No one in the world
knows my pain, my sorrow,
my feelings of abandonment and dispair.

Everywhere I turn
the door is closed on me,
and I am isolated and fearful.

And, yet,
it is clear in the Gospel reading
that such isolation
and its resulting estrangement
are usually self-imposed
they are a matter of choice.

The darkness and fear are real, of course.
There really are weeping, and wailing,
and gnashing of teeth out there
among the animals of darkness.

We've all seen it
or even been there.

Luke contrasts that reality
as illustrated in the story
of the latecomer to a house
who finds the door barred
for the night.
with the God speaking in Jesus
who bursts into tears
at the intransigence that keeps
not God from his Creature
but his Creature from God.

Sometimes it takes
a lot of persuasion.
God had to do it with a Cross.

As an example,
have a look
at one of the giant mythological figures
of the Old Testament.

He felt that his world,
- his hopes,
were collapsing.

And how would you feel?
You are 99 years old
and a Hebrew
whose understanding of God's favor
is measured by two things:
Sufficient success on earth
and a male offspring
to carry on your name
to remember you always.

The first had been given him
he had goats and sheep
even servants aplenty,
but that was the sad joke
for they counted for nothing
without an heir.
I am childless, he lamented.
I shall truly die soon
with no memory, no hope.

Even the slave, Eliezer
will take over my flocks.

It is the epitome of despair.
Abraham feels old,
lost, and abandoned by God.

Where are you, God?
Where are your promises
when I decide I need you?

O, we have a few more techniques
to fight this kind of depression
than did Abram.

We have better drugs.
We have the temporary marvels of cosmetic surgery.
We have the medical advances
that can keep us around
if not alive,
for a few more days or weeks.

But how different are we, really
than this old man
who has reached what logically
is the end of his life and hope,
unfulfilled and unwanted.

Note this story:

In the midst of Abram's pain
God comes and hangs out with him.

He walks him out of his tent
and says,
Look up into the sky,
see the stars?

You shall not die barren, Abram,
look at the stars of the night sky;
so many will your descendants be.

And then God orchestrated
an ancient ritual
of split carcasses,
which was the equivalent
of the promise made by children
when I was little,
"Cross my heart
and hope to die"
if this is not true.

And, so God made a promise to Abram,
soon to be known as Abraham
once God gets finished with him;
"Cross my heart and hope to die"

And God kept that promise.
His son died.

God has made promises
to all who choose to live faithfully
by his vision
of what is good, and important, and true.

But who listened?

and the Prophets railed
until God had to make an intervention.
- Jesus came.

And in today's Gospel
Jesus confronts those who want God
to live up to his end of the bargain
but who have no intention
of living up to theirs.

And so the warning
about loosing the kingdom by default and defiance.

There will indeed be those left outside
because for their whole life
they have opted out.

But, that is not acceptable to God;
So comes Jesus on his journey
toward Jerusalem
and his collision with Godlessness
for all to see.

On his way
some Pharisees intercept him
and suggest that Jesus turn tail and run.

"Herod is waiting to entrap you,"
they say.
"Run for your life?"

Such flight would end Jesus' power
among the people,
so, Jesus laughs.
Nice try, he says
and calls the King a "Fox".

"Go tell that Fox for me
that I am going about my work,"
he said.

This does not mean
that Jesus considered Herod
to be crafty or wise,
but rather that he is the opposite
of a Lion,
by which animal Herod liked to be known.
He is a Fox.

There is a rabbinic saying
well-known to people at that time,
"It is better to be a lion's rear end
than a foxes head"

So, Jesus has just called the king
less than a lion's rear end,
to the amusement of the crowd,
and continues on his way,
by this time knowing
that he will surely die.

Jesus tops the rise of the Mount of Olives,
looks at Jerusalem
which God would have holy,
and breaks out in tears.

Our God looks at our self-will
and lack of vision for
and appreciation of
this precious life
he has given us,
and is broken hearted.

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem,"
he laments,
"How often would I have gathered you
under my wings
as a hen protects her chicks,
but you would not."

There is a chapel
some of you have seen.
It is perched on the side
of the Mount of Olives
overlooking Jerusalem from the east.

It commemorates this text
and the heartbreak of God.

It is formed in the shape
of a giant tear drop.

It is called, "Dominus Flivit:,
"The Lord wept."

A medallion on the altar front
depicts a hen
with her chicks protected
under its spread wings.
"How often -
but you would not."
Here is a true story, or so I am told,
by one Roger Haugen
who passed it on to me.

In the Midwest,
a prairie fire swept toward a farm,
and the farmer
- in plenty of time for them to escape
threw open the doors of the barn
for his animals to flee.

The fire swept through his barn
and the farm yard
where the chickens lived in the open.

Later the farmer came back
to see the extent of the damage.

There, in the open
was a dead mother hen
still sitting her nest,
in spite of her opportunity for escape,
her wings were spread,
blackened, burned.

When the farmer picked up
the dead hen
out scampered her 1/2 dozen chicks,
whole,
healthy,
untouched by the flames.

So,
choose your animal metaphor.

There is the lion's rear end,
representing all that is excessive
cruel, addictive, and fallen
about the systems and practices of the world,

and there is the hen
who gives her self
that her chicks might have life.

So is our God, shown in such nobility by Jesus,
who is the truth, the way and the life.

Choose your God wisely,

and live in his love.