"JESUS' GRIEF"

Luke 13:31-35 March 16, 2025 We do not find any mention of Jesus laughing in the Bible, but we see that Jesus wept three times. The first instance was at the death of Lazarus (John 11:35). The second was in Gethsemane, as He prayed for strength before facing the cross (Matthew 26:37-38; Hebrews 5:7). The third, found in today’s Gospel passage, was over the city of Jerusalem. Today’s passage begins with some Pharisees warning Jesus, saying, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you” (31). Jesus may have been traveling through Herod's territory at the time. While it’s possible that some well-meaning Pharisees wanted to protect Jesus for his safety, some scholars suggest that the warning from certain Pharisees was driven by malicious intentions, as they sought to force Jesus out of their region. In fact, Herod didn't even want to kill John the Baptist (Mark 6:20). However, it is important to note that there were also some Pharisees, such as Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, who were sympathetic toward Jesus. In response to the warning, Jesus dismisses it with coldness, referring to Herod as a "fox." “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” (32) The term “fox” in that culture symbolized cunning and deceit. In Jewish tradition, foxes were also seen as unclean scavengers. However, Jesus does not let fear change His course. He declares that He will continue His mission—casting out demons, healing the sick, and ultimately completing His work on the third day, foreshadowing His resurrection. Then, suddenly, Jesus shifts His focus from Herod to Jerusalem itself. He laments, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those sent to it! How often I have longed to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing (34)!” it reveals Jesus’ deep sorrow over the city's rejection of God, and he wept as he foresaw the destruction of Jerusalem (Luke 19:41). Jesus compares Himself to a mother hen. Why not a lion, an eagle, or another strong animal? A hen is not powerful in the usual sense—she has no fangs or claws. We usually refer to God as Father, but many Scriptures also depict God with the image of a mother. Isaiah said, “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem” (Isaiah 66:13). While society often perceives women as weak, a mother is strong. A hen fiercely protects her chicks, even at the cost of her own life. Jesus, like the hen, willingly sacrifices Himself to save His people. In the end, the fox—Herod and the forces of evil—may have taken His life, but not His victory. This image of Jesus weeping and grieving contrasts with the usual picture of Him as a teacher and healer. It teaches us something profound about God’s heart. Many imagine God as quick to anger, ready to punish us for our sins. But here, we see God’s sorrow, not wrath. Sin is not just about breaking rules—it is about being separated from God in word, deed, or thought, and that distance breaks God’s heart. It is like the pain a parent feels when their child turns away from them. As Presbyterians, we believe that God not only has the character of a father but also the heart of a mother, with a parent’s spirit to protect and comfort their child. That is why I call God "God" rather than "He," though I accept the term "Father" as a traditional reference. God is our parent, who grieves over our sins, grieves with us, and does not merely stand in terrible judgment over us. Throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s persistent love for God’s people despite their repeated rejection. Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem echoes God’s cries over our own brokenness today. Yet, despite humanity’s failures, God’s love never ceases. Even after rejection and suffering, Easter came—sin and death were defeated. But before the resurrection, there was sorrow. Before Easter, there was the cross. As we journey through Lent, we are reminded not to rush toward Easter without first acknowledging the weight of the cross. We must sit in the reality of our brokenness, recognizing the pain and injustice in the world. However, our sorrow should not lead us to despair. Instead, like Jesus, we should allow our grief to draw us closer to God. Lent is a time for reflection. As we consider our sins, let us not be discouraged but instead see ourselves as God sees us—with both truth and love. When we weep over our own failings, we are not alone. Jesus, too, wept. And just as He longed to gather Jerusalem like a mother hen, He longs to gather us in His love. I love the song based on Psalm 91, “You Who Dwell in the Shelter of the Lord,” which describes God with eagle-like, masculine qualities: “You who dwell in the shelter of the Lord, who abide in this shadow for life, say to the Lord: ‘My refuge, my Rock in whom I trust!’ ‘And I will raise you up on eagle’s wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of my hand.’” God’s arms are always open to receive us, to wipe away our tears, and to renew us. May our eyes turn upon Jesus, and may He wipe away our tears so that we may dry them together! Amen.