Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18 • Psalm 27 • Philippians 3:17-4:1 • Luke 13:31-35
"At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to [Jesus], ‘Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’ 32He said to them, ‘Go and tell that fox for me, 'Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem.' 34Jerusalem, 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! 35See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, 'Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'"
These sworn enemies had no business talking to each other.
Thirty years ago, they would have shot one another if they had been standing this close. But now as they stood there talking, Dan and Tran were crossing the barriers of nationality, of war, of physical and emotional pain, and of language that up until that moment had separated them.
Dan and Tran had served in the armies of their respective countries during the Vietnam War. Dan had returned to this country on a mission: to find healing from the ghosts of this country that had haunted him since he left. Dan returned to Vietnam in 1998 on a 16-day 1100 mile bicycle expedition sponsored by World T.E.A.M. Sports, an organization that focuses on events for the disabled. This pilgrimage went from the north of Ha Noi to Ho Chih Minh City in the south. The ride included war veterans from both the U.S. and Vietnam who were disabled after the war. Those without legs used hand-powered bikes, and blind riders pedaled at the back of tandem bikes. As they made their way through this landscape where they had tried to kill each other to stay alive, Dan and Tran stopped by the side of the road one day, and a small crowd of some local Vietnamese gathered around them. Dan and Tran both discovered they had their right legs amputated in the war. They found many other things in common: a sense of humor; passion for running and the pain of their past. Now, on this ride of reconciliation, they had become friends. One bystander in the crowd spoke up and said, “You two are like two peas in a pod!” Little did Tran realize that he would once again see his “pod” several months later, when Dan brought him to his home in Sioux Falls. Tran was surprised to learn Dan took care of him getting a new prosthetic leg, and he also arranged for him to speak at a local high school, so Tran could share his story of once hating Americans, but that he now no longer saw them as the enemy. He had made a friend. This was now a place full of “peas in a pod” just like him.
Dan and Tran found reconciliation in this story that is featured in the documentary Vietnam, Long Time Coming (1998). (Click here to watch the film.) Jesus knew lots about this kind of relationship: he had lots of enemies too who hated and resented him. But through his reconciling love, he still wanted to become “peas in a pod” with them. Jesus actually uses another phrase to talk about his enemies. He didn’t call them “two peas in a pod”. Jesus calls his enemies—and his friends—“two chicks, both together under my mother-hen wings.”
Jesus uses this animal imagery for his worst enemies not while he’s even looking at them and can see their faces. He speaks these words before he has even met them. As Jesus’ ministry makes its way from the Galilean countryside to Jerusalem, it heads towards a city that cannot stand what he stands for, where their god is themselves and where it sees glory in its own inequity and its corrupt, bullying religious and political power. Before he even gets there, though, Jesus gets word that Herod wants to stop him. For Jesus this isn’t the time to stop, hide and worry about a petty fox like Herod. Not when the lion’s den of Jerusalem is crying with suffering, injustice and violence. He continues on, to complete his work—to undertake his journey of reconciliation with those who hate him—a journey that will ultimately cast out our demons and cure our heartache. This is what he has come to do. But on his way Jesus asks, “[But oh, why do I have to do this, Jerusalem?...Why must you and I be enemies…] How often have I desired to gather you together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Luke 13:34)
Yes, Jerusalem is not willing to receive what Jesus offers. We too do not want what Jesus offers. We all are enemies of Christ. We have sought out power, control and coercion, rather than his love, humility and truth. We have sought shelter under the shade of the fox and the lion, rather than the hen. But Jesus does not close his wings as he spreads them out with a desire to embrace us. Jesus longs, hopes, yearns, and desires to gather us his chicks under his wings. Anyone who has loved someone else whom they cannot protect knows that no matter how wide we spread our wings, it’s not up to us whether we are trusted enough for someone else to take comfort in the shelter of what we offer. That open stance is the stance that Jesus takes as our mother hen: with open wings, bared chest...and the wait to see if we the chicks trust him enough to waddle over to under the safety of his wings. Amazingly, this Savior’s wings don’t just want to gather chicks under them. Jesus desires to gather lions under his wings, because these are wings big enough to embrace them all. In fact, Jesus’ mother-hen wings are big enough to turn the fox and lion into a chick!
As Jesus laments the city of Jerusalem, the city crying for his redemption, we will see Jesus take that stance again, when he goes to the city, when the lions try to use force to put this mother-hen aside….Jesus will outstretch those arms on a cross. And at that moment, Jesus will not just open himself up to be “two peas in a pod with us”. Jesus will open up his arms to make us…and our enemies chicks under his wings. Jesus has come for us all. We all will be chicks at the foot of his cross; friend and enemy alike.
I wonder if there is any more difficult teaching of Jesus to follow than to love our enemies. Thankfully, Jesus’ love for them makes it much easier. We can love those who are different from us, those politically opposed to us, those who have broken covenants with us and love them as Jesus loves them. We can love them with the same chick-love Jesus had for Jerusalem; love that Dan and Tran had found in Vietnam for each other. This Lenten season, even as we lament our separation from God and from one another; even as we see Jesus looking at us and weeping at our resistance to hear the quiet witness of suffering love, Jesus makes his Lenten journey of reconciliation with us once again so he may bring his redeeming love to the whole world. In so doing, Jesus turns even lions, even foxes, even our worst enemies, into our fellow chicks. May we have the courage to risk taking the journey to gather together under the wings of Jesus with Dan, with Tran, with friend and with enemy alike. Amen.
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