Sunday, February 21, 2010

The Hen is my strength

I played preacher again this morning. Below is the text. I borrowed the first part about Lent from my blog post on Lent, so you may find it a bit redundant. I'll try to post the audio later this week, but my fiancee's grandmother died this past week, so I'm heading to Michigan tomorrow for the funeral. Please pray for the Nichols family.


Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Hold on.
Let go.
Hold on.
Let go.

(Pause)

Holding on and Letting go is our theme for Lent this year. Lent is the time in the Christian Liturgical calendar that includes 40 days (that number doesn't include Sundays) that start today and end during Holy Week. Since early Christian church history, new converts to the faith have gotten baptized at Easter. Before doing so, however, these "catechumens" had to go through intense instruction, mentoring, practice in the spiritual disciplines, etc. This time of spiritual formation was especially rigorous the six weeks prior to baptism.

The common lectionary reflects this feeling of conversion. In year A (the lectionary goes through a 3 year cycle. Year A was 2008.) The chosen scriptures go through stories of conversions: Nicodemus, the Samaritan Woman, the man born blind, Lazarus of Bethany, etc.

The church would not want to leave out the rest of the believers or let them off the hook. While the catechumens were going through spiritual formation and preparing themselves for baptism, the rest of the people in the church were reflecting on their own spiritual journeys and pushing themselves forward toward new spiritual growth through much of the same discipline the seekers participate in. Year B (2009) and Year C (2010) reflect this spiritual reminder of sorts by going through the story of the covenant from Noah to Abraham, Moses and the prophets, all the way to Jesus in Year B and a group of stories where wandering believers are called to return to God in Year C.

If you intensely follow the scriptures, there's a very dramatic, emotional feel that happens over the course of Lent, and it starts at Ash wednesday, when Christians rub dirt on their foreheads. I like the way Peter Mazar so eloquently puts it in the introduction to A Lent Sourcebook:

"Lent is not tidy. Days grow longer (the word “Lent” comes from “lengthen”), the ground thaws, and the next thing we know, everything is filthy. Our windows need washing, our temples need cleansing, the earth itself needs a good bath. The English names for these months come from ancient words that reflect the need to roll up our sleeves this season: February (“purification”) and March (“the spirit of war”). Good names. Winter doesn’t leave without blustery battles that push things over and mess things up and even break things. Lent, if we face it honestly, will leave the landscape littered with bits and pieces of ourselves.

Sometimes the only antidote is to take more of the poison. And so on our foreheads we rub dirt: Eden gone to ashes, the dustbin emptied of a winter’s worth of soot, last year’s leaves riddled with worms, the broken earth turned by the plow, the dry earth thirsty for waters to make it clay of a new creation..."
Even the seasons feel the emotional changes! And so the church does the work of guiding us through. In a sense, the whole church-- both baptized and not yet baptized-- is participating in a disciplined revival during Lent, yearly preparing themselves for the return of the crucified Christ.

Hence, we do things like fasting: Fish sandwiches go on sale at McDonalds because no meat is to be eaten on Fridays, people get drunk for Mardi Gras because no partying will be allowed during lent, and everyone scrambles to figure out just what they're going to give up during lent.

In the Leader magazine, the Worship Resource Team introduces:
"...Lent is an opportunity to draw near to God, to ponder God's words to us in Scripture, to hold close what we value, and to identify with Jesus in his mission. Jesus' self giving on the cross is a powerful metaphor for our call to turn away from the temptation to make ourselves the center of the universe and choose instead a life of sacrificial love in the world."

Sacrificial love is something that is reflected in the Luke 13 Passage. To understand this, I'd like to unpack this passage a bit. (I used the NRSV in my studying, so it might be a little different from what we read. Sorry for the confusion.)

Verse 31 starts: "At that very hour" What was happening that very hour? We know that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, a journey that started back in Chapter 9 verse 51: "When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem."

It seems this journey is not only a physical, literal journey to the Holy City, but it also has a deep metaphorical significance. Jesus is journeying to a painful death and ultimately to his resurrection. We'll see an example in a little bit, but everything has this kind of points to the passion, to the cross. Jesus has "set his face," set his purpose. His eye is on the prize (or maybe the punishment. I don't know)

The journey isn't just a "giddyup and go to Jerusalem lets get 'er done" journey, though. This is a big chunk of the book of Luke. Jesus is using this journey to evangelize and teach as he goes and there a bunch of stories to go along with it. That's the first thing I want you to notice. The Journey-- Kind of like the Journey Christians are on during Lent.

Back to chapter 13, Jesus is teaching in these synagogues telling parables and telling people about what the kingdom of looks like, then starting at verse ten he has this incident where he heals this woman on a sabbath and the leader of the synagogue speaks out against it, Jesus to call him a hypocrite. Then just before verse 31 ("At that very hour") Jesus is talking about the Kingdom and he says "Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last." You might say that Jesus is telling some of these pious religious strict law-abiding Pharisees that they aren't going to win in the Kingdom of God. It will be the lowlies-- the underdogs. The mamzers (remember Mamzers?).

You start to get the sense that there's some tension present between Jesus and the Pharisees. That's the second thing I want you to notice. Tension. Some people don't like Jesus right now.

Moving on in Verse 31: "some Pharisees came and said to him, 'Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.'"

We could look at that report in two ways: as a warning or as a threat. Here's what we know about the Pharisees and Herod: First, the Pharisees weren't above using either truth or falsehood to go against Jesus, even if it meant collaborating with an enemy. Second, Herod was not above killing religious leaders, which he proved in the beheading of John the Baptist. Yet Herod did seem to feel some remorse in killing John (especially if you look in Matthew) so Herod probably hoped that Jesus would leave so he wouldn't have to do the dirty deed again. So it looks like both Herod and the Pharisees would have liked that Jesus was being told to leave through the threat of death. Now how's that for tension?

Next, note Jesus' reply to the threat:

"He 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. 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.’ 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!"

I love love love love love the animal imagery here! I'll get into the obvious animal references in a second, but first I want to point out something that might not be as obvious. Back in 1929, Walter Cannon came up with this theory that animals will always respond to stress, especially a sense of danger or an environmental stressor like a loud bang or a bright flash, with either combat or escape. There's even physiological evidence to back this up. There's this hormone in our bodies called catecholamines (pretty much a big fancy word for adrenaline) that are released when we sense danger that actually prepares the body for physical activity. If there is enough of this adrenaline released at once, our nervous system will go on autopilot and our muscles will move involuntarily. For instance, If I were to suddenly blow an airhorn in the middle of my next sentence, everyone of you would jump and a few of you might wake up. I won't do that, though. This phenomenon is commonly known as the fight-or-flight response. Some Scientists have argued that it should also include freeze, like those fainting goats you can watch on YouTube.

Regardless, when Jesus was faced with the ultimate danger of a death threat, Jesus certainly doesn't freeze or play dead, he doesn't run away and hide from his enemy, and he doesn't fight his enemy either. Jesus keeps going on his journey despite the tension. There are no violent knee-jerk reactions. In fact, the animal metaphors jesus uses shows that his intent is quite the opposite of violence.

First, what does he call Herod? A Fox! To the Jew the fox was a couple of things: the slyest of animals and a destructive animal. Someone told me that in that part of the world, foxes are a lot like raccoons in the city. They're pests that get into your garbage and are big nuicances. Used as a symbol for a person, fox would not be a flattering name to receive: to be a fox was to be a devious, deceitful, worthless, and insignificant. What a name for a king!

But the real kicker comes with what Jesus named himself: A Hen!

I think this is such a beautiful image for Jesus. When I was in high school, I raised chickens, and I don't know if there is a better example of sacrificial love than a mothering Hen. Whenever the Hen senses danger, she'll make noises and peck at the ground in a certain way, and the little peeps will all run under her wings safe and sound. The hen will do whatever she can to make sure the chicks stay safe. When I was in Laurelville for the worship Leaders retreat, Brian McLaren told us a story about how he had afriend that raised chickens, and one dat there was a fire in the chicken coop. There was a mothering hen and her peeps were in the coop at the time, and when his friend later found the chickens, he found a hen that had been killed by the flames, but under her wings, two chicks still living.

Jesus resigned himself to the ultimate sacrificial love.

What's more, Chickens are fox food. One of the dangers that a mothering hen would have to protect her brood from is a fox. Jesus says his brood is Jerusalem-- the Holy city, the center of Jewish religious activity, the representation of Pharisees and Saducees. Was Jesus was trying to protect his enemy from Herod the fox?

It's ironic. It's sad, but Jesus knows and mourns that the Jewish people do not take his offer of protection. Instead they try to get him killed and eventually succeed. Why were they so hateful to Jesus? Perhaps it was the brand of Mamzer Jesus probably received at birth and never was able to get rid of. Perhaps it was because he did scandalous things like heal people on the sabbath. It was probably a combination of things, but ultimately, I think Jesus was just not Pious enough for the Pharisees. Jesus didn't follow the law well enough and since he had a following, there was danger that Jesus was going to lead Jews away from the Torah law they clung to so tightly.

What can we take away from Luke 13:31-35 this lenten season? I think if we all look at our lives, we might find that we too are like the rebellious peeps of Jerusalem, clinging to our rules, pushing away our mother hen, ignoring the protection and love she offers us and leaving ourselves vulnerable to the foxes of the world. If we find that is true, I pray that we will be able to let go of the rules we are clinging to, and hold on to the love and protection and grace that is freely given to us.

Hold on. Let Go.
Breathe in. Breathe out.

It seems so natural yet proves itself so difficult.

My hope is that as we journey through this time of lent, our prayer will be like that in Psalm 27, which I may have reworded a little...

1 The Hen is my light and my salvation—
what shall I fear?
The Hen is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?

2 When foxes advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will not succeed

3 Though a danger looms,
my heart will not fear;
though fire threatens me,
even then will I be confident.

4 One thing I ask of the Hen,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the safety of her wings
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Hen
and to seek her in her Coop.

5 For in the day of trouble
she will keep me safe in her presence;
she will hide me in the shelter of her feathers
and set me under her belly.

6 Then my head will be exalted
above the dangers that surround me;
on her back I will climb with shouts of joy;
I will cluck and crow to Her name!

7 Hear my voice when I call, O mothering Hen;
be merciful to me and answer me.

8 My heart says of you, "Seek her face!"
Your face, oh fowl, I will seek.

9 Do not hide your face from me,
do not turn your servant away in anger;
you have been my protector.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.

10 Though my father and mother forsake me,
Your nest will receive me.

11 Teach me your way, O mothering hen;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.

12 Do not turn me over to the desire of my preditors,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.

13 I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the mothering Hen
in the land of the living.

14 Wait for the Bird;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Bird.



2 comments:

Trevor said...

nice work kyle! ... where did you get the stuff from cannon?

Kyle said...

Wikipedia