March 13, 2022: Full to the Brim: Under God’s Wing
Luke 13:31-35
Rev. Rhonda Blevins
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 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.’”
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There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, “What the [heck] is water?”
This is a parable told by David Foster Wallace in a brilliant speech to the graduating class of Kenyon College in 2005. He went on to explain the meaning of the story:
If you’re worried that I plan to present myself here as the wise old fish explaining what water is, please don’t be. I am not the wise old fish. The immediate point of the fish story is that the most obvious, ubiquitous, important realities are often the ones that are the hardest to see and talk about.
He goes on to encourage the bright-eyed graduates to wake up from sleepwalking through life with their minds on “default” imagining that they are the center of the universe. He told them that they could choose how to think about things—and that the choice to think about situations differently is the epitome of freedom.
That guy who cut you off in the roundabout? Obnoxious jerk? Maybe. Or he might be a terrified dad rushing his injured kid to the hospital.
The friend who hurt your feelings? Was it all about you? Possibly. Or maybe your friend has a lot on her plate, and she didn’t realize she was being insensitive.
That pundit on cable news influencing you think a certain way? Is that the best interpretation? Maybe. Or you can switch news channels and try on a different interpretation.
The ability to see things from different vantage points—from 30,000 feet if you will—is a hallmark of higher-order thinking. Some people who study human cognition suggest that less than 5% of the global population operates at this level.[1]
Jesus operated at this level. He didn’t sleepwalk through life; rather he challenged status quo thinking. He was no slave to fear or to the tyranny of the urgent.
Consider the scripture text we read together a moment ago. Jesus is traveling from town to town, teaching, healing, casting out evil spirits as he makes his way to Jerusalem. And as he nears Jerusalem, something interesting happens. In the New Testament, when we read about the Pharisees, they’re usually cast in a negative light, but in this passage, they seem to want to help Jesus: “Get away from here,” they admonish him, “for Herod wants to kill you.”
For a bit of backstory, remember that Herod killed Jesus’ cousin, John. Herod had John beheaded and presented the severed head to his niece on a platter. So this warning that Herod wanted to kill Jesus—this was not some empty threat. Herod had both the motivation and the wherewithal to kill Jesus.
Just for fun, let’s play out this text imagining Jesus responding the way most of us would respond to this terrifying news:
“Whoa! Seriously? Oh man, oh man. He wants to kill me? You know, I can go to Jerusalem another time. I just remembered I’ve got a doctor’s appointment up in Galilee the day after tomorrow, do you know how hard it is to get an appointment these days? Not to mention gas prices. I’d better go home before they get even higher.”
As homo sapiens our default response to fear is fight or flight. That scenario was flight—that was phobic Jesus. Now let’s look at how a counterphobic Jesus might respond, seeking out a situation that he fears in order to try to overcome that fear:
“Herod wants to kill me? That scumbag! Not if I kill him first. OK Peter, I want you to find weapons for everyone, swords, spears, clubs, tanks, drones—everyone needs a weapon. Matthew, you find out Herod’s schedule, when he’ll be on the road. We’ll attack his convoy when it’s most vulnerable. Judas, how much money is in our war chest? Figure out how we’re going to pay for this. Everyone else, we’re going to postpone healing and teaching and casting out evil spirits and we’re going to devote our time to weapons training and military strategy. Let’s go!”
See how both of these are possible responses to fear? Fight or flight, phobic or counterphobic, these are the default, automatic responses to fear or threat. This is our “reptilian brain” in action—that part of our brain that helped our species survive attacks from saber-tooth tigers. It’s unconscious, autonomic. The phrase “fight or flight” was coined originally by American physiologist Walter Cannon, but physiologists and psychologists have refined Cannon’s work, offering a better understanding of the human response to fear or threat. The updated nomenclature is: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn.
Have you ever been so scared you couldn’t speak or move? Or to a lesser intensity, have you been stuck in a rut, frozen, unable to move forward, psychologically paralyzed? That’s the freeze response.
The fawn response tries to please so as to avoid conflict: the employee who really needs the job kissing up to the boss or the victim of domestic violence doing whatever it takes to keep the abuser happy. Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn.
Jesus could have responded by FIGHT—taking up arms against Herod.
Jesus could have responded by FLIGHT—catching the next Uber back to Galilee.
Jesus could have also had a FREEZE response, paralyzed by fear, he could have hunkered down in hiding in some small village outside Jerusalem.
Jesus could have chosen a FAWN response, going to Herod, apologizing for any “misunderstanding,” kissing up, offering to lead his followers toward fealty to Rome.
Did Jesus respond in any of these ways? Was his response to the very real and credible threat that Herod presented to fight? To flight? To freeze? To fawn? No. Let’s look again at how Jesus responded:
“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.”
Not fight, not flight, not freeze, not fawn, but FOCUS. Because Jesus was completely and entirely focused on each day as it came, he didn’t have time to worry about what Herod might or might not do. Facing a very real existential threat, Jesus focused on the work at hand.
Oh, that we would be more like Jesus!
We face existential threats of all kinds. It was two years ago this week that the World Health Organization declared COVID-19 a pandemic. It was two weeks ago that Russia invaded Ukraine causing some to wonder if we’re witnessing the start of World War III. If you find yourself anxious and afraid, there are ample reasons to feel anxious and afraid.
Given the real and credible threats we face, let’s take our cue from Jesus—how he responded to real and credible threats against his very existence. It wasn’t fight. It wasn’t flight. It wasn’t freeze. It wasn’t fawn. It was . . . FOCUS.
Here’s some advice from C. S. Lewis in an article he wrote entitled, “On Living in an Atomic Age”:
The first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.[2]
That was written in 1948. Existential threats are nothing new to us mortals.
In the book of Psalms, we find the psalmist offering comfort to people facing war and disease:
You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,
will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;
my God, in whom I trust.”
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence;
he will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
or the arrow that flies by day,
or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
or the destruction that wastes at noonday.
—Psalm 91:1-6
Under God’s wings we find refuge, the psalmist reminds us. And in the Lukan text we read together, Jesus likens himself to a mother hen who gathers her chicks under the shelter of her wings, safe from the fox who seeks to destroy.
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!
I recently started watching a reality show called “Alone” on Netflix. The season I’m watching features ten contestants, all survival experts, dropped completely alone in the arctic wilderness, without even a camera crew. If they survive 100 days alone in the arctic, they win one million dollars. Contestants can bring 10 items: most bring an axe, a fire starter, a sleeping bag, a pot, etc. These survivalists encounter all kinds of animals—small animals like rabbits and squirrels and porcupines . . . dinner! They also encounter some pretty terrifying animals: wolves, wolverines, and bears. During their first few days alone in the wilderness, some of the contestants find it hard to sleep because they’re terrified of these predators. So they each work feverishly to build shelter for protection from predators, but also to protect them from the subzero temperatures they will soon face.
Shelter, as you know, is one of three basics of human survival along with food and clothing. Humans need shelter. With proper shelter, we can live in the midst of predators and in the harshest conditions.
Does it come as any surprise, then, that Jesus wants to shelter the people of Jerusalem? There’s a fox on the loose by the name of Herod. The fox’s mother is out there too, that vixen, the Roman Empire. Jesus so wants to gather the people up away from empire. He laments that he cannot do so in his lifetime. But Jesus offers a bit of foreshadowing—heralding the events of holy week when he says:
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.’”
And we know how the story ends—that in time, all of humanity will be under his wing—that death will be defeated once and for all at the resurrection on that first Easter Sunday. Alleluia!
If Christ defeated death once and for all, what else is there to fear?
Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
There is nothing left to fear! (But would somebody please tell that to my limbic system?)
Why, then, do we still experience fear? Reptile brain. What do we do when our reptile brains take over and fear has us in its evil grip? Fight? Flight? Freeze? Fawn?
Maybe. Depending on the nature of our fear. But for existential threats over which we have no control, remember the fifth option that Jesus shows us . . .
Focus. We can focus on “human things.” Pray or work or read or listen to music or bathe the children or play tennis or chat with friends over pint and a game of darts. All of these beautiful things are ours when we remember that we live and move and have our very being under God’s wings.
Remember the two young fish from the parable at the beginning of my homily? Most of us are those fish, unaware that we’re swimming in water. We live our lives unaware that we are sheltered underneath the wings of God because it’s always been true and there’s no reality outside of that reality.
The invitation today is this—to become the older fish—to become aware of a bigger, deeper, wider reality. And with this deepened awareness, gently point others to it so that they’re not afraid.
Find yourself under God’s wing so that you can
Free yourself from the grip of fear so that you can
Focus yourself on beautiful human things despite the existential threats that surround.
What beautiful, human thing needs your focus this week? Go ye therefore and do that!
[1] In Spiral Dynamics, less that 5% of the global population operates at Tier II cognition.
[2] https://research.lifeway.com/2020/03/19/no-c-s-lewis-would-not-tell-you-to-ignore-the-coronavirus/