Ignorance is the Pits
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.” ’
Last week we talked about a famished and exhausted Jesus. Well this week, we’re talking about another exhausted Jesus—but this time, his exhaustion is manifesting in some understandable anger and frustration. Now, if I had planned ahead a little better, I would probably would have bucked the lectionary order and switched next week’s Luke passage with this one— the order of these two passages makes very little sense to me. Because next week’s passage includes one of Jesus’ most famous parables, and it’s one of many, many parables he tells in the time leading up to what’s going on in this week’s passage. So when we hear him angrily dismissing Herod Antipas as “that fox,” and lamenting the fact that the people of Jerusalem aren’t willing or able to understand that Jesus is trying to protect them, trying to make the world a peaceful and good place, it’s coming from a place of extreme disappointment—he’s just spent so much time and energy during his ministry trying to explain to people how to make this world what it should be, and not enough people are listening. Not enough people really care.
So when this crew of a few Pharisees comes to warn Jesus that Herod Antipas wants him dead, he simply can’t be bothered. He seems to get almost a little impulsive, calling a the relatively powerful Antipas, the man who would have him killed, a “fox” which was a pretty dangerous insult at the time. He just seems fed up.
Have you ever been in a situation in which you have a good friend who’s in a really unhealthy or just unhappy relationship, or they’re in a really unhealthy job situation, and they just complain and vent to you constantly? Or maybe you’ve been that friend in the bad relationship? I know I’ve been on both side of that situation. And the more you try and try and try to gently make it clear they deserve better, that they deserve to be happy and comfortable and loved, but the friend, for whatever reason just can’t or won’t leave? It hurts seeing someone you love so unhappy. And I know for me, it’s gotten to the point where I’ve had to draw a boundary and say, “I love you, I’m here for you, but I can’t listen to this anymore, I can’t watch you get hurt over and over.” And it really hurts to get to that point—to be so out of advice and validating language that you have to cut someone you love and respect off like that, that you ask them to censor what they talk about with you. It can be really, really painful to the empathetic, loving, and kind people.
This all actually made me think of some things we talked about in our Our Whole Lives class last week—we were discussing LGBTQ issues, and we talked about the fact that, simply put, “ignorance is a problem.” Now, in the context of OWL, we were talking about it in terms of their not being enough accessible education about queer issues out in the world, so people grow up being ignorant of much of it, often through no fault of their own. But this simple and seemingly obvious idea that "ignorance is a problem” made me think of it on a more personal level—it made me think of Jesus’ frustration in this passage, and it made me think of our own frustration and discouragement in watching a loved one make the same mistakes over and over, and not realize that they deserve love and comfort. And it can seem like they’re ignorant of the fact that they deserve love—for whatever reason, maybe past traumas, maybe guilt from making past mistakes, these folks we tend to get so frustrated with stay in bad situations because they are ignorant of the fact that they deserve love. And ignorance is a tough thing to fight. There’s a reason the phrase “ignorance is bliss” exists. Whether we don’t want to face hard facts about the world and confront difficult realities, or whether it’s more personal, and it’s just easier ignoring our own demons and insecurities and staying in this dark place that might be dark, but it's what we know. In fact, I’ve had a friend who dealt with depression in the past who was really wary to try therapy or to go on any kind of medication or get any real help because he said it was afraid it would affect his songwriting—he was afraid it would change who we was; but he was actually just deeply insecure and didn’t think he was worthy of being free of that pain and sorrow.
One of my best friends, in fact, is a prime example of this—he’s a recovering alcoholic, and I’ve watched him relapse on more than one occasion right as his life starts to get back on track. He’s been through a lot in his life, and it’s come to the fact that he just doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love. He’s truly ignorant of the fact that he’s a funny, smart, caring, and wonderful human being who deserves love and friendship. I love this person dearly, but it has been so hard over the years to witness his ups and downs, to witness him self-sabotage just as he gets a new job, or just as he gets into a new living situation. It is exhausting and it hurts.
And so I’m thinking of Jesus, who loves us so much that he came to this earth, both human and divine, felt the sadness and dread we feel, knowing the pain and the death that awaited him, and watched so many he was preaching to ignore him, unwilling to listen or understand the type of sacrifice and love it really takes to make this an earth as it is in heaven. So when he’s warned about “that fox” Antipas wanting him dead, he’s over it. But here’s the thing—we mere human have reached our limits and have to draw boundaries, Jesus doesn’t. Jesus feels anger and frustration sure, and rightly so—but his response to the powerful wanting him dead, and the masses not quite getting it yet? He doesn’t give up— “I’m cashing out demons, I’m curing people, and I’ll do keep on doing it until my time is up!” Jesus doesn’t care! He knows his future is set in stone, he knows that only God is in control, and despite being scared and frustrated, he’s going to continue his work.
So I’ve mentioned this quote before, but I think it bears repeating in this context—years ago, the late Rev. Peter Gomes asked us to think instead of “what would Jesus do?” to think “what would Jesus have us do?” And I continue to think this is so important in today’s world. Holding ourselves to the same standard that Jesus was held to is a recipe for failure. Because we are only human. Jesus was fully human and full divine; Jesus was the child of God; Jesus was truly perfect. So even though he was exhausted and angry and frustrated, and even though he let these very human emotions show, he carried on.
But we are human. We have limits. We hit walls and we burn out. We inevitably will get the point when we have to draw boundaries for those we love who are struggling; we will get the point where we won’t have anything left in us. And when we get to this point, we can start feeling unworthy ourselves. All of a sudden we are ignorant of the fact that we need time and comfort and love as well, because we’ve given everything we have away, and sometimes it seems like it’s been for nothing. And that leads to giving up—that leads to despair. It leads to a whole bunch of people being convinced that they don’t deserve love and support.
But church, that’s why we have each other. You remember a few weeks back, when we were reading Paul writing to the Corinthians—so much of that letter was about how working together as one unit is the only way a society can survive. We can’t all do everything all the time. We need help. Everyone has their own gifts, and each of those gifts is equally important.
We try our best to be there for our loved ones who are struggling. We try our best to be an active listener, to offer advice when necessary, to try to steer people in the right direction. But sometimes our best isn’t good enough—and I’m not saying this as an insult or to make anyone feel less than. But we’re only human, and we just don’t have the capacity that Jesus had, and that’s okay. And so we have to work together, with those who have the right gifts to help those we love. That’s why support groups like AA and NA exist, that’s why psychologists and counselors exist, it’s why social workers exists; that’s why there’s a general rule of thumb, in our denomination, that when a parishioner is going through something and goes to the minister for counsel, we refer them to a mental health professional after the third visit, if it gets to that point. Because we’re only human, and we’ve prepared for certain situations, but not every situation. And so we have to look to others for help. We can’t do it all, as much as we may want to sometimes. And that’s okay.
“How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Jesus laments. As a hen gathers her brood under her wings. What a beautiful, protective, maternal image. And how infuriating that this is what Jesus wants, and people just don’t get it. Don’t we all just want to be loved and protected? So why, I wonder were the people in Jesus’ day so opposed to this comfort and protection Jesus was offering? I wonder if they were ignorant of the fact that they, that everyone deserves this kind of compassion and love? I wonder if they were just too used to living under oppressive Roman rule that they didn’t know any better, and they were scared to change. They were scared of what this new life Jesus was offering would entail—like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome to the oppressive status quo.
These days, between so many people voting against their own interests and the interests of the masses, the continued destruction of the environment, the continued dragging on of a status quo that is just not working, it seems clear to me that we are all, as a single body, ignorant of the fact that we deserve this mother hen type of protection and love that Jesus is so desperate to give us. We are ignorant of the fact that we must work to make this world one that is habitable; that we must work to make this society one that helps all people, that lets all people know that they deserve a good and fulfilling life.
Think about how hard it is to watch your loved ones struggle to know that they deserve love. Think about the times in your life when you’ve struggled to know that you deserve love, how painful those moments were. And think about the fact that you always have the love of God on your side. We may not be perfect like Jesus, and so we may not have the capacity to never burn out and become overwhelmed; but we can still think of what Jesus would have us do today— we can still be there for our struggling loved ones and for this whole struggling world to whatever extent is possible for us. We can still fight to make it known that every single person deserves love and protection and comfort; that every single person deserves to be gathered as a brood under those protective and loving wings. But in order to get to this point, we have to work together; we have to reach out for help; we have to work as one body, as one people. And we have to get to the point where not one single person on this earth is ignorant of the fact that they are loved. Amen.
