This past summer, there was a young mother mallard who had her brood. And it was interesting to watch how she took care of all seven of them. When anyone approached the lake, she became immediately aware and would gather her little brood together and hustle them along to hide in the reeds and brush that surrounded the edge of the lake. Once, someone went really close to get a better look, and she flew away. I was surprised by that at first – a mother abandoning her young. But then it became obvious what she was up to: She was offering herself as a decoy. She wanted the intruders to notice and follow her, away form her ducklings. She was willing to sacrifice herself in order to protect her offspring.

Now maybe we can understand the lament and the passion in Jesus' own voice. It is the cry of a mother who is worried to death about not only Jerusalem, but about all of us. Like a mother, Jesus sees far more clearly than do we, the children, the danger we are in. Like a mother, Jesus knows we tend to overestimate our powers and are prone to go off on our own, leaving the protective wings, to seek our own excitement and adventure. And like a mother, Jesus chases after us.

Do you see the image? Like a mother, Jesus' love is so great that his all-consuming passion is to sweep us up into his protective arms. And although there are others in pursuit of him, namely Herod, Jesus, like a mother is persistent. He sticks to what his love compels him to do. He pursues his flock with a passion. His answer to Herod shows that: He has a little work to do in Galilee yet, a few chicks to sweep beneath his wings; and then, he is headed to Jerusalem, where he will, in essence, fly off from his chicks alone and draw God's judgment to him so that the jaws of death might sink their teeth into his flesh only, and not into his children whom he loves with a mother-hen's protective passion.