love, warmth and protection, finding unity in our diversity? Can we give up believing there are some people who don’t belong here and learn instead to say, and show, and celebrate, that we all belong together? [7]
It is possible to turn our hearts towards different others, as those who are on our Deanery Lent Course Living in Love and Faith are discovering, learning to sit alongside and listen well to people with quite contrasting life experiences and perspectives on sexuality, marriage and relationships. [8]
Jesus invites us to learn to embrace the goodness of unity, with our scattered brothers and sisters. For if we pray for the peace of Jerusalem then we pray for every Jerusalem in our world; we pray for our own peace.
So may they prosper - all Jews, Muslims and Christians, who love and gather in Jerusalem. May peace reign among all those within her walls and palaces, for the sake of all pilgrims of the earth, so that God will continue to dwell among us. [9]
John Davies
Notes
This 2022 talk is based on my Scattering and gathering: brooding over Jerusalem, preached in Somerset in 2016.
[1] I am indebted, as ever, to Paul Nuechterlein whose notes and references on this passage have been invaluable in preparing this sermon: Girardian Lectionary, Lent 2C.
[2] This sentence is inspired by Sydney Carter’s song ‘The devil wore a crucifix’, sung here by Franciscus Henri [YouTube]. See my transcript Sydney Carter - reflections [PDF] p.12-13.
[3] Barbara Brown Taylor, Barnyard behavior. The Christian Century, 19 September 2006.
[4] This section borrows from Jesus the Mother Hen, a Sermon on Luke 13:22-35, posted on the Holy Ground Holy Space Facebook page, 25 February 2013. It is unclear, but the author of this passage may be Christianne L. McKee quoting heavily from Barbara Brown Taylor.
[5] Sahera Patel, The Voice of Palestine: An interfaith trip with a difference; see also Chris Tate, Interfaith Weekend in the Shadow of Ingleborough Brings Women Together, Diocese of Leeds website, 3 January 2019.
[6] The Parents Circle-Families Forum (PCFF)
[7] Caroline Sanderson, Author Interviews. Anita Sethi: 'Healing comes from keeping open to the world and to other people’. The Bookseller 22 January 2021; Anita Sethi, I Belong Here: A Journey Along the Backbone of Britain.
[8] The Church of England: Living in Love and Faith.
[9] Patrick Woodhouse, Life in the Psalms, p.39, altered.
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