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Sunday February 25, 2007 Lent I COne of the things missing from traditional Sunday morning worship is that venerable educational tradition of the pop quiz. It’s a shame that those kind of gut-thumping, nausea-producing opportunities haven’t made their way into our Eucharistic traditions. Just once wouldn’t it be fantastic to get settled into the pew, cruise through the collect for purity and the collect for the day and then wham just as you start to relax and settle in before the readings, the priest springs it on you, a bone fide pop quiz.
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit and still dripping wet from his baptism is led into the wilderness by the Spirit for his pop quiz. The voice of God is still fresh in his ears with those wonderful words, “ You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
At this juncture there are a lot of unanswered questions. What does it mean to be God’s beloved? How is he to fulfill his mission? What exactly is his mission? What will he stand for, fight against, teach and do? Will he have super powers or will he just have to manage with the standard human features, with the bonus charisma package? Things were a bit fuzzy, perhaps even for the messiah-elect himself. He had been chosen; ordained by God in the muddy rivers of the Jordan. He was the one. He had felt the hand of God upon him but his actual ministry had not begun. It seems that there was a kind of entrance exam that he had to endure and pass before he could really get started.
Is it not passing strange that the examiner is the devil himself. God does not administer these tests, he lets the devil do it. Some have found in this an odd and disturbing partnership, make of that what you will. But Jesus doesn’t choose this exam; he is driven to it by the Spirit, delivered into the hands of the devil for his wilderness exam, so much for peaceful doves.
In truth, the exam came at the end of those 40 long days in the wilderness when Jesus was famished and fatigued. The devil was a crafty brutal one who knew better than to attack a freshly inspired messiah-type. Better to let him bake in the desert for a while. The first weeks were dull and uneventful as Jesus said his prayers and muscled through the deprivations standing up. But by the third week he was no longer standing; the youthful messianic machismo had given way to a seated resolution. And latter he was reduced to prone prayer. Almost too weak to get up, he lay there muttering his prayers, trying hard to concentrate on things other than his stomach and his exposure. That was when the devil started in on him, when he was down and weak and vulnerable. In fact that is when the devil starts in on most of us; he’s smart enough to avoid frontal assaults against obvious strength. Temptation has a better chance when we are in need, at the end of our rope.
While the desert is perhaps very familiar territory to New Mexicans, it may not be a place you’ve spent a lot of time in, at least alone without food for extended periods. The desert was very real for Jesus, but it is also an extremely rich metaphor for us. Deserts are vast places of great quiet. They are places where you can hear yourself think, hear the hum of your body, feel the air caressing your skin and sucking the moisture out of you. They are places of extremes that deserve respect and precautions. There is no hunger or thirst like that one finds in the desert.
For an extrovert like me the desert offers the terror of being alone with myself. There is something so beautiful and terrible about the desert. It is so big, so quiet, so empty that one cannot help but notice how vulnerable, how small one really is. In the desert, as one preacher noted, “You remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” In the desert without an Ipod you might find yourself searching for human companionship, anyone to talk with, to commune with…anyone but the devil, that is. The desert can be unnerving as it strips away the layers of protection, illusions of self-confidence, and the false sense of security we all try to create by surrounding ourselves with so many things.
The truth of the matter is we’ve all found ourselves in the desert against our will for extended periods. The stories of the Israelites wandering around for 40 years in the wilderness are meant as reassurance to folks like us that we’re not the first to feel lost in the world, parched, hungry, lonely and embattled. No, we’re in good company…Jesus found himself there also. I probably don’t need to remind you of your own quiet, lonely, vulnerable times. Have you ever been famished for more than bread? Have you ever felt the devil nipping at your heals? If you have, then you know something about the desert, and I bet that one of the things you know most of all is how much you can wonder where God is when you feel lost and afraid out there with your resources growing thin. Why doesn’t God send a search party or a rescue team? Where is that desert oasis when you need it?
As I said before those of us who have known deserts—the wasteland of a city destroyed by flooding, the devastating end of a relationship, the phone call in the middle of the night—we’re in good company. Remember Jesus had just come from his own spectacular baptism complete with doves descending and a voice from heaven speaking affirmation in the extreme. Jesus didn’t immediately become a superhero however. No he went from one beautiful moment by the Jordan River into a long, lonely time in the desert. Had he imagined the whole thing? For 40 days and nights, which is bible-speak for a long time, there was no sign of God. The heavens were closed and Jesus’ prayers seemed to be whisked away by the scouring winds. There he was alone in the desert, until the examiner arrived.
It was a short exam, just three tempting questions and they were not multiple choice. The important thing is to pay attention to the nature of the questions. First, the devil tempted Jesus to practice magic to meet his own needs: “Command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Fresh warm bread can be so enticing. Second, he tempted Jesus to take authority over all the people and kingdoms of the world: “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Finally he tempted Jesus to see himself as a privileged character worthy of God’s special protection: “Throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple.”
Temptation is only real if the thing offered is truly attractive and desirable. Many have noted that throughout the wilderness exam Jesus is subjected to the subtle suggestion that he deserves better than God is giving him. He’s entitled to better treatment. Why should the Son of God endure hardship, chafe under Rome’s authority, or risk bodily harm? The devil keeps the pressure on by attaching Jesus’ identity, his sense of status. “If you really are the son of God…” In a real way the devil is testing Jesus’ humanity. He is saying, hey don’t settle for being human. Act like a god, it’s a lot easier. The helplessness of the human condition is not necessary—you can do better. Take care of your own needs, protect yourself, and grab power over as much as possible.
This is, of course, a story about Jesus’ identity. It is about finding out what being the son of God really means. For Jesus becomes who he is called to be not by seizing power but by turning it down. He will not do magic tricks to meet his own needs. He will not demand special protection or maneuver for greater and greater political power. No, he is committed to remaining a human messiah even with all of its risks and uncertainties.
As Barbara Brown Taylor puts it: It is after all, the only way humans will ever learn what “son of God” really means. A son of God is not someone who is related to God by rising out of his humanity, but someone who is beloved by God for sinking into it even when he is famished, even when he is taunted by the devil himself. It is someone who can listen to every good reason in the world for becoming God’s rival and remain God’s child instead.
Discovering something important about the identity of Jesus means discovering something important about our own identity since we belong to him by that same Spirit that descended upon him at his baptism and drove him into the desert. My guess is that there are ample opportunities for all of us to be tempted by the devil. You’re not alone if you find yourself thinking entitlement thoughts, like don’t I deserve something bigger or better or more exotic? There are devilish voices that will drive your crazy with disturbing questions. “If you are a child of God shouldn’t things be going smoother for you? If you are really a Christian – shouldn’t you be healthier, happier, wealthier?
You now know that when those questions come, you are in the wilderness and your pop quiz is in front of you. You also know what to tell the tempter, “Scram devil, I won’t be tempted into being less than I am meant to be. I would rather be a hungry child of God than a well-fed member of your pathetic team. So shoo! Out! Be gone!”
If you can manage to do that, and believe me I know it is not always easy, temptation rarely is, you will hear a beautiful sound drifting through the desert air. The sound of God speaking his words of love and affirmation and blessing to you, “This is my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.” These are the beautiful words and they are intended for you just as they were intended for Jesus.
*I am deeply indebted to Barbara Brown Taylor and her excellent sermon Wilderness Exam in her book Bread of Angels from which many of the ideas and some quotations in this sermon come.
End Document — St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church