THE FOX
AND THE HEN
Celtic Worship -
March 7, 2004
TEXT:
Luke 13:31-35
In that classic John Ford film, The Quiet Man, which seems to show
up on our television screens each year around St. Paddy’s Day,
Sean Thornton wins the heart of Mary Kate Danaher. Or so he thought,
until realizes how important her dowry and possessions meant to her.
The Thornton, an American of Irish descent, doesn’t realize
that Mary Kate’s furniture is a link to her past and her home,
and the dowry money is a tradition that ensures stability and continuation.
The Celtic people felt a deep connection to the land and to family.
Ancestry
and geography are so intertwined that when an Irish person speaking Gaelic asks, “Who
are you?,” the question really is “Who are your people?” When
Americans are introduced to a stranger, the first thing we want to know is “what
do you do?” The Irish want to know how you are connected. “Who is
your family?” “Where do you belong?”
I’ve asked the Shanachians to incorporate into their repertoire today some
of the songs that are reflective of this strong Irish sense of family and connection,
especially when those bonds are severed. “Kilkelly, Ireland” is a
poignant example of how family ties reach across the ocean in a series of letters
expressing love and yearning for a son who has emigrated to America. The last
lines of each verse speak of coming home again. “The Fields of Athenry,” which
we drove past a few years ago, is a lament for a young husband sent to Australia
on a prison ship for stealing food to feed his family.
When Jesus was conducting his ministry, doing those things that helped people
find their resting place in God, some Pharisees came to warn him that Herod wants
to kill him. Jesus uses the analogy of the fox and the hen where the fox is intent
upon destruction and the hen is concerned with protection and nurturing.
The stories of the Greek ambassador, Aesop, were more six hundred years old,
but perhaps Jesus had heard of Aesop’s fable of the fox, the hen, and the
dog.
One moonlit night a Fox was prowling about a farmer's hen-coop, and saw a Hen
roosting high up beyond his reach. "Good news, good news!" he cried.
"Why, what is that?" said the Hen. "King Lion has declared a universal
truce. No beast may hurt a bird henceforth, but all shall dwell together in brotherly
friendship."
"Why, that is good news," said the Hen; "and there I see someone
coming, with whom we can share the good tidings." And so saying she craned
her neck forward and looked afar off.
"What is it you see?" said the Fox.
"It is only my master's Dog that is coming toward us. What, going so soon?" she
continued, as the Fox began to turn away. "Will you not stop and congratulate
the Dog on the reign of universal peace?"
"I would gladly do so," said the Fox, "but I fear he may not have
heard of King Lion's decree."
The fox was out-foxed by the hen. Jesus knew that Herod did not have the best
interest of the Jewish people in mind. Herod was King of the Jews, but he was
not Jewish. He was an Idumean who received his authority from Rome. Herod could
never quite understand the Jewish concept of “Tradition” the way
Tevye would explain it centuries later. Family was important. And Jesus talked
about the family of God where one found one’s home under God’s sheltering
wings. “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a
hen gathers her brood under her wings.”
While the Celtic peoples emphasized the importance of belonging, the concept
was universal and can be traced back to the Garden of Eden. The punishment for
the original sin is exclusion from Eden, being cast out of Paradise, being separated
from home, from the place of your beginning.
Heaven is return, of coming home, of living in God’s house. So Jesus, before
his death, would say that in his Father’s house are many rooms and that
he would go to prepare them for those who would follow. Heaven is restoration,
homecoming, a return to the nest. Herod the Fox may raid the henhouse and create
chaos and estrangement, but Christ the Hen shelters and protects and provides
the way of return.
The Celtic view is that where you belong is where you yearn to return. This sense
of belonging applies not only to family, to home, but also to the natural world.
For thousands of years there had always been a special relationship with the
earth. Trees were the repositories of tribal wisdom. Groves and springs were
the source of community support. Hilltops were for vision and inspiration. Sacred
stones arranged in circles aided access to the Eternal Spirit.
When Ireland became Christian, St. Patrick recorded his beliefs in the form of
a prayer known as a “lorica,” or “breastplate,” said
to protect the person who recited them. St. Patrick’s lorica was often
chanted at the beginning of the day:
I rise today
through the strength of heaven:
light of Sun,
brilliance of Moon,
splendor of Fire,
speed of Lightning,
swiftness of Wind,
depth of Sea,
stability of earth,
firmness of Rock.
The earth was home and one belonged to the earth, for it was out
of the earth that God created us.
We have come a long way from home. We treat the earth as enemy territory
to be ravaged and abused. In our postmodern society, we have lost
the sense of connection and rootage and family. Ayn Rand’s
philosophy of objectivism and rugged individualism has gained new
expression in our day where computers and television increase our
isolation. Social and service organizations are losing members as
Americans are becoming more disconnected from one another. Robert
Putnam, in his book Bowling Alone, shows how social structures
are disintegrating and the concept of community is collapsing. The
sense of alienation from society and the lack of a sense of responsibility
to others leads to increased crime and antimonial behavior.
The church has a role to fulfill in reversing this trend by adopting
the Celtic sense of belonging. You may wonder what church dinners,
discussion groups, social activities, and music and the arts all
have to do with the worship of God. God calls us into family, into
relationship, into a sense of belonging to each other. We do many
things at St. John’s. Not everything we do appeals to everyone,
but each activity, each opportunity for some part of the church to
come together, binds us together as a whole. We need to see that
and celebrate that.
We are in the midst of a Capital Campaign to raise funds to create
a facility where activities of inclusion can take place. The various
things that we do like Soul Café and Soul Cabaret, the Center
for Spiritual Renewal and Healing, Christian-Muslim Dialogues, Children’s
and Youth Ministries, community service and outreach such as the
Elizabeth Project, our fellowship activities, as well as the rich
diversity of our worship experiences all bring us together in many
ways and make us the Body of Christ. We need to cultivate that sense
of belonging and the realization that we are of the same Spirit and
Children of the same God, gathered under the wings of Christ. Let’s
work together to create a place where foxes and hens, lions and lambs,
turkeys and eagles will find a common home filled with the agape
love of God.
Dr. Harry L. Serio
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