There’s a lot of temptation in the Gospel
lesson appointed for the First Sunday in Lent in Cycle C. The biggest
temptation, I guess, is to make this story something about us—sort of an object lesson in a “Just Say No” campaign. We might
be tempted to look at this tale as a reminder that we must resist bad things
and wing a few Bible verses at the Devil while we’re at it. But I’d like to
suggest that this story is, in actual fact, really about who Jesus is. It’s a
teaching story that reminds us that we’re in relationship with Christ because he
chose to be like us—subject to every human inclination to ignore God’s grace,
love, and purpose. And why did he choose to be like us? Because it is impossible for us to be like him.
(Well, duh!)
Sometimes I wonder why we pray “Lead us
not into temptation.” We don’t need to be led
into temptation—we’re in it up to our armpits every minute of every day! And it’s
tempting for us to try to redefine the word to make it less threatening to us.
We might think of temptation (especially as we enter Lent and the time of
fasting, abstinence, and self-denial) as our natural desire to indulge in
really good stuff. I don’t know about you guys, but I’d really be tempted to
turn stones into pastry and water into Starbuck’s dark roast if I could! But
indulgent appetites always have a dark, sinister side. There is a thin line
between indulgence and addiction. And if you’re an addict, “Just Say No” and a few
Bible verses aren’t going to cut it. Temptation means coming to terms with our
own powerlessness and weakness.
Really, if we look at it, we’re all
subject to the oldest temptation in the book (That would be the Book of
Genesis. See chapter 3, verses 4 and 5). We all, on some level, want to be God.
We want to put ourselves and our feelings above God’s Law and God’s loving
desire for us. We want to be important. We want others to notice us. We want to
withhold forgiveness and retaliate against those who have wounded us. We want
to strangle the gnawing feelings of terror within us by claiming authority and
dominating others. Sometimes we are able to conquer these temptations and rein
in our behavior (See the last blog post about my young friend Jeremy), but we
can never quite conquer the lurking thoughts that are inside us.
Even when we admit our weakness, we are
tempted to succumb to the luxury of despair. It’s that comfortable feeling that
nothing can be done—at least not by us. When faced with tough choices, we can
be tempted to say we’re only human, and choose our convenience over our
conviction and our comfort zone over our zeal for the Gospel. The notion that
God will do nothing or expects nothing from us is also a temptation. And this
temptation leads us to separation from God.
But the Gospel lesson we read on this
Sunday should impress on us how very much with us God in Christ is. Luke’s
telling of the wilderness temptation (Luke 4:1-13) ends with the ominous sentence,
“When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.” (v. 13) Like
us, Jesus was never far away from the time of testing. Later, we will hear him
pray in Gethsemane, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet
not my will but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)
Jesus gets it. He knows our weakness, our
weariness, our frustration. He’s been at the end of our rope. He’s felt it. And
because he has, we can be free to feel it too, to confess our faults, and to
turn back to him for strength, courage, and assurance.
A blessed season of Lent to you all. Thanks
for reading. Drop me a comment if you have the time. I’d love to hear from you.
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