We can find many images of God, in scripture. God is often imaged as Lord, as King, as Shepherd, as Father. But a chicken? A mother hen? Really?
Images of God are important. They shape the way we think about God, about theology. They shape our beliefs, how we relate to God and to each other.
I’m not trying to ruffle any feathers (so sorry about that) by referring to Jesus as a hen or as a mother but in this scripture Jesus refers to himself as a Mother Hen. “How I have longed to gather you under my wings, but you were not willing.” And with that one lament Jesus pretty much sums up God’s relationship with us doesn’t he?
From the beginning, the first days in the Garden of Eden, to the days wandering in the wilderness, to the days in exile, to the days of the prophets, the days of Jesus of Nazareth.
And today. This very day. God has been trying to gather us as a mother hen gathers her chicks under her wings but we were not willing.
Last night I got to rock my fourteen month old daughter to sleep. As I held my freshly bathed baby and her fleecy blanket close to my chest, I smelled the top of her head. I wanted to remember her smell. I watched her chubby hand stroke her blanket and tried desperately to sear the memory of those little fingers into my mind. I rocked and sang to her, praying that the words of the song would somehow work their way into her heart, that she would know deep down that the God of amazing grace loves her more deeply than she will ever comprehend. I loved holding her. Sure, I had other things I needed to do, but at that moment, I felt like I could hold my baby girl forever.
Anyone who has ever loved a child, who has ever rocked a baby to sleep can probably understand this feeling. A feeling of deep love, a desire to protect and nurture, to somehow hold that baby until he or she just KNOWS how much he or she is loved.
How I have longed to gather you under my wings.
God feels this way about us. And this image of God as protective mother is vitally important to our understanding of how much God loves us.
But Mother Hen isn’t the only image used in this scripture.
As he’s in the middle of healing and teaching, and proclaiming the Kingdom of God, the Pharisees, Jewish teachers of the Law, come to warn Jesus that Herod has issued death warrant for him.
Herod was not someone you wanted to mess with. He was known as the cruel, unscrupulous ruler who had John the Baptist beheaded and his head served up on a platter. Not one of the brightest men, he was a puppet ruler for the Roman Empire and had made some pretty ignorant moves in his tenure, including but not limited to, building an entire city upon a Jewish graveyard. His ignorance and abuse of power made him a disliked and dangerous ruler amongst the Jewish people.
But when Jesus hears of Herod’s threat he seems nonplussed. “Go and tell that fox for me, I don’t have time for your threats. I am busy fulfilling the mission God gave me to do and I am going to continue until I complete my mission, on God’s terms, not on yours!”
Foxes (sometimes called jackals in the Old Testament), were known to be predators, but not in the grand, top of the food chain kind of way. They were scavenging animals who hunted at night preying upon remnants of carcasses left by hunters or other predators. They were known to hit up battle fields after times of warfare, devouring the remains of soldiers left behind. In Psalm 63 David makes reference to this, saying, "But those who seek to destroy my life shall go down into the depths of the earth; they shall be given over to the power of the sword, they shall be prey for foxes.
This is the image of Herod Jesus gives us. A fox. Sneaky, hunting in the dark, preying upon that which was easy to kill - baby chicks for instance. We all have foxes in our lives. I have mine, I’m sure you have yours.
The fox is in the hen house--as credit cards promise shiny objects that can make us happy, but really only deliver mountains of debt and worry.
The fox is in the hen house--as the news assaults us with a continual alarm, fear of who or what is lurking out there waiting to get us.
The fox is in the hen house - as the internet tempts us with perpetual opportunities for relationships outside of the one to which we are committed.
The fox is in the hen house--telling us that working long, long hours each week will pay off in time, but meanwhile our kids are growing up and we don’t really know them.
The fox is in the hen house - as magazines, tv, movies, advertisements, give you images of the perfect woman or the perfect man - and you just don’t measure up.
The fox is in the hen house - as religious zeal has us pointing fingers at one another saying, “You are not my brother.” “You are not my sister.” Driving divisions in the Church deeper and deeper.
So why would Jesus call himself a chicken? Something so unimportant, so weak, so chicken? Given the number of animals used for imagery and illustration in the Bible, why would Jesus choose to image himself as a hen? Why wouldn’t Jesus choose an eagle or a lion, or anything BUT a chicken?
We were discussing this text at the campus ministry the other night and one of my students was struggling with the idea of Jesus as a vulnerable mother hen. He said, “I want Jesus to be the lion. To be able to defeat the fox. I want to know I’m protected! I want to know Jesus is going to win!”
But Jesus chooses a hen, and if you think about it, a hen is really, so Jesus. He is always saying and doing things we don’t expect of him! Hanging out with the wrong kind of people, breaking religious rules, saying things like “blessed are the meek and the poor”. So, of course he chooses a chicken, which is about as opposite of a fox as you can get.
But do you know what a hen does when a fox gets into the hen house? She puts herself between the fox and the chicks.
Jesus didn’t come to conquer with bloodshed and power. He came to show the people of the world how much God loves them. He came knowing we are lost chicks, straying here and there, never knowing where to go or who to turn to in times of trouble! Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus’ lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world --wings spread, breast exposed.
Jesus won’t be king of the jungle. He’s not the “winner” in a battle of might. What he will be is a mother hen who stands between her chicks and the fox. She doesn’t have sharp teeth, she doesn’t have the strength or the speed. All she has is her readiness to put herself between the fox and her babies. And that is what she does.
I need a Mother Hen of a God to show me a better way.
Part of the call of Lent is to accept God’s generous invitation to return to God, to return to the hen-house (if you will), to allow the Mother Hen to gather us under her wings. To remember, who we are and Whose we are - we are her chicks, her children and that she loves us fiercely with a mother’s love.
So friends, images are important. Today we give thanks for the God who is imaged in scripture as the mother hen, who gathers us under her wings of protection, who tends to us, who calls us her children, and who loves us enough to give of her life.
No comments:
Post a Comment