Martha C Langford First Presbyterian Church, LaGrange 17 March 2019, Second Sunday in Lent Luke 13:31-35 Jerusalem, Jerusalem Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem. He is making his way through Galilee with his disciples; the region controlled by Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great. It’s easy to confuse the Herod’s because there were six of them—this is the second of three that Luke will include in his story-telling. Herod Antipas has been curious about Jesus ever since he had John the Baptist beheaded. News of Jesus ministry filtered to the palace, along with speculation about the identity of the itinerant teacher, healer, exorcist who was on the loose in Galilee. Some thought John, raised from the dead, or Elijah, or another ancient prophet. Luke writes in chapter 9 that Herod is perplexed and tries to see Jesus (Luke 9:7-9) something that will only take place as Jesus stands trial—in Jerusalem (Luke 23:6-12). This warning – that Herod seeks to kill Jesus – is found only in Luke’s gospel. Did you find it interesting that it’s the Pharisees who bring this warning to Jesus? I know I did. In Matthew’s gospel, the Pharisees and Jesus are always at odds; yet, Luke paints a more nuanced picture. Jesus engages these leaders. He accepts invitations to their homes. He eats with them, sharing table fellowship even as he debates Pharisaic notions of righteousness. He teaches them—with actions and words—the spirit of God’s law and God’s desire for justice. Yet, among the Pharisees are those who seek to entrap Jesus, to silence him, who Luke tells us are “very hostile” toward him… lying in wait… to catch [Jesus] in something he might say” (Luke 11:53-54). If this were a Facebook relationship status the correct phrase would be “its complicated.” Herod seeks to kill him, but that will not keep Jesus from his ministry “casting out demons and performing cures.” He will work his way ever closer to Jerusalem, faithful to his God-given purpose to the last. Neither the warnings of his frenemies, nor the threat of a crafty sovereign will deter him. All his todays and tomorrows are claimed until the third day comes: the day marking his death and his resurrection. Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem and he has taught his disciples—and all of us—what to expect when he arrives. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem…” Jerusalem becomes a character in Luke’s gospel and its companion work, Acts of the Apostles. Luke refers to the holy city 99 times—more than twice the references found in all the remaining books of the New Testament.1 Jerusalem is the site of holy ritual—where the infant Jesus is presented at temple; where the young Jesus comes for Passover each year. Jerusalem is the center of faith for all Judeans—a spiritual home for all who are left of the people of Israel. Pastor James Burns suggests that this is true for Jesus too.2 Here, as Jesus speaks his words of lament, you get the sense that Jerusalem personifies its people. Jesus mourns “the city that kills the prophets and stones the [messengers] sent to it” (Luke 13:34). I was struck by the language he uses. “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…” I kept thinking, THAT’s the story of Bible, isn’t it? God seeking us out—when we hide, naked and ashamed in the Garden of Eden. God seeking a covenant with Abraham and Sarah through which to bless all the earth. God sending a Son to reveal God’s essential self, to redeem the world and reconcile its people to their creator. Jesus expresses the God-longing that seeks relationship with human kind—that seeks to gather us in and shelter us like a mother hen. As a child, my spiritual center was sitting with my Mema, wrapped in my grandmother’s embrace. She was my refuge from the woes of the world—or at least the woes of being the youngest child, the tag-a- long, too little to participate, too big to whine about it. I remember being almost inconsolable when I realized that she was mortal—that this second mother, who encircled my life with love, might die. Jesus laments over Jerusalem, and he laments over the fate of the prophets sent to recall the people to God’s embrace. The voice of lament is most commonly found in the Psalms—more than a third of its 150 hymns and prayers cry out to God with longing for justice, for redemption, for safety, or for God’s presence. In Luke, the form of the a “city lament” is turned upside down. James Burns shares that “city laments rehearse how the city was abandoned… by God because of the people’ infidelity…” Yet as Jesus cries out over Jerusalem, it is the voice of God—crying out for lost children who have abandoned the heart of their faith. The rulers and the priests and the scribes and the Pharisees and even the ordinary people have sought security by maintaining the peace of Rome—rather than seeking the peace of God. They live for themselves rather than living with and for God, with and for each other.3 Jesus is not the first prophet to cry out to Judea—years before Jeremiah urges the people: Act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place… if you will not heed these words, I swear by myself, says the LORD, that this house shall become a desolation (Jeremiah 22:3-5). Jesus borrows both the language of lament from the Psalms and the image of God as mother-hen. In the shadow of God’s wings, the Psalter invites us to find shelter, refuge, help, and joy. Jesus cries out with longing to the people of Jerusalem—asking them to re-center their spiritual lives—to allow themselves to be gathered in to the arms of God’s compassion. I can imagine him—still looking at the Pharisees—as he says simply, “you were not willing... all that is left to you is this empty house.” Act with justice and righteousness, deliver the oppressed, do no wrong or violence, support the marginalized—the alien, the orphan, the widow. Shed no innocent blood. Jesus grieves over the city and those who turn from God’s embrace. Friday, which began as a day of sunshine and blue skies, became a day for lament as news filtered in from Christchurch, New Zealand. The personification of fear and hatred marched into two local mosques and demonstrated hate’s acrid power with violence and bloodshed. Fifty are dead—sons and daughters of Abraham—because they worshipped in the name of Allah. It is the same pain that gripped us when fear and hate walked into Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburg. Eleven dead—sons and daughters of Abraham—because they worshipped in the name of Yahweh. It is the same fear and hate stalked First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs and Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston. Twenty-six dead and nine dead—sons and daughters of Abraham—who worshipped in the name of Jesus Christ. What do we do with this? We can lament with the voice of Jesus. We can cry out with the voice of Jeremiah. We can seek to follow God’s calling: to act with justice and righteousness, deliver the oppressed, do no wrong or violence, support the marginalized, shed no innocent blood. We can follow Jesus. Jesus laments the city that kills the prophets—yet still holds the course toward it. He moves toward those who will receive him with the Passover acclamation, “blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” He will continue through the throng, knowing that some who praise him will also be among the crowds who seek the safety of the status-quo, crying out, “crucify him!” What is important is that Jesus moves TOWARD the people—God moves TOWARD the people— we are called to move TOWARD the people seeking to reclaim them to the ways of peace. The compassion of God will go to the cross and to the grave, and in resurrection will prove itself to be stronger than death. Pastor James Howell writes, “Solidarity with Jesus does not prop you up in a cheerful mood. We want to know, and to feel, the sorrows that God feels… Even as we labor for good in the world, we should pause to grieve.”4 And in our grieving, we consider how we too shall move toward the fearful in heart so that fear and hate might be overcome by love. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem.” Let us join Jesus in his lament—for ourselves and our neighbors—and let us respond faithfully God’s call to live with justice, compassion, and peace. Amen. 1 Craddock, Fred. “Luke.” Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching. eds. James L. Mays and Paul J. Achtemeier. Louisville: WJK, 1990. 174. 2 Burns, James C. “Pastoral Perspective: Luke 13:31-35.” Feasting on the Gospels: Luke. Vol 2. Louisville: WJK, 2014. 52. 3 Smith, Shively T J. “Connecting the Reading with Scripture: Luke 13:31-35.” Connections. YR C. Vol 2. Louisville: WJK, 2018.