St Mark Presbyterian Church

“The Fox and The Hen”

Luke 13:31-35

Barbara J. Campbell, Pastor

Almost half of the 24 Chapters into which the gospel of Luke has been divided claim to record the words of Jesus. If you pick up one of those Bibles which print everything Jesus says in red letters, you will find the entire center section of Luke is red and we are well into the “red” section when we come to today’s story.

Jesus has been telling the crowds again and again, in many different ways, about the kingdom of God and about how one can achieve access to that kingdom. In fact, Jesus says so many different things back to back in this section, that the reader ends up a bit shell-shocked.

Near the end of this long section of teachings Jesus tells two parables about small acts that have expansive consequences. The tiniest of seeds, the mustard seed, grows into an enormous plant that gives shelter to the birds of the air and a woman puts just a handful of yeast into three measures of flour and it leavens the whole batch! After all the ups and downs, good news/bad news themes, of the previous chapters, we hear that a little faith can go a long way.

Finally Jesus gives what seems to be a synopsis of everything he has been trying to say. The summary statement begins with a question.  After all the warnings Jesus has given them, someone asks, “Lord, will only a few be saved?”

“What it all comes down to, in the end, is this,” Jesus says,  “The door is narrow, few will be able to enter it and the door will soon be closed for good. As many stand outside weeping and gnashing their teeth because they are unable to enter, others will come from east and west, north and south, from all over the place, and enter to share table fellowship within.”

“Door” language reminds us, of another story Jesus told; one about knocking persistently on a neighbor’s door at midnight until the neighbor gets out of bed and agrees to give you what you need. Jesus insisted in that story that all we had to do was knock and the door would be opened. So which is it, Jesus?  “Simply knock and the door will be open” or “enter when you have the chance, if you can, before the door is shut forever.”

If the invitation is to everyone; if the door is opened for everyone who knocks, even those who are lost or insignificant in the world’s eyes, how is it that the same door is also considered by Jesus to be “narrow” and ready even to be closed at some point.

Did Jesus consider it a narrow door because many people tried to enter in some fashion that wouldn’t work? It couldn’t have been that the people themselves were unqualified for entry; that they lacked the faith or good works needed for entry, because Jesus also said that all they had to do was knock and the door would be opened.

Why do you think Jesus might have called the door to life in the new community of God, “narrow?”

The gracious, unconditional, infinite love of God is an almost impossible gift to accept.  The religious view which prevailed in the time of Jesus and still existed in many churches even today is that God judges and condemns human behavior; that humanity can never measure up to the righteousness that God demands; that we must constantly seek to appease God with our sacrifices and confessions.  Perhaps Jesus says that the door is narrow because he knows how hard it is for humanity to accept in invitation. Perhaps the door is narrowed by our concept of the door; narrowed because that all we are able to see.

Jesus must have felt great sorrow for humanity during his lifetime. Jesus cried out for the people of Jerusalem who were not able to hear or accept the good news that he proclaimed.  He wept for cities that exploited the weak and abandoned the poor in order to build there own security.  After warning the people about the narrow door, Jesus grieved, wishing he could gather the inhabitants of Jerusalem together like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings; wished that he could convince them of a God that loves that completely.

Jesus knew how little the people knew of God’s love; how little they trusted in their vengeful God’s promises. Jesus also knew how hard it would be for his human brothers and sisters to accept each other as equal in God’s sight and within their own communities.  He knew we would spend so much of our time shoving our way toward the door and pushing others out of the doorway, that very few of us would be able to enter.

His grieving is exposed when a Pharisee comes with a warning that Herod is out to kill Jesus. The Pharisees, you see, were not all against Jesus. Luke reminds his readers in the Book of Acts, that it was a Pharisee who was a moderate voice in the Jewish council when it was dealing with the early church and that the Apostle Paul called himself a Pharisee throughout his ministry.

Jesus responses to the warning by calling Herod a “fox,” a metaphor for both “clever” and “destructive,” and says that they should tell this fox that Jesus is going to be busy healing people for the next couple of days and then he will be finished.  He says, “I must be on my way for it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.”

“I must be on my way,” does not mean that Jesus had to leave town, but that Jesus “must continue the work and way of healing in Jerusalem” just as he had said that he “must be in his father’s house,” “must stay at the home of Zaccheaus,” and “must undergo great suffering.”   Jesus is talking about his calling; the purpose of his life; the choice he has made to serve God.

And Jesus then reminds the people of Jerusalem of the many times they killed God’s prophets; the prophets that they will find already in God’s community while they are yet on the outside. “Your house is left to you,” Jesus told the inhabitants of Jerusalem, as Jeremiah had centuries earlier warned all Israel that “. .this house shall become a desolation.”  The offer of God’s love and justice can be only that, . . an offer.  It can and has been rejected again and again because the door seems too narrow.

There are two animals in this story; two animals that symbolize the hunter and the hunted; the predator and its prey.  The fox and the mother hen. Herod is preying on the people like a fox, while the son of God, like a hen, is trying desperately to gather chicks into safety.

In India, at the mission farm compound we call BIRDS, as the sun begins to set, the goat herder’s wife tries to gather any newly born chicks and their mother under one large grass basket for protection.  She holds a lightweight dome about the size of a dog house, upside down near the ground and quickly tries to cover up as many chicks as she can. One or two chicks are always left outside and yet when she tips the edge of the basket to capture those chicks, a chick already inside often runs back out.  It takes quite an effort to get all those unwilling chicks under protection.

Knock and the door will be opened.  But the door will be narrow, difficult to enter, difficult to trust, difficult to see, difficult to step through to the other side.  Still Jesus says, strive for the narrow door, for people will come from east and west, north and south and enter through this door to feast with the new community of grace and justice.

“His Mother’s Voice”

Luke 4:1-13

Barbara J. Campbell, Pastor

Jesus went to the Jordan River to be baptized by John and perhaps planned to become one of John’s followers. Following an initiation rites into such religious groups new disciples commonly observed a period of self-deprivation, such as a journey alone into the wilderness for “forty days.” “Forty days” is the biblical way of saying, “a long time” and the Hebrew connection between Jesus and the great wilderness experience which followed their Exodus from slavery.

The story of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness is recorded in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke as well as other earlier writings. Luke’s gospel begins by confirming the identity of Jesus as God’s son, through the story of his baptism and a genealogy so long and so impressive that it goes all the way back to Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.  With the identity of Jesus; the “who,” firmly in place, Luke begins work on the “what” and the “how;” on the work that Jesus has come to accomplish.

The Hebrew people expected different things of their coming Messiah. Some expected a political Messiah who would re-establish the kingdom of Israel.  Some looked for a priestly Messiah who would purify the worship of Israel while others believed that a new Moses would come to lead the people as Moses led them.

The details of the temptation story may have been based on actual requests the people made of Jesus during his ministry; requests for a sign. John’s gospel contains no account of the temptations in the wilderness, but it does tell of several events to which the temptation story may have been a response; several times when Jesus faced similar sounding temptations.

Following the feeding of the 5,000, for instance, Jesus tells the crowds that they  are following him, asking him for another sign, only because they hope he will provide bread for them, as Moses did in the desert.  Later the brothers of Jesus tell Jesus to go to Jerusalem so that he might “show himself to the world” once and for all.  Finally, after his entry into Jerusalem, Jesus faces his own personal temptation, wondering aloud, “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say – “Father, save me from this hour?’

Perhaps, during his baptism and after, Jesus felt the Spirit of God leading him, but he wasn’t certain where. Jesus may have been filled with the conviction that God was calling him to preach and minister to the people; but may not have been certain what he was to preach or how he was to care for them.

Jesus may have struggled with an image of John’s God that no longer fit for him. The Baptist’s message was one of fear and repentance. John’s God was a God of judgement and vengeance and John waited with eager anticipation for God’s wrath to sweep down upon the earth and destroy the unrighteous. “If God truly had that sort of power over creation,” Jesus may have asked himself, “why couldn’t God turn stones into bread for the hungry!”

Or perhaps Jesus thought, “Maybe John is right. Maybe we should build a righteous army and fight the injustices of Rome and the conspiracies of the temple and palace. With the right leadership and cunning perhaps we could overthrow Pilate and drive out his priestly puppets. Why not use God’s power to save the people from this economic oppression; from their endless hunger and disease?”

Finally Jesus may have thought, “Perhaps some sort of demonstration of power is all it would take to gain the upper hand.  Isn’t it written in the Psalms that God’s angels would will watch over God’s chosen one. What if I could throw myself down from the pinnacle of the temple and survive?”

The problem with this story is that it seems totally fictitious. None of us, I hope, has seen the devil, talked with the devil or been transported by the devil from one scene of temptation to another.  The story sounds way too much like Dicken’s Christmas Carol.

The temptations in our lives are much more subtle and confusing. The decisions we face are not simply between good and bad, but often between bad and worse or between good and better.  Our choices are sometimes very complicated.  We struggle with questions like, “When does what is good for the whole outweigh what is best for an individual?”

What other examples come to mind for you?  How are we tempted to compromise with Satan or concede to popular demand in the decisions that we face today?  How is our faith tested in our complex culture?

We will not find ethical guidance to cover every particular situation in this temptation story nor even in scripture as a whole, but we will find some very basic, foundational wisdom and instruction.  The story of Jesus’ temptation tells us clearly that we are not meant to use our religion for personal gain. We are not created to be successful, or rich, or powerful, only faithful to our Creator and created image.

The story was told that when Jesus was alone in the desert he prayed and struggled to discern God’s will. As his honor was challenged by the devil, words came to him from his childhood; words from the Torah; words with which his mother may have often admonished his curious and challenging spirit.

“Mother, I’m hungry!”

“One does not live by bread alone, Jesus!  You can wait for dinner when your father gets home”

“Mother, did you hear what that old man in the streets was saying?  We must join the fight for our freedom!  If we do as they tell us perhaps we could defeat Pilate and oust Caiaphas!”

“Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him, Jesus.  God’s ways do not lead to such violence!”

“Mother, the Psalms say that God’s angels will not let us even stub our toes on a stone, right?  If I pray hard enough, do you think God could make me fly?

“Do not put the Lord your God to the test, my son, for you are not meant to fly and God’s power is not meant for spoiling silly children!”

The story is told that Jesus came back from the desert and set out on his own having realized that God’s power would not be used to afford the righteous special favors or protection or to violently overthrow corruption or injustice.

Jesus felt called to follow a God of absolute and unconditional love for all of creation. This changed everything for Jesus. He knew, with assurance, that the power of God was found in God’s love; a love that could heal; a love that could restore life; a love that could bring joy and hope, even to those who were hungry, to those who grieved, to those whose lives were being sacrificed.

It was this God that Jesus would proclaim in parable and story. It was this God that Jesus would reveal in his healing and feeding and restoring of the people who came to him. As we journey toward his cross, we are called to remember that to be saved does not mean that one’s enemies will be destroyed but reconciled. To be saved does not mean that God will swoop down and take the righteous to a better place, but that a better place will be created for all. We are called to remember that to be saved means accepting God’s grace and healing and wholeness, even in the face of suffering and death.

“A Harsh Jesus?”

Luke 9:28-43

Barbara J. Campbell, Pastor

“Who do the crowds say that I am?”  Just before today’s text, Luke tells of a time when Jesus was alone with his disciples, praying, away from the confusion and commotion of the crowd; a time when he asked his disciples the question, “Who do the crowds say that I am?”

The disciples knew what the crowds had been saying about Jesus, so they answered saying, “Some say that you are John the Baptist, some say Elijah or an ancient prophet returned from the grave, or perhaps Moses himself!”  And they waited for Jesus to reply; to confirm or deny these rumors.

Jesus, however, went on to ask them another question. “Who do you say that I am; you who have walked with me many miles and many days; you who have shared my tent and my table; you who know me better than most of the others?  Who do you say that I am?”

They were silent except for Peter, who said, “You are the Messiah of God.” and Jesus replied, “These words must not be repeated to anyone else!”            Bishop Spong claims that this excessive theological claim for Jesus as God’s only divine Son, did not develop for the most part, until late in the first century CE and that, in reality, Matthew portrays Jesus as a new Moses, and Luke as a new Elijah.

Using a literary devise that served to tie the two stories together, Luke begins a new story with the phrase, “Eight days later.”  Eight days later, Jesus left most of his disciples behind and hiked with only Peter, James and John up onto a mountain top where the issue of Jesus’ identity continued.

Unlike the other versions of this event, the reason for the trip, according to Luke, was prayer and the disciples did their usual thing, they followed Jesus and then could hardly keep their eyes open once they got there.  Jesus does all the praying for the group, as he will do again on the Mount of Olives.

As Jesus prayed, the dozing disciples woke up and began to see something different about Jesus. It was as if he was being transfigured before their very eyes.  They saw a sense of radiance, not shining down on him like some heavenly spotlight, but radiating out from within his body.  .

Later, when someone eventually said something about the mountain top, they said that they saw two familiar figures with Jesus; Moses and Elijah. How they identified these figures we are not told, but the images of Moses and Elijah that became part of the story, connected Jesus strongly to the traditions of the Law (brought by Moses) and the Prophets (represented by Elijah)

The connections are anything but subtle. Jesus’ face shone, just as Moses face shone with the reflection of God’s glory when Moses came down from Mt. Sinai. Peter, James, and John over heard the three figures speaking about the “exodus” of Jesus which would come to pass in Jerusalem. Peter’s suggestion that they build three “booths” was a direct reference to the ancient Feast of Tabernacles which had become, by the time this gospel was written, a pilgrimage festival celebrating the first Exodus; Israel’s journey to freedom.

Peter’s suggestion to build three tents was met with silence from Jesus, a quickly approaching cloud and the unmistakable voice of God. “This is my son, my chosen, my beloved, listen to him!” The term “my beloved” was used frequently also in referring to the coming Messiah.

Some scholars believe that the story of this transfiguration of Jesus originally referred to a post-resurrection appearance story of Jesus.  As stories were handed down during that first century after his death, you can almost imagine someone saying, “Remember what Peter told us about seeing Jesus on the mountain with Moses and Elijah! That was after the resurrection, right?”  “No,” someone answers, “I think that was while they were on their way to Jerusalem.”

The Church has long interpreted this story as evidence of Christ’s glory and power outshining even that power and glory of Moses or Elijah. This event was told again and again in the synagogues where Jesus’ followers spoke to their Jewish friends and neighbors trying to convince them of the saving grace of following Jesus.

It is significant that at least some of the disciples began to see Jesus in a light that made him equal to and fulfilling the tradition of the Law and Prophets, but there are other details of this story that must not get lost in the shadow cast by that brilliant light on the mountain.

First there is the issue of the message from God at this point. The voice didn’t say, “This is my beloved, worship him!” or “This is my son, fall on your knees! Obey him!”  Of all the instructions they could have heard, the disciples heard the words, “Listen to him!”  the one thing they never seemed to be able to do.

But perhaps even more often overlooked is what happened on the following day, when they had come down from the mountain. Again tying the new story to the mountain event, (the author’s way of telling us that what happens next relates directly to the mountain experience) we read that a great crowd finds Jesus and the first voice that is heard from the crowd is a father crying out, “Teacher, I beg you, look at my son, he is my only child,’ Perhaps Jesus heard the echo of a voice from at his own baptism; a voice that cried out; ‘Here is my only begotten son with whom I am well pleased.”

The father goes on to describe the horrendous seizures that come upon his son and then informs Jesus that he has already begged Jesus disciples to cast out the evil spirit that seizes the boy, “but they could not.”  At this point we hear some uncharacteristically harsh words from Jesus. “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you?”

“They could not.”  How do these words make you feel?  What is it that the disciples could not do then and what examples come to mind that his disciples cannot do today?

We are not told whether Jesus words were meant for his disciples or for the father and crowd, or all of the above.  The Greek word translated as “faithless” in the NRSV is defined by my Greek Lexicon as “unbelieving.”  It is the word “perverse,” however, that I find more disturbing.  The Greek Lexicon defines this term as someone who is “morally depraved.”   I can understand Jesus being upset at their lack of belief, but why does he call them “perverse” when they are unable to cure someone of a physical disease. What was it that upset Jesus so?

Perhaps it had something to do with the father’s words.  “This is my son, my only son!” Jesus knew the love of God, as his Abba, his father.  Jesus was coming to understand that even such love from God could not and would not save humanity from the evil spirits of the world; the evil that would come after him in Jerusalem.

On the mountain top Peter, James, and John had finally seen the love of God within Jesus with their own eyes.  But down from the mountain, when a human father cried out with Godly love for his only son seized by evil spirit,  only Jesus could see the connection.  The father and the crowd and the disciples could not see the love of God that radiated from within the boy as he lay convulsing on the ground; the disciples were still not aware of God’s spirit radiating within their own lives.

Adam Thomas, Episcopal priest, puts it this way, “We may be visible to one another simply because we reflect and absorb various quantities of white light, but God made us to do much more; God made us to shine.. .  God sees us shining despite the grime and dust.  God knows that we have buried our radiance beneath layers of inhospitable words, mistreated neighbors, hoarded resources, unextended hands, and squandered gifts. God offers us the gift of transfigured eyes, in order that we might see as God sees.”

When we are unable, as the Church of Christ or as a follower of Christ, to cast out an evil spirit from this world, it may be because we are not seeing as God sees; we are not seeing the radiance that shines within every being on earth.  Remember what Tricia preached to us last week: “the proclamation of Paul is that the grace of God is stronger than our attempts to deny it.  Nothing in all creation – even missing the point of it  –  can ultimately thwart (the good news of God’s infinite love.)”

Jesus must get very frustrated with all of us.  How many times does he find that we “can’t do it.”  We enter the Season of Lent next Sunday; a season of 5 weeks leading up to the remembering; reliving of Jesus’ arrest, trial, torture, and death; a season leading ultimately to the celebration of his resurrection in our lives, even today.  Lent is a season which invites us to look at ourselves and our world, critically and honestly. Lent is a season of introspection, soul searching, and penitence as we look once again at the grime and dust and seek to see the light of God that shines behind it all.