As a Hen Gathers Her Brood

Most of us spend a good part of our lives building defenses. We guard our reputations, our savings, and our feelings. We learn which subjects to avoid at work, which relatives to steer around at Thanksgiving, and which convictions to keep quiet so nobody thinks we’re strange. Some of that is ordinary prudence. A lot of it is fear wearing prudence’s clothes, and the faith gets folded into the same strategy: believe, but keep it low; pray, but don’t let it cost anything. Underneath sits a conviction we’d never say out loud. We think the safest place for us is the shelter we built ourselves, with God’s protection added on top as a kind of insurance.

Today’s readings knock that shelter down from two sides. Paul, writing in chains, tells the Ephesians to put on “the whole armor of God” so they can “stand against the wiles of the devil,” and then asks them to pray that he will speak “boldly, as I ought to speak.” In the Gospel some Pharisees bring Jesus friendly-sounding advice: “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” Jesus sends a message back to “that fox,” keeps walking toward the city that kills the prophets, and grieves over it: “How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!”

Franciscan Media remembers today Saint Narcissus of Jerusalem, bishop of that same city at the end of the second century, who was slandered by his enemies, slipped away into solitude, and then came back to take up his flock again. So here’s the question these readings put to you and me: whose protection are we really counting on?

The Readings

First Reading: Ephesians 6:10-20

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore take the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; above all taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that utterance may be given me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains; that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.

Gospel: 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.” And he said to them, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course. Nevertheless I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following; for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.’ O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! Behold, your house is forsaken. And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’”

Scriptural Analysis

Today we reach the end of Ephesians, and Paul closes the letter the way a general speaks to his troops before battle. Peter Williamson, in the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, compares it to a coach at halftime whose team is far ahead, thanks to Christ’s victory, but who knows the other side is “crafty and capable.” Paul’s first command is “be strong in the Lord.” Williamson points out that the Greek verb is passive, literally “be strengthened in the Lord.” The strength is Christ’s, and our job is to lean on it. Then “Put on the whole armor of God.” The word is panoplia (pan-oh-PLEE-ah), which Margaret MacDonald, in the Sacra Pagina commentary, calls the usual term for a foot soldier’s full armor, defense and offense together.¹

Against whom? “The wiles of the devil.” The word for wiles is methodeia (meh-tho-DAY-ah), and MacDonald notices that Paul used it two chapters earlier for false teachers (Ephesians 4:14). The devil is wily and hunts for openings. Williamson draws the practical lesson: the danger that should worry us is being “deceived or tricked by him,” far more than being overpowered. Then Paul says we contend against “the principalities” and “the powers.” His word for the contest is palē (PAH-lay), a wrestling term, and Williamson says it shows “the up-close and personal nature of the conflict.” The opponent is close enough to grab, and he hides behind the coworker or the brother-in-law we’d rather blame. The Catechism says that a world lying “in the power of the evil one” “makes man’s life a battle.”²

Then the armor, piece by piece, and Paul quotes Isaiah as he goes. The belt of truth comes from the Messiah’s own outfit (Isaiah 11:5), the breastplate of righteousness and the helmet of salvation from the Lord’s (Isaiah 59:17), and the feet ready with “the gospel of peace” echo the messenger whose feet are beautiful upon the mountains (Isaiah 52:7). Williamson’s point is that the armor of God is first God’s own armor. To put it on is to take up the attitudes and actions that unite us with the victorious Messiah.³

Start with the shield. Paul’s word is thyreos (thoo-reh-OS), built on the Greek for “door,” and MacDonald describes the long, oblong shield that covered a soldier’s whole body. Williamson gives its size, four feet tall and two and a half feet wide, made of wood under thick leather, and “the leather was sometimes soaked in water to quench arrows tipped with flaming pitch.” That detail matters, because MacDonald explains that flaming arrows could render shields useless and send soldiers fleeing in terror. A dry shield could catch fire; a soaked one put the fire out. Saint Thomas Aquinas says faith works the same way: it “quenches present and transitory temptations with the eternal and spiritual blessings promised in Holy Scripture,” which is why the Lord answered the devil in the desert with Scripture, and why we should too.⁴

Then we have the details of the helmet and the sword. Note that here, the grammar shifts. “Take the helmet of salvation” uses dechomai (DEH-kho-my), “receive.” MacDonald explains that a Roman soldier received his helmet from an attendant, who set it on his head and handed him his sword. After a run of verbs describing effort, the soldier stands still and is equipped. Salvation and the word of God are gifts. And the sword is the word of God in the sense of rhēma (RAY-mah), the word that is spoken. Aquinas: “Preaching is called the sword of the Spirit because it will not penetrate to the spirit unless it is disposed by the Holy Spirit.”⁵

Finally, we get to prayer, which Williamson thinks Paul treats as the seventh piece of equipment. Paul asks prayer for himself, and Williamson notices what the request leaves out: acquittal, comfort, release. Paul asks for words, and for the courage to say them right where he is. He calls himself “an ambassador in chains,” and MacDonald sees “tremendous irony” in it: ambassadors were the emperor’s official representatives and normally had immunity, and this one is bound like a criminal. Twice he asks for boldness, parrēsia (par-ray-SEE-ah), a word MacDonald says described the right of citizens to speak freely, especially before people of high rank. And he wants to speak “as I ought to speak.” The Greek there turns on a small word, dei (DAY), “it is necessary”: literally, “as it is necessary for me to speak.” Hold on to that word. It turns up again in the Gospel.⁶

We turn now to the Gospel. “At that very hour some Pharisees came.” Pablo Gadenz notes that the Pharisees are usually Jesus’ foes, so either a few are trying to help him or they have a hypocritical motive (Luke 12:1). Luke Timothy Johnson reads the scene more darkly. Luke has already told us the Pharisees bear Jesus a “deep resentment” (Luke 11:53), and that Herod wanted “to see” him (Luke 9:9; 23:8), so the warning contradicts the story’s own reliable narrator. Johnson calls the message “in reality a test. If Jesus does seek to save himself, he is exposed as a fraudulent prophet.” Saint Cyril of Alexandria, in the Catena Aurea (kah-TAY-nah OW-ray-ah) of Saint Thomas, saw the same thing long before: afraid of losing their hold on the people, they urged him to leave “with pretended love for Him.” Johnson boils their advice down to this: “lay low, stop this noise, and you will be safe.”⁷

Jesus answers, “Go and tell that fox.” Johnson says the fox, alōpēx (ah-LOH-pex), stood for craftiness and slyness in Greek and rabbinic writing alike. Gadenz adds that the insult also cuts Herod down to size: a fox “is no kingly lion” (Proverbs 20:2). Then Jesus describes his work: casting out demons and performing cures “today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course.” Johnson notes that “the third day” would unavoidably make Christian readers think of the resurrection.⁸

“Nevertheless I must go on my way.” There’s the word again: dei. Johnson explains that Luke’s “it is necessary” places Jesus’ movement within the divine will, so that “no human plot can hinder that happening.” Gadenz agrees that God’s plan, and nothing Herod schemes, sets the route. The Catechism reads the verse as Jesus’ resolve: heading for Jerusalem, “he indicated that he was going up to Jerusalem prepared to die there.” Paul in chains and Jesus on the road use the same word. Both live under a necessity that comes from God, and for both of them it points straight into danger.⁹

Then the lament. “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem.” Saint John Chrysostom, in the Catena, says “the twice repeated word betokens compassion or very great love.” And the image Jesus chooses is tender. Gadenz says it “portrays Jesus in the same role as God toward the wilderness generation,” the God of the Song of Moses who spread his wings over his young (Deuteronomy 32:11). Saint Bede noticed the contrast with the fox. Having called Herod a fox, Jesus “compares Himself to a bird, for foxes are ever lying in wait for birds.”¹⁰ A mother hen puts herself between the predator and her chicks. That is exactly what Jesus is going up to Jerusalem to do.

“And you would not!” Gadenz notes that the Greek plays on the will: Jesus was willing, and they were unwilling. The consequence follows: “your house is forsaken,” which Gadenz reads as the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple in AD 70, and he adds at once that “God has not rejected his people” (Romans 11:2). The passage closes on a door left open, a line from Psalm 118: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” The Catechism notes that the Church takes up that acclamation in the Sanctus at every Mass.¹¹

Put the two readings side by side, and they describe one protection from two angles. Paul tells us to put on God’s own armor and stand; Jesus offers to gather us under his wings. Both set it against a counterfeit, the advice of the fox’s friends, who say safety lies in running from the cross. Jesus walks on because he must, and Paul asks for courage because he must. God’s armor lets us stand where the danger is, and Christ’s wings shelter everyone who comes close enough to be gathered.

Daily Application

The interior movement these readings ask for is to trade our own shelter for God’s. That’s harder than it sounds, because the voice urging us to protect ourselves rarely sounds like the devil. It sounds like the Pharisees: reasonable, concerned, a little worried for us. Don’t mention your faith at the meeting. Don’t go to confession this week; it’s been too long and it’ll be awkward. Don’t call the sister you hurt; she might still be angry. Williamson’s warning applies here. The real danger is being tricked, and the devil does some of his best work through advice that sounds like common sense.

Test the advice by where it points. Jesus weighed the Pharisees’ warning against his Father’s will and kept walking. When the voice in your head says “lay low,” ask what God has actually asked of you. Then use the ordinary armor. Williamson makes a point that will disappoint anyone raised on horror movies: “95 percent of overcoming evil spirits is basic Christian attitudes and conduct.” Tell the truth when it costs you. Do the right thing when nobody is watching. And soak the shield. A faith kept wet with Scripture and prayer doesn’t catch fire when the arrows come, so read the day’s Gospel before you read the news. “These practices,” Williamson writes, “deny the devil points of entry.”¹²

Then pray for courage to speak, the way Paul did. He was in chains, and what he wanted was boldness. Most of us aren’t in chains. We just need the nerve to say grace in a restaurant, to tell a struggling friend we’ll pray for her and then actually do it, to defend the Church at the dinner table without losing our temper. Williamson’s line deserves a hearing: “God waits on the prayer of his people.”¹³

Last, let yourself be gathered. “You would not” is one of the saddest sentences in the Gospels, spoken over people who were offered shelter and preferred their own walls. At Mass today we’ll pray the words Jesus said Jerusalem would one day say: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Mean them. Then walk up the aisle and receive him.

Saint Narcissus learned all of this inside Jerusalem itself. Franciscan Media tells how he became bishop of the city in the late second century, known for holiness and for a strictness some people resented. One of his detractors accused him of a serious crime. The charges collapsed, but Narcissus withdrew into solitude so completely that people assumed he had died. Years later he reappeared and was persuaded to take up his duties again, an old man with a younger bishop to help him. He’s remembered most for one miracle: on Holy Saturday, when the deacons had forgotten the oil for the church lamps, he turned water into oil.¹⁴ The devil’s Greek name, diabolos (dee-AH-boh-los), means “slanderer,” and Narcissus was slandered. He went away for a while, but he came home to the city that kills the prophets, and he kept its lamps lit.

Put on the armor today, stand where God has placed you, and come close enough to be gathered under his wings.

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Notes

1. ↑ Peter S. Williamson, Ephesians, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009), 189-190; Margaret Y. MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, Sacra Pagina 17 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000), 343.
2. ↑ MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 343-344; Williamson, Ephesians, 191-192; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), no. 409.
3. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 194-196.
4. ↑ MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 346; Williamson, Ephesians, 196; Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Letter of Saint Paul to the Ephesians, chap. 6, lect. 4, no. 365, at aquinas.cc.
5. ↑ MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 346; Aquinas, Commentary on Ephesians, chap. 6, lect. 4, no. 366.
6. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 200-202; MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 347-348.
7. ↑ Pablo T. Gadenz, The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2018), 260; Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of Luke, Sacra Pagina 3 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991), 217-218, 221; Saint Cyril of Alexandria, quoted in Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers, vol. 3, St. Luke (Oxford: John Henry Parker, 1843), on Luke 13:31-35.
8. ↑ Johnson, Gospel of Luke, 218; Gadenz, Gospel of Luke, 260.
9. ↑ Johnson, Gospel of Luke, 218; Gadenz, Gospel of Luke, 260; Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 557.
10. ↑ Saint John Chrysostom, Homily 75 on Matthew, and Saint Bede, quoted in Aquinas, Catena Aurea, vol. 3, St. Luke, on Luke 13:31-35; Gadenz, Gospel of Luke, 262.
11. ↑ Gadenz, Gospel of Luke, 262; Catechism of the Catholic Church, nos. 558-559.
12. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 191, 199.
13. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 202.
14. ↑ “Saint Narcissus of Jerusalem,” Saint of the Day, Franciscan Media, accessed October 26, 2026, franciscanmedia.org.

Books Cited

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• Peter S. Williamson, Ephesians, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Baker Academic, 2009)
• Margaret Y. MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, Sacra Pagina 17 (Liturgical Press, 2000)
• Catechism of the Catholic Church, Second Edition (Doubleday / Image)
• Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Letters of Saint Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians (The Aquinas Institute)
• Pablo T. Gadenz, The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Baker Academic, 2018)
• Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of Luke, Sacra Pagina 3 (Liturgical Press, 1991)
• Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels (Baronius Press)