wrapped in love (a sermon on Luke 13:31-35)

As we continue through our Lenten series today, you’ll notice that a few things have been added to the sanctuary - another window panel, depicting a rooster and a hen, and this sweet hen here at the front. As we think about what God’s outstretched arm provides, our focus this week is on God’s arms of protection. 

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

We find this image in today’s Gospel reading with the powerful description of God as a mother hen, desiring to gather her brood under her wings to protect them from danger. The other readings, too, echo this theme of refuge, protection, and care. In Genesis, God responds to Abram’s anxiety and uncertainty about the future with the words, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield.” In the Psalm, God is described as a stronghold and shelter, hiding and protecting us in the day of trouble. 

It’s no surprise that this imagery arises again and again in Scripture. There are always worries and troubles, always need for protection and assurance. We know the feelings of fear, exhaustion, and overwhelm that leave us desperate for a place of refuge and safety. We know what it is to be crushed by the weight of our responsibilities, bombarded by the pain and heartache of the world, or burdened by illness, grief, or the challenges of life together. 

In all circumstances, God desires to provide a place of safety and shelter, of protection and refuge and rest. But although God offers us refuge and protection, we sometimes find ourselves running in the opposite direction. It may be that we do not wish to show any weakness, and so we do our best to shelter and protect ourselves. Perhaps we are angry with God, thinking of times in the past when our cries for protection and safety seemed to go unheard. Or, maybe it is shame or regret that holds us back, as we convince ourselves that God’s refuge couldn’t possibly be for us. 

Whatever the reason may be, when the mother hen stretches out her wings to gather her brood under them, we are not willing. Confused, hurt, angry, lost - we run away, seeking out some other source of comfort and peace.

Ultimately, though, the other places we go for refuge will fail us or fall short. Eventually, the weather gets too cold to distract ourselves in the garden or workshop. Eventually, the water in the shower turns icy, the kids find us hiding in bed, the numbness we’ve sought fades away, the movie ends, the money runs out, our friends go home.

But even when it seems that we are alone, God never abandons us. God’s fierce, protective love for us goes to great lengths to provide us with refuge and protection. How far will God go to reach us? Even to death. 

On the cross, God meets us in our weakness and our suffering and draws us close when we are left with nothing else. On the cross, Jesus stretches out his arms to embrace the whole world, a mother hen spreading her wings to shelter her chicks. When it all seems like too much, when we are in need of refuge and rest, God wraps us in grace and assures us that we do not face our trials alone.

Whether your particular weariness or fear seems big or small compared to all that is happening in the world these days, know that God’s protection and safety are for you. God hears your worry and pain and loneliness and desires to draw you in for protection and care. 

As we huddle under the mother hen’s wings, we find that we are not alone, but rather surrounded by others. We find, too, that the way God shelters, protects, and cares for us is in fact through the gift of one another. We are called to participate in making spaces of refuge and protection for those who are vulnerable. Joined together as the Body of Christ, we are the wings that spread in welcome, protection, and love. 

In the news over the past few weeks we’ve seen many examples of this fierce, protective love in the face of danger. Coming out of Ukraine are images of helpers shielding refugees from bomb blasts, ordinary people defending their homeland, and families caring for one another in the subway tunnels that have become makeshift homes. Journalists are providing protection and care by broadcasting the truth of what is taking place. The citizens of neighboring nations have welcomed those fleeing Ukraine with the refuge of a warm meal and a place to stay.

Here in the US, we’ve seen this fierce, protective love in the many people rallying in support of LGBTQ children and teens in response to harmful bills working their way through state legislatures. Organizations and individuals have offered spaces of refuge and safety as vulnerable kids and their families wait to see what comes next. 

Closer to home, sometimes this kind of love looks like collecting food for City Mission, providing not only nourishment for hungry bellies, but also the reminder that someone cares. Other times it looks like walking alongside someone who is grieving, offering the refuge of a listening ear and warm embrace. It may look like sending money to places around the world so desperate for protection and care, or speaking out on behalf of those who are in harm’s way.

As we look out at the trouble, danger, and heartache so visible in the world, we rejoice in a God who gathers us together, wraps us in her wings of care, and shields and protects us with her own body. For this gift of grace, we give thanks.


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