Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent – March 17th, 2019

The Lament over Jerusalem

31 At that very hour some Pharisees came, and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 And he said to them, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course. 33 Nevertheless I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.’ 34 O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! 35 Behold, your house is forsaken. And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’”

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

 

It almost sounds like something out of a 1940s mob movie – these Pharisees sidle up to Jesus and whisper, “You need to get outta town – Mr. Big’s got a contract out on you.”

 

But what doesn’t sound at all like something out of one of those movies is how Jesus responds – not by saying, “Thanks for the tip, I’m gone!” but by calling Herod a “fox” and saying that he was going to keep doing exactly what he’s been doing.

 

If there is one thing that we can say about Jesus, it is that he was courageous. He did not shy away from going toe to toe with the authorities – not the Temple leaders, not the Sanhedrin (the Jewish council), not the Pharisees, not even the Romans.

 

 

Jesus had what today call “the courage of conviction.” His entire earthly being was committed to his mission – and he was determined to complete that mission, no matter what the danger it presented to his human self. To use another modern phrase, Jesus had “skin in the game.” He knew what the end of his earthly ministry was going to be – a gruesome, painful death on the cross; and not even the fact that he was the Chosen One of God would make that death any less painful. That’s the kind of courage we honor and revere, and which we are called on to emulate, in our own lives and in our own ways.

 

Jesus has a mission. And nothing will dissuade him, or knock him off course.

 

Have you ever noticed that it takes Luke 10 chapters from the moment when we read that “Jesus set his face toward Jerusalem” to the moment when he actually gets there? What does he do in those 10 chapters?

 

What he does in those 10 chapters is vitally important. We have a tendency to overlook what he does on the way to Jerusalem, because, after all, the Cross and the Resurrection are the defining things about Christianity and the fulfillment of God’s purpose. But if we step back and slow down and pay attention to these ten chapters, it’s impossible not to notice that no matter how determined Jesus may be to get to Jerusalem, he nonetheless takes time along the way to heal those who are ill, to teach his disciples and the crowds who follows him, to challenge his opponents, to bless children, to bring those who have been pushed to the side back into the community, to free those held captive to spirits that would rob them of abundant life, to share stories about God’s unending love, to argue for persistence in prayer and the pursuit of justice, and to lament all those who refuse God’s embrace and cling instead to the protections and prizes of the world.

And all of this matters! No matter how significant the cross is, yet what Jesus says and does on the way to Jerusalem matters, too. In this passage, midway on his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus displays a determination and a courage that is inspiring even as he grieves over those who refuse the way of love. He has done a lot already, and there is more to do. It is not yet the third day, and he will continue “casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow.”

Here’s an odd thing: Our lesson for this morning gives us yet another – quite unexpected – example of courage, in the very first sentence of the lesson: “At that very hour some Pharisees came, and said to him, ‘Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.’”

 

Why could this be seen as an act of courage? Well, to continue with the “mob movie” metaphor, they were going against the will of their Mr. Big by tipping Jesus off. People who did that, then and now, have a very short life expectancy.

 

But another mind-boggling thing about this is that these people were Pharisees!

Incredible, but true. Some scholars will tell you that it is, not just possible, but quite likely that Jesus was himself a Pharisee. This would explain, among other things, why he was so sharp with them, and why what he said rankled them so much – he knew these people, so he also knew what buttons to press.

So, it may be that we have an account here of some Pharisees who were not “bad guys,” but a minority of Pharisees who were actually on Jesus’ side. Remember that Nicodemus, who came to Jesus by night, was a Pharisees. Maybe, then, it’s possible that some of the Pharisees who came to Jesus that day agreed with him, or at least with some of what Jesus said. Maybe they didn’t agree with him at all, but he was “one of them,” so they felt obligated to give him a warning.

Other writers say, no, nothing of the sort. They tell us that this was just as self-serving an act as any of the others that we read about. They tell us that these Pharisees, like all the others, just wanted Jesus gone – but they didn’t want his “removal” to be blamed on their leader. As much as they hated Herod, they figured that anything he did to Jesus would reflect back on them and that had to be avoided at all costs. So they do the only logical thing – they warn Jesus to get out of town. Maybe they figured that Jesus would flee their jurisdiction and walk right into the hands of the Romans. Then he would be Pilate’s problem, and they could blame him for whatever happened.

I’m not so sure. I’m willing to believe that there were some faithful, well-meaning, and courageous people among the Pharisees who did not want anything unpleasant to happen to Jesus – it didn’t matter that their beliefs were worlds apart from his, they still believed, as decent people do today, too, that differences of opinion didn’t automatically make enemies of others.

 

And by sticking their necks out, as Jesus also was doing by not heading for the hills, gives us an example of yet another kind of courage – the courage of vulnerability. And that is, at least in part, really the heart of today’s story.

As David Lose puts it, “[The Pharisees] tell Jesus to run and save his life…and that Jesus refuses. Instead, he will keep to the road appointed, traveling the arduous path to Jerusalem to meet his death there like so many earlier prophets of God. This commitment to embrace his dark and difficult destiny for the sake of humanity is the very embodiment of this second kind of courage.

“To be honest, I’ve noticed this before,” Lose writes, “admiring the steadfast courage that Jesus displays in moving forward to Jerusalem and the cross on behalf of the world God loves so much. What struck me this time around, however, is the absolutely critical role that vulnerability plays in this kind of courage. To anticipate challenge and suffering and not look away is, by definition, to make oneself vulnerable for the sake of others.”[1] Or, as the Apostle Paul puts it, “My strength is made perfect in weakness” (II Corinthians 12:9).

Courage is being vulnerable for the sake of others. Not at all the usual definition of courage, is it? When we think of vulnerability, we think of weakness – like Kryptonite to Superman – something that is the polar opposite of courage. Really courageous people – the John Waynes of the world – never show vulnerability.

And yet, being vulnerable is at the very core of the Christian life. You don’t get very far in connecting with another person by giving off the impression that you have it all together. They aren’t likely to share their fears and their needs if you don’t do the same. Saying to another, “I love you; tell me what’s going on, so I can help,” while you keep your cards close to your chest, simply doesn’t produce the desired result. Good things only happen when you open up yourself, and share your trials, too. You can only help heal others’ hurts when you risk being hurt yourself.

This characteristic that Jesus embodies is that God becomes vulnerable to all the ups and downs of human life by becoming one of and one with His children through the incarnation. He sets aside all His awesome power, becomes one with us, becomes vulnerable, in order to die on the cross and reconcile us to Himself.

This is the takeaway for all of Lent – this is the time of the year when we reflect on what it means to us that Jesus became vulnerable so that we might live.

Let us be thankful and respond!

In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.

[1] Lose, David, “…in the Meantime,” http://www.davidlose.net/2016/02/lent-2-c-courage-and-vulnerability/