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Between the Hen and the Fox: A Lenten Journey of Justice and Love
As we continue our Lenten series, Cultivating and Letting Go, this Sunday’s scripture confronts us with a striking contrast: the cunning fox and the sheltering hen. In Luke 13, Jesus calls Herod a “fox”—a symbol of deceitful power, a ruler who mimics a lion but lacks true authority and justice. In contrast, Jesus describes himself as a mother hen, longing to gather her vulnerable chicks under her wings. It’s an image of protection, fierce love, and a radically different kind of power.
What does it mean to follow a God who chooses the way of the hen rather than the might of the fox? It means standing in solidarity with those the foxes of this world try to scatter—those pushed to the margins, denied dignity, or forced to live in fear. It means embracing a power rooted in love rather than dominance.
We see this struggle in our world today, as policies and ideologies seek to erase and exclude those who do not fit into narrow definitions of belonging. Trans youth, immigrants, and many others are being told they do not have a place, that they are unworthy of protection and human rights. But Jesus calls us to resist the fox’s fear-driven rule and instead gather one another in love.
This Sunday, we will light the Candle for Peace, Justice, and Hope for Trans Youth, standing as a people committed to creating spaces of refuge, safety, and belonging.
Lent calls us to cultivate courage and let go of fear—to embrace the way of the hen, even in a world full of foxes. Join us this Sunday as we walk this path together.
Alongside you,
Rev. Paul Ortiz
Cultivating and Letting Go
Kindred in Christ,
Lent always begins in the wilderness.
Before Jesus began his ministry, he was led into the wilderness, where he fasted, prayed, and faced temptations—not of obvious evil, but of power, control, and certainty. He was asked to turn stones into bread, to take dominion over the world, to prove God’s faithfulness with spectacle. Each time, he refused. Each time, he let go. And in doing so, he emerged with a clearer sense of who he was and what truly sustained him.
This Lent, we, too, step into the wilderness—not as a place of punishment, but as a place of transformation. Our theme for this season is “Cultivating and Letting Go.” Lent is not just about giving things up; it’s about creating space. It’s about letting go of what holds us back—fear, control, distractions—and cultivating what brings life—trust, love, and justice.
Like the Israelites who brought their first fruits to God in gratitude (Deuteronomy 26), and like Jesus who trusted that we do not live by bread alone (Luke 4), we are invited to ask:
What do I need to release in order to grow?
What truly nourishes my soul?
Where is God calling me to trust more deeply?
Throughout Lent, we’ll reflect on these questions together in worship and community. I invite you to join us as we embrace this sacred season—not as a burden, but as an opportunity to grow in grace and community.
Let’s walk this journey together.
Alongside you,
Rev. Paul Ortiz
Transformed by the Light of Christ
The Transfiguration According to St. Luke by Kelly Latimore
Kindred in Christ,
This Sunday, we reflect on the story of Jesus’ Transfiguration in Luke 9:28-36. On the mountaintop, Peter, James, and John witness a dazzling vision of Jesus, standing in the company of their ancestors Moses and Elijah. It’s a breathtaking moment, filled with divine awe. Peter wants to stay, to build dwellings and remain in the brilliance of that holy space. But Jesus doesn’t let them linger—because transformation isn’t meant to stay on the mountaintop. It’s meant to move us into the world.
On April 3, 1968, in Memphis, Tennessee, the night before he was assassinated, The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his final speech. In it, he spoke words that turned out to be more prophetic than anyone could have imagined in that room that day. The Rev. Dr. King said:
“I’ve been to the mountaintop. I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we as a people will get to the Promised Land!”
Like Moses, who stood on Mount Nebo to see the Promised Land without entering it, like Jesus, who was transfigured on the mountain but would soon walk the road to the cross, The Rev. Dr. King saw the vision of God’s justice, the promise of an end to segregation and Jim Crow, but would physically not get there himself. And yet, like Jesus, The Rev. Dr. King knew that the vision calls all of us down into the valleys, where the work of liberation and love happens.
As a church committed to God’s kin-dom of justice and peace, we are called to be both witnesses to God’s vision and workers in the world. We are called to see clearly—to be transformed by the light of Christ—and also to act boldly, walking in his way of compassion, courage, and justice.
I hope you will plan to stick around directly after service this Sunday, for an Advocacy Sunday event led by Church and Society. Also, you are invited to attend an Ash Wednesday protest at a local Chevron Station, calling people to divest and repent from supporting companies that support genocide in Palestine. I will be distributing ashes at the protest, as well as attending the related service of lament and repentance in the evening at the Wesley Club. These events are organized by Christians for a Free Palestine.
May we be a people who do not accept the disfiguration of injustice, but rather carry the light of Christ’s transfiguration into our world.
Alongside you,
Rev. Paul Ortiz
Angelic Troublemakers
Kindred in Christ,
As we will explore this Sunday, Jesus’ words in Luke 6:27-38 challenge us deeply: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” These words were not meant to be easy; they were meant to transform us, by breaking the cycles of violence in our society and in our hearts. And few embodied this radical love better than Bayard Rustin, a man whose faith in nonviolent resistance changed history.
Rustin, a key architect of the Civil Rights Movement and an advisor to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., helped plan the 1963 March on Washington, and was deeply committed to nonviolence—not just as a strategy, but as a way of life. He faced immense opposition, both from those who supported segregation and even from some within the movement due to his identity as a gay man. And yet, he remained committed to the way of love. He lived out Jesus’ call to love one’s enemies, always believing that love and justice were inseparable.
At a time when so many forces seek to divide us, at a time when executive orders continue to stirp people of their rights, Rustin’s example reminds us that to love our enemies is not to surrender to injustice. It is to confront oppression with a love so powerful that it refuses to be corrupted by hatred. Love, in the way of Jesus, is not weak—it is the strongest force in the universe, capable of breaking chains and healing wounds.
Regarding nonviolent resistance, Rustin once said, “We need, in every community, a group of angelic troublemakers.” And regarding the long work of social change Rustin also said, “God does not require us to achieve any of the good tasks that humanity must pursue. What God does require is that we not stop trying.”
To love boldly, to seek justice with grace, and to meet oppression with unwavering love—this is the kind of “trouble” we are called to make as followers of Jesus.
May we, like Rustin, hold fast to the belief that love will win. And may we, in our own time, bear witness to the radical, redeeming love of God.
Alongside you,
Rev. Paul Ortiz
Praying the Beautitudes
Kindred In Christ,
As we will explore further this Sunday, in Luke 6:17-26, Jesus’ Beatitudes are not just words of comfort—they are a call to action. He names the poor, the hungry, and the grieving as blessed, not because suffering itself is good, but because God is near to those in pain. This week, I invite you to engage in a prayer practice that centers Jesus’ counter-cultural blessings and calls us to embody this love in the world.
Preparation
Find a quiet space. Light a candle if you’d like, symbolizing the light of Christ. Take a deep breath. Settle into stillness.
Step 1: Centering with Breath
Breathe in deeply and pray: “Blessed are those who struggle…”
Breathe out slowly and pray: “…for God is near.”
Repeat this for as long as you feel led, allowing your breath to slow and your heart to open.
Step 2: A Prayer of Solidarity
Offer this prayer, slowly and intentionally:
“God of the weary and the worn, we come before you with open hearts.
Bless those who hunger—physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
Bless those who mourn, and may they know your presence in their grief.
Bless those who are cast aside, and remind them that they are seen, known, and loved.
And God, bless us with the courage to stand where Jesus stands—
with the poor, the hurting, the oppressed—
until your kingdom of justice and peace is made real among us. Amen.”
Step 3: Closing Prayer
Prayer is not just about words—it is about action. Take a moment to ask yourself:
- How is God calling me to stand with the marginalized this week?
- Is there someone in my life who needs encouragement, practical help, or solidarity?
- What systems of injustice do I need to challenge in my community?
Choose one concrete action—whether it’s reaching out to someone in need, supporting an advocacy effort, or making space for someone’s story—and commit to it as a lived prayer.
Closing Blessing
As you end this time of prayer, place your hand over your heart and receive this blessing:
“Blessed are you when you hunger for justice.
Blessed are you when you feel weary from the fight.
Blessed are you when you stand with the poor and the grieving.
For God is with you, now and always. Amen.”
Alongside you,
Rev. Paul Ortiz