March 13, 2022 – Second Sunday of Lent – Luke 13:31-35
First Trinity Lutheran Church, Indianapolis, IN

This was our first attempt at livestreaming worship, and it actually worked pretty well. We’ll make a few improvements here and there, but for the most part, I’m pretty satisfied!

Click below if you’d like to read along!

No good deed goes unpunished. Sometimes we try to help someone and it just causes more problems. Or even makes enemies. Folks who can’t stand it when we do something good. Maybe they’re jealous. Or territorial. Or they can’t stand to see someone else succeed, and they try to sabotage us.

In our gospel reading, Jesus is dealing with the same problem. He’s been healing folks with diseases. Casting out demons. Talking about love and forgiveness. All great things. But every good deed just seems to attract more enemies. Last week we heard the story of Satan tempting Jesus, trying to get him to use his power for personal gain. Then there are the Pharisees – the purity police who can’t stand to see Jesus reaching out to the marginalized and the alienated. The Pharisees are all about jumping through hoops to earn God’s approval. But there’s always some kind of power and privilege around passing all the tests. After a while, it’s not so much about God anymore, but the hoops themselves become idols. Civil servants know this. So every time Jesus just forgives someone, it chips away at their power, and they hate Jesus for that.

And now, apparently Jesus has an even bigger enemy. King Herod. It’s not a surprise. Remember how Herod went after John the Baptist. He didn’t like that John was accusing him of unrighteousness, for stealing his brother’s wife. And he didn’t like that John was gaining followers. So he had John thrown into prison, and eventually executed. But then Jesus comes along, doing and saying things that sound like John. That catches Herod’s attention, which is the last thing you want to do. So now all these good deeds Jesus is doing are earning him a new title – “enemy of the state.” Let’s imagine what this would look like in our context. Imagine if a president of the United States was the kind of person who launches personal vendettas. And what if such a president started targeting those folks with the justice department and federal authorities? Which has happened. Or maybe it sounds a little like the days when Senator McCarthy targeted actors and musicians because he didn’t like what they were saying, so he labeled them as communists and made their lives hell.

It doesn’t really matter whether or not Jesus wanted to be political. Herod decided it. And put a target on Jesus’ head.

But here’s the thing. Remember what Jesus preached when he visited his hometown of Nazareth? “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. To proclaim release to the captives and sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” “Captives” is the same word for “prisoners of war.” The “year of the Lord’s favor” is the Jubilee year, which means remitting all debts. And Jesus promises to “proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to other cities.” “Kingdom” is a word for government. Sure, Jesus is talking about spiritual freedom. But he’s also using very political words to do it. In a way, Jesus preaching in his hometown sounds an awful lot like a politician declaring their candidacy. What he’s describing sounds like revolution. Everyone knows what Herod will do about that, and it’s so terrifying that even the Pharisees who oppoose Jesus, warn him.

Now, you’d think that Herod’s the real enemy here. The one who’s got the power to stop Jesus like he stopped John. Except Jesus doesn’t think so. He tells the Pharisees, “Hey, go tell that fox for me – listen, I’m casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish.” In other words, “I don’t care who you think you are, you can’t stop me. I will prevail.” Strong words. But then Jesus confesses the ones who really can stop him, and it’s killing him. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets. How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing.” He means the countless folks who hear him and walk away.

See, Jesus isn’t a strongman like Herod. He’s the opposite. He never forces. He only appeals by love and mercy. But it’s not reassuring. It’s threatening, because it exacts a great cost. Good news for the poor sounds great until we realize what sacrifices we’d have to make. We talk about release for the captives, like folks who are black, brown, trans, children, elders, gay, or anyone who’s ever been marginalized, as long as it’s not too controversial. We want the blind to see, we want truth over conspiracy theories, but we don’t want to be too political. We hear Jesus calling us as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but we just don’t have it in us to respond. So after a while, God runs out of things to say, and the silence is deafening. As Jesus says, our henhouse is left to us, and the fox prevails.

By all accounts, the fox even prevailed against Jesus. He was crucified and died. Except after three days, Jesus was raised in the glory of resurrection, just as he promised – “On the third day, I finish my work.” Jesus had to do it. He had to sacrifice himself, because it’s the only way to prove that strongmen like Herod will never win. To show all the Herods of the world that the lowly hen will never be intimidated, especially when the fox is already in the henhouse. Because the only real weapon that someone like Herod has, is fear. But here’s the thing, it’s not fear of death. After all, we all die. Instead, Herod relies on our fear that we can’t fight the system. Our fear that nothing we do really matters in the end. Our fear that we’re disposable. And that’s deadly, because if Herod’s right, then we might as well have never existed in the first place. It reminds me of what a Hasidic rabbi once prayed – “Lord, let me not die while I’m still alive.” So Jesus goes to the cross to show us once and for all just how much we’re worth to him, and no Herod can ever erase that.

Of course, Jesus knows that Herod’s not the only enemy. The demons of shame and self-doubt assail our consciences. I confess they hit me daily. Like we’re not smart enough or persuasive enough to make a difference, or that we’ll look like hypocrites. So Jesus says, “Listen, I’m casting out demons and performing cures today.” Today and everyday, because Jesus keeps giving us his word of unconditional forgiveness, and faith to trust it. Jesus knows about the baggage we all carry around. The stuff that just weighs us down. It prevents us from being who we really are as integral parts of the living body of Christ. The Jesus that people still see and touch and hear in this tired world. The Jesus who still casts out demons and heals infirmities, when we tell the truth about God and justice and equity for all God’s children. And that means everyone.

Of course, that’ll also get us in trouble. Good trouble is still trouble. Some folks won’t like that. They’ll say we’re just trying to be woke. But we know that arguing just makes enemies. So Jesus reminds us that’s not why we do it. We do it because we’re desperate to discover our community. To know folks who we never would have believed we have anything in common. To share the joys and sorrows that bind us to each other. For Jesus really is gathering us together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and there’s room for everyone.