Beyond Mere Sentiment: The Devil, You Say!
Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
February 25, 2007 The First Sunday of Lent
Luke 4: 1-13
At its most obvious, this is a lesson about temptation, temptation in the context of an extraordinary contest of wit and will between Jesus and Satan. And often, this text is read on the first Sunday in Lent, perhaps as a not too subtle reminder of our own struggle in the spiritual wilderness during these forty days of reflection and journey between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday. (A Garrison Keillor monologue on ‘Temptation and Tomatoes’ was played for the congregation.)
In the wilderness Jesus is tempted three times by Satan. It is interesting that Jesus does not choose to go into the wilderness for 40 days. Luke tells us that he was “led by the Spirit” into the wilderness. To get closer to God? Perhaps, except that once he is out there he encounters, not God, but the devil. I hope, as we consider this old and important story, that we do not get hung up with this Satanic encounter. Some may choose to read it literally, but what I read is something more poetic, rather like a parable, a story touched by constant flashes of imagination. A literal story? Not necessarily. A true story? You’re darn right it’s true! In the words of Fred Craddock, “The scene before us is not a cartoon of Jesus debating some horned creature with a fiendish face who smells of sulfur. Jesus is wrestling with the will of God for the ministry now before him and is presented with three avenues, all of which have immense possibilities for good.”
The first temptation concerns itself with the physical fact of hunger, the basic need for nourishment and survival. Jesus is “famished,” Luke tells us. Forty days without eating. The devil, always clever at marketing, offers him bread. “If you are the son of God, turn this stone to bread. You are hungry. Everyone needs to eat. What can it hurt?” And in a world of unbelievable hunger, why not? Again, there are possibilities for good here. But Jesus, not ready to buy survival at any price, declines the challenge and the offer. “One does not live by bread alone.”
The second temptation is more subtle. The first dealt with basic survival. The second deals with a basic human desire, if not need: power. Jesus is offered all the kingdoms of the world if he will but worship Satan. I’ve always found it interesting that the Bible assumes that the devil is in charge of these kingdoms and has authority over them. As one preacher has said, if Jesus would have just said, “yes,” had entered the political arena and used his power to end poverty and war and oppression, “it would have saved me a lot of preaching and you a lot of listening.” All this would be his. But Jesus will not be bought so easily. “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only Him.”
The third and final temptation is as ingenious as the others. Now Satan appeals to our sense of identity, our need to prove who we are, that I’m somebody. “Jesus, if you are who you think you are, then throw yourself off the Temple. Surely God’s angels will come and lift you up before you fall to your death.” Here the devil quotes, both our hymnal and scripture. Interesting that the devil is quoting scripture. Explains a lot about the Religious Right. (not very nice) But Jesus isn’t into cheap tricks, and doesn’t seem to feel the need to prove himself to anyone. “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” And the devil departs…until an opportune time. This is a testing that never ceases.
So often, we tend to think of temptation as involving private morality, individual choices. “Should I throw the tomato or not?” And certainly this text challenges us to think about those choices. But there in the wilderness I believe we see Jesus struggling with something deeper than private morality. This is a contest about the shape and nature of his ministry, the shape and nature of his life.
Reflecting on this text, Henri Nouwen once said that in the wilderness, Jesus faced the temptation to be relevant, spectacular and powerful. Well, who wouldn’t want that? “Rev. Nelson, it’s the White House calling. The President is calling a few faith leaders together for a meeting in Washington and would like to invite you to attend.” What could it hurt? Think of all the potential good I could do, the wider audience I could reach! It wouldn’t change me. I would still be a humble, country preacher! Ah, the temptation to be relevant, spectacular and powerful…all in the name of doing good. Go ahead, whispers the devil, put on the ring of power. You will be better for it; the world will be better for it.
But Jesus won’t go there. He holds on to his soul and does not sell it for the delusions that power can create. He is meant to walk a different path. He will invite and call people to a whole new way of life. He will soon preach good news to the poor and release to captives, he will cleanse lepers and heal the crippled and blind. He will invite absolutely anyone to sit at the table with him and will poke holes in every wall, every custom, every stereotype that divides or separates us from each other. So many easy ways out are offered, but Jesus emerges from the wilderness clear about his commitment, clear about how he will understand, use and value power. His will be the path of costly and unexpected love, and he will not avoid the painful difficulties of the path of service. This is the life to which he is called and he will not be deterred. In the words of Andrew Canale, “Jesus sat on the rocks under the hot sun and walked the barren desert listening to the silence. Slowly, painfully, his Nazareth life melted away; he shed that old skin like a snake of the desert. Then came the infinite time between what was lost and what is to be found.”
Not a bad description of Jesus’ temptation; indeed, not a bad description of Lent and of our Lenten task. What is there in our lives that needs to melt away, be shed like a snake’s skin in order that something new might take root and grow? What are our vulnerable points? Where are our spiritual conflicts? What pulls us away from the path of Christ? I once came across this comment: “This morning opportunity knocked at my door, but by the time I pushed back the bolt, turned the two locks, unlatched the chain and shut off the burglar alarm, it was gone!” Well, I suppose modern life and fear and the search for security have reduced us all to a little of that sort of thing. But our text is not really talking about homes and garages and the like. It is talking about us, about whether we have locked ourselves up against real spiritual scrutiny, if we have confronted our own egos and ambitions and fears, those areas where temptation is always looking for an entrance.
We can talk and talk and talk about Jesus, but so often, I think, we miss the main thrust of his words. We turn them into a new set of rules, but he really had no interest in more rules. Rather, he yearned for us to become certain kinds of persons: people who care about others, who know that life is more than the accumulation of things, who take risks for compassion and love, who give of ourselves without asking the cost, who enrich the store of the human spirit, who know that, in the end, all each of us has to bring to God, or to the world, really, is ourselves. The question he asked himself in the wilderness, he now asks each one of us…what are you doing with your life; what kind of person are you becoming?
Thinking about Jesus’ wilderness experience and the beginning of this Lenten season, I like to return to these words of Barbara Brown Taylor: “That hollowness we sometimes feel is not a sign of something gone wrong. It is the holy of holies inside of us, the uncluttered throne room of the Lord our God. Nothing on earth can fill it, but that does not stop us from trying. Whenever we start feeling too empty inside, we stick our pacifiers into our mouths and suck for all we are worth. They do not nourish us, but at least they plug the hole. To enter the wilderness is to leave them behind and nothing is too small to give up. Even a chocolate bar will do. What is going on when you crave a chocolate bar? Are you hungry? Well, what is wrong with being hungry? Are you lonely? What is so bad about being alone? Try sitting with the feeling instead of fixing it and see what you find out. Like Jesus who you will serve, whose you will be. Then tell the devil to get lost.”