"The word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision, "Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great." But Abram said, "O Lord GOD, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?" And Abram said, "You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir." But the word of the LORD came to him, "This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir." He brought him outside and said, "Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them." Then he said to him, "So shall your descendants be." And he believed the LORD; and the LORD reckoned it to him as righteousness."
--Genesis 15: 1-6
"Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved."
--Philippians 3: 17-4: 1
"Some Pharisees came and said to Jesus, "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.'""
--Luke 13: 31-55
One of the first stories I loved as a kid was the Fox and the Hound. Y’all remember that story? It was originally a novel written by Daniel P. Mannix in 1967, but like most children of the 80s and 90s I only knew the animated film. It tells the story of the unlikely friendship between a red fox named Tod and a hound dog named Copper, as they struggle with their emerging instincts and realize that they are meant to be adversaries. The title characters, who were done up in that classic Don Bluth animation – like The Sword in the Stone and The Black Cauldron – were adorable, and as I kid I really didn’t understand why Amos, Copper’s human, wanted to kill Tod. What’s so bad about foxes? Especially cute ones.
Herod Antipas was not cute, nor was his father, despite being called Herod the Great. The Herods were puppets of Rome, Jews who were put in charge of Roman occupied Palestine and who kept the masses in line in a quid pro quo that allowed them to stay in power with the title ‘King of the Jews.’ Nobody, but the Romans, that is, liked the Herods. They were traitors. Sneaky and cunning, and they would devour a whole family if it suited them. Like a fox in a henhouse. Not even the Pharisees thought they were cute.
This is a good reminder that the Pharisees are not the villains in the Gospel story – Rome is; in fact, without the Pharisees maintaining the history, teachings, and customs of the faith, Judaism would’ve disappeared completely after Rome destroyed the Temple in the year 70. That being said, they often do compete with Jesus, contentiously so on at times. Yet every now and then they seem genuinely to like him, they’re often curious about him and appreciate learning from him. In a moment that only happens in the Gospel of Luke, they come not to thwart Jesus but to warn him to leave Jerusalem because Herod is on the prowl to kill him.
Jesus is neither surprised nor frightened. You mean the guy who is in Rome’s back-pocket, who has his tax collectors charge way more than they should and robs the poor for pocket change, who has been hearing me call him and other agents of power out for their mistreatment of the poor, you mean he wants to kill me? What a shock! Go tell that fox – that sneaky so-and-so who devours the very people I’ve come among - that I’m doing what I was called to do, and then on the third day I’ll reach my goal and finish my work. What is the third day? Is it an allusion to the Resurrection? Is it literally supposed to be just two days after Jesus says this? I would consider that the third day is another piece of poetic imagery from Jesus, not a specific day or time, and that the goal of the work is to simply be faithful to it to the end. Despite what comes, to kept on keeping on.
This perseverance is a theme that runs through all of our Scriptures this week. Abram – not yet Abraham – has already been told by God to go from Ur of the Chaldeans with his family and to settle in a land that will be given to his descendants. In this week’s reading, fearful and concerned that the promise may have been in vain, Abram receives additional encouragement by God and a reminder that his descendants will outnumber the stars. Keep on keeping on. The Church in Philippi – Greece, not West Virginia – were living under the oppressive rule of Rome, and there were many disputes about what, if anything, they should do about it. The congregation’s fears were numerous, but Paul – who had seeded that congregation – writes to them while in prison and tells them not to give in to the same kinds of behavior as those lording over them, whose god is “the belly”; that is, their base desires for power, prestige, and possessions. Do not repair evil with evil. Keep on keeping on.
Many of us, even now, feel that we have reached a point when we must choose: do we turn away and ignore all the ills of our time, do we succumb to the rage and fear and lash out with violence, or do we keep moving forward, held fast in our hope, our faith, our Truth, with a capital T? If not the threat of physical death, then perhaps we face the potential for irreparable harm socially, emotionally, vocationally. Maybe not we ourselves but certainly people that we love. What do we do?
There is no simple answer to that, but holding steady to what we know is good and right and true is more important now than maybe it has ever been. It matters that the story of Jesus is set during a time of occupation and oppression, and it matters that Jesus doesn’t seem to do anything about it. He doesn’t raise an army against Herod and his Roman puppeteers. He doesn’t replace one kind of top-down power with another. He keeps doing what he is called to do. Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willoman authored a book called Resident Aliens, in which they reject the idea that America is a “Christian” nation and instead suggest that we model Jesus’ behavior, as resident aliens in a foreign land, living lives that model a new set of ethics, grounded in the non-violent principles of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The Church, as we know, doesn’t have a great track record when it gets in bed with civil authorities – Manifest Destiny, the slave trade, and capitulation to the Nazis were all sanctioned by the institutional Church. I wonder, perhaps, if Hauerwas and Willoman’s argument is the playbook for us right now, as fascism has arrived full stop, draped in the American flag and wearing a cross around its neck. Because the reality is that this is a foreign land to Jesus, a land that maintains worship of power, prestige, and possessions, that tries to be the new Rome for its day. Christianity was always anti-establishment, a survival mechanism forged in the cauldron of occupation and annihilation. Perhaps, like Jesus, like the Philippians, and like Abram, our call is to keep showing up, keep listening to and trusting the Holy Spirit when she speaks to us, even if we cannot see what the outcome will be. It is the most faithful farmer, after all, who plants the seeds that she will never see grow.
Jesus wept over Jerusalem when he looked out and saw a city held in the grip of fear, that always seemed to choose top-down, human power over the sacrificial, power-with-and-through of God. On the Mount of Olives today you can go to the Church of Dominus Flavit – the Lord wept – shaped like a tear, and look out over the same city through a window behind the altar. And you’ll notice on the front of the altar a mosaic depicting a hen, with her chicks gathered round, piercing her breast so they can feed. The foxes are at the gate – many are wearing crosses and quoting the bible. They are eager to devour the hen and her chicks. We know their names. We also know the name of the hen – Jesus – whose very body and blood feed us, and under whose wings we find our shelter and safety. We will not be deterred. We will keep moving, keep praying, keep listening, trusting, and working. These foxes ain’t cute. They’re cowards. And together we will face them, these powers and principalities, until the day when our work is done. Like First Aid Kit sang: we won’t take the easy road, gotta keep on keeping on.