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 away from 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.’”

The Christian story is often more complex and nuanced than we sometimes make it out. Perhaps it’s our tendency to simplify stories in order to make the most of them. Or maybe it’s our lack of tolerance for ambiguity that influences us to ignore some of the challenging details. But whatever the reason, we sometimes smooth out the Christian story and miss some vital, if also more nuanced, elements of it.

Two examples from this passage are worth our attention. First, notice that the ones who come to warn Jesus about Herod’s deadly intent are Pharisees. It may be that they don’t trust Herod and so are eager to make common cause with Jesus against him. But I don’t think so. I think that whatever their differences, these Pharisees at least saw Jesus as one of their own, a teacher who loves the law of God and the people of God. Which is really helpful for us to remember. In most of the story, Jesus and the Pharisees are opponents, and some of the harsher words Jesus utters are directed at them. But here they look out for his welfare, warning him when his life is in danger.

Can we also be open to the possibility that we might receive help and aid from those we believe to be our opponents? And if we can imagine that, might we also be on the lookout to contribute to the welfare of those with whom we disagree, even those we have experienced as oppositional? Being willing to be surprised by those we’ve already categorized as against us is, I think, one of the true marks of personal maturity and predictors of a rich and full life.

Second, notice how much anguish Jesus experiences. We often read the Gospels through the lens of creeds and confessions written centuries after Jesus’ life and ministry, creeds that emphasize the importance of Jesus’ divinity. And this sometimes influences us to overlook his humanity. But here, at this moment of extremity when he has heard that his life is in jeopardy, Jesus comes through as thoroughly and even painfully human. He knows he must be about his work to cure and cast out and heal, and he knows it will not end until he reaches Jerusalem. Moreover, he knows that when he reaches Jerusalem his ministry of healing will reach its climax in his death, a death that is violent and unfair and awful but will also heal the world. No wonder, then, that he cries out like a discarded lover or distraught parent. For he loves this city that will kill him. He loves this people that reject him. He loves this world that ignores him.

I recognize the importance for the Church to confess Jesus’ divinity – it is a way to validate that his death and resurrection have cosmic significance. But I also think it’s crucial for us to hear and claim his full humanity, for in Jesus’ cries of despair and desperation we hear our own cries. In his lament we recognize our own. In his agony and frustration he gathers up all the agony and frustration of our life in this world and offers it to God, that we may know God hears and understands and accepts and loves all of us – the good, the bad, the desperate, the hopeful – all of it; all of us.

Prayer: Dear God, as we remember the life and labor of your Son may we also recall that although he came from you he was also one of us, and that he – and also you – love and accept us as we are. In Jesus’ name, Amen.