“Holy Longing” – March 3, 2013 Sermon
March 3, 2013
Scripture: Luke 13: 31-35
In that same hour some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.” He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.’ In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Sermon: Holy Longing
by Rev. Doreen Oughton
What an interesting portrayal of Jesus in this morning’s scripture passage, isn’t it? It’s like the two faces of Jesus. Jesus has been making his way to Jerusalem for the Passover, for what he knows will be the end of his earthly life. He’s already told his disciples, twice, that in Jerusalem he will be betrayed and killed, but will be resurrected on the third day. “In that same hour” that the introduction to this passage refers to, Jesus was responding to someone’s question about who will be saved. After urging them to go through the narrow gate, he notes that not all who think they will be saved actually will be, and that many who were seen to be last will be first into the kindom of God. I imagine it as a passionate speech. And just then, along come some Pharisees warning him to just turn around and head back to Galilee as Herod wants to kill him.
Now Luke tends not to be as critical of the Pharisees as the other gospel writers, and it is not clear if they are genuinely concerned for Jesus or if they are helping Herod keep him out of Jerusalem. “Run away, Jesus, run away.” Can you imagine Jesus running away from something in fear? Jesus is clear with them, and strong. He sounds like he might be angry. “You tell that fox…” He won’t turn around, won’t be diverted from his mission, or missions – to reach Jerusalem and to teach and heal and drive out demons all along the way. And he says he is not looking to avoid execution. He will press on to Jerusalem because that is the place that prophets are killed. “Surely, no prophet can die outside of Jerusalem.”
Then how his tone changes. He is heartsick, he laments, not for himself but for his beloved Jerusalem. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.. how I have longed to gather you under my wing, but you would not have it!” Bruce Prewer describes how painful this must have been for Jesus as a devout Jew. He say, “[We] can never appreciate the depth of feeling a Jew like Jesus had for Jerusalem. Idealised as the city of God, Jerusalem was woven into their prayers and conversation, into their hopes and their worst fears. No earthly place was more precious to the Jewish people in Jesus’ time. But it rejected him, spurned his compassion, and at the conclusion, would hound him outside its walls to a rocky hill called “The Skull”.” And Jesus knew that not only would he be killed in Jerusalem, but that it wouldn’t be long before Jerusalem itself would be destroyed.
He knows all of this, and yet he persists. He is strong and clear, some might say tough, in standing up to Herod, in refusing to be derailed from his call to spread the Good News, to be the Good News. But his determination and toughness comes from the most tender place – deep love, and a holy longing to spare Jerusalem, to spare all of us from the death and destruction, the pain and suffering that come from a rejection of God’s love and comfort and guidance. Jesus knew that he wouldn’t be derailed, couldn’t, ultimately, fail, because love wins, and eventually all of us will know the good news, will dwell in the kindom. But Jesus stayed strong and clear and tough in his conviction that we could be there right now, and that is worth any sacrifice we might make. His deepest longing is to save us now. Will we have it, will we allow him to gather us under his wings like a mother hen? Peep, peep, peep. May it be so.
