Today’s gospel reading put me in mind of a story I may have told you before—a story about another man who went into the wilderness. This man was very young—probably much younger than Jesus was when the Spirit led him into the wilderness. After a long period of discernment, this young man had realized he was called to the monastic life and was planning to enter the monastery. As the date for his entry came closer, he decided that the very best thing for him to do in his remaining month in the world would be to go into the desert for a solitary retreat. He packed his camping gear and headed out to the desert so that he could listen for God’s voice. As he told the story many years later, everything went very well for the first two weeks. He walked, he prayed, he stood in awe of the beauty of creation, he read devotional books, he fasted and he prayed some more. And everything was just fine for the first two weeks. Then God showed up. And the young man was terror-stricken.
Today’s gospel tells us that Jesus goes away into the wilderness. The tempter is with him, but there’s no mention of anyone else. Jesus is alone—he’s alone with temptation. He can do anything he wants. He can turn stones into bread, enough to feed all the poor people of his land—enough to feed all the people of his world. He can test out those words he heard at his baptism. He can show himself and the world he is the Son of God by using his power for parlor tricks. He can have power and dominion over all the world. He can change the way the world’s nations are run—bring an end to war, change the distribution of wealth, make peace and justice reign throughout the world. All he has to do is worship the tempter. That’s all. And there’s no one to see. No one will ever know.
No one but Jesus. No one but the tempter. No one but God.
In our own lives, when we’re alone in our own little chunks of the wilderness, the tempter comes to be with us. Like all people of God, we struggle to make choices that allow us to live into God’s plan for us and for creation. Most of the time, we’re only too aware of our potential to fail, only too aware of the temptations that are clearly not part of God’s hope for us. But the struggle to avoid the temptation of things that seem so right at first glance—that may well be another matter.
What about the long hours at work that make us feel valuable—and rob us of leisure and companionship? What about the provision of help in ways that makes us feel good—and robs those we help of the opportunity to learn and grow? What about the search for perfection that feeds our pride—and robs us of the fulfillment of creativity? We each know the tempter who lives in the wilderness with us. We each know how seductive those “good” temptations can be.
Jesus didn’t give in to the tempter in the wilderness because he knew what he was about.
He knew that he wasn’t sent to free people from physical starvation but to feed our souls so that we will feed and care for one another. He knew that he wasn’t sent to show God’s power in meaningless tricks but to show how God’s power is available even to the most vulnerable and oppressed. He knew that he wasn’t sent to drag people into covenant with God but to tell us of God’s love and remind us of our choice to turn to God.
This was Jesus’ first occasion of temptation—right at the beginning of his ministry, while he was still learning who he was and what God was calling him to do. He didn’t give into the tempter because he was grounded in the practices of his faith. The young monk-to-be didn’t give into his terror at meeting the Holy because he also was grounded in the practices of his faith. And what about us? What are we going to do when temptation or terror come to us?
Each of these Sundays in Lent, you will hear homilies that point to one of the promises of our Baptismal Covenant. This week, our meditation booklet directs our focus to our vow to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers. These practices are not simply our duties as Christians nor are they simply our source of comfort when our lives are difficult. Studying, worshiping and praying as part of the Body of Christ grounds us in our faith to help us hear the difference between God’s call to us and the tempter’s call to things that may sound like a great idea on first hearing. Study, worship and prayer help us to recognize God’s Holy Spirit so that we can hear what God wants us to hear. And God has given us this space of days—these 40 days of Lent—to listen—to look at our lives, to invite the Spirit into our hearts and to listen for God’s deepest desire for each of us.
Thanks be to God.