If we didn’t know the end of the story we might have been as concerned for Jesus’ safety as the Pharisees and like the disciples abandon him when a mob breathing violence made good on Herod’s threat. But we do know the end of the story and so did Jesus. He knew the beginning as well. Remembering the promise he made to Abraham, answering the cry of the waiting Psalmist, he set his face towards the prophet killing city so that he could transform Paul’s body of humiliation, and everyone else’s as well, into the body of his glory. So tell that fox, Jesus says, that the door to the hen house is open but instead of a free meal deal it’s you who will be surprised that this mother hen is no chicken. As Abraham’s promised offspring, chicks under the wing, living between the beginning and the end, we fear no fox as we press on towards the heavenward call (or cluck?) of Christ.