Sunday, March 16th, 2025: "Full to the Brim: Under God's Wing"

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The First United Presbyterian Church

“Full to the Brim: Under God’s Wing”

Rev. Amy Morgan

March 16, 2025

Luke 13:31-35

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He said to them, “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, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ”

Sometimes my kid likes to mess with me. When my son, Dean, was in Confirmation class several years ago, he liked to ask questions that would deliberately take us off-topic and propose ideas that would get the class laughing. So when I invited the class to draw something that represented God for them, I wasn’t totally surprised to find Dean tracing his hand on a sheet of paper. 

“Are you making a turkey?” I asked him, with maybe just a hint of exasperation in my voice. “No, Mom,” he replied, “I’m drawing a mother hen.”

Gut punch. Leave it to the pastor’s kid to pull out this obscure image of God and leave his mother speechless. And I suddenly wished every kid in the class had been tracing their hand on the paper. I longed for every child, and adult, to know God as a mother hen, gathering her brood under her wing. I yearned for everyone to know that God desires for us to feel safe and embraced, that this is how God loves us.  

But in the moment Jesus uses this image to describe himself, there is another layer to this love. Jesus is told that Herod wants to kill him. This is no surprise to Jesus for several reasons. Setting aside whatever divine superknowledge he might possess, Jesus knows that Herod is a murderer who comes from a line of murderers. Jesus knows that speaking truth to power is dangerous. Jesus knows that prophets don’t end well, especially in Jerusalem, the seat of political, economic, and religious power in the Jewish world of the first century. Though the name Jerusalem literally means “City of Peace,” this place has, for the most part, been anything but peaceful.

Jesus knows that Jerusalem will be his destruction. And yet, he loves Jerusalem like a mother hen, desiring to comfort and protect this place, this people, who will kill him. It’s all well and good for Jesus to love the little children, to love his disciples, even to love you and me. But Jesus, the mother hen, loves and longs to protect and care for the brood that will execute him. That is love on a whole other level. 

But it is a love I have witnessed again and again. 

The church I served in Michigan included several families who had children with severe autism. The children could experience episodes of screaming, hitting, and biting. We had church leaders with special training to keep people safe during these episodes, but as some of these children grew bigger and went through puberty, the violence was more difficult to manage. 

We saw glimpses of this behavior at church, but we also saw it on the bodies of the children’s parents. Bruises and bite marks and scratches. The parents of these children bore their love on their skin. Most of these families had one parent who had given up a meaningful career to care for their child full-time. They’d given up the possibility of having more children because their one child required so much of their time, energy, and resources. As hard and painful as it was to live with these children, as much as they’d had to sacrifice, these parents never stopped loving their children, never stopped working for their wholeness and safety and well-being, including their spiritual well-being.

Ten years ago, the mother of one of Dean’s friends discovered she had a half-brother with Down’s Syndrome who had been institutionalized since early childhood. This woman worked to gain legal guardianship of her brother and brought him to live with their family. Caring for an adult with special needs who has never been given tools to care for themselves is an endless and thankless task. He needed personal care and cleaning, social activities, feeding, and much more. And yet, this woman loved and cared for her brother, made accommodations to take him on family trips all over the world, and ensured he could lead the happiest, healthiest life possible. 

While the families of those with special needs demonstrate love in incredible ways, Sue Klebold, whose son participated in the killing of 13 people at Columbine High School, loved a child who did unthinkable things to people and made her life into a nightmare. She was horrified by what her son did and heartbroken for the lives he destroyed. She became an advocate for mental health resources and shared her story of guilt, despair, shame, and confusion in a memoir and in public speeches and interviews. And yet, to this day she contends that she has never stopped loving her child. In an NPR interview she said, "I will love him until I breathe my last breath. He's like an invisible child that I carry in my arms everywhere I go, always.” Like a mother hen, she longs to gather her murderous son under her wing. 

It's incredible to see those who can love, even when it costs them greatly, even when that love is not reciprocated. The love Jesus illustrates in this image of a mother hen gathering the children of Jerusalem under her wing is the love we see demonstrated on the cross. It is prophetic love, love that will speak the truth, even when it is perilous. Love that suffers rejection. Love that is hard work. Love that will stand with the marginalized against oppressive powers. Love that will surrender to the darkness so that others can see the light. 

There are many inspiring examples of those who have had the courage and faith to love prophetically. I wish I could say all Christ-followers love that way. But I know from my own failures that this isn’t so. More often than not, we are the wayward brood of children, Jerusalem of the here and now. More often than not, we’re the ones who will make martyrs of those who speak truths that disrupt our comfort and dismantle systems of oppression that benefit us. 

Womanist theologian Wil Gafney wrote that “Jesus knew that prophet could be a terminal occupation because prophet is also a religious vocation. Prophets don’t just have to worry about those who hold political power. Prophets have to contend with those who hold religious authority and are every bit as lethal…There is an ugly side to religion, including ours. Sometimes religious folk, Christian folk, are willing to kill or to die to prove a theological point. Jerusalem had a reputation for being the place where folk killed prophets they didn’t want to hear from.”

And that may be no less true for us today. I shared with our Session a few weeks ago a letter from Denver Presbytery detailing death threats made against pastors, churches, and even a pastor’s spouse because of their support for women in ministry, LGBTQ+ inclusion, and other theological and social stances. Several notices were placed in our mail slot here at church ranting about actions by the current administration and implicating all Christians in supporting these actions. No matter what our theological convictions may be, these days it seems someone is ready to fight us over them. We go after those we don’t want to hear from, whatever prophetic voices are upsetting our applecart, whoever is telling us our way of life or deeply held convictions are out of step with the reign of God. 

We’d like to think we are those mother hens. But, if we’re honest, we’re the children of Jerusalem, again and again. 

But that is not a hopeless declaration. Because Jesus looked over Jerusalem, all those violent, angry, wayward children, and wailed out her name in love, yearned to gather them in and comfort and protect them. Jesus cries out our names in love, too. Jesus yearns to gather us in and comfort and protect us. No matter what our response is to Jesus, this is his feeling toward us. Prophetic love, love no matter the cost, love no matter what. 

If we will only gather together, under God’s wing, we might feel secure, consoled, and peaceful enough to listen to that prophetic love and live into it. 

Because what this world needs more than anything else right now is those who will love prophetically. We need folks who can love with truth and integrity, love folks who are dangerous to love, love whatever the cost. We need the courage and faith to love prophetically. And the only place we can find that courage and that faith is under God’s wing. 

So I’m inviting us to all lift up a hand, spread out our fingers, and remember that image of Jesus as a mother hen. That comforting, protective love, that love that will love us no matter what, no matter the cost, is always with us, always as close to us as our hand. That love knows us by name and knows what we need and knows everything we are capable of – for better or worse. That love would do anything for us. That love did everything for us. 

In those moments when we feel like we have nothing left to give, when we would rather be angry or vengeful than loving and forgiving, when we are scared and sad and lashing out – in those moments, we can look at our hand, trace the pattern of that mother hen, and remember how deeply and completely we are loved and cared for. Under God’s wing, we are loved. Under God’s wing, we can love. 

To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.