First Sunday in Lent (26 February 2023)
JoAnn A. Post
Matthew 4.1-11
Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” But he answered, “It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ”
Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ ”
Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ”
Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor; and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’ ”
Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.
A friend who struggled with addiction, has learned that, among the many tools in his sobriety tool kit, is to avoid the places and people that trigger temptation. “Why would you walk into a bar, unless you were going to drink, into a casino unless you were going to gamble?” he explains. And of friends who inevitably do “too much” of whatever they’re doing. “It’s not good for me to hang out with them. I know what happens. Why would I go there?”
And he has found, over the years, that he no longer desires those places, those experiences, those people anymore. He has a full life without them. But it didn’t happen overnight. And he didn’t get there alone.
As the Big Book says, “We are not fighting it, neither are we avoiding temptation. We feel as though we have been placed in a position of neutrality—safe and protected.” (Step 10, Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous)
Such neutrality does not come easily. It is practiced, every day, in the company of others who choose to live the same way.
But before a person gets to that level of calm, of confidence, whether the temptation is to addictive behaviors, or destructive thought patterns, or old habits—procrastination, gossip, Cheeto-binging—we do have to fight it, we do have to avoid it. Every day.
As they say: let sleeping dogs lie, don’t poke the bear, leave well enough alone. Until these old ways are completely behind us, we steer clear, even if it means taking the long way around.
Another friend, who desperately wants a dog but can’t afford one right now, said, “I’ll just go to the dog shelter and look.” To which I said, “Nobody who goes to a puppy shelter walks out without a puppy.” Don’t go there.
It has always seemed odd to me that Jesus, still dripping from baptism, didn’t go to brunch to celebrate with friends, didn’t jump straight into ministry, didn’t go on retreat to process all that had happened.
Instead, he roused a sleeping dog. He poked an ancient bear. He couldn’t leave well enough alone.
A casual read of this morning’s gospel makes it sound as though Jesus used his baptism to launch a 40-day vision quest, alone in the wilderness to find quiet, to find peace, to define his purpose, a cleanse. But the wilderness was no wellness retreat. It was a seriously dangerous place.
And Jesus knew it. Jesus went into the wilderness for the express purpose of being tempted. And to up the ante, he went without food or water or companionship the whole time. He was weak as a kitten. And it was in that defenseless state that he willingly put himself in Satan’s crosshairs, for 40 days and 40 nights. Unfed. Unwashed. Unaccompanied. On purpose.
As Matthew writes, “Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” Apparently, it was part of the plan all along. Did the Spirit have to drag Jesus into the wilderness by the ear, by the scruff of his neck, kicking and screaming all the way? Or did Jesus go willingly? We don’t know. But he went, knowing exactly what would happen there.
If he wanted trouble, why not just to go the Humane Society and “look at” puppies?
And because Jesus willingly and intentionally placed himself in danger, he got exactly what he was looking for. Temptation is frighteningly consistent. Tempting. Every time.
I misspoke earlier when I said that Jesus went into the wilderness unaccompanied. Matthew writes that the Holy Spirit took him there, and that angels gathered around him when it was over. So there was someone there at the beginning, and others who mopped up at the end. But, in the wilderness? Where were his helpers then?
Last week, President Biden made a long-planned and closely-kept secret visit to Ukraine, to meet with their president and to confirm US support as the conflict grinds into another year.
I know nothing of military strategy, of the etiquette of armed conflict. So I have had to school myself. And I have learned that if US forces join the conflict on the ground in Ukraine or in the air space above Ukraine, it would serve as a declaration of war. We cannot cross that border with a single tank, a single soldier.
That’s why our president was well-protected on every step, every rail and air mile of his trip. Until his foot crossed the border from Poland into Ukraine. Then he was on his own, militarily speaking.
Once there, in that warring wilderness, our military could not accompany him, on land or sea or in the air. Of course, his movements were monitored by satellite from Poland; an air-borne strike force hovered just outside the Ukraine border in case they needed to swoop in and protect him. But, while on the ground, the president had minimal protection. Or as some have reminded, he faced the same dangers Ukrainian citizens face every day.
Our president took an enormous risk. Many tried to talk him out of it. But he knew exactly what he was doing. Some risks are worth the danger. And, he was not alone.
Perhaps you have your own story of stepping into the line of fire, of taking an enormous risk, of putting your life or your reputation or your livelihood on the line, of working without a net.
Though unaccompanied by Secret Service agents or hovering drones, Jesus carried with him into the wilderness all he needed. Itchin’ for a fight. He carried no food or clothing. No weapons or cell phones. He entered the wilderness with only two things: he knew exactly who he was and what he wasn’t.
He knew who he was: God’s Son. The voice at his baptism said so.
And he knew what he wasn’t. He wasn’t strong enough on his own. So he dug into the tool kit the faithful have used for millennia. Words. God’s words. Though, of course, Satan knew those words, too. Anybody can quote scripture—though not always for the right reasons.
Parrying back and forth:
You’re hungry, make bread! No, I need more than food.
You’re a chump, make God prove it! No, I need no proof.
Your god is worthless! Worship me! No, I need worship only One.
And having bested Satan, angels swooped in to comfort Jesus.
Frustrated, Satan huffed off. But, according to Luke’s gospel, not for long. Luke ends this episode by writing, “And Satan departed from Jesus, until an opportune time.” (Luke 4.13) Don’t touch that dial! It’s not over.
If temptation looked like temptation, we would be ready for it. We might not even be tempted by it. But the urge starts small, harmless, puppy-like, in a weak moment—just this once, just one more time, what can it hurt, who will know, you don’t know unless you try. And the urge grows. The temptation to despair. The temptation to anger. The temptation to destroy ourselves or someone else. How do we equip ourselves to resist those temptations, and, if we are unable to do so, how do we extricate ourselves?
There is no easy path, no one-and-done strategy. Some temptations are overcome. Some plague us all our lives.
If were to ask Jesus, this would be his advice.
Know who you are. You are God’s most-loved child and nothing can change that. No matter what Satan or that dark inner voice tells you.
Know what you aren’t. You are not strong enough. Not by yourself. Armed with the word of the God, surrounded by the people of God, we enter the wilderness of temptation with all we will need.
And here’s one other thought. When we have overcome the temptation, we know that others have not. And sometimes, perhaps at our own peril, we must enter that wilderness again to protect, to encourage, to accompany one who struggles as we once did.
No one can meet temptation alone. No one survives the wilderness alone.
We don’t have to. We know who we are. And what we aren’t. And that’s enough.
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