A fox crept into a hen house one night and seeing that the hen was sitting way up high out of reach, spoke to her. 

It probably does not need to be said that the Fox was very hungry and the hen seemed to him to be a very tasty morsel.  He thought a long time before he decided what he ought to say in order that he might bring the tasty morsel where he could get at it.  When he did speak, he thought he could make the hen think he was worried about her health. 

“Dear cousin,” he said, “how are you?  I heard that you were sick and I was worried about you.  You do look pale; come down here and let me feel your pulse.  I am afraid you are not well at all.”

“That’s right cousin fox.  I was never in more pain in my life,” said the wise hen.  “In fact, I am in such a bad state that if I were to climb all the way down there, I’m afraid it would be the death of me.”

The point—Wise people are able to detect insincerity without much trouble. 

A fable from Aesop 600 years before Christ.  But surely even before Aesop foxes and hens have been sparing and facing off.  The fox, wily, conniving, up to no good and wanting what he wants.  The hen, ordinary, weak, apparently more vulnerable but in the end not so stupid after all. 

It is no accident that our text this morning calls to mind all that we know of foxes and hens.  When some Pharisees, and quite frankly we don’t know what their motivation was, but when some Pharisees come to Jesus with the warning, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”  Jesus replies, “You tell that fox for me, I have work to do.”  The fox will not determine this hen’s agenda.  The fox will not co-opt this hen’s story.  We have here a classic clash of wills between seemingly very unequal parties. 

Herod the fox, Herod Antipas who ruled as Tetrarch from 4 to 39A.D. in Galilee and Perea was a violent and ruthless despot.  He came under fire from John the Baptist for divorcing his wife and marrying his brother’s wife.  You’ll remember Herod had John arrested and imprisoned and finally at the behest and through the seduction of his wife’s daughter Salome, had John the Baptist beheaded.  Scripture tells us that “some people said that Jesus was John the Baptist come back to life (Lk. 9:7-9) or maybe Jesus was Elijah the prophet.  Either way, Herod hearing these rumors, would desire Jesus no good.  Like modern despots, Herod retains power by silencing the voice of opposition through terror and recrimination.  Like modern despots Herod controls by thwarting any who would work for the good of the people preferring instead brutality and deprivation.  Herod Antipas could easily join the ranks of Saddam Hussein, Milosevic, Ahmadinajab or Qaddafi with their rule of fear and lust for power.

Jesus knew that fear of these despots and what they might do bends the will of many well intentioned individuals.  Jesus stinging reply to this temptation to fear is “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 and tomorrow and the next day I must be on my way”.  Whose will will triumph here?  Who has the upper hand?  Who writes the script for how this story comes out, the fox or the hen?  Jesus will not be deterred.  He knows that he must be about the Father’s business of bringing healing and wholeness to all people.  He knows he must continue to announce the presence of God’s kingdom in their midst now.  He knows that there is only the way of love that will bring hope and help.

But Hens are not naïve either; they are savvy to barnyard politics.  There are consequences to challenging the powers that be.  Jesus knows all too well “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it.”  To defy and enrage the powers that be in order to unmask and neutralize them involves great risk and danger.  We see that in our world every day; from Freedom Riders who subjected themselves to abuse and degradation, returning hate with love, to students protesting an oppressive government in Tiananmen Square, to journalists being imprisoned in Iran, to people laying down in front of bulldozers in Palestine.  The realities of the world are very clear but Jesus still sets his path for Jerusalem. 

Jesus laments “how often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings and you were not willing.”  There is another will involved here, the will of the people, of us, of this brood who through our own ignorance, innocence or fear refuse to accept the very real help and security that God offers.  This is the word of judgment for us who want our own way, in our own time, on our own terms.  Bringing both a word of accountability and grace Jesus laments the very ones who would reject him, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings and you were not willing.”  You were not willing  “If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, and who of us hasn’t, the brother or sister hurtling towards alcoholism, the child taking on ever greater and greater risky behaviors, the parent sinking ever deeper into depression, If you have ever loved someone you cannot 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 -- but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand."  (Barbara Brown Taylor, Christian century 1995)

The wonderful Christian writer Frederich Buechner in his memoir The Dwarves in the Stable tells about his daughter’s battle with anorexia.  She is in and out of care for many months.  Her parents try as they might through pleas, threats bribes and endless love cannot get her to eat one forkful.  Buechner writes, “The only way I knew to be a father was to take care of her, to move heaven and earth if necessary to make her well, and of course I couldn’t do that.  I didn’t have either the power or the wisdom to make her well.  None of us has the power to change other human beings like that, and it would be a terrible power if we did.  The power to violate the humanity of others even for their own good.  The psychiatrists we consulted told me I couldn’t cure her.  The best thing I could do was to stop trying to do anything.  I think in heart I knew they were right, but it didn’t stop the madness of my desperate meddling, it didn’t stop the madness of my trying.  Everything I could think to do or say only stiffened her resolve to be free from among other things, me.  Her not eating was a symbolic way of striking out for that freedom.  The only way she would ever be well again was if and when she freely chose to be.  The best I could do as her father was to stand back and give her that freedom even at the risk of her using it for death instead of life. 

Finally she is hospitalized, far from home, out of the range of a father’s attention.  Doctors, nurses, social workers, judges take over and hospitalize her.  Buechener continues, “God loves in something like their way, I think.  The power that created the universe and spun the dragonfly’s wing and is beyond all powers holds back, in love, from overpowering us.  .  Walking down the corridor to the room that had her name taped to the door, I felt that presence surrounding me—like air—God in his very stillness, holding his breath, loving her, loving us all, the only way he can without destroying us.” 

How much is this the God who laments “How often have I desired to gather you together as a hen gathers her children under her wings, and you were not willing!

Foxes and hens—a test of wills—those who would bend us through coercion, fear, power and force or he who beckons us in love to mold our will to his.  “How often would I have gathered you under my wings?”

Amen